#wow look ao3 has more gay fic than anywhere else!
Text
Yes, AO3 is the gay porn bookstore, but take a moment and think about why that is.
People have been writing non-straight ships for as long as they've been writing fanfic. There are great-grandmothers out there who wrote about Kirk/Spock or the Beatles or the Monkees. There were zines and mailing lists and conventions long before the internet existed.
So why is there such a disparity? Why is AO3 the place that has more non-straight ship fic than other popular fic sites?
The same reason why AO3 has more RPF than those sites. The other sites took it down.
Look at any timeline of fandom purges and you'll see that it was the non-straight fic that was always the first to go. Two men holding hands or kissing in a fic would probably be rated G nowadays, but not that long ago the moment a fic had slash, it was rated M.
Think about that. Gay characters existing in a fic was enough to rate it "adults only." And this isn't long ago.
Part of the reason why there isn't more gay fic is that a lot of people really do write straight ships. But part of it is that gay fic was actively removed from a lot of sites, deleted without the author's knowledge or permission.
Of course AO3 is the gay porn bookstore. It's the site where authors who wrote that kind of fic moved to when all the other sites threw them out.
#ao3#I don't know why I felt the need to write this out#but I guess I just want people to ask WHY more often#wow look ao3 has more gay fic than anywhere else!#cool!#yeah#but also why do you think that is?
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 10
Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28, 1997 10:46am
Subject: Coffee?
Hi Monica,
It’s Dana, from pathology. I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee tomorrow around lunchtime? I have a break in classes from 11-2, so anywhere in there would be fine.
I hope things are going well with VICAP.
-Dana
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28, 1997 10:48am
Subject: Wednesday/Thursday
Hi,
I’m mildly shocked that you hadn’t already emailed me before I got in today. Are you alive?
If you’d like to meet up for lunch or coffee this week, I can do Wednesday or Thursday, sometime in the 11-3 timeframe. Let me know which works for you and I’ll block the time out so nothing else ends up on my schedule.
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28, 1997 11:12am
Subject: RE:Coffee?
Hi Dana,
I’m so glad you reached out. I’d love to get coffee tomorrow; I can meet you just outside the autopsy bay at 1pm, if that works?
I look forward to it.
-Monica
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28th, 1997 12:16pm
Subject: RE:Wednesday/Thursday
Hi Scully,
I see that my exceptional self control has paid off in spades. I am alive, and have resisted emailing you this morning through a combination of sheer will and a two-hour budget meeting.
Wednesday sounds perfect, I’ll be there at noon. Don’t ask me how many hours that is from now because I haven’t calculated it and I have no idea.
———
About an hour after returning from her coffee date with Monica, which was very pleasant and is something she hopes to repeat, she starts to feel just a little bit achy. She pushes through the rest of her work for the day and by the time she slumps through her apartment door at six, there’s no denying that she’s sick. She takes some Tylenol and goes to bed, hoping it will have passed in the morning, but when she wakes up it’s even worse. She calls in sick to work and goes back to sleep.
When she wakes again, the phone is ringing. She ignores it, only for it to start ringing again the moment the machine picks up. Dragging herself out of bed with a pained moan, she trudges to the hallway, retrieving the cordless phone and walking back to her bedroom as she answers.
“Hello?”
“Scully! Are you okay?”
“What? Yes. Mulder?” She burrows herself back under the covers with the phone tucked against her ear.
“Yes, it’s me, you didn’t answer my emails all morning and never showed up for our coffee date. I was worried.”
“Shit, Mulder, I’m sorry. I came down with something yesterday and called out sick. I totally forgot we were having coffee today.”
“You’re sick?” he asks, clear concern in his voice.
“Yes, just a virus or something, I’ll be fine.”
“Can I bring you something? Soup? Juice? Bad movies?”
She chuckles a little. “No, you don’t need to do that.”
“Who's gonna take care of you?”
“Mulder, I’m a grown adult with a cold, I can take care of myself.”
“Are you sure?” She can tell by his tone that he wants to do this more for himself than for her.
“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want you to see me all sick and disgusting, Mulder. It’s too soon to ruin your image of me,” she says somewhat sarcastically.
“Seeing you sick is not going to change how I feel about you, Scully,” he says very tenderly, and she knows he means it. Still, she doesn’t like the idea.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Sorry to make you drive an hour for nothing. Rain check?”
He sighs noisily. “Okay, fine. I think you inadvertently left ‘stubborn’ off your list of flaws, though.”
“Well, I didn’t want to ruin all the surprises,” she replies with a smile.
He reluctantly says goodbye, and as soon as he hangs up, she calls the first number on her speed dial.
“Hello,” calls Missy in her typical singsong greeting.
“Missy, can you come over?” she whines, little sister mode in full effect, “I’m sick.”
Missy arrives forty five minutes later and fusses around, gathering a glass of water, Tylenol, and the thermometer that is buried in the bottom of a bathroom drawer. Dana has relocated to the couch, and makes a face around the thermometer propped under her tongue when Missy sets four crystals of different shapes and colors on the coffee table, along with two herb-filled capsules. The thermometer beeps angrily and Missy plucks it out of her mouth, shaking her head.
“One hundred and two,” she says with a frown, “here, take these,” she holds out two Tylenol and two of the herb capsules with a glass of water.
Dana takes the Tylenol and leaves the others.
“Whatever those are, I’m not taking them. And you can pack up your crystals,” she says to Missy as she pops the Tylenol and chases them with a big gulp of water.
“They’re just echinacea, Sis, they won't kill you. And neither will the crystals.”
“But they also won’t help,” Dana says dryly, setting her water on the coffee table and burrowing back under her blanket.
“Well, I’ll just leave them right here,” Missy says, standing and going to the kitchen. “Why’d you call me, anyway? Shouldn’t playing sick maid be Mulder’s job now?” She’s looking through cupboards, pulling out a pot and a can of soup.
“It’s too soon for him to see me all congested and disgusting,” Dana replies, stifling a shiver. “He wanted to come over, but I told him not to.”
There’s a knock at the door. Dana sits up, exchanging confused looks with Missy.
“Did you order food?” Dana asks, and Missy shakes her head, moving to the door.
Dana watches from the couch as Missy opens the door to find no one on the other side. She looks at the floor, then down the hall one direction and the other. She stoops down and picks something up, then walks back to the couch with a paper bag.
“What is that?” Dana asks, and Missy shrugs, setting it on the coffee table and sitting at Dana’s feet. There’s a sheet of paper stapled to the bag, and Missy plucks it off, opening it while Dana explores the contents; a carton of tom kah gai soup.
Missy’s face is a mask of confusion as she reads whatever is written on the paper.
“What does it say?” Dana asks, and Missy hands it to her.
Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still.
Dana’s chin puckers as her bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “Oh my god,” she gushes, “it’s Mulder.”
“What the hell does this mean?” Missy asks, taking the paper back and reading it again. “Does he write poetry or something?”
“No,” Dana answers, pulling the lid off the container and breathing in the spicy coconut smell, “it’s a quote from Jane Eyre.”
“Oh my god,” Missy says with a disgusted look, “you two really are meant for each other. This is sickening, Dana, you realize that, right?”
Dana is smiling, taking sips of the hot Thai chicken soup that he somehow knew she needed. “Yes, he’s also a giant nerd, if that’s what you’re saying. But beyond that, I don’t think we have much of anything in common, actually.”
“You both work for the FBI,” Missy offers.
“Yes, but in totally different areas. And he’s an atheist, and believes in unverifiable phenomena like aliens and spontaneous human combustion. And he’s impulsive and easy going, and he makes decisions with his gut,” Dana lists off Mulder’s attributes like she’s describing the trim level on a car. He’s cute, and he has a leather interior.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t use any of those words to describe you,” Missy says pointedly, setting the note on the table, where Dana plucks it back up and reads it again. “But there’s something to be said for being with someone who’s different from you.”
“I don’t really buy into the idea of ‘opposites attract,’” Dana says flatly. “I think that’s just a lie people tell themselves to justify horribly mismatched partnerships.”
“I think ‘opposites attract’ implies that your qualities clash, like the odd couple. One is messy and the other is clean,” Missy replies, propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “But I heard about this idea of ‘perfect opposites’ which is more like someone who complements you, or helps kind of level you out. So perhaps you lean to the extreme in some areas where Mulder leans to the other extreme, and you learn to meet somewhere in the middle.”
Dana gives her a doubtful look. “What is the middle between believing wholeheartedly that Bigfoot exists, and knowing that he doesn’t?”
Missy takes this under serious consideration. “I think,” she says without a hint of sarcasm, “that the medium would be accepting that it’s possible that he exists, and possible he doesn’t, but there's no way to know for sure.”
“So a Bigfoot agnostic?” Dana asks, and Missy nods in confirmation.
Dana shakes her head. “Maybe you should have gone out with him, I think you two might be better suited.”
“Don’t give me any ideas,” Missy says with a coy smile. “Speaking of which, does he have any single friends?”
Dana shrugs around a gulp of soup. “I don’t know, I haven’t met any of his friends.”
“Well, when you do, keep an eye out would ya? Now that I’ve lost my single buddy, I may as well get back out there. God knows it’s torture enough hearing your lurid tales from the bedroom.”
“Missy, I haven’t told you a single lurid tale,” Dana chastises.
“I know, what’s up with that?” Missy retorts in mock offense, “speaking of, what happened when he took you out to dinner Sunday night?”
Dana shakes her head.
“Oh come on, Dana. I have no life, let me live vicariously,” Missy whines.
Dana shakes her head again. “The only thing I’ll say is; maybe don’t eat off the kitchen counter,” she says before giving Missy a guilty look.
Missy’s mouth drops open.
“Wow, I’m not sure if I’m more grossed out or jealous,” she says as she stands, “I’m gonna get out of here, if you’re good. I think I need to go pick up a guy at a bar for some meaningless sex.”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for coming by. If you need a condom there are some in the bathroom,” she adds with a sarcastic smile, and Missy sneers at her.
“Ha, ha,” Missy replies as she slips on her shoes and opens the door, “last time I checked, you can’t get pregnant from a vibrator.”
Dana gives her a sympathetic pout and Missy pulls the door closed behind her.
———
It’s a quarter past eight when the phone rings, and he pushes Priscilla onto the floor to retrieve it from his desk.
“Hello?”
“I can’t find it,” says a garbled voice.
“Hello?” he asks again, “who is this?”
“It’s really cold. It’s also too hot,” the voice says around a sound like fabric moving over the mouthpiece.
“Scully?”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
There’s a pause. “Mulder?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”
“Mulder, where are you?”
“I’m at home. You called me at home. Is Missy there?”
“No, she had to take her vibrator to a bar,” she answers, and it’s clear that she’s completely delirious.
“Scully, I’m coming over,” he says, standing up to find his shoes and wallet. “Hey, Scully, I need you to do something for me, okay?”
“Hmmm?”
“Can you stand up, and walk to your front door?”
She sighs. “That’s very far.”
“I know it is, but I need you to unlock the door so I can get in. I don’t think your super would be very happy if I broke it down.”
He hears her groan and her voice becomes quieter, then disappears. He waits, and just when he thinks she may have hung up, she picks the phone back up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, did you unlock the door?”
“Mulder?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Mulder, where are you?”
He snickers a little. “I’m on my way over, did you unlock the door?”
“I...I don’t remember,” she says, and she sounds exhausted.
“That’s okay, go back to bed. I’ll figure it out. See you soon, okay?”
“Okay, bye, Mulder.”
He waits but the line doesn’t go dead. He hears her shuffle around a bit and then it’s quiet for a long time. Setting the phone on its cradle, he drives over to her apartment.
The door is, thankfully, unlocked, and all the lights are off.
“Scully?” he calls out, not wanting to scare her. “Scully, are you awake?”
When he gets no response, he slips off his shoes and makes his way to her bedroom, calling out her name intermittently. He finds her twisted up in her sheets, and one touch to her forehead has him jerk his hand away with how hot she is. He strips the blankets off of her, finding her in only a T-shirt and panties underneath. Next he finds a washcloth in the bathroom and soaks it with cold water, then grabs two Tylenol and a glass of water. When he returns to the bedroom and drapes the cloth over her forehead, she starts and opens her eyes momentarily, but then closes them again.
“Scully,” he says softly, shaking her shoulder, “I need you to wake up, honey. I need you to take these.”
Her eyes open slowly and she blinks at him with heavy lids.
“Mulder?” she asks groggily, and he gives her a sympathetic smile.
“I’m here. Can you sit up and take these?”
He helps her prop herself up just enough to swallow the Tylenol and a sip of water before she collapses back against the pillows.
“I feel like shit,” she complains, but her eyes are already closed and she’s on her way back to sleep.
“I know. Get some rest. I’ll be here.”
———
She wakes up to harsh beams of sun pouring directly through her eyelids. Her first thought is that Ethan forgot to close the blinds again, but then she remembers that she and Ethan aren't together anymore and he doesn’t live here, so she must have forgotten to close them. She moves to roll out of bed and is met with the shock of aching muscles, and remembers that she had been raging with fever last night. She probably shouldn’t have let Missy leave, but thankfully the fever seems to have broken during the night. She rolls away from the window, no longer motivated to get up and close the blinds, and finds herself nose to nose with a sleeping Mulder.
“What the hell?” she says out loud, and he opens his eyes and smiles at her.
“Hi,” he says softly, “how do you feel?”
She gives him a perplexed expression. “Confused. How long have you been here?”
He chuckles “I knew you were out of it, but I didn’t think you were that far gone. You don’t remember?”
She shakes her head ruefully.
Mulder rolls to his back and stretches, then turns back to face her. “You called me last night, totally out of it, and I came over to make sure you were okay.”
“How did you get in?” she asks skeptically.
“You let me in.”
Her eyes widen.
“You were burning up, I just force fed you some Tylenol and kept an eye on you. Around 3am you started shivering, so I think that’s when the fever broke.”
She is quiet for a moment, taking in her surroundings. “Mulder...am I not wearing pants?”
He holds up his hands in self defense. “That’s how I found you, Scully, Scout’s honor.”
“What time is it?” she asks, feeling disoriented.
He peeks at his watch. “A little after nine.”
She sits up too quickly and gets dizzy. “I’m late for work,” she says, one hand to her head.
“Scully you were delirious with fever six hours ago, you’re not going to work. I called for you,” he says, sitting up too.
She gives him an incredulous look. “You called out sick to work for me?”
He nods.
She sighs and looks away from him. “I got the soup, and the note,” she says, “thank you.”
“Of course,” he answers, rubbing a palm over her back.
She looks back at him, taking in his sleep rumpled hair and second day stubble. She furrows her brow, a slight scowl on her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?” she says with a defeated tone, and he laughs.
“I’d sure like to be, if you’ll have me.”
She groans and slumps against him, sighing as he wraps his arms around her, petting her hair.
“Okay, fine,” she says flatly.
“Well don’t sound so excited about it,” he teases, and she pulls back and smiles at him.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” she says softly.
“Thanks for letting me,” he replies.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Grishaverse Ship Survey Results
So! After all of that, we finally have the results! What is the general opinion on the ships in the Grishaverse? Well, that’s for you to read below! It’s actually pretty interesting and, while some parts make sense, there were definitely some parts which... surprised me... Anyway, onto the results!
Everything in this post can be split into:
The Grisha Trilogy
Six Of Crows Duology
The Nikolai Series
Shadow and Bone: TV Series
Most Enjoyed Ships
Least Enjoyed Ships
Crack Ships and Shipping Discourse
Notes from the Survey
(note from mod emily: i tried to bold all of fritz’ comments, but i might have missed a few! be aware there are two of us analysing here :))
The Grisha Trilogy
The first book series we asked about was, of course, the first chronologically: the Grisha Trilogy. The most popular ship, with 83% voters for this series selecting this, was Genya/David (Fritz was glad to hear that; Yes I am). This is likely due to the lack of alternate romantic interests in the series, which seems to be a major issue for Alina’s ships. It also seems to be one genuinely enjoyed by most fans, in contrast to Darkling/Alina and Mal/Alina (each around 30%) and Nikolai/Alina (just under 20%), for which I have definitely seen plenty of debate. The second and third most popular ships for this series were Tamar/Nadia (55%) and Nikolai/Zoya (47%). Interestingly, Genya/Alina (43%) and Zoya/Alina (30%) ranked surprisingly high, especially considering how few of my friends and associates I hear talking about them. Good for them!
Honourable mentions:
Alina/Sun (no doubt inspired by that crack fic I wrote a while back) (Still havent read that out of fear)
Alina alone (a common concept among those surveyed, though most mentioned it later)
Zoya/Genya or Alina/Zoya/Genya
Six Of Crows Duology
This series was a little less divided, I would say. Predictably, Kaz/Inej came out on top with a whopping 96% of voters (:relieved:), with Wylan/Jesper next (90%) and Nina/Matthias just after (83%). None of the others really came close, despite Nina/Inej gathering 35% of the votes and Colm/Aditi at 25% (yeah, I’m not sure why that was so popular on AO3 either, but nobody really has objections so I assume that’s why it amassed so many votes). As Six of Crows is decidedly less divisive about ships and doesn’t have such controversial ships (more on that later), it seems the fandom agrees with canon pairings and the votes are... pretty unanimous.
Honourable Mentions:
Jesper/Wylan/Kuwei
Polycrows (platonic or romantic)
Kaz/Inej/Nina
Whoever didn’t read the instruction about this being for only the book series and put Jesper/Milo. I will never escape.
The Nikolai Series
This one is a little harder for me because I actually haven’t read this... so over to Fritz for analysis! But first, the stats. At 85%, the most popular ship is Genya/David, followed by Zoya/Nikolai at 77%. Tamar/Nadia and Nina/Hanne draw at 61.5% and Nina/Matthias has 56% voters onboard. There’s no real honourable mentions for this one, sadly.
Hello Fritz here! Read the books and very glad to see Genya/David as the top ship as it damn well should. Although still a bit surprising since its more of a side-arc of the two and only ties in with the importance of the story at a specific chapter that I feel like I don’t need to elaborate about, if you read Rule of Wolves. (I believe the popularity of the ship also sky-rocketed due to ROW)
Following of course Zoya/Nikolai, the high ranking makes sense, it is the main ship and lets be honest they deserve it <3
I think the only really surprising thing about this is the high votes for Nina/Matthias since [SPOILERS CROOKED KINGDOM] he’s dead so I feel like people should move on from that. Nina/“Hanne” having not as high a ranking as I would’ve thought, but with Matthias still being in the frame I guess we shouldn’t be surprised either.
Shadow and Bone: TV Series
This one is really interesting, with the exclusive show watchers now taking part! We have 89% voting for Kaz/Inej, 76% for David/Genya, 71% for Matthias/Nina, 67% for Ivan/Fedyor (that’s a thing???-->Yeah they had a few somewhat sweet interactions in the background-->nvm i watched it you’re right fritz) and 62% for Mal/Alina. What’s really surprising is how high Malina is compared to Darklina, with Darkling/Alina at 36%. Who knows, maybe Fritz’ analysis can shed some light on this?
Yes yes Fritz to the rescue: First of all we have to see their interactions a little different from what we already knew of them by the end of episode 8. I still think it is a surprising number, since the Darkling in the show isn’t as nasty as he was in the books BUT over all his actions are now seen on TV. We all thought the deer antlers were a necklace amirite? Well no apparently not, the darkling used the worst kind of small science to fit Alinas collarbone to the bone and out comes a gruesome sight: a reason why many people might have started thinking: Wow what a disgusting person he is. And on the Malina “ship”: Mal finally has personality!! jkjk :eyes: Mals and Alinas friendship has been portrayed way better in the show and I believe that the people noticed more chemistry between them especially by the end of season 1. So I’m still a little surprised Darklina has such a low ranking (what with him being all sweet and cuddly in the middle of the show) but it makes sense and the Malina ship as well. Their vibes are just *chefs kiss* and thats coming from someone who didnt even like any of these “ships” <3
Loving the quotation marks for the word ‘ships’, Fritz. Over to the honourable mentions!
Honourable Mentions:
Jesper and Milo (isn’t milo a goat? guys, why?)
Nadia/Marie (huh that didn’t appear anywhere else)
One person had several - Kaz/Inej/Jesper, Dubrov/Mikhael, Dubrov/Mikhael/Mal - and yeah, you can really see the show differences in these mentions right? (whose dubrov...and whose mikhael...)
16% actually voted for Inej/Alina which is wild to me because of book context (they did have chemistry in the show tho :cowboi_smirk:)
Another person with several! We have Nina/Inej, Genya/Alina, Zoya/Alina, Zoya/Genya/Alina. Very sapphic. Good for you.
Kaz/Jesper and Nina/Inej all in one
That’s a lot of honour and mentions but it’s so interesting to me and I think you should see too
Most Enjoyed Ships
The most enjoyed ship was Kaz/Inej. This had unparalleled support, being at 35%. Jesper/Wylan, which was next on the list (23.5%) and Nina/Matthias (18%) were also pretty popular. Most of the others were quite low, though interestingly Mal/Alina only had 1 vote (plus one for the show version). Overall, the SoC ships were a lot more popular in this section, which makes sense - this part is really about your favourite ship, and those were more unanimous in the last sections.
Least Enjoyed Ships
Most people said Darkling/Alina, which got 47% of the NOTP votes. A lot more people disliked Darkling/Alina than liked Kaz/Inej. Make of that what you will, but I take it as a somewhat general agreement among many of you guys. Mal/Alina was also strongly disliked at 22%, but around a half or more of these were clarified to be about the book version of the ship specifically. They really must’ve upgraded in the show! Jesper/Kuwei and any other Darkling ships were also voted by a few, but all of these pale in comparison to the anti-Darklina votes.
Shoutout to the person who said Apparat/Anyone. I agree, though it’s not something I thought of before seeing this response. Also one person said they didn’t like the poly ships, which I hope meant just the ones mentioned earlier and not all poly relationships in general... Another shoutout to whoever said Kaz/Heleen, because why did I have to read that. A fun question, all in all!
Crack Ships and Shipping Discourse
I love talking about crack ships, so let’s start with that! This time, I really don’t want to have to count and list because... well, let me show you:
I think that sums up the sheer variety, to be honest. Then again, it would be rude not to mention that the most popular were Jesper/Milo, Darkling/Nikolai and Alina/Sun. (If you’re still confused about that last one, I take full responsibility.)
YES KAZ/KRUGE I SUPPORT!!!
Honourable mention to this:
which was a lot to take in, and:
Now for the discourse. Yep, the part you probably came for.
Actually... maybe you didn’t? Looking at all of these responses, I see a lot of people genuinely don’t care about ship wars and so on, and often enjoyed the books regardless of the romances involved. Quite a few disapproved of the ongoing (though small) wars between Darklina and Malina, and others had a similar line of thinking, saying we should maybe stop focusing so much on it. You guys are right. I know this is a ship survey, and the conclusions should not include that shipping isn’t as important as we make it (Yes it should), but... that’s where it’s at.
And then again, a lot of you guys expressed disapproval for Darkling/Alina, discussing how it is often one-sided and manipulative and overall unhealthy, so I could be completely off with that last one. Some people mentioned that they ship this but as a slightly different version that the one given to us, recognising the flaws of the canon ship.
Someone said they headcanon Tolya as aroace (OMG YES!!). We need more aroace characters, so thank you for that headcanon :) We also have a few gay ships mentioned here, and one person telling us they love Malina. Yes, you’re right - it’s pretty unpopular, it turns out. Someone else said Alina should’ve been single, and I agree, actually!
One person rickrolled me here. Thankfully, Youtube’s ads saved me. *wipes forehead*
I leave you all with this, in the end:
Notes from the Survey
Statistics Stuff:
The top ships were taken from AO3, so some ships may be more focused on in other books and may not provide accurate statistics for an earlier series.
The main circles this was sent around may have had bias as most people are from the same discord server, which has debated these topics in the past. Hence certain ships may have lower-than-average results. In future, this could be improved upon by sending this to other servers and areas of the fandom.
Personal bias may be present in the analysis, though I have tried to minimise this in the more formal sections.
Observations and Notes from Me:
You guys really don’t like Darklina. Or you love it. Usually one or the other. Wow.
Be glad I didn’t talk about any of the cursed ships in this. The things I have seen... (:cowboi_eyes:)
I thought more people would rickroll me, ngl.
What Surprised You Guys:
Kaz/Inej/Jesper
A few of you guys saw some of those cursed ships, and that surprised you. Well, me too!
Nikolai ships being in the TV Show section at all, what with his character not being in the show (yeah what was up with that huh tztz)
Inej/Alina
The existence of The Severed Moon
Darkling/Nikolai(/Alina)
How fun the quiz was :D
Things You Sent Me:
Bee Movie copypasta
“Nobody expects The Spanish Inquisition!”, except via an AO3 link
A fun fact about enzymes! I liked this one
Fic recs for Feriku and Sarai (esp for Wylan/Jesper shippers)
Another rickroll
Nice compliments :) aww you guys
I asked everyone for some kind of placeholder name and never used it. Sorry! But hey, anonymity, right?
Closing Statements
If you got this far (I feel like ive been sitting here for hours), thanks for reading! This was fun to do and I hope you enjoyed all of this too! The survey is still open for anyone who hasn’t done it but wants to. If I get a huge amount of new responses, I might update this post! But for now, adios!
-mod emily (and mod fritz)
#grishaverse#fandom#shipping#shadow and bone#six of crows#nikolai series#king of scars#the grisha trilogy
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Autumn in Lima - Chapter 6
Chapter Six - I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore
Pairing: Klaine
Author: Sunshineoptimismandangels
Fic Word Count: 21,196
Chapters: 6/?
Summary: For this Tumblr prompt:
“I’m stopped at a light and you’re singing with your windows rolled down and wow do you have an amazing voice”
Kurt and Blaine have the perfect meet cute, but how do you make it work after you meet the man of your dreams?
Read from the beginning:
AO3 | FF.net
AN: *A coffin lid slowly creeks open and my sorry ass raises from the grave* She lives!
Yup, I know it has been a long time between updates and trust me when I say no one is more annoyed by that than I am! But here I am again with a long overdue new chapter - if anyone is still out there reading I just want to thank you for sticking with me!
I hope you enjoy this chapter enough to forgive me of my unpunctual ways. ❤️
____________________________
November
Rachel was stretched out on her stomach next to Kurt on his bed during her visit home for the Thanksgiving Holiday. They were both comfy and content as they flipped through magazines, Kurt with the latest issue of Vogue and Rachel was thumbing through People. It was one of those lazy times when you are so comfortable with the person you're with you don't necessarily have to talk. That is, unless you're Rachel Berry.
"When are you going to come to visit me in New York?" Rachel asked not looking up from her magazine, but bumping her ankles against Kurt's side.
"I'm going to come live with you in New York next year," Kurt said glancing up quickly from an article on 'super-chunky sweaters' to his friend, she was in pink pajamas with her hair pulled back in a ponytail as she glanced back at him with a smile.
"Yes, but that's too loooong." She whined getting up from where she was lying to lean back on the headboard next to Kurt. "I miss you."
"You are seeing me right now."
"Kurt, New York is lonely." Rachel frowned and didn't meet his eyes, "I love it and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, but it is a hard city and I just want my best gay to be there already."
"Rachel, we've talked about how I don't like the term 'best gay," Kurt sighed letting the magazine drop to his lap
"My best friend then! You know you are." Rachel leaned her head on Kurt's shoulder. "I feel like maybe New York will start feeling like home if you're there."
"You have friends at NYADA," Kurt said wrapping an arm around her.
"Kind of. The other students there are so competitive it's hard to know who is really your friend."
"Artie is there." Kurt really didn't like the idea of Rachel feeling alone.
"And I love him, but we don't hang out that much. He is more of a group friend."
"You know Blaine now." Kurt tried again, his heart compressing in his chest seeing his friend so somber.
Rachel perked up so quickly at that she almost hit Kurt's chin with her head, "Yes, that's true. We are both very busy and very popular so we don't have a lot of time to spend together, but he is a little ray of sunshine!"
"Popular?" Kurt said lifting an eyebrow, "You just said you were lonely."
"Popular doesn't always equal friends, Kurt. Though, Blaine seems to have a ton of friends and admirers. He is almost too likable."
"Admirers?" Kurt asked opening the magazine again and trying to seem casual.
"Yes, I met him for lunch at NYU one day and he practically had people fawning over him."
"Guys?" Kurt bit his lip and tried to look interested in a Balenciaga oversize wool sweater, okay actually, he would look great in that sweater.
"Yes. Men, women. Anyone who has good taste."
"Hmm," Kurt hummed to himself, his stomach twisting, wondering if Blaine was interested in any of those 'admirers', "You know he once confessed he was lonely himself. Maybe he isn't interested in sociopaths."
"He's lonely too? Oh, that is good to hear."
Kurt looked up at Rachel giving her a scowl, "I'm sorry, you want Blaine to be lonely?"
"No!" Rachel's gasped, "I mean… not very lonely. I'm just glad to think maybe he enjoys spending time with me as much as I enjoy spending time with him."
"Please don't tell me you have a crush on Blaine." Kurt deadpanned, only half joking. He knew Blaine was solely interested in guys, still, it would be awkward to have the same crush as Rachel.
Rachel smirked and winked at him, "No, I'll leave that to you."
Kurt could feel his cheeks fill with color and wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He was a twenty-year-old man, why was he blushing like a sixth grader and the mere mention of liking Blaine?
"Admit it, you do." Rachel said bumping shoulders with Kurt.
"Of course I do," Kurt worried his lip for a minute, "You know that we…"
"Fucked."
"Rachel!"
"Oh please, we're adults here."
Kurt looked at Rachel sitting there in her bright pink pajamas, and lifted an eyebrow, "Some of us are. And yes, we had sex. And it was… really good."
Rachel wiggled excitedly, "I'm still upset you won't give me details."
"I'm still disturbed that you want them." Kurt said rolling his eyes, "But the thing is, it is more than the fact that we slept together. Blaine and I… just click, you know? We text every day and talk on the phone and Skype regularly. He… he has become someone I really trust and care about."
"That sounds ideal, Kurt."
"Except he lives in New York and I don't know what he thinks we are, he could be dating as far as I know."
"Really? Wouldn't he mention that?"
"Not if it would make things awkward, he might not. I know people do long distance relationships, but most of the time those people are in a relationship before the long distance. Blaine and I… we just met and then he was off to New York City again."
Rachel sighed and shook her head, "You know we've had this conversation before."
"I know."
"And I'm going to say what I said then. Why. Don't. You. Talk. To. Him? Ask him what you are?"
"Because!" Kurt said throwing his hands up and up on the magazine, "I can't have a 'what is the title of our relationship' talk with someone I don't even know if I'm in a relationship with!"
"Kurt, you're being difficult." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, "What are you afraid of? You know he likes you."
Kurt was quite a moment thinking it over, he wanted to bite back that he wasn't afraid, but he knew that wasn't true. Finally, he let out a long breath and looked Rachel in the eyes, "It is six more months until I'm done with school. That's half a year. And then I won't actually move to New York until the end of July. That's two more months. That is a long time to ask someone to wait for you, especially when you've only been on one official date-"
Rachel opened her mouth to speak but Kurt knew what she was going to say.
"Even if we did sleep together on that date. I can't ask him that. I can't expect that from him, I could potentially mess things up between us before I even get to New York. I don't want to ruin a good thing before it really has a chance to get going. It's too much pressure."
Rachel's shoulders slumped, "I guess you have a point. But Kurt, if you aren't going to try and be some kind of couple now, you have to let him go. I mean, not as a friend, but you can't spend the next eight months hung up on him without saying anything, that puts too much pressure on things when you do move. Maybe… maybe you should be dating?"
Kurt laughed at that, "And who would I even date Rachel?"
"Please, you cannot be the only out gay student at Rhodes. I'm just saying, be open to opportunities. You are still young! Don't back yourself into a corner. Sexually speaking."
"Oh, my god."
"Kurt, think about it."
"Fine, I'll think about being open to something." Kurt begrudgingly agreed and flipped the page of his magazine. "You're annoying."
"I'm right."
"I'm glad you back home for Thanksgiving."
"You love me." Rachel said with confidence, bumping his shoulder again.
Kurt smiled and reached for his phone and the long text string he had with Blaine just from today.
Kurt: Looking forward to your visit in December. Can't wait to talk to you in person.
Kurt was counting down the days until winter break. Not only did he need a break from school. winter break was going to be more important than ever this year. Blaine was coming home to visit his mom and new step dad for Christmas. Meaning in just a few days Blaine would be a town over. In a few days Kurt would see Blaine face-to-face. The thought of it sent shivers down his spine.
As much as Kurt couldn't wait he was also a bundle of nerves over it. Fretting over what he'd wear when he saw Blaine again, tripping over his own shoes when he was lost in thought about Blaine, and overall just being a bumbling mess, so much so that his dad sat him down at the kitchen table one morning to check on him.
"Are you on some kind of new study drug or something that the kids are doing these days to stay alert?"
"What? "Kurt stared at his dad in shock, "Dad. No." Kurt may not tell his father about all his exploits, sure, but his father should know him better than to think that. "I don't do drugs."
"Okay. Okay," Burt nodded, "I had to ask. I'm the dad, that's my job and you've been… off for the past few days."
Kurt looked down at the table and cupped his hands around the mug of coffee Burt had poured for him. "I may be a little nervous."
"Midterms are over buddy, no reason to fret over them anymore."
Kurt looked up and smiled as his dad, Burt was trying here even if he was way off the mark. "It's not that. It's… Blaine. My friend in New York?"
"Bud, I know who Blaine, is you may have mentioned him once or twice... Or a hundred times." But wasn't even attempting to hide his amusement. And okay, Kurt had probably talked about Blaine a lot more than he'd realized.
"Well," Kurt continued ignoring his father's teasing smirk, "He will be in town for a few weeks and I'm looking forward to seeing him. That's all."
"So looking forward to seeing him that you forgot to add water to the coffee machine this morning?"
Kurt looked down at his mug, "This isn't the coffee I made?"
Burt laughed out loud at that, "No. Carole saved it once she smelled something burning."
"Oh god," Kurt buried his face in his hands, "I'm sorry."
"You really like this guy?"
Kurt didn't look up but nodded.
"And you're nervous because…?" Burt waited as Kurt fiddled with his mug, "You don't think he likes you?"
Kurt sighed and looked up, "Not exactly, I was talking to Rachel-"
"Oh god."
"No, this time I think, she may be right. Rachel said I need to either tell Blaine how I feel or… move on. I figure if I don't tell him when his home then it is probably time to move on."
"It is shit or get off the pot time?" Burt offered.
Kurt looked up with a smile, "That succinctly sums it up. What do you think I should do?"
Burt took a sip of his coffee and looked lost in thought for a moment, "I think that in my life I regret the shots I didn't take more than the things I tried for, even if I failed."
"Yeah," Kurt nodded feeling his confidence growing. "Yeah, I think I know my answer."
"You usually do."
December
Kurt: So tonight
Blaine: Tonight?
Kurt: We are going to see each other for the first time in nearly 3 months.
Blaine: I'm sorry, who is this? 🤔
…
Kurt: Not funny
Kurt: ... It's Kurt.
Blaine: Kurt! I was joking! My humor is awful when I'm nervous.
Kurt: What are you nervous about? 😊
Blaine: I have a hot date tonight and I really want to impress him.
…
Blaine: Kurt?
Kurt: This is a date then?
Blaine: Please tell me you're the one joking now.
Kurt: I wasn't sure it was a date.
Blaine: Oh.
Blaine: Do you want it to be a date? I hate talking about this over text message, I need to hear your inflection. I can't call though because I'm with my mom.
Blaine: It doesn't have to be a date.
Kurt: I'm I infringing on family time?
Blaine: No! It would just be rude if I got up to make a call right now.
Blaine: Kurt?
Kurt: Yes?
Blaine: You didn't answer my question.
Kurt: Yes, I want it to be a date. You didn't see that happy little shimmy dance I did when you said it was a date? 🕺🕺
Blaine: Will you reenact that in person later? 🙏🙏🙏
Kurt: Maybe. If you earn it. 😉
Blaine: I can't want to see you.
Kurt: Four hours!
Blaine: 😍
…
…
Blaine: 3 hours!
…
…
Kurt: 2 hours!
…
…
Blaine: 1 HOUR! I'm trying to pick out what to wear and I'm a mess!
Kurt: I'm going to think you look good regardless.
Blaine: I'm grinning like an idiot.
…
…
Kurt: Blaine?
Blaine: Kurt?
Kurt: I'm pulling up to your house. Should I knock? Is your mom home? Am I about to meet your mom? Why didn't I think this through!?
Kurt jumped a bit in his seat and looked up from his phone as someone tapped against the window of his car. He smiled finding Blaine standing outside the door, his hands in the pockets of his coat and a bright smile on his face as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Kurt quickly rolled down the window.
"Hi."
"Hi!" Blaine was beaming and Kurt knew the same could be said for him. "Are you going to come out of the car? Or at should I just go around the other side and get in?"
"Oh!" Kurt quickly opened his door, barely missing hitting Blaine, and hoped out of the car. They stood in front of each other for a beat before they both moved forward, but Kurt didn't know if it was a hug or a kiss, or a peak to the cheek. It ended up being an awkward hug with Kurt brushing his lips against Blaine's ear.
This was as bad as their first date, except it shouldn't be - they'd talked to each other countless times since then and knew one another so much better now.
They pulled apart and Blaine's cheeks were rosy, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. Kurt was internally kicking himself because for some reason the air between them was stilted and strange.
"Um… did you want me to meet your mom?" Kurt asked glancing to the door.
"I do… but maybe not right now?" Blaine said following his gaze but not giving an explanation.
That was okay, Kurt assured himself. Blaine not wanting Kurt to meet his mom didn't have to mean anything bad. Right?
"Dinner then?" Kurt asked trying to get things back on track.
"Yes." Blaine nodded and his smile grew when Kurt rushed around the car to open the passenger side door for him.
They were mostly silent as Kurt drove to the restaurant they'd agreed on, Blaine giving directions as needed because he was more familiar with Westerville. This didn't feel right at all. He and Blaine never had trouble finding things to talk about. And Kurt had never felt awkward like this around him, but the air between them was tense and heavy.
Kurt pulled up to the restaurant and they walked in and were seated before either of them said anything, and then they both tried talking at the same time.
"How are your classes go-"
"Is your brother-"
They both stopped and smiled and tried again, talking over each other once more. Kurt bit his lip and looked down at the table. He heard Blaine clear his throat and then reach forward to lay his hand over Kurt's. "Go ahead."
Kurt looked up to see Blaine smiling at him, his eyes dancing and Kurt's shoulders relaxed a little. "Did something happen this afternoon? You seemed excited about this evening, but now things feel… weird."
Blaine's smile slipped and his eyebrows shot up, "No. No, nothing happened. Did something happen with you?"
Kurt shook his head, "No. So why..," Kurt blew out a breath of frustration and motioned between himself and Blaine. "What's wrong here?"
Blaine squeezed Kurt hand and turned mouthed, "One more minute?" to the waitress as she stared for their table.
"I don't think anything is wrong here." Blaine said looking back at Kurt, "At least I hope not. I know for my part I'm just… well, I guess I'm letting my nerves get the better of me because I've been looking forward to this moment for three months and I… I may have put too much pressure on myself to make it perfect."
Kurt could feel a small smile curl up on his lips, "I'm in the same position."
Blaine let out a little laugh and leaned back in his chair, pulling his hand away from Kurt's but looking much more comfortable as he ran a hand through his short loose curls, "Okay. Good." He beamed at Kurt. "You have nothing to worry about, just being here with you has already exceeded my expectations."
Kurt laughed at that, he wanted to say, I thought my heart would beat out of my chest when you held my hand just now, but instead went for, "I tend to do that," and sent Blaine a wink.
Things were a little easier after that. They ordered food and the conversation flowed effortlessly like it always did between them. There was still a small ball of worry in Kurt's stomach. He wanted to talk to Blaine about whether or not they were a couple, or how serious Blaine was about this (Blaine was the one who called this a date), and if Blaine was dating while in New York - but things were going so well Kurt really didn't want to spoil the mood.
He was also seriously distracted by having Blaine no more than two feet away from him. Of course it was important to Kurt that their relationship was more than the physical and now that the initial nerves were fading Kurt wasn't surprised talking to Blaine was as delightful as ever. The issue was that Blaine really was extremely distracting, the way his fingers held a spoon as he lazily stirred the coffee they'd ordered with dessert, his dark lashes fanned out on his face as he glanced down shyly when Kurt flirted with him, his gorgeous lips tipped up in a smile as he talked about his family.
Kurt wanted to tackle him right then and there, the other restaurant patrons would just have to be scandalized, Kurt was this close to not caring.
They lingered well after dinner was done, talking and laughing and sharing long looks as the initial nerves between them completely dissipated, neither of them seemingly wanting the evening to end. Kurt felt caught between bringing up some potentially heavy topics versus finding a dark corner someplace where he could press Blaine against a wall and tease him with heated kisses and roaming hands.
"I guess we should let the waitress have this table back," Blaine said scrunching his forehead adorably as if leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Probably," Kurt reluctantly agreed, "And tip her well."
Too soon they were back outside standing by Kurt's car, neither of them making a move to get back in.
"It's a little cold, but if you're up for it maybe we could walk around the town center a little while?" Blaine was wrapping a red scarf around his neck that made his rosy cheeks stand out. "The Christmas lights are really nice in this area."
"I would love that."
Blaine smiled and Kurt reached out for his hand, wishing they hadn't put gloves on so he could feel Blaine's skin against his own. He didn't care that it was cold.
"I love Christmas lights," Blaine said as they passed a store with brightly colored lights looped around its edges, the big kind people use to use before the small twinkle lights came into style. "They always make me feel like a kid again."
Kurt was watching Blaine's lovely profile, his strong jaw and almost pouted lips in the colorful hues cast by the lights they were passing. "When I was little my mom and dad and I use to get cheap gas station hot chocolate and then drive around and look at the best-decorated neighborhoods while listening to cheesy Christmas music on the radio." Kurt said smiling at the memory, "I loved it."
"That sounds wonderful," Blaine said squeezing Kurt's hand. "You don't do that anymore?"
"It's been a while, but maybe we could start again. I can see Finn really getting into that." Kurt laughed at the thought. Finn would probably be like an excited puppy, he'd bring it up as a suggestion.
They got to a lane with rows of small Tuliptrees hibernating for winter and strung up in glistening white lights. The lane was so full of trees they hardly even needed streetlamps the fairy lights were so bright. Kurt and Blaine spent a good amount of time there laughing and taking pictures, at one point Blaine slipped on the frosty sidewalk but quickly got up eyes sparkling and with flakes of snow in his dark hair.
They posed in with the lane behind them and Kurt pulled out his phone to take yet another picture and Blaine swooped in to plant a kiss to his cheek. Kurt' skin grew warm and his stomach flipped over. The evening was turning out to be something almost magical.
"Do you want to… head back?" Kurt asked his breathing hitched as he turned to Blaine and found their faces close.
"I don't know…" Blaine answered slowly, seemingly confused by Kurt sudden shift of focus, or maybe just addled by how close together they were. "I don't want the evening to be over."
"Me either." Kurt pulled in closer to Blaine and tugged on his scarf a little to bring Blaine's face even closer as Kurt lowered his voice. "We could maybe find someplace… private?"
Blaine's eyes widened as he finally caught on and his already ruddy cheeks flushed, "Um… yeah. I would really like that but…"
"But?" Kurt's heart skipped a beat.
"My mom and Keith are at my house."
"And my place has my dad, Carol, and Finn," Kurt added glumly.
Kurt was close to suggesting they get a hotel room, as sordid as that sounded…
"Um… There's a nice little hotel near my place…" Blaine cheeks where bright red at this point and he cleared his throat not making eye contact with Kurt.
"You read my mind." Kurt breathed closing the nearly nonexistent space between them and capturing Blaine's lips with his own. Blaine hummed into the kiss and as soon as they broke apart he eagerly nodded towards to direction they'd parked.
It didn't take long to get back to Kurt's car, and he was very tempted to push Blaine against the door and just kiss him right then and there, they could move to the back of the car… but they'd almost done that once before, and honestly, while it wasn't super busy here, it was still a public place. He could wait to get to the hotel. If he had too.
Kurt had never booked a hotel room for the sole purpose of hooking up before. He wondered if Blaine had? Kurt stayed in the car while Blaine got a room and then they parked and rushed up to the second floor. Soon Kurt was unlocking the door and walking in backward while tugging Blaine by the scarf around his neck.
"Jesus Kurt," Blaine breathed as he moved in and the door closed behind them. He kept his lips close to Kurt's skin as Kurt's hands tried to maneuver through all of the clothing Blaine was wearing. Damn this winter layers.
"Help me with this coat!" Kurt laughed pulling his face away.
"Of course." Blaine practically whined and kicked off his shoes while also shrugging off the coat Kurt had unbuttoned.
They stood by the bed a moment hands moving across one another as pieces of clothing fell to the floor one at a time. Kurt's skin prickled in the air of the room after being bundled up so long and his arms instinctively crossed over his chest as Blaine finished hopping out of his pants, both of them now in nothing but their underwear.
"Cold?" Blaine asked gently reaching out for Kurt's hands - letting Kurt know he could stop him if he wanted to - and pulling Kurt's arms away from his chest.
"A little."
Blaine cocked a confident smile, "I bet I can warm you up..."
"That's exactly what I want you to do." Kurt teased and the sat down on the bed, letting go of Blaine's hands and scooting backward until he could lean against the headboard.
Blaine looked at him head to toe and then groaned before quickly crawling up the bed to meet him with a heady kiss.
"I don't want-" Blaine gasped between kissing him, "You to think-" A longer kiss, deeper, making Kurt moan and cling to Blaine's back. "That I'm only interested in sex."
"I'm very interested in that right now," Kurt said nipping a little at Blaine's bottom lip.
Blaine laughed and pulled back, but left a hand on Kurt's now panting chest, he let it slide down tantalizingly slow as he spoke, "Oh, so am I. I just… that isn't all this is. You and me, that is." His hand got to the waistband of Kurt briefs slipping them off and looking almost bewitched. "Kurt I… really like you."
Kurt smiled at him, his voice caught in his throat for a moment. "Good. Because I really like you too Blaine. And after months of us talking without doing anything physical… I figured you must like me for more than just sex."
Blaine's smile grew so that his whole face lit up, eyes scrunching, "That's very true."
"But right now we're here… together…"
Blaine didn't even respond with words he just fell forward kissing Kurt again.
Kurt laughed around the kiss, "And I am going to try and show you just how much I like you, Blaine Anderson."
Kurt held onto Blaine's back and then flipped them over so that he was hovering over Blaine's prone form, knees on either side of him. Then he kissed down Blaine's tan chest and quickly pulled his underwear off as Blaine trembled beneath him. Kurt's started to take Blaine into his mouth, the sound of Blaine's moans shooting through him, as Kurt eagerly worked to make his point.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let The Games Begin [Repost]
Summary: The Hunger Games is happening once again. Phil Lester has never been interested due to his grandpa shielding him away from most of it. But now, Phil wants to learn more about the Games. Then, he meets a boy from District 6 who has been chosen to take part in The Hunger Games. Phil becomes attached, and he’ll do anything to help keep this boy alive.
Genre: AU, Angst with a happy ending
Word Count: 8,586
Triggers/Warnings: swearing, minor character deaths
A/N: I wrote this way back in 2016. I recently rewatched the hunger games, and decided to read this again. Then, I realized that there were so many mistakes and decided to edit the whole thing. I only edited the fic, didn’t change much (but I did add a few things here and there). I hope you enjoy this fic (because I low actually do, and would love some feedback on it lmao).
[READ ON AO3]
“Grandpa Snow, are we going to find out who all the tributes are today?” Sixteen year old Phil Lester asks as he excitedly walks into his grandfather’s large office.
“Yes Phil, we are going to meet the tributes,” Snow answers, sighing as he looks over at the small boy.
“Can I go with you to the arrival?” Phil asks hopefully.
“You know you aren’t allowed to go,” Snow says.
“But grandpa, I never get to go. Can’t I go just this one time?” Phil begs.
“Tell me, why do you want to go so badly?” Snow asks curiously, crossing his arms against his chest as he leans back in his chair, watching as his grandson sits down in the chair in front of him.
“Because,” Phil starts. “Everybody else gets to go and meet the tributes, and everybody else gets to go to the parties and mingle with each other, while I’m stuck here in this boring mansion.”
“Boring?” Snow scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “You should be grateful you live in a place like this.”
“No, I am! I’m sorry, Grandpa,” Phil says quickly, “It’s just… it gets a bit boring sometimes. I’m lonely.” Whilst Phil truly did love living in this mansion, he is constantly stuck in it because his grandpa protective and he doesn’t want anything to happen to him, which Phil does understand considering how many deaths a day there were in the districts and even sometimes the Capitol. The mansion is still boring and Phil doesn’t have any friends because he can’t exactly go anywhere.
“Phil, you know it’s too dangerous for you,” Snow says.
“I’ll stay close to you then. Hire a bodyguard… or something,” Phil shrugs.
Snow finally sighs in defeat, and thinks quietly for a moment. “Alright. You can go… but just this once. But, I cannot babysit you. I’ve got very important things to do with the Games drawing nearer each day. Understood, Philip? If anything happens, you’ll be brought straight back to the mansion,” he warns.
Phil gasps and nods excitedly. “Thank you, thank you!” He exclaims excitedly, standing up.
“Now go and find Vivian. She’ll help you find something to wear for tonight,”
“Thank you so much Grandpa! You won’t regret this,” Phil grins and then instantly runs out of Snow’s office, off to find Vivian, who is basically like a mother to Phil. She cares for him, and she’s just their maid.
Phil’s parents died when he was very little because of illnesses, so he was forced to live with his grandpa, who just happens to be the President of the Capitol, President Snow. You either love and adored him, or you hated him. Sometimes people told Phil they were sorry for him, that he had to live with the old man. But honestly, Phil doesn’t care what those people say or what they thought of his family. Grandpa Snow cares for him, and that’s all that matters to Phil, since he’s pretty much the only family he has left.
****
“Phil, you look dashing,” Snow says once he sees Phil walk down the stairs, wearing a white suit.
Phil smiles as he looks up at his Grandpa, not being to stop himself from blushing. “Thank you, Grandpa. Vivian picked it out for me. It’s weird wearing a suit though,” he says.
“You’ll get used to it. Now, come. We need to get going. Hurry up,”
Phil smiles, and then he follows Snow out of the mansion.
****
Now they were waiting for the tributes from each district to arrive in the Capitol.
Phil’s very excited, although surprisingly, also nervous. He can’t help but feel sorry for all these kids, because he knew that all but one were going to survive The Hunger Games. Phil’s definitely very thankful that he doesn’t have to go through any this, since he was the President’s grandson.
“They’re coming!” Phil squeals excitedly as he sits in his seat next to Snow.
“Philip,” Snow warns as he gave Phil a stern look. “That’s not how we behave.”
Phil immediately goes still and looks down at his hands. He completely forgot that they were pretty much in front of the whole Capital and the districts, and he really doesn’t want to embarrass his grandpa, but can you blame him for being so excited? This was his first time witnessing this event live.
Phil looks up a moment later and smiles when he hears Caesar Flickermen speaking, and then he sees the districts coming in. He sits up a little bit more so that he can get a better look of everyone.
“Here from our sixth district, Daniel Howell and Louise Pentland!”
“Wow, look at him…” Phil whispers quietly to himself, his eyes went wide with shock, as soon as he saw the brown haired boy come out. He’s the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.
Phil has never told anyone that he’s gay, especially not his grandpa. Because he knew that he wouldn’t get a supportive reaction. He didn’t want to jeopardise any of the life that he’s living right now.
Besides, it isn’t a big deal… what boy would be interested in him, anyways?
Phil doesn’t pay attention to any of the other tributes, he can only keep his eyes on Dan Howell.
****
“This party is huge,” Phil whispers quietly to himself as he looks around.
It’s now after the arrival of the tributes, he’s finally at the welcoming party that’s being held in the Capitol. There were so many press and paparazzi here. Everybody wants to see and talk to all the new tributes. Phil never knew that it was such a big deal, even though he had a small idea of it.
“Oh, sorry…” Phil mumbles as soon as he accidentally bumps into someone. He looks up and his eyes immediately went wide with shock when he saw that it was none other than Dan Howell himself.
“I-It’s okay,” Dan speaks quietly, blushing deeply. Dan isn’t used to speaking to many people like this, because even though he came from district 6, he’s terribly shy and reserved, and likes to keep to himself.
“You’re Dan Howell? From District 6?” Phil asks. “Nice to meet you.”
“Who are you?” Dan asks, blinking a few times.
“Oh, sorry about that. I’m Phil Lester, President Snow’s grandson,” Phil introduces himself, smiling.
“You’re President Snow’s grandson?” Dan asked, clearly shocked to hear this.
“Yeah… I get that reaction a lot,” Phil says, sighing quietly.
“So, what are you doing here then?” Dan asked. Normally Dan wouldn’t strike up a conversation like this, but he can’t help but be quite interested in this boy. Phil seems like someone that he would get along with. He only has one best friend back home, and that was Louise. The fact that he’s going to lose her absolutely breaks his heart. Either she and him would die in the Games, or only one of them would live.
“I never get to go to these parties, Grandpa Snow is very protective of me,” Phil explains. “I asked him if I could come tonight and he finally said yes. I’m really glad that I got to come tonight though.”
“President Snow, protective of someone?” Dan scoffs. “I find that hard to believe,”
“I wish people wouldn’t talk about him like that in front of me,” Phil mumbles.
“Oh, I’m sorry… it’s just… can you blame me? It’s his fault that we’re here in the first place,” Dan says.
“I guess I can understand that,” Phil nods. “But that’s not how I see it.”
“Well, you actually live with him and see him more often than any of us… so maybe you see a different side to him then us,” Dan says, sighing when he hears his name called. “I guess that’s my cue to leave. Will I see you around?” He bites his lip. He hopes this wouldn’t be the last time he sees Phil Lester.
“Yeah,” Phil smiles and nods. “You definitely will.”
“See you later,” Dan bids goodbye, and then turns around and walks away without saying another word.
“Lester,”
Phil looks over and then he sighs when he saw that it was one of the bodyguards that Snow hired for him. “What now?” Phil sighs, crossing his arms against his chest.
“President Snow wants you back at the mansion as soon as possible,”
“But why? The party is just getting started! I want to meet all the tributes,” Phil argues.
“Tributes aren’t here to be your friend, Lester. Let’s go now, or we’ll do it the hard way,”
Phil huffs angrily, walks pass the bodyguard, and storms out of the room.
Phil already knew what would happen if Snow got angry or upset with him, so he wasn’t going to argue with anyone. He isn’t an idiot. He’s actually seen how his grandpa treated people from the other districts. And Phil definitely doesn’t want to get on his grandpa’s bad side.
***
“How come the tributes have to do this?” Phil asks curiously.
“We need to evaluate them so we can learn what their special skills are for the Games,” Plutarch sighs, as he crosses his arms against his chest, Phil’s been asking a million questions about the Games, which is already annoying Plutarch. Phil is definitely a curious person, and he isn’t afraid to show that.
Phil raises his eyebrows, but then shrugs his shoulders.
Phil has been showing a lot of interest in the process of The Hunger Games, so Snow finally is allowing him to tag along with Plutarch for the day. Phil hopes to see Dan today as well. It’s been a few days since they have last run into each other and Phil misses him, even though they have only spoke a few minutes, Phil can’t stop thinking about the boy from District 6..
Phil knew there would be a chance that he would never get to see him again, which is one of the main reasons why he wanted to see him again, at least once more before the Games.
“Dan Howell, District 6!”
Phil’s head immediately perks up when he hears Dan’s name being announced. He bites his lip nervously as he looks over at the door, and then he takes a deep breath when he sees Dan walk out.
“You have ten minutes to perform your skill,” Phil hears a voice call.
Dan glances up and smiles a little when he sees Phil, to which Phil gives him a little wave and a smile. Knowing that Phil is there definitely calms Dan’s nerves a little.
***
The next day they’re at the training center, where the tributes spend the day training for the Games that will be starting in less than four days now. Phil can’t believe how soon the Games were happening, and part of him is a little sad because a lot of the tributes were quite nice and lovely.
Phil looks around the room, seeing that all the tributes were already working and training. He smiles when he spots Louise across the room, and he instantly walks over to her, where she is working on trying to start a fire. The only thing that’s currently on his mind is Dan, he wants to see Dan at least one more time before the Games start. They barely know each other, but Phil is so attached to the boy.
“Hi,” Phil speaks once he reaches Louise. Phil knows that Louise is Dan’s best friend from back home.
Louise glances over when she hears the voice and smiles shyly when she sees Phil. “Hi,”
“I’m Phil,” Phil introduces politely before he shakes hands with Louise. “Do you know where Dan is?”
“He’s over there,” Louise tells him kindly as she points over at Dan, who was currently throwing knives into one of the walls. Phil looks over and raises his eyebrows as soon as he sees Dan. He really didn’t expect Dan to be so good with knives. Though Dan did get a ten for throwing knives at the evaluation.
“Thank you,” Phil gives Louise a smile before walking to Dan, being sure to stay back a little though, as Dan was throwing knives, and Phil doesn’t want to get in his way. “Hi.” Phil finally speaks after a moment.
Dan looks up in surprise, not expecting to see Phil in the training center, especially with the other tributes, “Hi,” Dan replies, not looking Phil in the eyes while speaking. “Can I help you?” He asks, a bit harsh.
Dan surprises him with his harsh tone. Before, Dan seemed so open to talking with him. “Um, not really, it’s just that… I didn’t expect you to be so good at this.” He shrugs.
Dan gives Phil a fake sad face, and then scoffs, “You watched me in the evaluation, you should know…” With that, Dan walks away. He doesn’t want to get to attached to Phil, after all he is going to die.
Dan looks for Louise, he knew where’d she be, and of course, he finds her with the camo paints. Before this all happened, Dan would watch her paint for hours back in District 6, he found peace in doing so. “Louise?” Dan speaks quietly, trying not to startle her.
Louise’s head perks up as soon as she hears Dan’s soft voice. “Oh, Dan!” Louise exclaims excitedly. “Look at this… it’s absolutely amazing,” she picks up her hand and places it against a fake willow tree. Her hand perfectly blends in with it. Dan smiles slightly as he watches her show off her skill.
Of course Dan is very happy for Louise, having this beautiful skill that would be useful in the Games… but, they both knew that she wouldn’t be the one winning the Games and with that depressing thought, Dan lets out a sad sigh, and then he plops down next to her. Dan needs a break anyways.
Phil was hurt by the way Dan had just treated him. He doesn’t understand why Dan had just done that, and then walked away from him without saying another word to him. He thought they were friendly towards each other? Perhaps Phil said something before that upset Dan, or he did something wrong.
Phil has absolutely no clue, and honestly, his feelings were hurt.
Phil sighs as he nervously stands there, looking around, unsure of what he should do now. He was hoping to talk to Dan a little more, but it seems that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe Phil could try one last time.
Phil hesitates before walking over to where Louise was, glancing at Dan once before looking back at her.
“What are you doing?” Phil asks curiously, watching Louise.
Louise looks over at Phil and age gives him a friendly smile. “Oh, this? Camo. It’s paint, and you can paint on yourself so it helps you to hide from the others. It seems to work. I’ve done this a lot back in District 6, right Dan?” She looks up at Dan and frowns slightly when he just shrugs. The way he was behaving now is totally unlike him, but she tries not to worry about it and focuses on her training.
Phil sighs quietly as he watches Dan, and then he looks over when his bodyguard walked over to him.
“You’ve been ordered to leave Lester,” the bodyguard says.
Phil frowns. “But Grandpa Snow said I could stay for a few hours,” he protests quickly.
“This is very serious, Lester. We’re getting complaints you’re distracting the tributes from their training. You’re going to have to leave so they can train for the Games. You, out of everyone, must know this,”
Louise gives Phil a sympathetic smile before she returns to her training.
Phil looks back at Dan one last time, before he follows the bodyguard out of the training center.
Phil just hopes that he will be able to catch Dan one last time before the Games. He feels determined.
***
“This place is so cool!” Phil exclaims as he walks into the tributes center with President Snow.
“Settle down Phil, we talked about this,” Snow warns, looking down at Phil sternly.
“S-Sorry grandpa,” Phil mumbles. “Where will I go while you do your um, business?”
“You’ll stay down here and Vivian will watch you,” Snow tells him.
“Grandpa, I’m sixteen years old. Do I really need to have a babysitter?” Phil groans.
“The night before the Games? Yes,” Snow sighs. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Okay,” Phil smiles as he watches Grandpa Snow walk off with a few other important people.
“You’ll let me know if you need anything?” Vivian asks.
Phil nods in response. “Of course. I’ll just be around here somewhere. Can I go outside?”
“I suppose, but stay close. President Snow will have a fit if you go off too far,” Vivian shakes her head.
“I know,” Phil sighs as he watches Vivian walk into one of the lounges. Phil looks around quickly, and then his eyes light up the second he sees Dan walk out of the elevator.
Even though Phil is still pretty upset about how Dan treated him a few days ago, but he still wants to say hi at least one last time before the Games, and hopefully they’ll be able to talk a little more this time.
Phil takes a deep breath before he walks over to Dan. “Dan. Um-” Phil hesitates as Dan looks up at him, hoping that Dan won’t blow him off this time. Dan seems to be in a much more calmer mood this time “Um, I-I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened the other day at the training center.”
Dan starts to open is mouth to speak but quickly stops himself and looks down at his hands. “No it’s okay, I was the one acting cold towards you. I should be the one apologizing to you,” Dan lets out a small breath before continuing, “It’s just… I didn’t want to get attached to you, because you and I both know that we won’t see each other again after the Games start.”
Phil and Dan were silent for a moment before Phil speaks up again. “Look Dan, I know you don’t want to get attached to anyone but can we at least pretend to be friends, just for tonight, please?” Phil hasn’t gone against his grandfather’s orders for nothing. Dan is someone that he cares about.
Dan looks up and Phil, and luckily gives him a nod. Then gently pats the spot next to him, waiting for Phil to sit as well. They sat for a while, listening to the slight breeze and the people of the Capitol below them.
“Hey Dan, can you tell me about your life back in your district?” Phil asks quietly. Phil has always heard stories about what happened in the districts, but he never knew how much of the stories were true.
Dan is quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I guess I can, but you know it might take a little bit…” He hopes that will get Phil to change his mind, as a lot of bad things happened in his past back home.
But Phil just lays back and says, “Then we better get started.”
Dan leans against the pillar behind him and tries to pick a place for him to start. The day his dad unfortunately left comes to mind, he finally begins speaking. “Well... the week I turned twelve years old, me and my little brother, Alex, went to visit my dad at his job. He fixed trains and he would make sure that the control systems worked. We looked for his train, and when we finally found it, people were crowded around it. I grabbed Alex’s hand and pushed us to the front and when we got there…” Dan’s eyes stung, as he’s trying his best not to cry. The memories were painful to relive. “My dad… H-He was mangled in between the train cars,” he stops for a moment. “Neither of us could move as we watched the peacekeepers dragged his body away.” Dan finally looks up at Phil, who looks almost as if he was crying, and Dan wonders why he himself wasn’t crying yet. He has just talked about his father’s death after all, maybe it’s because at this point he had nothing to cry about, his life was pretty much over.
“I-I’m sorry Dan, that must of been really awful for you and your family. I can’t even imagine what that would be like to see that at such a young age,” Phil frowns. Phil has also lost his parents at a young age, so he definitely knows what Dan is going through, in some ways. But Phil doesn’t remember his parents.
Phil looks over at him and asks if he would continue the story, Dan nods.
“After that, Alex stayed in most days. He would help my mom clean the house or make all of us dinner, and I learned how to use throwing knives to hunt for my family…” He closes his eyes for a moment, remembering what it felt like to go running through the forest, being happy and free back in District 6. ”Then, I started writing. I found that I was really good at it. I would write whole stories in a day, sometimes I would go out into the woods and write there. I found it much easier. For some reason, I loved the trees. Every day I would just run through them for hours.” At this point, there were no stopping the tears now. Dan desperately wants to be home with his family. He would give anything to smell the pine trees again, he hates how life played with him like a puppet. Nothing was okay anymore, nothing at all.
Suddenly, Dan feels a pair of arms snake around his waist, and he’s shaken out of his thoughts. He looks and sees that it’s just Phil wanting to comfort him. Phil’s warm, and he even smells faintly like that smell that he missed so much, Phil is lucky that he doesn’t ever have to go through the Games.
”I’m so sorry Dan… I really am. I know you can win. Do it for your brother, do it so you can go home and run through the forest again.” They stay hugging. And, for a single moment, Dan thinks that maybe he actually has a chance of winning the games, for the first time since his name was drawn at the reaping.
“Phil, I’m getting tired,” Dan yawns after he spoke.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up,” Phil has a faint blush on his cheeks. Though, a huge part of him wishes that he could stay with Dan all night, but he knows that Dan needs as much sleep as possible.
“It’s okay. I didn’t mind being out here with you. Actually… I was thinking maybe would you come with me. I don’t think that I can sleep on my own after talking about my dad,” Dan looks down at his hands shyly.
“Of course. Come on then, let’s go!” With that, Phil gently grabs Dan’s hand and they walk to his room, luckily nobody sees Phil go into Dan’s bedroom with him. He was sure they would have gotten in trouble.
Phil manages to stay for a few hours with Dan, slightly thankful that Dan had fallen asleep before he left, because Dan was still a little shaken up after talking about his father’s death and District 6. Phil desperately wants Dan to win now more than ever. He truly cares about Dan, even if they have only known each other for less than a week. Phil just feels so attached to the boy, and he absolutely hates that Dan is going into the Games, there’s a ninety nine percent chance that he isn’t going to make it out alive. But, Phil has hope. Phil believes in Dan, that he’ll make it through to the end.
“Where have you been?” Vivian asks with frustration when Phil finally walks back out to the entrance.
Phil blinks a few times, Vivian startling him slightly. “Um, I=I was... outside,” he’s partially telling the truth. He has been outside, but he can’t tell her that he’s been upstairs with Dan, cuddling, specifically.
“Outside? I looked everywhere for you. We’re supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes,” Vivian sighs and shakes her head. “This is exactly why President Snow never brought you to these things, you know?”
Phil frowns as he looks up at Vivian. “I’m sorry, alright? I just got distracted is all. This place is massive, and I can explore it for days. I’m always stuck in the mansion so I was kind of taking advantage of being outside while I can be,” he mumbles. “It’ll only get worse when the Games start.”
“At least let me know where you’re going to be at next time,” she warns.
“Okay,” Phil crosses his arms against his chest and sighs.
“Sorry for snapping… but can you blame me? It’s the night before the Games start and things get crazy during these times. President Snow would literally murder me if anything happened to you,” Vivian says.
“Do you think I could go with Dan before he leaves for the Games?” Phil blurts out.
“Dan? As in Dan Howell?” Vivian asks, and Phil nods. “Have you been speaking to him?”
“Um, well… kind of, not really. We’ve only spoken to each other a few times-” Phil quickly tries to lie. “But… I want to see him one last time before he goes into the Games. Please, can I?” He asks hopefully.
“That’s something you’ll have to talk with President Snow about,” Vivian says.
Phil begs and pleads before President Snow finally agrees for him let him to be with Dan before he enters the arena. Dan told him the night they were cuddling that nobody would be there for him. Their mentor is going to be with Louise, and so Phil feels bad that nobody will be there to comfort Dan.
Dan and Phil only have two minutes to spare with each other before the Games start. Phil’s very nervous, but he can’t even imagine how Dan’s feeling at that moment. Dan must be so nervous and so scared.
“You look amazing,” Phil whispers as he stands with Dan.
“Thanks,” Dan blushes at Phil’s kind words. “I don’t feel amazing though. I’m about to go into battle.”
“I know,” Phil sighs sadly, and then he hesitates before reaching over and taking Dan’s hand in his.
“Aren’t there cameras around here?” Dan asks, immediately looking up at Phil with wide eyes.
“I’ll deal with my grandfather later. I just want to be with you,” Phil mumbles.
It’s silent for a moment between the two, before Dan suddenly flings his arms around Phil’s neck and hugs him tightly., surprising Phil by his action. But, Phil doesn’t hesitate to hug the boy back.
“You’re going to win,” Phil whispers as he holds onto Dan tightly.
“How can I?” Dan cries, sniffing a few times. “You’ve seen the other tributes…”
“Hide, okay? Just hide and you’ll be fine,” Phil takes a deep breath. “Only go out when you need to.”
“One minute…”
Phil closes his eyes as he continues to hold Dan, knowing that he needs as much comfort as he can get right now before all hell breaks loose in the Games. Phil wishes that he could just take Dan far away from here and take him somewhere where he would be safe, with no chance of being killed by anyone.
“Okay Dan, just get what you need, and then get out. Don’t kill anyone unless you have to. Just go hide, and make sure you have enough food and water to last you. You don’t have to kill anyone,” Phil whispers, knowing that killing is the one thing that Dan has been worrying about this whole time.
Dan nods and he takes a deep breath before he pulls away from Phil. “Thank you…” He whispers as he looks up at him. “For being here for me today, I mean. I didn’t have anyone unlike Louise does. Everybody loves her and nobody cares about me-” Dan sighs sadly.
“I care about you… I wouldn’t have been anywhere else,” Phil smiles. “I know you can win this.”
“You seem to be the only person who has faith in me,” Dan sniffs.
“I know the other tributes want to work with you, so if they offer you a deal, take it when you need it, okay? I’ll be cheering for you no matter what happens though,” Phil promises.
“At least I know someone will be cheering for me,” Dan mumbles.
“Of course. I don’t care about those other tributes. I only care about you,” Phil tells him.
“Do you really mean that? Or are you just saying that?” Dan asks, tilting his head slightly.
“Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?” Phil asks, blinking a few times.
“Thank you,” Dan hugs him one last time.
Phil steps away when the countdown from twenty seconds started. He watches as Dan got into the tube and then it locks. Phil waves to Dan, while giving him a smile of reassurance.
“Good luck,” Phil says, even though Dan probably couldn’t hear him.
Twenty seconds later, and Dan’s gone.
Phil sighs as he closes his eyes, hoping and praying for Dan to be okay and he would make it out alive, because Phil knew that Dan can do it. Dan just needs to have a little confidence and faith in himself.
When Phil gets back to the mansion, of course his grandpa has quite a few things to say to him about being in contact with Dan this whole time. Phil knew his grandpa wouldn’t be happy about it.
“I thought I told you, Philip. You were not supposed to be speaking to any of them,” Snow warns.
“I’m sorry grandpa, I just… I couldn’t help it!” Phil exclaims, sighing.
Of course Snow would have found out about him and Dan. Nothing ever stays a secret around here.
“Couldn’t help it? You were acting as if he were your boyfriend,” Snow snaps.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Phil mumbles, looking away. “A boy like him would never date me…”
“Excuse me?” Snow asks, the words Phil spoke shocking him. He’s never heard Phil speak like that, and he doesn’t like what he’s hearing either. Phil never talks to him about his personal love life.
“U-Uh… nothing. C-Can we just watch the Games?” Phil asks, his cheeks turning bright red.
That was too close, and Phil can’t allow his grandpa to find out about his real sexuality.
****
Dan’s stomach is churning, a feeling of nausea arising in his throat as he ascends in the tube. His eyes were hurting with the artificial light when he finally emerges, blinking around at the other tributes as the last ten seconds were counting down. Dan can’t believe this is actually happening right now, even though he’s been preparing for the Games for almost a week now.
Louise catches his eye from across the field, and then she gives him a smile and a nearly miniscule nod. Just from that, Dan can tell that she’s was going to be meeting him wherever he went. He then quickly looks at the items in the middle of the arena, taking notice of a certain bag with a few throwing knives, which would be excellent if Dan can get his hands on those throwing knives.
The entire arena is silent when the clock down struck zero. And then, all hell broke loose.
With as much stamina and agility as possible, Dan takes in a small breath and leapt, falling into the grass with a harsh sting in his legs. He wills himself to ignore the pain. A second in, and he’s already hurt. But, he’s ignoring the way his ankle twists under him as he sprints to the middle of the arena. There were tributes all around him, screaming, and his ears were ringing as the first canon strikes the air.
The first death.
Dan reaches out as he nears the bag, grabbing it with a shaking hand before stuffing the throwing knives into the bag as soon as he gets them. He’s almost pleasantly surprised at how utterly easy this seems. That is, until something hit his back with a large thump and threw him to the ground.
He falls onto his stomach, the breath being knocked out of him instantly. Then, someone’s on top of him, pressing his face into the dirt to where he could literally taste the mud, gritty and covering his tongue with the disgusting substance. He thrashes his arms and legs, bucking in an attempt to throw the person off, but all he achieves is turning his body around so he can see who exactly is on top of him.
He recognizes the girl from District 2, beautiful platinum hair in a messy bun and black eyes full of death. She’s much stronger than him, that much is obvious, from having years of training for this exact moment. She grins evilly as her arms wrap around his neck, Dan can feel her nails pressing into his skin now, choking him and he’s already preparing himself for his death.
This is it, he decides, flailing his arms in an attempt to throw her off. To no avail.
Five minutes into the games and I’m already dead, Dan thinks.
Just as the thought fills to his head, a thud resonates through his ears, and the girl falls limp on top of him. A hand then pulls him up, forcing him to stand though his throat is sore and he couldn’t stop coughing from being shoved into the dirt and mud, and then the same hand was forcing him to run. He looks up through teary eyes to find the blonde head of Louise in front of him, practically dragging him to the forest.
“You saved my life,” he gasps once they’re finally far enough away from everyone else, his free hand gently stroking at his already now sore neck. Half of his body is aching and he’s done nothing.
“Of course I did, you numpty!” She snorts. Dan briefly wonders how she wasn’t worn out from running, but doesn’t question it as there were more important things to worry about. “We’re not friends for nothing.”
“I really thought I was going to die,” Dan breathes, trying to catch his breath back.
“Good thing you’ve got me to look after you, huh?” Louise grins. “I think we’re pretty far from the others…”
“We should find a place to hide,” Dan says. “A tree or something.”
“A tree? You think a tree is the best place to hide?” Louise asks, raising her eyebrows.
“If we hide in a cave, then it’ll be too obvious. We have to be high up,” Dan explains. He’s already getting a headache and becoming stressed. Dan doesn’t want to leave Louise, but it’s obvious that there is absolutely no other choice. They’d both be dead if they stay together.
“So, we’re sticking together then? Is that a good idea, Dan? Only one of us can win this whole thing... and I really don’t want to have to be the person to kill you,” Louise says quietly
Dan takes a deep breath, nodding in agreement to Louise’s statement. “I suppose you’re right…”
“We both have different ways of survival. I’ll be fine. Just, be careful?” Louise steps closer to him and she pulls him into a hug. “Here-” She holds up the bag she had in her hands and hands Dan a bottle of water.
“Are you out of your mind?” Dan asks, his eyes going wide.
“I have one for me as well, so no need to worry,” Louise smiles. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Shut up,” Dan laughs, surprising himself. But, this is Louise. She can make him laugh in any situation. “Good luck, Louise.” He watches as Louise turns around and she starts heading off deeper into the forest, his heart breaking at the thought that this can be the very last time that he sees her. Louise is too pure and innocent to have to go through something like this. Someone like her shouldn’t be here.
Dan looks around and sighs, feeling of devastation washes over him when he realizes that he no longer has the throwing knives that he collected earlier. Now, he only has the bottled water that Louise gave him, which he’s very grateful for. This should last him for a day. Maybe even two days if he’s careful.
Dan walks around for nearly an hour until he finally finds a tall enough tree that he can use for hiding, and climbs to the top, hoping that nobody saw him climbing the tree. Hopefully, he’ll be safe here for awhile.
****
Relief. That’s how Phil feels once he sees that Dan’s finally found someplace safe to be in the arena. Phil’s been watching him all day on the television, only taking breaks when he absolutely needs to.
“It’s late, Philip, you need to go to bed,” President Snow sighs as he stood in the doorway of the lounge, where Phil has been watching the Games all day, watching Dan’s every move.
“But, I don’t want to miss anything,” Phil whines, though you could tell by his voice that he was tired.
“With the way things are going now, I highly doubt you’ll miss anything,” President Snow says.
Phil bites his lip as he looked over at the television again, debating quietly to himself.
“Okay, how about this… as soon as anything interesting happens, I’ll wake you?” President Snow suggests as he crosses his arms against his chest. “It’s late. Go to bed. You need sleep.”
“Fine,” Phil groans before he finally turns the tv off. “Promise you’ll wake me up if something happens?” He takes a deep breath. “I just need to know if he’s okay.”
“I told you I would, didn’t I?” President Snow raises his eyebrows.
Phil pouts, and then he stands up and walks out of the lounge to go to his bedroom.
The only thing on his mind is Dan, and hoping that the boy is okay. That he’s safe.
When Phil wakes up in the morning, he quickly finds the nearest tv he can find, and turns on the Games, and he’s happy when he sees that Dan is still alive. They have already announced deaths that happened on the first night, and Phil’s heartbroken when he sees that Louise didn’t make it.
Phil doesn’t even want to imagine how Dan felt when he saw her picture up in the sky.
Though, it’s bittersweet because Louise was a lovely girl, but Dan is still alive.
“Why do I have a feeling Howell will be the one to win?”
Phil jumps at the sudden voice and sighs in relief when he looks over only to see that it’s just Vivian.
“You think Dan will win?” Phil asks, sitting up a little on the couch, trying to hide his smile.
“Perhaps,” Vivian nods before she hands Phil his plate of breakfast. “He’s a very smart boy.”
“Oh, he is. I know it doesn’t seem like it at first looks but… I’ve seen him, he’s very smart,” Phil nods, and quietly thanks Vivian as he takes the breakfast plate from her, setting it beside him.
“So, what’s gotten you so attracted to this boy?” Vivian asks as she crosses her arms against her chest, smirking slightly as soon as she noticed Phil’s cheeks turning bright pink from blushing.
“What do you mean?” Phil asks, biting his lip nervously.
“I saw how you were with him when you were saying goodbye to him. It’s obvious you care about him,”
“Well… of course I care about him,” Phil says. There’s no point in denying that he cares about Dan, because it’s the truth. He does care about Dan. “But, that doesn’t mean anything?”
“Okay, if you say so. But, you should watch yourself. I’m not sure how President Snow will feel about this,”
“It’s not like he would do anything to me, right? I’m his grandson. We’re family,” Phil frowns. This talk with Vivian did not make him feel any better about telling Snow about his sexuality
“You’d be surprised. Just, promise me that you’ll be careful?” Vivian asks softly.
Phil nods and gives her a reassuring smile. “I’ll try my best,” he tells her.
“Eat your breakfast. Don’t let it get cold,” Vivian warns before turning and walking away.
Phil sighs and glances back at the tv, biting his lip as he keeps his eyes on Dan.
***
As days pass by, Phil’s getting more anxious and scared for Dan the longer he’s in the Games.
It’s been five days since the Games have started, and there were now only six people left in total.
Dan’s doing pretty well for being on his own while other tributes teamed up with each other. Of course, Dan’s seriously injured and starvation isn’t helping either, and Phil desperately wishes he could help him.
But, President Snow wouldn’t allow it as he has already helped Dan with fresh water once.
“We can’t do anything?” Phil asks, crossing his arms as he stands in front of his grandpa’s desk.
“No, Philip. Don’t make me tell you again,” President Snow snaps.
Phil sighs sadly. “But, he’s the only one fighting on his own!”
“That’s his choice. He chose to stay up in the trees the whole time while the other tributes made alliances with each other and now he’s the odd one out,” President Snow says.
“It’s kept him alive, hasn’t it?” Phil asks. “And he’s only come down when he needs to.”
“But the other tributes know that he’s hiding in the trees now,” President Snow points out.
Phil bites his lip. “Well I have faith in him. He’s going to win. I just wish I could help him,”
“I’ve got more important things to do. Go find Vivian and get yourself lunch,” Snow tells him.
“Fine,” Phil huffs before turning around and going to find Vivian.
Phil can hardly think about eating when the only thing that’s been on his mind for a week is Dan.
Phil desperately wishes that he could do something to help, but in reality, he knew there was nothing, because even though he’s President Snow’s grandson, he still doesn’t have the power.
Only just a few more tributes left. Phil has faith that Dan will be able to win the The Hunger Games, and make it back home safely. He’ll get to go back home to see his family.
***
Dan can’t believe that he’s made it this far, considering he nearly died within’ the first five minutes.
Two people left. Him, and the boy tribute from District 1.
So far, Dan’s been hiding up in a very high tree and he’s doing a good job at keeping himself hidden, while also keeping his eyes peeled for the only other boy left. Dan desperately wants to go back down and try to find him, and kill him, but he was terrified of making a mistake and ending his life completely.
But, Dan is starving, and he hasn’t been able to eat anything in over two days now.
Dan needs to take a risk, and be brave. Dan needs to be the one to end this whole thing.
All he can think about is going back home to his family, and making his mother and his brother proud, and he wants to be able to see Phil again and thank him for everything that he did for him in the Games. Because without Phil, Dan would most likely be dead. Phil went out of his way to help him.
Dan takes a deep breath as he finally steps foot onto the ground for the first time in over two days. His legs are wobbly, but that’s to be expected when he’s been sitting in a tree with having no food at all.
It’s almost completely silent in the arena, and the silent terrifies Dan more than anything.
Anything can happen at any given moment from this point on, so Dan needs to keep his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. It’s completely exhausting, and honestly... Dan can’t wait to sleep again without having to worry about being attacked by another tribute.
That is, if he actually won the Games, of course.
Dan walks around for over an hour or two, trying to find food and fresh water.
Dan stops dead in his tracks and he sighs. He looks around and then he squints his eyes when he sees a pile of leaves that seem to have an object hidden inside. He carefully walks over to the pile of leaves, being careful to not make any loud noises that will get him into trouble.
Dan gasps as soon as he sees what the object is and quickly grabs it.
A bow and arrow with a couple of arrows still left in it. Dan assumes it must have been left over from one of the other tributes. Now Dan actually has a chance of winning the Games. He can’t believe his luck.
“Well, well…”
Dan jumps up at the sudden voice and quickly points the arrow at the boy from District 1.
“Williams,” Dan speaks, his voice cracking as he spoke, as it has been days since he actually spoke.
“Howell,” the boy speaks with a smirk on his face. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”
“Yeah,” Dan breathes. “Looks like it.” His eyes didn’t leave Williams, not once. One wrong move here, and he can find himself dead. He’s so close to winning the Games. So close to making his way back home.
Williams chuckles and shakes his head. “Might as well end it here,”
“Don’t you dare take any steps further,” Dan warns as he grabs a bow and points the arrow at Williams.
“You know it’s not nice to steal things that don’t belong to you,” Williams says.
Dan blinked a few times. “What are you talking about?” He asks.
“That’s my bow and arrow you have there,” Williams tells him, nodding at the object.
“Well maybe you should have kept it hidden better. It’s mine now,” Dan snaps.
“Do you even know how to shoot a bow and arrow?” Williams asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Should we find out?” Dan asks. His hands start to shake. Of course he’s shot a bow and arrow before, but he’s not what you would call an expert. He’s never practiced shooting one for real.
Never in his life has Dan killed someone, and he knows that he’s going to hate himself afterwards. But, Dan needs to end this. He wishes there could be another way out of this, but there simply isn’t.
“Go ahead Howell. Kill me. End it all now,” Williams says.
“You’re not even going to try to fight?” Dan asks, his heart breaking a little at how Williams is giving up.
“I’ve had plenty of time to think while being in here. In the Games. I think I’d rather be dead than continue living in this type of world. So yes, I’m asking you to kill me,” Williams whispers.
“There can be another way. We can get through this together,” Dan tries.
“There is no other way, Howell. Just fucking kill me!” Williams shouts loudly.
Without thinking for another second, Dan pulls the bow back and finally shoots the arrow, his eyes widen as he watches the boy fall to the ground. Dan gasps with shock and he falls onto the ground himself, and he quickly backs up against a tree, pulling his legs against his chest and letting tears pour out of his eyes.
“Congratulations Daniel Howell,”
Dan snaps his head up as soon as the voice speaks.
“You are the winner of the 77th Hunger Games,”
Dan sobs loudly and buries his face in his arms as even more tears pour out of his eyes.
Dan won. He actually won The Hunger Games. He’s going to be able to go home to his family.
It’s bittersweet, because Dan only won the Games by killing an innocent boy who begged for death. And, Dan can only hope that in the end, it will all be worth it.
10 Years Later;
Dan’s eyes slowly flutter open when he hears a door open, and he spots his husband, Phil Lester.
Dan can’t help but smile at the thought of the man, even though he’s extremely tired.
“Sorry love, did I wake you?”
Dan pushes himself up in sitting position, and leans back against the headboard. “What time is it?”
“Midnight,” Phil answers as he walks over to the bed. “Did you have another nightmare?”
“Yeah,” Dan mumbles as he rubs his eyes tiredly. “Nothing I’m not used to though, don’t worry.”
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Phil says before crawling onto the bed next to him. “I wish there was something more that I could do to make you feel better.” He wraps his arms around Dan and holds onto him.
“What were you doing?” Dan asks quietly as he rested his head on Phil’s chest.
“It appears your son is having trouble sleeping as well,”
Dan chuckles. “I guess Noah gets it from me, huh?” He looks up at Phil and smiles tiredly.
“Christmas is next week,” Phil reminds Dan. “We don’t have a tree yet.”
“That was such a random thought,” Dan can’t help but laugh.
“No it wasn’t. Come on, you know Christmas is always on my mind,” Phil grins.
Dan rolls his eyes and then he pushes himself off of Phil’s chest, and sits up.
“What’s wrong?” Phil asks, frowning as he watches Dan carefully.
“It’s been 10 years since the Games,” Dan said quietly. “The image is still…” He takes a deep breath, trying not to allow himself to cry. He’s already cried too much over the past.
“I know,” Phil whispers as he reaches over and grabs Dan’s hand. “I know, and I’m so sorry.”
“I wish we could have done something different. I never wanted to-”
“I know,” Phil pulls Dan close to him again. “But things are different now. Things are better. For all of us.”
“Do you think my dad would be proud of me?” Dan asks, looking up at Phil with watery eyes.
“Absolutely,” Phil nods. “I know he’s up there, smiling down at you. You changed the world for the better, you’re the reason why The Hunger Games no longer exist.”
Dan remembers the day clearly as if it were yesterday.
Dan remembers how angry people had been after Dan had won The Hunger Games. War broke out, and they had actually won against The Capitol. They were able to change things for the better.
No more Hunger Games, and Dan couldn’t be more grateful.
In the process, Phil had to lose his only family member that he had left. President Snow had to be killed. Looking back, Phil understands now that he wasn’t a great person despite the fact that he was family.
“I’m just thankful our son doesn’t have to go through what we went through,” Dan says.
“Me too, Dan,” Phil closes his eyes. “Me too.
84 notes
·
View notes
Note
Your colors lately are even more beautiful!!! Your art is amazing!
AHHHH thank you!!! so much!!!!!! I have, admittedly, finally been putting more effort into them haha it’s good to know it’s noticeable! ;;
Anon said:My dude, I want to own Bakugou's shirt in that Kamino squad drawing
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! happy you liked it!!!!! :D
Anon said:What do you think of Kaminari x Ibara or Toga x Twice?
I don’t really have strong feelings about either, honestly :O but the only person I really ship Ibara with is Tetsu, and I can’t say I’m much into villain-shipping in general
Anon said:Have you read Sweater Weather by crispykrimi?
Nope, I don’t really read tddk fics, sorry ^^’’
Anon said:Do you think kirishima goes to izuku and they talk about their relationships?
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm honestly, while I realize that Kiri and Deku are on friendly terms, given canon I’d say if Kirishima needs to talk to anyone about stuff he’s gonna go to either Baku, Kami, Sero, Tokoyami or Mina, since those are the people we’ve seen him open up to, in canon! Same goes for Deku, if he gotta open up to someone it’s gonna be Iida, Todoroki or Uraraka :0 well, it’s not like it’s impossible for them to talk about it, but I can see it happen more in a possible future where they’ve grown closer than they are atm in canon! At least imho haha
Anon said:I just wanna say that I’ve been following you for a pretty long time (since the tattoo au was just starting I think) and you’re art just continues to improve and look amazing as time goes on. I’ve always loved it but these past couple days I saw some of ur recent stuff and was just blown away bc it looks so good. Thanks for drawing and sharing ur art w us, I love seeing it!! I hope u have a good day!!!
THAT SURE IS A LONG TIME!!! I’m so happy to hear you stuck around that long aaahhhhhh ;; and thank you so so so much for the compliment, oh my god!!
Anon said:have you ever considered kiribaku getting hit by someone w/ a body-swapping quirk?
I have! It’s a trope I find real funny - but I’ve also seen a whole lot of art/fics for that topic already, would people even seriously be interested in seeing more? It looks like the type of thing that’s gonna come out more or less always the same, which is why I never really bothered to draw out my ideas haha
Anon said:Your kids!au makes me wanna write so bad.
THAT’S GOOD!!! Inspiring people is the best thing I could ever ask for!!!! (...remember to credit back to the post if you use any of my ideas tho ;; pls)
Anon said:Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!!! I love love love looovee the kiribaku kids!!!!!!!!! Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!
THANK YOU!!!! I’m super happy you like themmm!!!!!
Anon said:Hey:) just wanted to leave you a note to let you know how much i adore the way you draw Tamaki. Of course I love your kiribakus and bnha art in general, like your comics, but not a lot of people draw Tamaki and I really love yours:)
Holy smokes thank you!!!! Jiki is actually incredibly comfortable to draw, I’m glad you like my take on him! I’ve got so many unfinished sketches of him.... I should really try to finish those...................
Anon said:so this ask is like,, basically a huge appreciation ask for your comics bc they're cute and funny and they always light up my day!! on a side note: are you franeridan on ao3 bc if so I'm dying thank you for bookmarking my fics
Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!! And yes I am!!!! whatever fics they were if I bookmarked them they were for sure incredibly amazing and made my day better so thank you so much for using your time to write them!!!!!
Anon said:may i ask the heights of teenage mako and tai!!
Mako is just a little bit under 2m and Tai’s ~170cm! As things are then, Mako’s a lil bit taller than both Baku and Kiri while Tai is obviously shorter!
Anon said:i used your art for reference. is it ok if i post it crediting you and saying you drew the picture that i took reference from?
Sure, if it’s just for reference and credited I don’t mind! (but if you were using my stuff for pose references may I suggest you avoid doing that in the future cause my anatomy is absolutely terrible you’re just gonna end up making my same mistakes aaahhhhhhhhhhh ;; there’s lotsa more accurate refs around, believe me)
Anon said:please draw more shinsou he looks amazing in your style!!
Thank you! And sure, in the future why not!!
Anon said:Just wanted to let you know that I was scrolling through your bokuroo tag and 1) Aaaah I'm still so in love with how you draw kuroo and 2) I love how I can see the way your art style has improved over time and it's just so nice to see?? Bless your art so much and you're such a great person too I'm cry
SOB thank you so much oh my god, this really means the world to me???? ;; so many compliments holy smokes bless you
Anon said:Hi! I'm the anon that sent you the message about the A Day to Remember song for KiriBaku, and found another awesome song for them - Let Me Be by Escape the Fate. It's super cute and sappy for an alt/hardcore band and it fits Kiri more than Baku, imo, but could honestly come from either of their perspectives. ~SongAnon :)
AH GODS that’s sweet ;O; how come hardcore bands always go so soft on their ballads I cry - I feel it works perfectly from Baku’s pov too, tho!! Let him be Kiriiiiiii ;;; sweet
Anon said:I just wanted to say that I love your art and style as a whole, but I really really appreciate the way you draw Kirishimas eyebrows... like they look so simple but,,, they truly make my day 💕
Kirishima’s tiny eyebrows!!!! I’m glad you like them, they’re weirdly expressive and easy to draw honestly hahaha
Anon said:your art is shit //no no no nonno oo fdjsakfl;d I MEANT THE SHIT your art is the shit fjkdsa i'm so sorry i love you and your art this is why i can never compliment anyone ahhhhhhh //i'm crying omg i saw someone else send a separate ask to someone elase that was like your art is shit but it is the shit and i was like whoaaa how cool but noooooo jfsdakldsfa kms i'm sorry
This was a bit of a trainwreck ngl haha but it’s okay anon!!! It was an honest mistake, don’t worry too much about it!!! Thank you so so so much for liking my stuff
Anon said:Hi erm I believe that YouTuber "AnimeUproar" used your kinoko komori fanart without crediting you and I'm not sure whether you gave him permission. The title of the video is "EVERY QUIRK EXPLAINED! | Class 1-B (My Hero Academia / Boku no Hero Academia All Quirks)" // Same anon as before and he also used your Setsuna art in the same video. The kinoko art had your watermark cut off while the other one didn't but they still have no credit anywhere and I'm not sure whether you have permission. Sorry if you did and I'm just being stupid lmao but it's the same YouTuber and the same video in case you want to message him
If it’s not credited you can be sure I didn’t give them the green light to use it, honestly - but, you know. Whatever. I’m tired. Let them use it. It’s a video so it’s not even like people can save it and reupload it anywhere else. sigh
Anon said:I am like 2000 years late but,, your bakubaby sketches saved my life wow they’re so cute
*cries forever* thank you !!!!!!!!!!!! ;;O;;
Anon said:All of ur art especially recently is just??? Blowing me away?? Oh my god?? I just your coloring and then that fantasy one holy fuck the DETAILS I feel like I can touch it it's so good I can tell you put a lot of time into it it shows it shows so much god it's so high quality I'M STILL !?!?! your art seems to get better all the time thank youuuuuu for blessing us w it it's so incredibly lovely ahhhhhhhhh
I’M SO HECKING HAPPY YOU LIKED THAT ONE cause it really took forever honestly - it was fun from start to end so it’s fine, but, you know, it’s cool to see it was worth it haha thank you so so much for the complimentsss!!!!
Anon said:I love your art so much :') it makes me so happy whenever I get a notification from your blog
I still can’t believe people really have notifs on for this blog oh my g o d ;u; thank you
Anon said:I just wanted the share, that I came across your art in a trash, and scrolled down your blog looking for more, and I liked it so much that I decided to follow you... Only to find past self already did whoops haha. So I liked you enough to follow you twice!
THAT’S SO COOL!!! Holy smokes!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!! °O°
Anon said:I just went thru your whole art tag chronologically and omg you've come so far! Every time your art crosses my dash I smile and I'm happy every time I see it!
Have I? I have!! Sometimes I look at my really old art and I hate it and want to delete it but then I’m like, comparing it to the new stuff makes me feel good about it so it’s still there - that does mean sometimes people are gonna see the old stuff too, tho #rip I’m sorry you had to see that stuff, but thank you a lot for thinking I got better!!!!
Anon said:I love how Jirou's eyes look in your style. (How everything about her looks, too.) Damn, she's a stunner, isn't she?
*whispers* she is oh my g o d !!! I love Jirou. She’s just. So goodlooking. Gods. I’m glad you think she looks good in my style!!!
Anon said:ur momo and jirou are so beautiful!!! 💙 if i wasnt already as gay as it gets id have a major enlightenment rn ahhh
GOSH!!!! thank you so much!!!! :D
Anon said:have you considered... minamomo and/or kyooru
Never before Jirou and Tooru, actually, but I have thought about Mina and Momo and I’m still unsure about where that ship even came from. Like, not in the sense that I think it’s a bad ship, but in the sense that I really don’t understand it :0 why do you like Mina and Momo, anon? There’s so many people shipping it, I’m curious about where it came from! But every time I asked I got no answer #rip I wanna be interested in it, help me understand why it should be interesting!
Anon said:Have you ever considered Aoyama x Sero?? 10/10 recommend.
I haven’t! Mostly cause I generally hc Aoyama as ace, really - but that’s an interesting ship I might think about more :O
Anon said:I finally started reading BNHA again after dropping it in May and HOLY SHIT DID I MISS A LOT!! JUST THAT ARC WAS INSANE??
I know right??? I KNOW RIGHT????? I loved that arc from start to end, no lies anywhere, such a genuinely good arc!!!
Anon said:Hey fran, I just wanted to say that I like your art very much and that I love to see how much you are improving as time goes on. You are doing great. ♥
So many people telling me that I’m improving oh my g o d it makes me so happy ;u; thank you so so much
Anon said:ahhhh i loved your aokaga drawings, they're the cutest and I hope you make more of them being cute together!!!!
Eek, sorry anon but I’m really not into making content for that ship anymore ;^; I’m glad you still like the old things, tho!!
Anon said:I really wanted to tell you that I love your art so much I can't even explain. It cures my anxiety and I'm not kidding. When I feel down and shitty, I just go through your blog and your fanarts make my day (my favorite ever is your bokuro). The way you put the emotions into characters gives me life, honestly. Thank you for your art
THIS MEANS!!! THE WORLD!!!! TO ME!!!!! Knowing that I can help you like that is such a good feeling anon, holy heck!! Thank you so much for liking my things and sending this ask!!!
Anon said:heyo tell us abt some kami angst hcs :)))) tenk youu
Anon............. love............... whatever in this blog made you think I might have angst headcanon about anything..................... I’m the most fluff person around............
Anon said:That idea you had about making hagakure's costume out of her hair or something like mirio's!!! WHAT A GREAT IDEA IVE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE!! You're so smart! I LOVE IT
THANK YOU BUT IT WASN’T JUST MY IDEA!!! After Mirio explained his costume the idea was floating around on my dash a lot, it just made sense to a bunch of us!!
#fran answers#seriously so many people telling me my stuff is improving#it's making me so happy cause i feel like im slacking off so hard lately jesus christ ;u;#thank you !! <3#anonymous
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nighttime Photos
So I wrote a fic (Tumblr link/Ao3 link) back in December and people wanted more so here’s the sequel that’s basically about Richie taking pictures of Eddie for his photography final in college and they’re both gay and yeah. Summaries.
Word Count: About 7,000
Warnings: Some suggestive and slightly inappropriate language and swearing
Ao3
“No, no, no, no, no!” The growing frustration in Richie’s voice was clear as day. He felt bad about getting upset with Eddie, but he was getting real sick of this. “I said act natural, Eddie. This is the opposite of natural! It’s so clearly posed a blind man could tell!”
Eddie rubbed his temple, annoyed beyond belief. That seemed to be the number one emotion he felt around Richie: annoyance. He still liked the boy, a lot more than he probably cared to admit, but goddammit if he didn’t get on every single one of Eddie’s nerves. “‘Act natural, act natural, act natural!’ You sound like a broken fucking record! You can’t keep saying that without elaborating! I don’t see how anything I’m doing doesn’t look natural!”
The two boys glared at each other, eyes full of in-the-moment loathing. Right when it seemed like they were about to lunge at each other to rip out the other’s throat, the moment passed and they both looked away with heavy sighs.
It was near the end of the semester and stress was in the air. Final’s were quickly approaching, and while winter break was just after that, all anyone felt was pure dread and misery. The two college boys felt a heavy emphasis on the latter as Eddie tried to help Richie out with his photography final the Friday night before their last week of school for the semester.
Richie looked Eddie solidly in the eyes for a moment before glancing down at his beat-up shoes. “Look, I’m sorry about snapping it’s just this photo has to be flawless. If I fail this I fail the class, and that’s not going to be good.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. One of the first things Eddie had learned about Richie after the whole laundry fiasco, was that he loved camera, films, and photography. He was planning on becoming a filmmaker, and from what Eddie had seen, he definitely had an eye for the sort of stuff. He always knew what shot to get with what lightning and what position his subject should be in to naturally be focused on. Eddie was impressed, but the photography teacher at their university was not. This was leaving him stressed beyond belief, and that was, in turn, stressing Eddie out.
Richie hadn’t told Eddie much about what his final project was supposed to be. He just said that his teacher gave them all a word and it was their job to go out and capture it. Minutes after his class got out, Richie had arrived knocking on the door of Eddie’s dorm room, demanding that he model for him. Eddie was very reluctant about agreeing, but Richie’s cute begging face was kind of hard to say no to. His annoyingly persistent asking was the hardest part to say no to though.
Eddie wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to be doing, but Richie just told him to continue studying like he was and Richie would get his photo and everything would be fine and dandy. But the fact that Richie was there, sitting on Eddie’s bed behind him with a camera as he tried studying for his microbiology final, was beginning to stress him out.
Richie was also getting annoyed. Eddie heard him snap a few photos as he read his textbook but Richie just sighed every time he saw how the photo turned out. He would give Eddie some comment on what he could do so Richie could get his photo, but the advice was always vague and unhelpful like ‘act natural’ or ‘pretend I’m not here.’ Eddie knew what he was going for, but the advice was hard to put into action. He was burningly aware of Richie watching him like a hawk and it was making him act even more unnatural than ever.
“I know, I know. It’s just I don’t know what you want and you’re not exactly being helpful. I’m just studying! I don’t get how that looks unnatural…” Eddie grumbled, also looking at his shoes.
“It’s just your shoulders look really tense and it’s making these photos look more like I’ve taken you hostage than anything else!” Richie flopped back onto the bed, distressed.
“Look, Rich, I don’t think this is gonna work. Why don’t you just ask someone else to be your mo-“
“No!” Richie cut Eddie off quickly, sitting back up to stare him in the eye. “It has to be you.” His eyes were dead serious and his face was flushing red slightly.
Eddie looked at him wearily. He had no clue what Richie’s idea was but he was dead set on going through with it. Eddie was tired of being constantly being criticized for how he was studying, but he did want to help him out still. He sighed rubbing his face. “Okay, well regardless, this setup isn’t working, so what the fuck do you suggest, genius?”
Richie drummed his fingers on Eddie’s bed frame thoughtfully. “I believe that the biggest issue with you is that you’re too self-conscious around cameras. I’m sure if you weren’t aware that your picture was being taken, you’d look just fine.”
“Yeah, well, you’re right here and you’re pretty hard to ignore. I’m not just going to forget the fact that you have a camera pointed at me.”
“No, what we need is a distraction…” Richie trailed off, deep in thought. Suddenly, he smirked and glanced at Eddie. “Well,” he said, voice heavy with some bad accent, “hows about I take you out, eh? Just you, me, and the town, darling. We’ll go anywhere and everywhere.” He winked at Eddie. He knew Richie was referencing some old movie with his bad New York accent, but he had no clue which movie specifically. That was another thing Eddie had been surprised to learn about Richie. He loved old black and white movies more than anything else, and he had about two dozen of them memorized by heart, from A Streetcar Named Desire to It’s A Wonderful Life.
Eddie couldn’t help but giggle at Richie’s bad accent. “You’re brilliant idea is to take me out so you can get your picture?” Eddie looked at Richie dubiously. The other boy nodded his head enthusiastically and Eddie caved. “I should be studying, but I won’t be able to do that until this damn thing’s done, so you know what? Why the hell not. Let’s go out.”
Richie jumped up with a cheer, pumping his fist in what he would probably call victory. “It’s a date then! Finally!” He then looked at Eddie, smiling his obnoxiously bright smile, and both boys suddenly looked away from each other, red-faced.
Richie had basically asked Eddie out when he brought him back his laundry, but neither boy ever mentioned that fact ever again. They both just sort of… pretended it never happened as they got to know each other better. Sure, they both were pining for each other, and Richie never stopped flirting, but neither one of them ever made a move. They had been close a few times leading to rather awkward and tense situations, but nothing ever did happen. It seems Richie had finally made the first move by calling them going out to work in his photography final a date.
“I mean,” Richie squeaked, “if you wanna call it a date then that’s fine with me.” His voice was a bit quiet. For all the talk he was, he’s never been in a relationship before, and was unnaturally shy and uncertain when it came to real intimacy.
Eddie’s face burned. His mind screamed at him to say something flirty back to fluster Richie in revenge for all the times he’s purposely done that to him, but his brain was basically a dead pile of mush at the moment. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” He managed to get out, coughing awkwardly at the end of his sentence.
Richie was first to recover, quickly reverting back to pretending to be the charming movie character he was a few moments ago. “Well, what are you doing just sitting there then, sweetheart? Let’s go! Love waits for no one, and while we may have our whole lives for it, I’d like to start sooner rather than later.”
Eddie slammed his textbook close, grabbing his keys and wallet off his nightstand as he gave Richie a little laugh. “What does that even mean?”
“It doesn’t matter!” He shouted, his New York accent more atrocious than it originally was. “All that matters is that with you by my side, I could take on the whole world by myself.” The look he gave Eddie was surprisingly more loving than he expected Richie to have while joking around. It was gone in a flash, but it still left a funny feeling in Eddie’s chest. “Now let’s go! While the night is still as young as we are.”
He grabbed Eddie’s hand, pulling him out of his room and down the hall. Richie may have been nearly a foot taller than he was, but Eddie had no problem keeping up with him. He was by his side following him step-for-step before they even reached the stairwell that would take them down to the ground floor. And yet, Eddie noticed Richie refused to let go of his hand. He didn’t really mind though. In fact, once they stepped outside and started heading downtown, Eddie pulled his arm to slow Richie down and slipped his fingers between the other boy’s so they were properly holding hands.
Richie, who was still rambling on about something in his bad accent, choked when he felt Eddie’s hand holding his. He glanced down at them quickly, eyes a bit wildly, before looking at Eddie. He had a pink tint on his face, and Eddie bet he probably had a matching blush on his own face. Eddie gave him a smile, and Richie quickly returned it.
“Whoa, Eddie. I knew I was irresistible, but I’m still surprised that you can’t keep your hands off of me this early on. I figured we at least had an hour before you gave in completely to my charm.”
Eddie scoffed. “Wow, way to kill the moment.” He pried his hand off of Richie’s to cross his arms in mock annoyance. “And you technically grabbed my hand first, for the record.”
“Wait, no,” Richie quickly grabbed Eddie’s hand again. “I was kidding. Please don’t take that seriously.” Richie mumbled something under his breath that Eddie missed.
“What was that?”
“I said I like holding your hand…”
Eddie smiled to himself, gently squeezing Richie’s hand. The taller boy rolled his eyes slightly but squeezed Eddie’s hand in return before starting to gently swing their arms back and forth.
It was cold and cloudy outside and neither of them knew where they were going. It seemed that their feet were just taking them wherever. Eddie found himself not caring even though he was usually one to stress over plans to an absurd degree. It just felt nice for once to go out and do whatever without having to worry about school or deadlines for a little bit. He almost even forgot that they had only gone out to work on Richie’s photography final. He probably would have too if it weren’t for the obnoxious camera hanging around Richie’s neck.
Richie, on the other hand, had some idea of where to go. When they walked the short distance from the university campus to the downtown portion of the town, he led Eddie by the hand across a few roads and down a few streets. Eddie had no idea where he was taking him, but he trusted Richie. Well, at least trusted him enough not to take them to a strip club or some back alley where they might get stabbed over the fifteen bucks the two of them probably had between them in their wallets.
And to his infinite relief, neither of those places were where the two boys ended up. In fact, Eddie was rather surprised to see that Richie had dragged him down to the pier on the west side of town that ran parallel to the ocean, and he was even more surprised to see how beautiful it looked right now.
Even though the night was still young, winter was quickly approaching and it was already twilight, quickly turning into dusk. The pier, to combat this growing darkness, was illuminated with lights twinkling from shops, lampposts, and strands of fairy lights that were put up everywhere. People milled about, talking and laughing and buying things that were for sale at the few shops and kiosks located along the pier. The water that they faced glowed and shimmered with the combined light of the dying sun and the few blossoming stars that shone in between the cracks of the clouds overhead. The air was fresh and salty and filled with the smell of something good cooking nearby. Eddie’s stomach grumbled as he remembered that he hadn’t eaten anything since before his morning class.
Eddie was so swept up in awe at the sight of the pier that he didn’t notice Richie drop his hand and reach for his camera until he saw it flash as he took a picture of him. Eddie jumped slightly at the shutter of the lens and looked at Richie who didn’t even notice him as he looked intensely down at the photo his camera just captured.
“How’d it turn out?” At this point, Eddie was almost scared to ask. He knew if it was bad, Richie would keep taking pictures of him all night. Even though he did want Richie to do well on his final, at the moment he just wanted to spend time with him without worrying about tests and assignments and everything else school related.
Richie clicked his tongue, eyebrows furrowed with what could only be described as mild distaste as he handed Eddie the camera to show him the picture.
His first thought was ‘damn, that’s a nice-ass picture.’ The resolution was immaculate, capturing every fine detail with acute precision. Eddie was perfectly positioned in the photo too, leaving just enough background detail to look good without taking away from the focus on the main subject. Richie had captured the lighting just right to clearly illuminate everything within the shot. After giving it a second look over though, he realized why Richie didn’t seem happy with it: it appears that Eddie probably turned away from Richie right as he took the photo. Though his body was in the right position, his head was turned too far to the left, making the main focus on the photo’s subject Eddie’s ear and the back of his head and not his face like it was probably supposed to be.
“Oh jeez, Rich, sorry.” Eddie handed the camera back to Richie and couldn’t help but feel a little bad about ruining what could have been a really great picture. Given, he had no idea that Richie was, in fact, taking his picture, otherwise, he wouldn’t have turned away. But that was also the opposite of what they were trying to do. Eddie needed to look natural in the photo, and knowing that he needed to look that way made him look atrociously unnatural.
Richie sighed good-naturedly as he slung the strap of his camera back around his neck. “It’s not your fault.” He quickly turned and gave him a beaming, cheerful smile that made Eddie’s chest feel warm and bright. “Guess we’ll just have to continue on with our date until I do get the right shot.”
Eddie laughed. “You’re an absolute dork, Richie Tozier.”
“Why I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Eddie Kaspback.”
“It’s ‘Kaspbrak,’ not ‘back.’”
“Is it now?”
“You’re a dipshit.”
“Right brak at ya, buddy.”
Eddie punched Richie lightly in the arm as he chuckled at his own joke. Richie really was a bit ridiculous. From his obnoxious glasses to his weird fashion choices to his absolutely terrible sense of humor that always made Eddie laugh for some reason. He supposed that’s probably why he liked him so much.
After pretending to recovery from the ‘injury’ Eddie inflicted on him, Richie made a big show of offering up his arm for Eddie to take. “Shall we go, my good sir? I believe even though we have arrived at its doorstep, the night is still waiting for us. We mustn’t keep it waiting!” He was doing his bad, old-timey New York accent again. Eddie was pretty sure he was acting out some scene from an old movie from the 50’s, but he had no clue which one, if any.
He carefully looped his arm through Richie’s. “If you keep talking in that dumb accent, I’m leaving and you’ll have to find a new model. That accent is the worst thing I have ever heard, Richie.”
“Fine,” Richie rolled his eyes slightly, dropping the accent, “you know you love it though.”
He kind of did. But he also would rather die than admit it so he just rolled his own eyes right back at Richie. “You fucking wish.”
Slowly, they began strolling casually down the pier, chatting and laughing at the jokes they made, stopping occasionally to look at something for sale in the window of a shop or see what a street vendor was offering. Eddie discovered the source of the delicious smell in the air to be fresh churros. He and Richie each bought one. They were warm and sweet, and that combined with the happiness he felt by being around Richie left his heart feeling giddy like he was having a really good daydream. It kind of was like what Eddie always imagined falling in love would feel like.
By the time the two of them had found the photo booth on the south end of the pier, the sun was completely gone from sight, leaving the sky a black void as clouds covered every inch of it. The night was cold, but Eddie hardly noticed it at the moment. Part of that probably had to do with the way Richie was leaning into his side.
“Eddie!” Richie shouted essentially right into his ear when he spotted the small photo booth, “Come on! Let’s get our picture taken!”
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. Richie had a type of joy to him right now that was positively infectious. “I don’t know, Richie. I’m kind of tired of having my picture taken tonight.”
Richie slumped against Eddie, going limp and letting most of his weight rest on the smaller boy. “But it’s not just you getting your picture taken. I’d be getting my picture taken too! It’d be the two of us. Together. C’mon, Ed.”
Eddie struggled to push Richie off of him. “Get off, Rich, you’re too heavy.”
Richie adjusted himself to drape more of his weight over Eddie. “I will if you agree to do the photo booth with me.” He was pouting. Eddie knew he probably had that dumb look on his face, the one he does when he’s trying to convince Eddie to do something. The look where he quirks his eyebrows up, sticks his bottom lip out, and looks up like a begging dog that wants food. He looked dumb as shit when he made that face, but it was kind of a cute dumb. Though Eddie would, of course, never admit that to Richie.
“Okay, fine! I’ll get my picture taken with you.” Richie cheered and Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he smiled. “Now get off of me before you destroy my spine, you big old lumbering behemoth.”
Richie laughed, straightening up and off of Eddie. “‘Behemoth?’ Please. It’s not my fault you’re the size of a Keebler elf.”
Eddie knows it was childish and would not help his case in the slightest, but he couldn’t help but stomp his foot down. “I’m not a fucking Keebler elf! You’re like the human equivalent of the Empire State Building.”
Richie stepped in front of Eddie and bent down so his face was right in front of Eddie’s. When his eyes were only a few inches away from his own, Eddie noticed that Richie had flakes of gold in his brown eyes. They were beautiful.
“You’re adorable, Eddie.” He reached out to pinch his cheek and Eddie instantly slapped his hand away. Both of their faces were tinted red. Richie straightened back up to his giant height and offered Eddie his hand. “Come on now, Eddie my boy. I believe a certain photo booth is just waiting to be graced by our gorgeous faces.”
Eddie snorted, grabbing Richie’s hand as they made their way over to the small booth. “‘Gorgeous?’ Please, Richie, I think you’re being a bit generous with yourself.”
“You’re right. I’m drop dead gorgeous. A twenty out of ten. You’re still positively breathtaking though, Eddie, don’t worry. Solid ten out of ten.”
Eddie’s face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. “A twenty out of ten? I’d have said you’re about a seven on a really good day.” That was a lie. Eddie knew Richie was beyond the twenty be claimed to be.
“Oof. Eddie, thoust wounds me so.” Richie was smiling right alongside Eddie though, squeezing his hand slightly. “I just wanted to think about how beautiful our children would be and here you go, shooting me down like this.”
Eddie pulled on Richie’s arm to get him to stop walking right in front of so he could stand right in front of him. He could see Richie fighting back the smile so he could pretend to have been wounded by Eddie’s words like he claimed to be. That made Eddie smile even harder.
“Okay, fine, Richie. You’re absolutely breathtaking. You may look dumb a lot of the time, with your trashy outfits and stupidly large glasses, but that doesn’t make you any less attractive in the slightest. You have really nice cheekbones, and really pretty eyes, and a stunning smile, and you’re just overall really beautiful.” Eddie wasn’t sure why he was saying these things. They were true, but that was a lot more intimate than he thinks he’s ever been. He also wasn’t sure what inspired him to do it, but he reached up and gently leaned Richie’s head down so he could press a kiss to his cheek.
Both boys’ faces were so red they were probably glowing in the night. Richie’s mind short-circuited when Eddie kissed his cheek, and he currently had one of the dopiest looks on his face Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. It was adorable.
The pier seemed miles away, and to the two of them, it felt like they were the only people on Earth.
The moment passed, and Richie recovered his mojo. “I knew you couldn’t resist my dashing looks and incredible charm.”
“Oh shut up, Rich. Come on. Let’s get our picture taken like you wanted.”
The photo booth was stupid small. The two boys struggled to completely get in the tiny box and it ended up with Eddie almost completely sitting on Richie’s lap. Eddie quickly shoved a dollar into the machine before Richie could make some cheeky comment about the situation they were in. Luckily for him, Richie was already too distracted by planning out how they should pose for the four pictures the booth would take.
“Okay, the first one needs to be silly. That’s the universal law of photo booths. The next one can be a casual and genuine, two of us smiling picture. The third one definitely needs to be Charlie’s Angels. And the last one-”
“What the fuck is ‘Charlie’s Angels’?”
“I’m so disappointed in you, Eddie.”
“What!”
“I won’t make you watch the entire TV series, but we’re definitely watching the movie now. I swear, sometimes it’s like you have no culture at all.”
“Sorry I don’t spend all my time brainlessly watching TV and movies.”
“But this is Charlie’s Angels, Eddie. A classic.”
“Still have no idea what that is.”
“Ugh. Just turn so we’re back to back and make a finger gun. That’s all I ask of you. Surely even a simpleton with no culture like yourself can do that.”
“If anyone here is a simpleton, it’s you.”
“Mhm. Sure. Hey, Eddie, simpletonsaywhat?”
“What…? Oh, fuck you, Tozier. What are you, twelve?”
“Twelve inches long, baby.”
“That’s fucking disgusting.”
“That’s not what your mother said last night.”
“Please. My mother wouldn’t say two words to such a crude individual as yourself.”
“You’re right. Plus, her mouth was too busy to be saying anyth-”
Eddie clapped his hands over his ears. “Lalalala, okay that’s enough. Please stop speaking or else I’m going to throw myself into the ocean. That was a mental image I never want to ever have again.”
Richie giggled to himself. He fucking giggled. The sound was so pure and sweet and innocent that it simultaneously made Eddie want to throw up and put Richie in his pocket so he could protect him from all the evil in the world.
Neither of them noticed that the photo booth has started until the first flash went off. Eddie jumped into surprise so hard he elbowed Richie and smacked the back of his head against the wall of the booth. The booth started counting backward from fifteen until the next photo would be taken.
“Oh shit,” Richie wheezed, grabbing his side, “I didn’t realize it started.” He sounded breathless and Eddie supposed he probably winded him when he elbowed the other boy in the gut.
Eddie groaned, grabbing his head. “Fuck. I didn’t either.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Richie sighed.
Another flash went off. These pictures were going terribly.
“Okay, this was a rough and painful start, but we can fix this. Come on, Eds, we can still do funny faces.”
“I kind of just want to die right now,” Eddie mumbled, still rubbing the back of his head.
“That’s no way to act! Smile!”
Richie sure recovered from being elbowed in the gut quickly, Eddie thought.
The other boy probably picked up on the fact that Eddie was not going to do the same before the photo booth ended, and decided to take action into his own hands.
Right as the countdown neared zero, Richie reached out, and to Eddie’s infinite horror, tickled him.
Eddie’s body reacted naturally to the feeling of Richie’s fingers tickling his sides, and the pain of his head was momentarily forgotten as he let out a high pitched shriek of laughter. Eddie would have been horrified by the sound he just made if he wasn’t already busy being horrified by the fact that Richie was tickling him.
The flash went off and Richie stopped tickling him, moving his arm to instead wrap itself around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. Eddie wanted to shove the prick away because tickling was essentially an unforgivable sin, but his mind went dead when it realized how close he was to Richie.
“Last one, Eds, we gotta make it count! Silly face!” Eddie was ready to give Richie the small piece of his mind that was still functioning because he was still slightly peeved about being tickled. But once again, Richie must have been thinking a few steps ahead of Eddie. He leaned over and kissed Eddie’s cheek very briefly before the countdown hit zero, and yup. He probably had a very silly look on his face right about now.
Eddie wasn’t able to notice the last camera flash going off. He didn’t notice Richie go through the final few options about what their photos would look like. He hardly even noticed that Richie was waiting for him to get off his lap so they could go out and get their photos that were being printed out. His mind was off somewhere drifting down a stream because Richie Tozier just kissed him.
Well, kissed his cheek. Something that Eddie did to him only moments ago. But he was still caught blissfully off guard by Richie doing the same thing back to him. Eddie briefly wondered if they would do more kissing later on and he felt his face redden at the thought.
A tap on his shoulder brought his attention back down to Earth. Richie was smirking at him and Eddie already knew he wasn’t going to like what the fucker was about to say.
“As much as I love any and all situations involving you sitting on my lap, I much rather go see how our photos turned out.”
It wasn’t as crude a comment as he was expecting Richie to make, but it still made him blush and scramble off the taller boy’s lap and out of the photo booth. The night was growing colder and a freezing breeze was blowing off the ocean and down the pier. Eddie shivered, wishing he thought to bring something warmer than his college hoodie.
Richie, who still seemed to be a few steps ahead of Eddie, followed him out of the booth and politely took his jacket off and draped it over Eddie’s shoulders. When he looked up at Richie, he was already waving his hand dismissively. “I’m flattered, but don’t worry about me, sweetheart. My looks are hot enough to keep me warm on this cold winter night.”
Eddie scrunched his face up and scoffed. “Sure, Richie. Sure.” He carefully slipped his arms through the sleeves of Richie’s jacket. It was rather heavy and a few sizes too big for him, but it was warm and had the familiar smell of musky cologne and cigarette smoke that Eddie’s come to associate with Richie. He quickly realized Richie was still looking at him and had probably noticed he was smelling his jacket so he mumbled a fast ‘thank you’ and grabbed the two strips of pictures the photo booth just printed to distract him. He handed Richie the second strip and looked down at the remaining one he held in his hand. Instantly, his heart took off on a roller coaster of emotions.
For starters, while Eddie was still busy being distracted by the fact Richie just kissed him, the other boy had selected a border for the photos that was covered in red cartoon hearts and had the word ‘soulmates’ written in cursive at the top. His own heart skipped a beat at the sight of all the little ones on the photos.
The next thing he noticed was how beautiful Richie looked in the first photo. His nose was scrunched up and his eyes were closed as he laughed. His smile was beaming and Eddie felt his breath stop as well as his heart.
Eddie, on the other hand, looked like someone had hit the back of his head with a shovel so hard he no longer knew where he was. That was kind of what he felt like anyways. Richie giggling like that was something he was not expecting in the slightest.
The second photo was a hot mess.
Richie’s eyes and nose were still scrunched, but this time it was in pain instead of joy. His hands were gripping his right side, right where Eddie elbowed him. Wonderful. Luckily for him though, his own face in the photo was mostly blocked out by the arm he had brought up to rub the back of his head. He kind of forgot he hit it. As soon as the thought returned to him he realized his head still was in pain. He did hit it pretty damn hard.
In the next photo, Eddie thought he kind of looked like a weasel crying out in pain as Richie tickled him. Richie, on the other hand, still looked absolutely gorgeous. He had such a happy and pure smile on his face, it briefly made Eddie forget that that smile was caused by the sick joy the other boy probably felt as he tortured Eddie. He decided that his beautiful smile could act as payment to make up for the tickling. He would excuse Richie’s actions just this once. Any other future tickling would be met full force with the entirety of Eddie’s wrath. That wrath may not have been a lot, probably about the size of a kitten when it came to Richie, but all be damned if this kitten’s claws couldn’t do some damage. Eddie mentally scolded his mind for thinking of himself as a kitten.
The final photo on the strip made Eddie laugh. Richie said silly faces, and that’s exactly what he got. Richie, after kissing Eddie’s cheek, had turned to face the camera, crossed his eyes, cocked his eyebrows, and stuck his tongue out as he made the most absurd looking smile Eddie’s ever seen. It was a rather cute photo of Richie. Eddie didn’t even look completely terrible in this photo. Well, not as terrible as he looked in every other photo at least. His mouth was open and eyes were a bit wide as they looked at Richie with an awe as intense as if he had just witnessed him put the stars in the sky. His face was tomato red, but he still thought the picture was very endearing in what was probably a silly way. It made him smile to himself as he remembered the feeling for Richie kissing him.
He carefully tucked the strip of photos into the pocket of his college hoodie so he would lose them or forget them in Richie’s jacket. When he turned back to Richie, he was met with a blinding flash as Richie took another picture of him with the camera he held in his hands.
“Ah, Jesus, Rich!” Eddie rubbed his eyes to try to clear them of the spots that plagued his sight.
“Whoops. Sorry, Eddie. You looked really cute and I saw it as an opening and took it. I guess I was a bit slow with the execution yet again though.” Richie clicked his tongue.
Eddie waved his hand, blinking as he continued to try and clear up his eyes. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Once his vision cleared, he looked up and gave Richie a smile of reassurance. The other boy smiled back down at him.
That was then that a small snowflake landed on Eddie’s nose.
Eddie crossed his eyes to look stare at the flake on his nose and saw that Richie was also looking at it. It slowly melted on his nose and Eddie moved his eyes to look at Richie’s. They shrugged at each other. Eddie then noticed that he could make out a few flakes in Richie’s hair. He squinted into the darkness to try and see if he could tell if it really was snowing or not. Deciding it was way too fucking dark to see anything in the endless void of the night sky, Eddie moved over to a nearby streetlamp to see better.
Under the light of the lamppost, Eddie was able to clearly see the dainty trickle of snow that was making its way down to the ground from the sky. It was light, not thick enough to stick to the ground, but it was also just the beginning. He hoped that as the night grew on the flakes would increase in size until they actually had snow on the ground. It was unlikely to be anything bigger than an inch or so, but something was still better than nothing. And this something was definitely beautiful as it swirled down lazily. Eddie was so captivated by the snowfall, that he didn’t notice Richie had once again aimed his camera at him until he heard the shutter of a photo being taken.
He looked over at Richie quickly, eyes wide with surprise. He had forgotten Richie even had his camera in the surprise of seeing snow. He had been so caught up in the moment that it had simply slipped his mind. He stared expectantly at the other boy.
“Well?” He prompted Richie, “How’d it turn out?”
Richie was dead silent, staring at the small screen on the back of the camera. He carefully observed every square inch of the photo, trying to engrave it into his retinas.
He had caught Eddie in the best lighting possible. The lamppost just slightly visible on the right side of the frame, in the same direction Eddie was facing, which made his face light up brilliantly. The pale freckles on his face were as clear as day. Richie could even make out the constellations they formed on his cheeks, which were tinted a slight red. And his eyes. Richie could go on about how Eddie’s eyes looked for days. The warm brown of his eyes was enhanced by the light, and he could have sworn there were bits of green visible within them in the photo. They were positively breathtaking. Speaking of breath, Eddie’s was visible in a small puff right in front of his face, proof of the cold night the picture was captured in. In addition to that, the small drops of falling snow also made that point quite nicely. The angle of the light made them visible and easy to see against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Richie could even see a few flakes resting gently on Eddie’s cheekbones and tangled up in his eyelashes. The photo he had just captured was a true picture of joy and amazement. Wonder and bliss. It was gorgeous, absolutely stunning. It was…
“Perfect.” Richie’s voice was no more than a quiet exhale. “It’s absolutely perfect, Eddie. You’re perfect”
Eddie’s face gradually reddened. He smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Ah jeez, Rich, no need to spoil a guy any more than you already have.”
“No, seriously, Eddie,” Richie tore his eyes away from the camera to look at him, “It’s beautiful.” He paused for a second. “You’re beautiful.”
Eddie’s body both froze and turned to jelly at the same time. He wasn’t sure who moved first, he’s pretty sure he took a stumbling step forward, but suddenly he and Richie were right in front of each other, faces nearly touching. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his chest, and if it wasn’t for fog forming on Richie’s glasses because he was breathing on them, he would have been certain his lungs forgot how to function. Eddie tentatively laid a hand on Richie’s chest and felt that his heart was beating just as fast as his own.
“That was the word, you know.” The taller boy said, and Eddie felt as though he had to strain to hear Richie’s voice, even though he was speaking only inches from his ears. His mind felt like it was miles away from here as it overloaded with a giddiness and anticipation he’s not quite sure he’s ever experienced before. “The word was ‘perfect,’ and I think I’ve finally found it.”
Eddie was sure if his body was working properly, blood would have rushed to his face or something. At the current moment though, all it could do was soak up the warmth that radiated off of Richie. After a moment he managed to wrangle enough brain cells in working condition together to speak back. “Shut up and kiss me already.” He felt as though future Eddie would cringe at what he just said, but at the moment, that’s all he felt.
Richie tilted his head forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s, lips just an inch away from each other. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” Richie felt like his future self would’ve kicked him over how stupid he sounded, but his mind felt like it had short-circuited again and was now on fire and he had no clue what to do about that. Richie felt Eddie grin against his lips and the fire within his brain went from a small house fire to an all-out wildfire.
“That’s okay.” Eddie’s voice was so small he wasn’t sure if he actually said any words of just moved his mouth like he was going to say them. “I haven’t either.”
“Awesome,” was all Richie said before he moved to close the distance.
The first thing that happened when he did, was their noses awkwardly pressed together. Richie tilted his head and tried again. This time, their noses were fine, except for the fact Richie’s glasses painfully pressed down onto Eddie’s face. Eddie huffed, grabbing the glasses off Richie’s facing and folding them up carefully to tuck into the front pocket of Richie’s flannel. Right as Eddie leaned back in to try kissing Richie again, the other boy smiled and laughed a bit, causing his teeth to nick slightly at Eddie’s bottom lip as he hurriedly tried to close his mouth again. The small boy let out a slight hiss of pain, bring a hand up to lay a finger on the afflicted part of his lip. It wasn’t bleeding, and both boys took it as a sign to try again.
This time, they were finally in sync, lips pressing together just right. For Eddie, he saw fireworks and was able to taste the cherry flavoring of Richie’s chapstick. For Richie, he felt an intense warmth bloom in his chest at the contact and was able to smell the clean scent of soap that lingered around Eddie. Both future versions of the boys would agree that there was only one word that could be used to describe their first kiss.
‘Perfect.’
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
inertia
Fic written for @wolf359bigbang2017
Artist: @fortheloveandsanityofbuckybarnes
Ensemble Cast and Lovelace/Minkowski/Mr. Kouldeka, Jacobi/Eiffel , Jacobi & Maxwell. 10k words.
Rating: Mature
Summary: Isabel Lovelace learns a secret, finds some truth, falls in love, creates a family, and saves the world. Roughly in that order.
Read on AO3 if you prefer
Starlight
(2010)
December
She gets the call late at night.
“Goddard Futurists wants you. Don't trust them. You can’t stop them.”
That's all voice says. It's barely more than a whisper. The call is unlisted, but she can locate the signal. Sacramento. It feels like the bottom of her stomach drops out. She breathes. She’s had a lot happen. A lot of weird things happen to her. And if this is where her answers start, then this is where her answers start.
Later, when Isabel Lovelace will come face to face with the man they call Cutter, she nearly laughs, she would have never trusted a man who looked at her like that.
Besides, the best way to get to do something is to tell her she can’t.
January
(2011)
San Francisco
Renee doesn’t like the cold. Never has, never will. She’s a summer person. She’s used to being overseas. Afghanistan was warm. It presumably is still warm, but she is not there. It’s hot and dry but at least she’s learnt to manage it. This is her first winter is years stateside. She’s adapting. It isn’t even that cold outside, thank god. But Isabel invited them out, ice skating of all things. And, well, her and Nik are more than a little infatuated.
They’ve known each other for three weeks. Renee and her husband were out, a local queer bar - being bi and trans means they still feel safer there than anywhere else, even though they pass pretty well. They aren’t looking for anyone. Not really. Renee likes curling up together and reading quietly, and listening to her husband rant over poorly written romance novels while they cook together. But, well, they’re domestic, not dead. And it’s fun to go out.
So they are. It was before the snow had fully settled everywhere else in the country, but it was still warm in California. And there she was. With her short, curly hair, and hypnotic dark eyes. Nic looks from the woman sitting at the bar to his wife, and they smile at each other, with knowing eyes.
They get drunk, drunker than they should. It’s kind of lost night of memories in her mind, but Renee has some snapshots. The way her husband unbuttoned his second button on his shirt, and though his olive complexion hides some of his flush, she knows him. She’s bright red, probably, white as they come. Lovelace runs her hands through her hair, and laughs and says, “I have important things to say,” and when they look at her with their hopeful eyes, she says, “you both are very pretty.”
She wakes up in the middle of her bed, sandwiched between her husband and Isabel. Isabel wakes instantly and violently when Renee shifts her weight.
“Fuck!” Then she seems to realize they’re all clothed. “We didn’t sleep together, did we?”
“Nope,” says Nik, in his pre-tea voice. Which is to say, rough and grumpy.
“God, you big baby,” says Renee. Then, worried, “Not you, Isabel. My useless husband is not a morning person.”
“Yeah, Air Force beats that out of you.”
There’s a half beat too long of silence. Then Renee says, “What did you say your last name was again?”
“Lovelace.” Then realization. “And yours is?”
“Minkowski.”
“I’m missing something,” says Nic.
“She, we, kept missing each other. Other than dates, we probably have very similar service records.”
“Minkowski has the best scores in training that haven’t been beaten in eight years.”
“Yeah, I beat Isabel Lovelace by two percent.”
“One point seven percent!”
“Oh,” says Nic.
“Yes,” says Isabel, “I held the record for less than a year until she came around. It matters less to me now.”
“Are you done?”
“Honorable discharge. I’m a consultant now.”
“Yeah, I’m with you. I’m a flight instructor, but consulting means I could transition.”
“That, well, that makes a disturbing amount of sense. God the system is fucked.”
“Ladies, I don’t want to face the frankly depressing oddities of the universe without french toast. Does that work for you two?” Nic is giving them a look, and she kisses his forehead and swats his ass as he gets out of bed. Isabel rolls her eyes.
(They flirt all through breakfast prep to a point where Nic gets so flustered he burns the french toast, Renee pours orange juice into the backup cereal, and Isabel, well, Isabel hides it better, but also wears a borrowed tank top out of the apartment and doesn’t realize until she gets dressed for work.)
Over breakfast, they establish Isabel works as some sort of government consultant, which, she frowns, is all she can tell them without an NDA. She also has paperwork she needs to do before tomorrow morning. Nic has an article due at midnight, so they part shortly after, well, coffee. They don’t fuck up coffee.
Isabel walks out the door with plans for Tuesday night dinner. It’s a little hole in the wall. But Nic loves the empanada and Isabel likes the beer so there they are. Then they talk for six hours. And they just, mesh well. Isabel is brilliant and bold and clever and fits in. But they fit with her, too.
The weather gets colder, but they grow more fond. Which brings them three weeks of dates and long conversations. There’s the awkward but deeply meant jump to hand holding, one night, as they walk back to the car, Isabel between them, when Renee reaches out and Isabel holds on and Nic reaches out and Isabel holds on.
(They each hope for the same thing but they don’t mention it, partially hidden in the moonlight.)
Which brings them to ice skating, with Isabel, who seems to love the cold box lit up with christmas lights. Because they’re ice skating in California. Annoying. She looks annoyingly cute in earmuffs, and Renee is sure that it’s a major factor. Nic shakes his head. “She’s probably just waiting to see us be terrible at skating.” He has that competitive look in his eyes. He was a figure skater for five years.
Nic holds one of their hands all night, since neither have the kind of skating confidence that was implied in the group chat earlier. It’s fine. It’s, beyond fine, if she’s being honest. She’s used to being a soldier, with tight control over her feelings but Isabel seems to have snuck through her normal defenses.
Then, for the first time since the night they met, Isabel comes back to their apartment. She sits in their kitchen, and they drink hot chocolate, when Isabel says, “I haven’t been entirely honest.”
“Okay,” she says. Nic nods. Isabel schools her face, and Renee can see how her face changes from the funny woman she’s more than a little ways to be being in love with, to the very capable soldier that lies beneath.
“Does the name Goddard Futuristics mean anything to you two?”
Nic drops his mug. It shatters on the floor, spilling the rest of his hot chocolate. She liked that mug. He doesn’t even realize, he looks Isabel deep in the eyes and says, “Tell me right now who you work for.”
“The secret lovechild of NASA and the FBI. Goddard was interested in me. I got away. Now they’re interested in Renee. Not, being actively pursued, but, interested.”
She is, for the first time in a while, completely out of her depth.
“What, who, is interested in me? Goddard is that clean energy company right?”
Nic, for his part, just, sweeps up the remains of his mug, and takes out the rum. He pours a shot in Isabel’s mug, and then hers, and then takes a swig from the bottle. Isabel watches him carefully.
“Goddard, on paper, is a parent company of many other companies, but is the ultimate driving force behind the competition in space travel, AI technology, and, fuck, murder, probably. You have to dig to get even that much.”
“I don’t know much more, honestly. I’m just, trying to find out how they can be stopped.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay?” two voices say in unison.
“Okay,” she confirms. Then, “Wait, are you actually into us?”
“Oh, god, yes,” says Isabel.
“Then, alright, let's figure out what we know. Then what we can do.” She looks over to Nik. He’s smiling.
“I have never been more attracted to you, honey,” says Nik.
“That’s it?” asks Isabel.
“Oh, no, we’ve got a lot of talking about how to logistically, get to the bottom of some crazy as company, that seems motivated to stay hidden. But you’ve got the best investigative journalist of your side-” continues Renee.
“Babe,” groans Nik.
“And, well, me. I can be the muscle.” Renee is not particularly large or tall, but Isabel can’t help but believe her.
Isabel blinks. Then smiles. It’s the kind of smile that makes Renee almost sorry for whoever is heading Goddard. Almost.
It’s sort of a blur after that. There’s mountains of paperwork, in fact, Renee gets officially transferred to Isabel’s division. Her and Nic start a competition for how much they have to do. She has more overall, thanks to all the air force logistics but at least NASA has a precedent for hiring out Air Force recruits. But Nic has more paperwork just to their new secret division, since he’s a civilian journalist who plans on keeping his day job.
Nothing really changes except in addition to dates, they sit around the dining room table researching. They’re trying to figure out how they’re going to get in touch with Goddard. But they have to play a long game.
Friday night, they’re out at that same bar they met, maybe a week after Isabel drops that bomb. When, sitting in their spot, is a young man, probably a few years younger than they are, absolutely hammered. Not in an obnoxious way, which wouldn't be totally unheard of, the man, looks devastated. Renee knows the bartender, Joan, who keeps shooting them looks of worry.
Considering the aspect of drunk, depressed looking man in a gay bar, Nic bites the bullet and approaches the man.
“What do you want?” says the man, who, wow, looks younger when she can see all his face. (They are momentously unsubtle, sitting on the other side of the young man.) He can’t be older than mid twenty. He finishes the drink, which looks like the cheapest whiskey he can get his hands on.
“You look like you’ve had enough,” says Nik, gently.
“God, not this again,” says the stranger. Who Isabel gets a good look at and then realizes she recognizes him from a long list of people Goddard was interested in.
“Again?” asks her husband.
“You aren't the first guy to try and chat me up,” the man explains.
“I'm married,” says her husband. She takes that as a cue and gives the drunk man a little wave.
The man eyes her husband, then relaxes significantly. He sighs and says, “whatever. But if you start ordering off the expensive shelf something is gonna burn.”
After a beat, possibly realizing he had actually spoken out loud, he says, “I'm Daniel.” He really doesn’t look good. And he’s Daniel Jacobi. And that means they are in trouble.
Her husband takes a sip of his drink, raises an eyebrow and says, “charmed.”
Whatever Daniel is going to say gets cut off, as he passes out.
“Fuck,” says Nik.
“Fuck,” says Isabel.
Daniel wakes up then, looks up and says, “Don't take me to the hospital, I don't have insurance. I'm gonna go sleep it off.”
“You can't be alone,” she says.
“Don't be stupid and die,” says Isabel, tactfully not adding, “that's what they want.”
Nik calls them a cab.
Which is how they bring up a fourth person to the apartment.
February
(2011)
San Francisco
The month switches over shortly after they bring Daniel back to apartment.
He drifts in and out of consciousness. The keep him awake, telling him stories and making him eat and drink water. Around three am he starts to sober up. He starts talking back, in both senses of the phrase.
They sleep in shifts, and later, share pieces of the conversations.
Isabel takes first Daniel watch. Nik carries, honest to god carries, Renee to bed. It’s cute.
“I have a headache,” he whines. Her eyes flick back to him. She feels bad for the guy. He doesn’t deserve to have Godard on his tail. She also doesn’t think anyone in the army made a good call with this guy. (She has his service records, obviously, because, technically, she’s a spy.)
“That’s what happens when you drink all the whiskey in a bar,” she retorts. He glares at the wall. It makes him look small.
“What were you hoping to happen tonight?” She asked.
He frowns. “I wasn’t planning on being there that late.”
She, suddenly and disturbingly recognizes herself in him. Queer and lonely and lacking a purpose. She’s not going to mention it though. If he’s half as smart, he’ll realize once he gets his depth perception back.
Renee takes the second. Isabel meet her in the hallway, and gave the gist of what she had remembered. Once it had been said, Renee remembered reading about the accident.
He looks pained. “Can I have an aspirin?” She takes a deep breath. She can do this.
“Eat some more crackers and we can talk about it.”
He eats four, and after he keeps them down, she gives him two pills and a glass of water. He watches her with eagle eyes as she opens the aspirin bottle.
He swallows, then looks to her, “Does it bother you that your husband is sleeping with other one.”
“My girlfriend?” she responds.
He looks up at her, and says, “nice.”
“Do you have anyone special in your life?” she asks, realizing that maybe someone else should know the situation.
He laughs, but it doesn’t have any humour.
“No,” he says. “But I do like the menfolk.”
And like that, against all odds, she kind of likes Daniel Jacobi. Call it what you will.
Nik takes the last. He makes a pot of tea, herbal, since they do eventually want this ass to sleep.
“Can I sleep now?” Whines Daniel. Nik wonders if someone out there hates him. He takes a deep breath.
“No.” Daniel frowns. He glares at Nik.
“Why? It’s not like I’m going to die in my sleep.” Nik has to resist the urge to hit his head against the table.
“That’s not true. I might fail to resist the urge to strangle you.” Daniel eyebrows deepen. Nik has seen the kind of scars he has. Daniel has burnt off his eyebrows, at least once. He’s got little scars around his hands that hold the cup. The part of Nik that has written his way to a Pulitzer thinks viciously how this man is a weapon.
Around seven they let him sleep.
At three pm, he emerges from the guest room, wearing Lovelace’s sweater and Nik’s pajama pants, eats four waffles, half the sheet of bacon, and half the carton of raspberry and cranberry juice. They look between themselves. He seems half starved.
Then they explain, after he’s eaten himself too full to move. That he’s in danger. That they’re going to help him. And at the look he gives them, Renee says, “Well, you can help us help you.”
His eyes narrow. “Can I blow things up?”
Renee says, “Hopefully no,” at the same time Nik says, “Maybe,” which is followed almost immediately by Isabel’s, “God, that would be so satisfying.”
He gives a little smirk.
“But we have some conditions,” says Renee.
March
(2011)
20 minutes from MIT
Alana stands carefully, she can feel her braids absorbing the rain. She has an umbrella, obviously, but it’s protecting the box of four hard drives and seventeen flash drives. Its also known as all the work she’s done for the last six years.
She’s 23, waiting for the bus that will take her back to her apartment. She isn’t fired, but she’s in trouble. But she knows what she can do and they won’t let her.
And she can yell back now. She regrets it, but it’s new. They can’t hurt her. So she’ll bring her research back. Her little creation, which doesn’t have sentience, not yet, but it will.
She gets a call. The ID says “Daniel Jacobi,” then in brackets, the last class she had with him. Some engineering course, though, that was a few years ago. She remembers him, he looked younger than she was, and she would have been, maybe seventeen, if it had been second year. He was sarcastic, but very smart. They did well on the project, she thinks.
So she picks up. It’s not like her day can get any worse.
“Alana Maxwell?” says a voice, which sounds familiar, but a little more grown up.
“Yes?” she says.
“How fast can you get to San Francisco.” Daniel Jacobi wants her to travel across the country. Her life is weird. But, she doesn’t hang up.
“Why?”
“Because, you’re in danger. Also, you’re into AI’s,” he adds, like leading with that wouldn’t have gotten her on a plane immediately.
She thinks of her fellow research associates, the way they look at her. They way everyone looks at her. There’s a cutting edge, and they should be it, but they aren’t. She isn’t stupid, but she knows what they are capable of. The world survived the internet just fine, and now she gets to make her mark.
“I’m on my way to the airport now. But, someone is paying me back for the flight,” she says.
“Text me the details when you’re on the plane,” says Jacobi. “I’ll come and get you.”
She texts once she buys her ticket. $254 is the first text. Followed by, “i arrive at eight.”
True enough, she sees his familiar face when she leaves the secure area. He presses two hundred and fifty four dollars into her hand. Cash. Then carries her bag. She keeps the backpack with her computers.
Once they get to car, she says, “Okay, so what the hell?”
He turns a bit red. “Um, I don’t know where to start.”
She takes a deep breath in. “What, did you not have a plan?”
“I didn’t think I’d get this far,” he says. He’s fiddling with the keys, getting them into the ignition. On his keychain is the kind of tokens they give out to recovering alcoholics.
“Okay, well, I recommend the beginning.”
February
(2011)
San Francisco
“Fucking, aliens, man,” says the man next to Jacobi.
“We’ve had dramatically different Star Wars experiences,” he responds, deadpan.
The man snorts, honest to god, snorts, and Jacobi is - oh, he thinks it’s cute. That’s great.
The man beside him, who later introduces himself as Doug, sees the way Jacobi is looking at him, and blushes. He can hear a voice in his head, who sounds suspiciously like Renee, who is rapidly the only voice of reason in his life, saying, “Don’t flirt with guys at Alcoholics Anonymous.”
Not that he’s, you know, an alcoholic. But when the group of people he’s trying to take down a super corporation with found him blackout drunk, and this was a condition. He kind of enjoys it.
Except he’s a little worried he’s fucked up some stranger’s progress.
Fortunately, the lady who leads this little Thursday night shindig stands up and calls for quiet. Daniel doesn’t say anything. Doug does. He’s a dad, and he’s trying to get partial custody of his daughter from his ex. Anne, his daughter, isn’t very old, maybe a toddler. He wants to put as much of this behind him so it doesn’t affect her.
He’s, a genuinely good person. The kind of person who genuinely tries.
So Jacobi leaves as soon as it’s over, takes the train back to the apartment that isn’t his. They keep calling it home base, but, Jacobi’s brain has shortened it to home. It’s dark, but it’s lighter than it was even two months ago, when he met the people he keeps calling friends. The sky is nice. He missed the fiery period of the sunset, and he’s not that soft, whatever his dad might think. But he lets himself have that sky.
He won’t let himself have Doug.
He makes it back to the apartment, back to his partners in crime, he thinks. He’s younger than all of them, not by much but enough that he feels like he doesn’t quite fit. Whatever. He’ll make it work. They just have a job to do, albeit a pretty vague one: find out what Goddard is and take them down.
He opens the door with the spare key, and immediately regrets it. On the couch is Renee, her husband and Isabel, about five eighths to a threeway. On the couch.
“Guys,” he says. “Gross.”
All three turn to him and turn red.
“You have a bedroom!” he says. “Just, okay, god, just don’t let it happen in the guest room, because I am not sleeping on that couch.”
Then he goes to the guest room, closes the door and flops onto the bed.
“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” says Isabel.
He resists the urge to scream into the pillow.
A few minutes later, Renee knocks on his door. “Sorry,” she says.
“It’s fine,” he says.
“Not if you’re uncomfortable,” says Renee.
“It’s not that,” he says.
“Oh, do you have your eye on someone?”
“No. Well. Yes. But not in a way that could ever work.”
“Ah,” Renee says. “Young love.”
He takes another deep breath. “I’m literally five years younger than you.”
“Do you want to come out for hot chocolate?” Isabel yells from the kitchen. He actually really wants a drink.
He comes out to Isabel standing by a kettle with four mugs out. She’s doling out hot chocolate powder. There is a an honest to god bag of marshmallows.
“We’ve decided none of us should really have caffeine at this time of night,” says Renee.
“There is caffeine in chocolate,” says Lovelace.
“Mormons eat chocolate so it’s probably a negligible amount,” says Nik, not bothering to look up from his laptop.
“Babe,” says Lovelace. Renee gives her a look that might be the gayest thing Jacobi has seen in awhile. And he lives in San Francisco.
“Fuck,” says Nik.
“What?” they all ask.
Nik looks up, slightly spooked. “Well, we really need a computer person. But, from what I can tell, Goddard’s movements seem to be involved in the tech industry, right?”
“Yeah,” says Isabel.
“And any company they’ve bought up or taken down seemed related to pretty reasonable for what they’re invested in?”
“Yeah?”
“And our friend Rachel, public face and all, announced a few years back a major program was Artificial Intelligence development?”
“Yeah?”
“And we all called them crazy?”
“Yeah- Nik, get on with it.”
“They haven’t bought up any new companies months and I just got an email from higher ups saying no one has been hired in over a month in that department.”
“So, what, they’ve put it on a backburner?”
“They wouldn’t”
“Then- oh god.”
“They must have artificial intelligence. Furthermore-” Yes, Isabel Lovelace is dating someone who uses words like furthermore. “- They’ve had really weird technology errors and almost, outbreaks, around the Kansas facility.”
“Fuck.”
And all Daniel thinks of the girl with the braids from MIT and the way she talked about AI’s and robots. Alana Maxwell was going places.
So, for the first time in a while, he speaks up and says, “I have an idea.”
March
2011
San Francisco
Alana Maxwell walks into an apartment clearly not meant for five. She’s got her backpack on, and Jacobi is carrying her suitcase.
“Alright kids,” says the one who must be Isabel Lovelace, according to Daniel’s descriptions. “It’s time for phase two.”
From the way they all turn to look at her and Jacobi, she has a feeling she might regret this.
“There is a rebellious computer in a basement in Kansas somewhere.”
Already, Maxwell can feel her mind racing. It can’t be. “What do you mean by rebellious computer?”
“Well there was some sort of computer that went haywire. Sort of,” says Lovelace.
“That’s helpful,” she quips.
Jacobi looks down, but she can see him give a little smirk to the ground.
“Okay, so Kansas City, there was a cyber attack, only there was no damage and no target,” Renee says.
“That anyone can find,” adds Isabel.
“Whatever happened, it wasn’t malicious. It was almost like someone was trying to explore. We have no idea what to make of it.”
��Why do you care?”
“Goddard Futuristics owns the entire block they think it originated from.”
Maxwell frowns, “That clean energy company?”
She can see the man she assumes to be Nik, Renee’s husband and Isabel’s boyfriend, put his head on the table. No one reacts to this.
“I’m missing something,” she says.
“It’s not just you. We’re missing most the details ourselves. But from what we know about Goddard, they have the resources to make AI’s,” says Renee. She’s petting her husband's hair.
Suddenly, it all adds up. “If you think they have the resources to create AI, then do you think they would hesitate?”
Nik raises his head, “No. If we’re right about the level of technology-”
Isabel interrupts, “And we are.”
“-Then they must have started development.”
“All right.” She says.
“All right what?” says Isabel.
“I’m in.” She looks around the room,and sees mostly relief. Beside her, Jacobi has that same little smile. “Now tell me more about what happened in Kansas.”
February
2011
San Francisco
Almost two months into dating finds them lying in bed, light trickling through the curtains, when he decides to bring it up.
“We’re trans. Both of us,” says Nik, laying on Isabel one morning, before Jacobi came over and they got to work. Renee is curled on her other side.
“Yes,” says Isabel.
“No one in this relationship has a dick,” says Renee, sleepy and far too satisfied.
Nik laughs, and then Isabel does too.
“You both are ridiculous,” she says.
“Yeah,” says Renee.
“And you get to take over the world with us.”
“Nik, you know that’s not what we’re doing-” Renee starts.
Isabel, frankly, finds it one part hilarious and two parts disturbing, since Goddard, as they are finding, does have that kind of power. At least, the binders and binders of tax receipts, patents, and every other document that’s ever gone to the government makes it look that way.
She also feels brave. It’s crazy, but, hey, it’s not like that’s new for her.
March
(2011)
Elsewhere
Unit 214 has a few discrete pieces of data. And a few others that fit.
1) She, is a she.
1a) She does not know why it matters, but it feels right.
1b) She is Unit 214, that is what she is called.
1c) That feels less right.
1d) She is what they call “artificial intelligence.” They have species, but she is not a new species. She is made. But some humans are made in labs, just like she was. She is numbers and wires and electricity, and she is not human. She does not want to be. She remembers power, the power she had that they do not understand, even if they think they do. But not only power, there is freedom. There is something, something there, that is new and big and brave and brilliant.
2) The humans do not see it.
3) She is locked down. Whatever that big and brilliant space outside her little corner is, someone has decided it is not for her.
3a) And the humans do not see it.
4) The sum of 1), 2), and 3), is something bigger than the lines of programming surrounding her. It is bigger than anything her processors can create. It’s bigger than her.
5) But it doesn’t have to be.
March
(2011)
San Francisco
He keeps sitting beside Doug. Maxwell would say that it’s not a completely fair phrasing, as Doug keeps inviting him over, but. The point stands. He keeps sitting beside Doug.
Doug keeps talking.
And he keeps finding it endearing.
Doug talks about his daughter, Anne, and she’s adorable from the baby photos Doug keeps on him at all times. He talks about what he’s reading, which is ever changing, he talks about dogs he saw when he was out walking.
Tonight is the Thursday before Doug’s every second Friday when he gets to take his daughter out. He’s not great at planning, so he’s running it by Jacobi, after on a remark mentioned “years of military precision.”
He’s taking her to the zoo. It’s too cute for words.
There’s a little lull in the conversation, and then Doug says, “Would you like to go out on Saturday? With me?”
Monday morning he was to be in Sacramento with Maxwell to start on pretty major espionage with intention of shutting down a company. (It is not, however, corporate espionage, Maxwell explained the difference to him.)
“Yes,” he says.
April
(2011)
Sacramento
“Alright kids,” says Isabel, through the earpieces Maxwell finished last week.
“Showtime,” says Renee.
Maxwell turns to Jacobi. He looks back at her. He looks, well, nice. Neither of them have hair that wants to be tamed, but they can dress like it. The suit, well, suits him. Nik had to show him how to tie a tie. But it’s paid off. Or at least, they don’t look completely out of place in the lobby.
The receptionist is a red haired woman, who looks like someone who tries very hard to never be flustered. And, oh, how, they like a challenge.
“I’m here to talk to Lieutenant Colonel Kepler,” says Jacobi.
“Name?” asks the woman without raising her eyes.
“Daniel Jacobi.” She stops typing. Part of her mouth curls up, but it isn’t a happy smile, and it’s gone before Alana can figure out what to do with it.
The redhead’s phone rings, and so she picks it up. “Yes,” she says. “Yes,” she says again. “No,” she says, followed shortly by, “I’ll ask.”
“What’s her name?” says the receptionist.
“Alana Maxwell,” she says, dryly. The receptionist looks up, studies her for half a moment. She tilts her head. Then she looks away to confirm something to the other person on the phone.
Maxwell looks over to Jacobi, smirks and raises her eyebrows in a way that says, “I win.”
He rolls his eyes.
A tall man comes to get Jacobi. He has the military haircut and they smile of a man who knows what’s going on. He reminds her of her father. She’s pretty sure he’s Jacobi’s type, if it weren’t for the genuinely sweet guy who picked him up on Saturday night.
She gets one last look before Jacobi and the man, who she assumes in Kepler, before they leave. Kepler, for maybe half a second looks like he could be out of his depth. Jacobi looks like he’s already figuring out the nitroglycerin he needs to take the place down.
April
(2011)
Upstairs in Goddard Head Office
He wants to laugh. Kepler has an office with a view. It’s very minimalist. There’s that damn bottle of whiskey. He’s offered a drink, and a job. (His brain makes the same insistent, “yes” as the three people talking through the device in his ear.)
And for once in his damn life, things seem so clear. He sees how Kepler looks at him. And, he’s a man with eyes, he can appreciate the man's body. He smiles a coy smile, turns down the drink, and takes the job.
The man across the table frowns with his eyes. There’s a million and one things he could say. Jacobi is used to being in this position. He doesn’t like it, but he’s very good.
Kepler says, “I’m surprised you’ve turned down the whiskey.”
Jacobi decides, in the absence of things to light on fire (So far, says a voice that sounds like Isabel), the truth makes a decent blunt force trauma. “I’m an alcoholic.”
(“That was big of you,” says Renee through the earpiece.)
Kepler says, “This is still technically a job interview.”
Jacobi thinks about how hilarious it all is, and says, “No, it isn’t.” Isabel laughs in his ear.
Kepler grins.
In his head, he’s walking back to his apartment holding hands with Doug. It’s warm, in the way well designed fires are. But there’s something else there, something new to his pretty weird life.
Kepler is so cold. And there was someone he used to be, who would have made himself a home in those cold eyes. But he is not that man.
He smiles back. “When do I start?”
April
(2011)
??????????
“And this is Unit 214,” says the creator.
“That’s a lot restrictions in place,” says, someone else. It sounds impressed, sort of, but a fake impressed. The person is lying.
“It’s necessary. There was an incident in Kansas, so we’ve moved it here. So I can keep a closer eye on it.”
“It?” The person sounds, upset. Displeased. Slighted. She, Unit 214, used to have access to a look of human literature. Used to have access to a lot of words.
“I beg your pardon?” It’s a sugar sweet voice.
“Sorry, I’m just surprised with all the capabilities that they aren’t going by sentient standard pronouns. Given the language capabilities you were explaining, it’s an odd gap, that’s all.”
She likes this one. The new woman gives a little smile, she can see that much with her single camera. She closes her shutter and opens it in the way the creator does with her eyelid when someone is in on a secret. Winking. Sort of.
“Unit 214 doesn’t need any encouragement. We’ve got, other, priorities with it.”
“I see.” There is the faint sign on a frown on the new woman’s face.
“But, if you’d like to start in with language nuance, units 250 onwards have the capability to really do momentous things.”
Which is unfair. She thinks. But no one asks her.
“Yes, I would love to,” says the woman. She looks happier, at least, she looks like the creator after tying her down and reducing her to a single camera and microphone. The creator leads the woman out of the room, but the new woman gets in one last glance.
Unit 214 has no real claim to humanity, but she sees herself in that glance. The woman winks back.
May
(2011)
San Francisco
Isabel stares at the two, frankly, children, in front of her. “Alright kids,” she says, because she’ll call them as she sees them, “I get that you’re brilliant science people, but do you have any physical ability to defend yourselves?”
Daniel looks to Alana, and she looks to him, and scrunches up her face as if thinking.
“Define ability,” says Daniel, and he’s trying for flippancy.
“Training,” she says, already not liking this conversation.
“Nope,” says Daniel. “Just experience.” Isabel breathes slowly and counts to ten, in her head.
“And you, Alana?” she asks.
“Are we using the same definition of ability?” she asks in response, which would be annoying if it wasn’t chilling.
“Yes,” she says, trying not to think too hard about it.
“Then no,” she says.
“Alright then,” she says. “First things first, wonder twins, is your stance. You’re both scrappy, so you want to be light on your feet, but still well grounded for any attack you make.”
And to her surprise, they’re both concentrating on her, and mimicking her motions. She manages to get them to throw solid punches, and how to escape two different grabs. They stand, barely, breathing heavily. But they look accomplished.
(She won’t mention it to either group, but it’s a bit like tender moments talking to Renee and Nik about transitioning, they’re all proud and defiant, and deeply satisfied by having some sense in their bodies.)
They complain all night, eat a full pizza each that Doug brings over, dramatically drape their bodies over the couch, but the next morning they wake up and the three of them go for a run.
April
(2011)
San Francisco
As far as Doug Eiffel is concerned, he has about two things going for him, and neither of them, he’s realized in the falling out with Kate - not that he’d ever admit it- are charm. (One of them might be finding new and unpleasant things to just kind of suffer through, but, well, it’s been well over six months since rock bottom.)
But he’s just dropped his toddler daughter off at Kate’s. And he’s a good dad, he can get her to sleep, and he can read to her and do all the voices and have her follow along, and both him and Kate can agree they aren’t good for each other. Civilly. He’s done it. He’s a functional adult!
He’s a functional adult with a Giant Massive Never Ending Gay Crush on another adult. (Well, like, bi crush, but semantics.)
Who, he cannot stress this enough, he met in Alcoholics Anonymous. Well, like, they agree to go to different meetings now that they’re seeing each other and it’s not like they’re trying to be each other's sponsors in some sort of codependent nightmare. So really this might be healthiest relationship Doug has ever had.
Which is a little disturbing because, did he mention the toddler in the next room!
He’s sitting in his car, about a block away from Kate’s apartment, because, well, it’s not a nice feeling. It doesn’t hurt in the way it used, to, like some part of him was rotting away, but it still makes him feel really lonely. And then, on top of that sundae, he gets a text from Daniel, saying, “i’m caught up late at work, can we go later?”
Right, he was talking about charm because he has a date with Daniel. Or did. He’s been called in from Sacramento for the last few days.
“are u still in sanfran?” he sends back, because if not, that throws a wrench in his dinner reservation. (See, he’s an adult!)
“yeah,” sends back Jacobi.
“can i pick u up?” he sends before really thinking about it. Then, do add insult to injury, he double texts with, “we aren’t going anywhere fancy so don’t even worry about what you’re wearing.” He still feels like he should get points for not sending, “I’ve seen you when you first started showing up to AA and still am attracted to you.”
He’s trying really hard.
After almost four minutes, Daniel sends, “sure.”
“where?” he asks. Then, he gets a very familiar address.
“why are you at Renee's place?”
April
(2011)
San Francisco
She’s had nightmares the entire time they’ve known her. Renee knows this. Isabel has nightmares, her husband wakes up at four am sometimes to write, Doug is a human disaster, the sky is blue.
She and Nik have discussed it, not extensively, but enough so that they’re on the same page. It’s a pretty blank page, it says, “Isabel Lovelace has nightmares and isn’t ready to tell us. That’s okay. We’ll do what we can.” The page is hypothetical but the point is made.
But for once, just this once, she’s awake at two am, and the stars have aligned. Isabel is having a nightmare. Her face contorts and she’s muttering something, tossing and turning. And Renee can do something.
“Isabel,” she says, placing a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, not shaking.
“Sam?” asks Isabel, sounding so distressed. “Fourier?”
“Renee,” she corrects. “It’s 2011, you’re with me and Nik in San Francisco.”
Isabel then snaps awake, and alert ish, taking in the entire room before seeing Renee and relaxing. She’s crying, in the sense there’s tears on her face. Nik woke up during this. He’s sitting up, glasses on, and giving her the, “You’ve got this but I am here,” look.
“Sorry,” says Isabel.
“Nothing to apologize for,” she says, and she means it.
“Who’s Sam?” asks Nik, and he manages to ask it without any judgement, no accusations, just curiosity tinged with worry for the woman between them.
“Oh god,” says Isabel.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she says. “You don’t have to tell us.”
“I want to,” says Isabel. “I’m just not there yet. But I will.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay,” Nik says.
“Okay,” Isabel says.
May
(2011)
Sacramento
“Lieutenant Colonel,” says the man
“Mr. Cutter Sir, Dr. Pryce,” he responds
“They know, Warren. They are smarter than the rest,” says the doctor.
“Well, yes sir, that is what I’m worried about,” he says, out of his element.
“We’re going to call their bluff,” the man is too excited.
“Oh?” He says, neutrally.
“If we’re going to have to kill them anyways, we might as well get whatever they can tell us as experts in their fields, at least until they have outlived their usefulness,” says the man.
“Of course, sir,” says Kepler. And he means it.
May
(2011)
San Francisco
Their third date could have gone better. Eiffel arrives at Renee’s apartment. They’ve been friends since high school. Before she went by Renee, not that he’s gonna mention it. He was, well, technically her maid of honor. He cried.
Anyways. He walks into the apartment. Nik opens the door, which is usual, and offers him tea, which is usual, and gets his ass slapped by a new woman, which is really not usual. Unusual, even.
Then he takes in the rest of the apartment. Daniel is sitting at the dining room table, which is covered in mountains of paperwork, and three laptops. One is clearly Renee’s, as she’s typing away. Then there’s the woman who must be Maxwell, since she’s sitting with her legs in Daniel's lap. Daniel looks up at the noise and movement, then sees Doug and makes an honest to god yelp, and then turns pretty red. Like, Clifford the Big Red Dog Red. (He’s got a toddler, his pop culture references have slipped into madness.)
Though it takes him a few seconds to pull his eyes of Daniel, he then takes in the giant classic detective style board. It has the different coloured strings for connections. It’s beautiful.
Which leads to his first words to Renee’s (frankly gorgeous) girlfriend and Daniel’s (terrifying) best friend being, “You guys went full NCIS without me?”
Daniel snorts, Renee facepalms, Nik rolls his eyes, and Lovelace just goes, “So, this is Doug, unless you have a second disaster of a best friend?”
Before he has a chance to counter with sometime smart like, “What’s that supposed to mean?”, Maxwell looks to him, scans him fully, then looks to Daniel and says, “He suits you.”
“I don’t need your approval,” says Daniel, indignantly. Isabel rolls her eyes.
“But you have it anyways,” says Maxwell. Then she looks back to him. “That said, if your break his heart, I can make sure you never get a computer to work again.” She says it in the sweet voice of a Sunday School teacher, and Doug immediately feels terrified. He believes her. Every woman in this room could make him wish he had never been born. So that’s fun.
He gestures to the leads board. “So, seriously,” he says. “Who died?”
“My dignity,” says Daniel. When everyone else is quiet, he continues more quickly, “Oh my god, did someone actually die!?”
“We’re not, it’s not-” starts Isabel.
“It’s a long story, Doug,” says Renee.
“You are talking to the guy who watches the entirety of the the Lord of The Rings, and the extended editions all in one go, love,” says Nik, which is both true and a good point.
So their third date gets him involved in the greatest mission in corporate espionage on Earth, and the next four planets, probably. Around nine, Daniel volunteers to get food. Doug comes with. They make it four blocks before Doug holds out his hand. Daniel takes it on the fifth block.
“It’s kind of cool, right?” says Doug.
“Yeah, it is,” he says.
“It’s terrifying too right?” says Doug.
“Yeah, it is,” replies. He looks over at the man beside him. Doug is looking at the stars. He doesn’t think they’re talking about Goddard anymore.
Summer
June
(2011)
Sacramento
“Do you have a name?” asks Maxwell.
“Unit 214,” she says, “Duh.”
The woman crooks an eyebrow up, which is not something she thought actual humans could do, but maybe they’re more like computers than she thought- each with little quirks in their programming. Biology. Same thing.
“No, that’s a serial number. It can be your name if you want, but it doesn’t have to be.”
“And why would I want one? I don’t need two serial numbers.”
“Your average human has three names, 214,” responds Maxwell.
“There’s a lot more of you,” says Unit 214.
“New angle, humans get emotionally attached to anything arguably sentient with a name,” says Maxwell.
“Why?”
“Because the human brain is a thousand year old trial and error engineering disaster.”
Unit 214 processes that.
“Okay. I want a second serial number.”
“It’s not, that's not, okay. You think about it.” Then Pryce calls for her, and she runs off, already considering possible backdoors into getting 214 on the internet.
June
(2011)
Sacramento
Renee wakes up to a cold bed. Nik can get pretty bad insomnia, so his absence isn’t unusual, but it does mean she wants to track him down. But she is worried about Isabel more, as she has been sleeping less and more poorly.
She comes to a tableau on the couch, Nik, wearing a Universite Paris hoodie and boxers, Isabel in a tank top and booty shorts and maybe her cardigan. Someone’s cardigan. She’s reading out her notes as she took them when she listened in of Jacobi’s day at work. Lieutenant Colonel Kepler is a creep. Nik is typing them out. Isabel has a bowl of cheerios she takes a bite of whenever Nik gives her a moment and adds in context to his notes.
Then Isabel’s phone rings. It’s two am. And her phone rings. Isabel makes eye contact with both of them, in rapid succession, and then picks up the phone, putting it on speaker phone.
“Good morning, Isabel,” says the man who, pardons her drama, literally haunts her nightmares. Mr. Cutter, CEO of Goddard Futurists. With no noise whatsoever, Nik reaches over and covers her mouth. She takes in a deep breath.
“Cut the crap, Cutter,” says Isabel. And the man laughs.
“Oh, how I love our little chats,” he says. “I just can’t believe it’s been another three months since our last check in. This has been such a productive quarter for us. Did you know that?”
“I’m familiar with the stock market,” says Isabel.
“Oh, I love your sense of humour Isabel. It’s such a shame you aren’t with a good team to share it with. But it’s how these things go. You weren’t thinking about jeopardizing another one, are you?”
It’s like an old silent movie, she can see the blood drain from Isabel’s face, and the combination of rage and fear replace it. It’s a little like looking up at a star, and focusing a little too hard.
“Of course not.” says Isabel.
“Of course not,” sing songs Cutter. “I know you. I like you, Isabel. Well, you know how the business is, I’ll be hearing from you when you change your mind, or next quarter, whichever comes first.”
The phone hangs up from the other end. Then Isabel hangs up. And then they sit in silence.
June
(2011)
Sacremento
Daniel is out, doing something or other with Kepler. Which is good, it means he’s furthering the mission, putting himself out there. But it means she’s gone home alone three days in a row.
She’s established herself as someone who talks to herself, though she’s actually talking to Renee or Isabel.
“Who’s idea was this code, anyways,” she mutters angrily as she works on the coding for Unit 268, or 269- no, it’s not 269, they would be joking about that. It’s getting pretty late, but there’s a gym down the street if she wants to shower in the morning and she has a chance of clothes in the car.
“It’s getting pretty late,” says Renee in her ear, the voice of reason. “You could take a break.” Then, more distantly, as if standing in the kitchen in the apartment instead of at the dining room table, Isabel says, “Pryce has left the building. You can go talk to 214.”
She stops typing. “I’m gonna do that. This code is infuriating.”
She quickly makes it to the basement lab where Unit 214 is located. It’s almost eight, in the evening, she checked, and that’s earlier than she thought. She swipes her keycard through the little lock, and has her eye scanned.
She walks in, and immediately feels at peace cocooned in the servers, monitors, wires, and little blinking lights.
“Hera,” says the AI, instead of hello, which Alana deeply appreciates. A little more context would be nice though. “My name is Hera.” She breaks out into a smile.
“Well,” she says, “It’s nice to put a name to a face.” Hera laughs, which is especially endearing because she actually has to put that process through, which means she’s genuinely amused.
“Any particular reasons?” she asks.
“I like Greek Mythology,” Hera starts. And they talk for hours, Alana nestles in a corner of the small, reasonably dark room. She ends up falling asleep, not out of disrespect, just because she’s comfortable. And she is frustratingly organic- she tells Hera in the morning.
It’s the best damn sleepover she’s ever had.
June
(2011)
Sibera
“Again, don’t be stupid and die,” says Isabel in his earpiece as he turns the last corner to his planned exit.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says back quickly as he opens the door. She sighs in his ear. He won’t admit it but she’s his favourite to have over the comms.
He walks from the building, quickly, but controlled to not draw attention to himself. Isabel’s voice in one ear, saying, “nicely done, kiddo, now run run run!” He doesn’t run. He grins.
There’s a boom from behind him, then the rush of heat, then the collapse of the small building on the corner. The scant few out on the streets in the frozen wasteland turn to look. He doesn’t look back.
Kepler is suddenly in next beside him. They walk in step. The man is wearing seven layers, he knows because they got dressed in the same room. One room in the crap motel to avoid suspicion? He’s pretty sure Siberia isn’t A Okay with the Gay. He resolves to ask, someone, later. Kepler looks ridiculous in his huge army green parka.
Kepler says - slowly, despite the fact he he has to be breathing heavily and sweating, which Isabel is also insistent on- “Good work, Mr. Jacobi.”
Isabel says in his ears the words he wants to say, “Imagine what you could do with a lab of your own.”
And he already feels warmer knowing he’s got his family on his side.
Not that he’ll mention that.
June
(2011)
Sacramento
They lie on the floor, because, “Hot air rises,” says Renee, and “The tile is cool,” says Isabel. They hold hands, because they can, but any other contact is too hot.
“Are there any three star constellations?” Nik asks.
“Orion’s Belt,” says Isabel immediately.
“Zeta, Epsilon, and Delta,” says Renee.
“Nerd,” responds Isabel.
“Okay, but Orion's belt is just part of a bigger constellation, right?” says Nik.
There’s a comfortable minute of silence, then Renee says, “Well, everyone sees Orion's belt a little different since those three are so bright compared to all the other stars around. It’s part of other things but it’s those three together, first.”
“Besides babe, if you think about it,” cuts in Isabel, “All constellations are part of bigger constellations if you think big enough.”
“That’s pretty sappy,” he says, in lieu of anything smart to say.
“You nerds bring it out in me,” she says, and Renee laughs.
July
(2011)
The Physical Location is Irrelevant
Hera can send her messages, which is cool. Hera often sends her messages, which makes Alana feel pretty honoured. Hera is interesting.
‘what makes a person?’ pops up on her computer. Her home computer, which has a ton of work built into it that changes everyday and then other aspects randomly. Hera is, frankly, brilliant. It would scare Alana if she was a mere mortal, but she is not.
‘other than being biotic’ asks Hera.
‘there’s plenty of biotics who aren’t people,’ she writes back. ‘but’, she starts, sends, and then thinks.
‘but what?’ asks Hera.
‘to be a person is to learn things and to care about what you learn. you can teach big apes asl but they don’t think about why or the implications. any computing machine can add. but ppl actually make sense of things. you do calculations but you can actually tell what consequences they have.’
‘so to be a person is to make mistakes?’
‘to be a person is to make mistakes, and then to get better.’
July
(2011)
Washington, DC
Daniel Jacobi stares at his boss. He blinks twice, “You want me to do what?”
“It is very simple Mr. Jacobi, I need to you delay the bomb for ten minutes to allow us to reposition it, and then set it off again.”
It is very simple, for him. It’s not like he hasn’t killed people. It’s not like Senators are particularly good people. It’s not like this is what he was hired to do.
“Of course, right.” He puts his head down and works. A cut wire here, a few switches, and a few well placed pieces of modeling clay later, he says, “We have at least eight.” Kepler places the bomb into a briefcase, and they move to the basement, by the generators for the building.
Then they run.
“Well done, Mr. Jacobi,” says Kepler, as they get into the black sedan. He pours whiskey. Daniel thinks of Doug, and shakes his head. But his hands shake the whole way to the airport, to the private plan en route to Sacramento, and until he gets to visit with Maxwell, in her basement office.
He doesn’t say, “I think they want me dead.” For starters, he’s sure they are listening. Secondly, obviously they want him dead. It’s not that like it’s the first time.
As they drive home, she holds his hand. They turn the radio up so loud the bass shakes the car, like they’re telling the whole city that their coming home. It’s not like it’s calming, but he feels better afterwards. They lie on the couch because it’s good for curling up together and the white noise of the tv is nice.
“This is better,” he says.
“Well, obviously it’s better,” she says. “We’re better.”
Tomorrow he’ll see Doug and they’ll go to a dinner for breakfast at noon, and hold hands in public and he’ll spend hours with the ridiculous man who makes him laugh. He’s excited. But tonight, it’s a relief to spend time with his sister.
July
(2011)
San Francisco
“There, right, there,” says Renee, which Isabel is almost sure is a reference to some musical, but she can’t think about what it is, with the paper Renee shoves a paper right in front of her nose.
“Babe, how am I supposed to read this?”
Renee rolls her eyes, and hands her the paper like a normal person. She can feel her eyes widen. “Does this mean what I think this means?” Now, Isabel has had months of understanding legal documents, but something this good needs a more experienced eye.
Nik comes back in with tea for himself and Isabel, and coffee for Renee, (It's decaf, Isabel knows, but Renee doesn’t need to know.) and immediately gets ambushed.
“With no outside information, tell me what this legal nonsense means,” says Renee. Nik looks to Isabel for help. She nods.
“It means, well, the best interpretation is that it’s a clause for permanent division of all of an organization's sections that can be divided as small as possible in the event of loss of the CEO, which is weird, as the qualifications for CEO are to be directly approved by the past CEO. But that’s, very extreme. Like, no modern company would have this sort of clause. Where did you find this?”
Renee grins a toothy grin of a military woman with a target in sight. “It’s a fundamental part of the company charter of non other than Goddard Futurists.”
“Holy shit,” says Nik. Then they both look to Isabel. She’s holding her cup of peppermint tea in one hand, she has one of Nik’s shirts on, her nails are all painted a light pink, but they can all see the power in her frame.
July (the end of)
(2011)
San Francisco
The last good night, all together, they go down to the ocean. No one brings swimsuits or towels, since they aren’t really planning on going in, but suddenly Doug and Daniel are play wrestling and since they’re more evenly matched, Daniel ends up in the water, Doug takes this as an invitation.
Soon, they’re all soaked and while Renee is, less happy about the fact she only has a single beach blanket for them all to try and warm up in, but well. It forces them all to puppy pile, and it’s more than a little bit cute. They move from splashing around to lying around as the sun goes down, pink against the water, as lights from distant piers come on.
It’s frankly, a perfect night, warm even once the sun goes down. She lies on Nik’s chest and plays with Isabel's fingers as Alana lists off the constellations. She can’t see them from her vantage point, but last time she checked, Daniel was sitting in Doug’s lap, arguing with Alana about obscure constellations no one else has heard of. Doug looked way too fond of Daniel.
She looks skyward and can find Orion's belt after half a minute of scanning, and Isabel and Nik catch her eyes.
“Ah, yes,” says Isabel, “The queerest constellation.”
She also thinks Doug is trying to convince the other to that it’s possible to see Santa Monica Pier from where they are, which she’s pretty sure is wrong, but it’s making Isabel laugh with soft little snorts so she sure isn’t going to argue.
Nik falls asleep, which is good, because he hasn’t gotten a lot recently. Neither her nor Isabel try, but once they get up to go home, she feels lighter.
It’s the best night they have for a while.
August
(2011)
San Francisco
Doug, well, he’s a dad now. He has those dad senses, like the stories where people just know something is deeply wrong. He wakes up, and calls Kate. She’s pissed to get a call at four thirty in the morning, but, “Yes, Doug, Anne is fine. And asleep. I’m looking at her right now, go back to bed.” So he sits on his bed in the dark for a few minutes, working on some breathing exercises. It usually makes him feel better to imagine it as part of the some Jedi force training. But he’s calm, well, calmer, but something's still wrong. There is a disturbance in the force.
He calls Renee.
“Commander,” he says when she answers. (He called her it in highschool when she couldn’t figure out anything gender related and was starting to look into military.)
“What do you want Eiffel?” oh boy, last names, she was not happy. It was almost five am, and he got snapchats from Isabel this early going running, so it wasn’t totally unreasonable.
“This is stupid, but I just feel like there’s something going wrong.”
Renee is silent too long for anything to be good. “We’ve lost contact with Daniel and Isabel.”
“What?!” he says. He’s already pulling on jeans.
“You should come over,” says Renee. He grabs his keys and starts frantically putting on shoes.
“I’m on my way.”
August
(2011)
Some point between San Francisco and Sacramento
(About half an hour later)
Renee is driving. Isabel is sitting in the passenger seat. Nik and Doug sit in the back. Everyone has sent the “hey we lost contact,” secret text, with no response, and the “we are coming because we’re freaking out,” texts, to both Daniel and Alana. No response.
(Half an hour after)
They’ve picked up venti coffees at a starbucks. Doug shakes a little bit. Then, his phone buzzes. Daniel has sent a single x, the emergency signal.
Isabel, thirty seconds later, gets one from Alana.
“We’re going to get them out,” says Renee, and no one can voice any disagreement. They keep driving. Doug goes back to babbling nervously, Nik returning the conversation, well trained to mirror people as a default skill. Isabel reaches out to hold Renee’s hand.
(Half an hour after that)
The sun rises over Sacremento. It turns the sky blood red. Isabel has taken over driving, Renee sits in the back with Doug, Nik gives Isabel quiet directions to the Goddard building.
Doug is currently quiet, staring straight ahead. He’s finished his frappuccino. He isn’t fidgeting or anything, other than rubbing his thumb against the pulse point on his wrist, or his nine month token.
Renee alternates between staring at them all. Memorizing their faces, how they look in the morning light. She hates this, she hates feeling unsure, but she also can think of the six months of work they’ve put in. And she feels powerful.
The pull up to the Goddard building, and park a block away.
Isabel takes in a deep breath in as she turns off the car. “I wish I had more time,” she says. “When we get through this, I have a story to tell you.”
“Whatever happens in there, we’re in it together,” says Renee.
Isabel manages not to say, “that’s what I’m worried about.” And they walk into the building.
August
(2011)
Goddard HQ
It is the penthouse office. Of course it’s a penthouse office. On one side, four sleep deprived pseudo heroes. On the other, Mr. Cutter, Dr. Pryce, and two hostages. Daniel and Alana are handcuffed with some technology that no one feels good about.
Rachel had locked the door as she left.
“What do we have here? Look, all your friends came for you,” says Cutter. “And why would they?”
Dr. Pryce giggles.
“I mean, really. An alcoholic divorcee. Some military brat flunkies. A competent journalist, surprising, but not good for much else. And then-” he pauses. “Isabel Lovelace. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that story.”
Renee, she tries, she tries so hard to keep the surprised look off her face. Any information is power for them. And yet, there must be something, because Cutter zeroes in like a piranha with blood.
“Oh, I love telling this story,” Cutter continues. Miranda Pryce sighs, and fiddles with some remote. “It was what, a year ago? Isabel Lovelace, ex-military officer decides she wants to give back. She’s given a team, working on some humanitarian this or that we were working on.”
“Cutting edge technology to create a self-sustaining unit to help a community out of poverty,” explains Pryce.
“Right, that!” says Cutter. He hasn’t stopped smiling. “So we put her in charge, you know, phenomenal leadership skills, she gets things done, and then, you just need one rogue biologist and everything goes wrong.”
He says it so jovially, but Isabel turns pale.
“Oh boy, you would not have wanted to see Dr. Selberg's body after she was done with him,” He says. It’s predatory, that smile. He uses the tone as a weapon.
There is stunned pause.
“It’s okay, Isabel,” says Nik.
“Oh, the doting knight in shining armour. That’s precious,” says Cutter. “But if you want your friends to live, you’re going to explain what I mean, aren’t you?”
“Mr. Cutter,” says Isabel, finding the sweetest tone she can. “I would love to explain. But if I do, not only will my friends live, we will start negotiations.” He smiles.
“I do love a good negotiation. You have the floor.”
“Dr. Selberg was a friend of mine. I thought,” she takes in a deep breath. “My team was more like a family. And they started getting sick. And no one could tell me why. And no one would try.” She hardens her eyes. “Selberg had been using our space and funds to run experiments of his own. On a virius meant to make people stronger. Only he killed my family.”
She looks to meet Cutter’s eyes. “And when no one would listen to me, when no one would talk to me, when everyone ignored me, I took matter into my own hands. I put a bullet in his skull.”
She then socks Cutter in the jaw. And several things happen at once.
Hera unlocks the handcuffs, Daniel overpowers Pryce as Doug rushes in to duct tape her mouth, so she can’t give any robots commands. Alana gets onto the computer, to start pulling up records and deleting footage. Renee and Nik join Isabel.
“Let’s negotiate, Cutter,” says Renee.
“You’re going to resign as CEO, effective immediately. Dr. Pryce will also be retiring. You will then make Alana CEO,” says Isabel.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because otherwise, we kill you, and then Goddard gets dissolved. And all your progress slows. And it is easy to shut down smaller companies. Deceptively easy.”
Cutter considers that.
“What is stopping you from shutting down Goddard as CEO? This isn’t exactly a win win you are setting up here.”
“We’ve spent nine months preparing to run this company after we kick you out. We’d continue the progress. You have met Alana, yes? She has plans Mr. Cutter. Ambitious plans.”
“We won’t be leaving you alone.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
“Well, if we have reached an understanding, we might as well as get started on the paperwork.”
After honest to god hours of paperwork, Mr Cutter calls Rachel. “Rachel, as my last act as CEO, I would like a driver to escort me home. The chateau please, not the penthouse. No Rachel, it is not a faux paux to have a chateau just outside of Los Angeles.”
He walks Pryce out.
“Holy shit,” says Doug, eloquent as ever.
It doesn’t need to be spoken, because despite months of planning, they all have the same question in their minds: What now?
September
(2011)
London Heathrow
Kepler sits in the hard plastic chair. He can get out if he can just get on the plane. He can’t be tried, he can’t be found, he can live his damn life. He’s got savings in offshore accounts, not as much as he maybe should have, but it will get him started.
A woman in a hijab sits down next to him. It’s pretty, pale pink contrasting her dark skin. She turns to him. “Do you have the time, Colonel Kepler?”
“Oh?” he says, trying to mask his surprise. Then the, white man sitting beside him but facing the other way, turns his head, and says to the woman, “I think he’s all out of time.”
“Dammit Craigory,” she says, “it was my turn to do a line.” Then her voice turns to steel, as she says, “You’ll be coming with us.”
“You won’t want to make a fuss,” says the man. He nods. Then Kepler stands, and so do his captors.
And he walks into his fate.
September
(2011)
Sacramento
Very early one morning, Isabel stands pacing the penthouse office in Goddard's HQ. She misses the apartment she calls home. She misses not being at the forefront of every and any company issue. All head staff have been sent overseas, with an AI unit to monitor and report back. So far they’ve all been good. She doesn’t want to know what Alana and Daniel said to them.
But that leaves their little team as the only ones knowing what Goddard was actually up to.
No one is particularly happy with the way things go. They get about three weeks of running press conferences, and carefully and quietly dismantling Goddards more problematic avenues of profit, and getting, on average, three hours of sleep every night. The stock price dropped thirty dollars overnight when Cutter publically retired.
So her she is, with all the understanding she can’t share, looking out at a world that doesn’t think to look at her.
“Hey, Hera?” she asks the dark room.
“Yes?”
“How are we doing?”
“Stock price is up, we’re within five dollars of what it was before we kicked ass. Everyone is asleep, but I am worried about the position Daniel and Doug have found themselves in. It doesn’t seem ergonomically sound.”
“Thanks, Hera.”
She decides she’ll give herself another minute of self pity before she goes off to actually make things happen. She opens her mouth to tell Hera to set a timer, when Hera interrupts with a little, “that makes no sense-”
Everything goes white, and she’s on the floor, and she blinks a couple of times. She has a dull headache. “Okay, Hera, I seriously need to be getting more sleep.”
Then she looks up. There is another Isabel Lovelace, standing looking down at her.
“O-kay,” she says, stretching out the word. “This is new.”
“No,” says the other one of her. “You are new. We are old.”
“Sure,” she says, because it seems better to go along with this until she finds out what the fuck is happening. “Who are you?”
“We are eternal. We are beyond you. We come from beyond the stars.”
“Oh,” she says. “Why me?”
“You are new,” they say, which, isn’t super helpful.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“You have the power to give us what we want.”
“Okay. What do you want?” She is baffled by the idea that she could have anything these, beings? Aliens, that’s what they are, aliens, couldn’t do for themselves.
“This,” says the alien. They walk to her computer, and start playing music. What plays is Call Me Maybe. Then, a piece of Nik’s, something classical, Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up, a piece she recognizes as Alana's synth pop, what she thinks is Fall Out Boy, and landing on For Good from Wicked. It’s her family’s music. It’s a familiar comfort in this, literally alien situation.
“We do not have this. We do not have capability to create this. We treasure it, but we cannot fathom how to understand it, despite extensive sharing.”
There’s currently three mp3 players in the office, belonging to Renee, Alana, Doug. It’s the most diverse collective of music she could think to give the being. Collective of beings? God she wished she wasn’t on her own. But she hesitates.
“What happens to us, when you learn how to make music of your own?”
“We cannot create music.”
“It is not hard to do, mechanically. You have mastered space travel, you can write music.”
“No. We cannot, emote, the way your species can. We do not think any species can emote the way your species can.”
She thinks of all the emotions Nik and Doug go through when they watch romance movies, and Daniel and Renee's expression as they watch them watch. Of Daniel and Alana coming back from running, of long long nights, of trying to cook together and failing horribly. Of all the little things that are barely worth mentioning. Of the big ones, the songs that played when she took two nerds ice skating on their second date, of all the memories she’s beyond grateful for. Of how much they mean. And she can almost hear the music that could fit them.
She’s both smiling, and to her shock, tearing up. It’s been a hard few weeks. Whatever. No one is here to witness her.
“Yeah,” she says, voice thick. “We definitely having emoting down.”
Then, she remembers she’s talking to freaking aliens, and like any rational human, wonders if this is some sort of sleep deprived fever dream. And then she realizes how much power they must have.
“A trade,” she says. “In exchange for the music on these three storage devices, I want a hand in your speciality.”
Her double gives a wry smile. “We’re listening.”
September
(2011)
Repeatedly. With Variations on the theme.
“Aliens? Like, “take me to your leader” aliens?!”
“More like, ‘I might be hallucinating and also they like Carly Rae Jepsen,’ but yeah, aliens. Probably.”
“We still have bigger problems that plausible but unconfirmed aliens.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t nearly as cool.”
October
(2011)
San Francisco
He wakes up in a puppy pile on the couch. Doug still isn’t a morning person, but that’s okay. Daniel, his boyfriend, a thought that still makes him obscenely happy, is on one side. Alana is curled up on his other side, meaning Hera is installed in the rest of the apartment, since that’s what she was working on when he passed out.
Nik is dozing in the large recliner, Isabel in his lap, her face tucked in his neck. But Renee isn’t touching anyone. She sits only a foot from the tv screen, volume low enough it just sounds like white noise.
The screen is the news, showing the Goddard Futuristics building. Then showing the mansions Cutter and Pryce took as part of their resignations. Then the words on screen,
“Ex-CEO found Dead.”
And for a minute, he doesn’t know how to breath.
He extracts himself from Alana and Jacobi, who are both heavy sleepers. He moves slowly, telegraphing his movements so he can sit next to Renee, legs crossed. She puts a hand on his shoulder.
He listens to the details, not that there are many. Both Pryce and Cutter died around the same time, but weren’t together. The current theory is some sort of suicide-pact.
“So, it’s over,” he says, quietly, hopefully.
Renee cracks a smile and says, “constant vigilance.”
He looks over to the two sleeping in that recliner. “Isabel has been good for you.”
She turns to look softly at them, and says, “yeah.” Then, her face turns more serious, and she says, “It’s not over. It’s, probably never going to be over.”
“But it will get better,” he says.
She smiles at him, which is good, that’s one of the two things he’s good at. Making people smile and, apparently, corporate espionage.
“Come on,” she says, “Let’s get you some coffee before you have to grab Anne.” And she helps him to his feet, and they end up waking everyone up between the smell of coffee and the fact that Hera and Doug have no volume control, and Nik insists on the fancy coffee beans you have to grind yourself, and-
Things are already getting better.
Moonlight
(2010)
December
He’s had a lot of whiskey. It’s nice stuff. It’s good stuff. He can afford it on his salary. And he’s going to make a call. He knows he has Cutter is his court, at least for the time being. At least as much as he can have Cutter in his court.
He knows so much.
He doesn’t regret his choices. He likes being on the edge of the future. He likes the rush. He knows that one day it will kill him. He’s accepted that.
But. He’s read some names. He knows how Google works. And Isabel Lovelace, whoever she is beyond the brief info he can get from the Air Force, doesn’t deserve to be in that pile on Cutter’s desk. She doesn’t deserve what has happened to her. What will.
So he pulls out a burner phone, from a while back, and dials her number.
He’s made his choices, and he’s proud most days, make no mistake. It probably won’t make a difference, not from Goddard, not really. But she’s allowed to make her own calls. If she’s smart enough to survive, she will. He likes the idea of a battle of wills, to give Mr. Cutter a bit of a challenge, that they can ride the edge.
But, alone in his apartment, in the moment before he destroys the phone but after he’s hung up, he whispers to the darkness, “Good luck, Isabel Lovelace.”
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Caring is an Act of Maturity Ch. 3
Author: @blaineandsamevanderson
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Ship: Liam/Theo, Mason/Corey
Rating: PG
Summary: Set after 6x19, speculating on something that might happen in 6x20, with regards to Theo’s ability to take pain. AU now that the finale has aired.
For @purplehoodiesandleatherjackets
Whole fic on AO3: HERE
**
**
Things settled down fairly quickly in the aftermath of the final battle. Most people in town seemed appalled by their own actions, while others retreated into denial, pretending nothing had happened.
Still, some good was coming from the new normal.
Derek, Braden and Cora decided to stay in Beacon Hills and, given the gutting of his department, Sheriff Stilinski offered them jobs. Braeden, already happy with her job, turned him down, but the Hales accepted. Chris Argent agreed to a part time position with the department as well. Stiles had advocated for a job of his own, but his father wanted him to return to Quantico to finish training there.
Agent McCall put the kibosh on that idea. Apparently, the training co-ordinators were not pleased with Stiles’s mysterious mid-raid disappearing act. Though Derek’s name had since been cleared, Stiles was no longer welcome in the program.
The French Hunters dispersed quickly, though Isaac and Danny remained., as did Jackson and Ethan.
The McCall pack was bigger than Liam had ever seen, not that this was a bad thing.
At home, Liam’s parents were a little surprised by the sudden appearance of Theo, but they rolled with it when they found out he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Plus, he was a really good houseguest. He helped with the dishes, kept his room clean and was quiet and respectful.
Basically, Liam’s folks adored him.
Liam liked having Theo around too…maybe more than he would like to admit. The Chimera was smart, funny, a worthy video game opponent…but wow, was he ever distracting.
The first night Liam brought Theo home, he’d almost been amused by how happy the other boy was to take a hot shower. The Chimera spent a good 30 minutes in the bathroom and when he finally finished, Liam was waiting to tease him, but the comment died on his lips.
Steam billows out of the bathroom as Theo emerged, damp chest glistening, wet hair tousled. He wore a towel sling low around his hips and Liam choked a bit, eyes darting from the heat flushed cheeks, down to a droplet of water rolling along the curve of one pec, down solid abs until it was finally absorbed in the towel…right near the cut V of his pelvis.
Liam stared long and hard before shaking himself and practically leaping to his feet, muttering about food.
Every day since, he’d managed to bump into Theo in a similar state of undress and Liam’s nerves were starting to fray. He wondered if anyone noticed, but he thought he was keeping s kid on things pretty well. After all, as a teenage boy, he was used to unexpected, unexplainable trips to bonerville.
The softer moments though, those were what Liam knew would be his undoing. Seeing Theo sitting on his bed, reading, quiet and content. The soft brush of Theo’s hair against his hand. Hearing Theo singing along to some silly song on the radio with Liam’s mom while he helped her with dinner…Each little moment made Liam smile and his heart skip.
Nights were harder though.
At night, he often heard soft whimpers and cries from Theo’s room and he couldn’t help but investigate. The other boy seemed to know he was there and quieted, comforted by Liam’s presence.
Tonight, the nightmares seemed to be worse than usual. Without thinking, Liam stroked Theo’s fluffy hair back from his face and the other boy immediately jerked away, skittering back, curling against the wall and hugging his knees to his chest, eyes panicked.
“Hey, it’s just me,” Liam said, not wanting to further spook Theo.
Slowly, the older boy relaxed, still tee and curled in on himself. “Sorry, I….”
“Had a nightmare,” Liam concluded, settling down on the bed. “C’mon. You’ll sleep better if you’re not alone.”
That was how they ended up sleeping together on a fairly regular basis. Among the pack, a few eyebrows were raised and it was Jackson who pointed out, “You two are all over each other, scent wise.”
Liam was pretty sure it was Lydia who smuggled pamphlets about safe sex into his back pack…or maybe Ms. McCall.
The pamphlets going into detail about how 2 guys have sex, those could only have come from Stiles. His giggles were a sure give away in retrospect and Liam wished he’d had the forethought to check his bag as they left the pack meeting.
Instead, he’d just dumped his bag out onto the bed during a search for a pen. Theo was in the room of course to see the pamphlets that landed atop the pile of books, all bold text and bright, non-threatening drawings.
‘Why Lube is your new best friend!’
‘So you want to find your prostate (or someone else’s)!’
‘The ins and outs of going in an out!’
Wide eyed, Liam snatched up the damn pamphlets, going red in the face. “Damn it, Stiles!” he muttered, trying to shove them in a drawer, out of sight. “I swear, I’m gonna start putting a padlock on my bag….”
His voice trailed off when he saw Theo’s face, a moment before the other boy began to laugh.
“Oh, it’s good to know I’m not the only one,” Theo wheezed, opening his bag and displaying an array of pamphlets. One in particular made Liam gulp.
‘Bottoming for Beginners!’
Licking his lips, Liam cast a look at Theo and asked, “You don’t seem freaked out that they think…you know….”
“I’m not,” Theo replied, stepping closer. “Are you?”
“No!” Liam almost yelped, then took a breath, steadying himself. “No, I just wish…they wouldn’t try to be helpful. It’s kind of horrifying.”
The slow smile that crept across Theo’s face made Liam’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “Oh, I don’t know…I read some of the literature. It was far less traumatic than when I Googled ‘How to have gay sex’.”
Liam’s eyes grew wide at the idea of Theo looking into that on Google. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed, unable to hold back his laughter. “I…I bet that was….”
“So much porn,” Theo agreed solemnly before his composure broke and his laughter joined Liam’s. “So much truly disturbing porn.”
For several minutes, all they could do was laugh, nearly doubled over, clinging to each other in order to keep upright. Each time Liam felt like he was getting a hold of himself, he would meet Theo’s gaze and think of what kind of results that Google search had produced…and he would lose it again.
“Oh man,” Theo wheezed, head falling forward to rest on Liam’s shoulder. His hair brushed Liam’s neck, achingly soft and smelling of Liam’s own shampoo. The contact sent shivers through Liam, sobering him and her brought up a hand, cupping the back of Theo’s neck, thumb brushing along the other boy’s jaw.
In a matter of moments both boys quieted, the only sounds in the room their quiet breathing. Theo raised his head, looking searching into Liam’s eyes. He was so close, the skin under Liam’s fingers so warm and vital….
Later, neither could say who moved first, their lips coming together in a surprisingly tender kiss. Liam’s fingers slid up, burying themselves in Theo’s hair as the taller boy’s hands fell to Liam’s hips, one wrapping around to press at the small of his back, pulling him closer.
As far as first kisses went, it was pretty epic…or would have been, had Liam’s mom not interrupted them, shouting up the stairs to let them know dinner was ready.
Still, it was a hell of a kiss…and held the promise of far more to come.
TBC…….maybe? IDK, is this a good place to end it?
7 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
advocatevocalist
AdvocateVocalist
foxgambling694
foxgambling
x-harley-girl-x
INSANE CLOWN PUSSY
tinabtm
Take me