#if he took drama he’d probably do a tech role………

[misiahasahardname]

i have no idea how the american school system works so i’m currently trying to figure out what kind of subjects the tales turtles would choose for their highers

[fairytaleendingss]

Opening Night

@punky-peach requested: Hey, I saw your requests were open! Could you do a Brian May imagine with a female reader who does theatre? Like maybe him going to see one of her performances! If you can, thank you in advance! 💞

Warnings: None, I think...

Summary: Tomorrow is the opening night of your first broadway musical and your living your dreams. The only problem is that your boyfriend won’t be there to see it...

(a/n: This is the first request that I’ve received and I’m really excited about it. I hope you like it, I added a bit of my own spin on the story so hopefully that’s ok. Sorry it took so long to finish. I didn’t end up mentioning a specific show in it and I decided I’d let you guys decide what one you wanted it to be. Feedback is always appreciated.)

----------

You stood in the theatre, staring towards the stage that you had been rehearsing on for so long. You couldn’t believe it. Tomorrow was opening night! It was only four months ago that you had been excepted for the role and now you were just a day a way from performing live, in front of thousands of people. It was a dream come true. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of the doors to the theatre swinging open. You turned to see Mark, your co-star, strolling into the room. 

“Y/N? What are you still doing here? I thought everyone went home hours ago”. He walked over to you, throwing a curious glance your way before setting his duffle bag down on the floor beside where he was standing.

“I know.” you sighed. “But I couldn’t sleep so I came back”. 

Mark let out a low chuckle before glancing down at his wristwatch. “You do know it’s almost two am right?”. 

“I know. I just had some time to kill.”

Mark sighed and swung a comforting arm around your shoulder. “Y/N. I’ve known you long enough now to know when something is wrong. Talk to me. What’s up?” 

When you didn’t respond Mark took hold of your wrist, pulling you across the aisle and sitting you down in one of the puffy red seats that would soon be filled with eager audience members. 

He tilted your face towards him, giving you a sad smile before muttering “It’s Brian. Isn’t it?”

You glanced down at your lap, fiddling with the engagement ring on your finger. 

“I just hoped he would be here”.

--

Brian May had been your boyfriend for two years and your fiancé for six months. You had met him when you were still in drama school and he and the band were only just starting out. 

They had played a show at your university bar and you happened to be there, having a post-exam drink with some of your classmates. 

Funnily enough, it was Roger that had hit on you first. He was blind drunk and sweaty from just having played a gig, when he strolled up to you and your friends, chucking around a few pickup lines and offering to buy you a drink. However, he wasn’t the one you were interested in. 

During the show you had taken notice of the tall guitarist that stood off to the side. You were mesmerised by his demeanour. He had a subtle intensity about him and had drawn you in from the moment he started playing his solo.  

Roger had been in the midst of his third drunken pickup attempt that night when Brian had approached the two of you, apologising for his friend’s behaviour and offering to buy you a drink to make up for it. The rest was history.

You were there for Brian through thick and thin. You’d watched his band rise to fame and had even come with him on some of his tours, standing backstage at every show and always being there to congratulate him on a great performance once he came off stage. 

Which is why the fact that he wouldn’t be there for your first ever broadway performance was even more heartbreaking.  

--

Mark sighed. “Hey, you know he’d be here if he could”. 

You turned to look at him, doing your best to hold back the tears that were inevitably filling your eyes. “You’re right. He’s just busy. Thats all”. 

“Cheer up hun”, Mark muttered sending you an apologetic smile. “Tomorrow is opening night and you’re playing  a major role in one of the worlds most famous musicals”. 

You turned your gaze once more to the stage in front of you and felt butterflies begin to flutter around in your stomach. Mark was right, tomorrow was the night your dreams would come true. 

--

After locking up and saying goodnight to Mark, you caught a taxi back to your hotel. You stared out the window and at the city around you. Buildings flashed by in a blur of light and colour, you could see parties happening on roof-top bars. New York truely was the city that never sleeps. Your gaze drifted towards the night sky and you thought of Brian. He was so many miles away yet you would still be staring at the same stars every night. You thought of him, travelling the world with his band and living out his dreams, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at that very moment.

When you arrived back at your apartment, there was an eery silence in the air. You made your way to the bathroom before shrugging of your clothes and climbing into the shower. You stood silently in the hot water, letting wash away all your nerves. 

Eventually, you sat down in bed. Rubbing your hand over your face, you glanced at the clock on your bedside table. 3:00 am.

You decided that you should probably get some sleep considering your show was opening tomorrow; however, after about 20 minutes of tossing and turning, you eventually caved. 

You grabbed the phone from beside the bed and dialled the number that Brian had given you a few days ago. 

Holding the receiver to your ear, you let out a huff of air as the phone rang. What were you even planning to say to him?

You were about to hang up when the ringing stopped and and you were greeted by a familiar English accent on the other side of the line.

“Hello. This is Brian speaking.”

“Hi Bri. It’s Y/N.” You fiddled with the phone chord in your hand as you spoke. Why were you so nervous?

“Y/N, my love. How are you? It’s so nice to hear your voice!”

You smiled. Even when Brian was thousands of miles away, he was still able to make your heart race. You closed your eyes for a moment, imagining him sitting, in all his curly-haired glory, in a hotel bed in a European city. You imagined him glancing out the window at the view, a cup of tea in his hand. Then you imagined yourself laying beside him, smiling and laughing at a stupid joke he made about the weather. 

“Hello? Are you still there?” 

You quickly snapped out of your day dream when the sound of your fiancé’s soothing voice rang through the receiver. 

“um...yeah, sorry. I was just thinking”. You cringed at your own awkwardness.

“About what? If you don’t mind me asking”

You sighed, the sound echoing loudly through the silent bedroom.

“It’s just...”. You felt tears prick in the corners of your eyes. “I just miss you so much and...I don’t know...with opening night tomorrow and everything. I just wish you could be here”. 

There was a pause and you could imagine Brian running a hand over his face, thinking about what to say next. 

“I know love, I do too but it’s important that I’m here on tour. I can’t let the fans down. But I promise Y/N, we’ll see each other soon.”

“I suppose...” you muttered. 

Brian went to respond but before he got the chance too, you heard a door bang open and the sound of three excitable men entering your fiancé’s hotel room.

“Oh! Brian, darling. Who are you talking too?” You recognised the voice as Freddie’s, coming out muffled through the phone, as if he was standing far away. 

“It’s just Y/N, Fred.” 

“Ooo! Let me talk to her!” 

Freddie snatched the phone from Brian’s hand, bringing it up to is own ear.

“Y/N, my love! How are you? I heard tomorrow is the first night of your show! How are you feeling? We must come to see it some time...”

You chuckled at Freddie’s enthusiasm before wiping your eyes and trying to stabilise your shaking voice. 

“I’m doing well Freddie”, you lied.

--

That night you went to sleep in tears, clutching your pillow too your chest. You understood that Brian had to tour, you really did, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Eventually, after a while of back and forth conversation between you, Brian and the rest of the band, you decided to get some sleep before the show tomorrow. You reluctantly hung up the phone, telling Brian you loved him before falling into a restless sleep.

--

The next day went by quicker than you ever expected. There was a final rehearsal in the morning before the tech crew had to set up the stage for the show.

You were extremely nervous and excited at the same time and spent the day laughing and joking with your costars. However, throughout the day, you couldn’t help but have a lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

It was around 6:30 that night and you were standing backstage at your show. You glanced in the mirror, taking in your amazing hair and makeup. You took a deep breath, rubbing your sweating palms on your dress. The show was beginning in 30 minutes and you could hear people staring to arrive in the venue outside.

You turned your head to the sound of the door opening and watched Mark strut into the dressing room, looking dashing as ever in his costume. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, taking a seat on the small lounge/couch. 

“Overwhelmed.” you responded. 

You both let out a nervous chuckle before he turned towards the door.

“There’s a lot of people out there” he smirked. You could tell Mark wasn’t as nervous as you. He’d been in the industry for a while and had performed in a number of successful broadway shows.

He focused his gaze on you and how you were twiddling your fingers in your lap. 

“I think people are taking their seats now. Do you want to go and have a look?” 

Mark nodded his head in the direction of the door and you sighed. 

“I don’t know Mark. I should probably be doing my vocal warmups. The show starts in 15 minutes and....”

“Come on!” Mark cut you off. “You’ve been warming up all day, this will be fun”.

Before you could respond, Mark grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you out of the dressing room and in the direction of the audience. 

“Have a look” he whispered, standing at the side of the stage and pulling the curtain open just enough for you to get a view of the audience. 

You peered out into the sea of people, all settling into their seats and chattering enthusiastically amongst themselves. It was an unbelievable experience! All of these people were here to sea you!    

Your eyes scanned the crowd for a second longer before they landed on a sight that weren’t expecting to see. You did a double take, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

There, in a booth with the perfect view of the stage, was your fiancé and his bandmates. They were chatting eagerly amongst each other and you saw his eyes light up as Deaky made a joke from beside him. 

You turned to Mark who had a smirk plastered onto his face and playfully slapped him across the arm. 

“You knew about this?” you glanced at him with wide eyes. 

“We wanted to surprise you!”

Before you could say anything else, one of the crew members ushered you both backstage to prepare for the opening. 

--

Walking onto that stage, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through you. The audience was dead silent, entranced by your performance. You delivered your lines flawlessly and hit every note perfectly in your solo. 

At one point, you glanced up at Brian and you could have sworn you saw him tearing up.

At the end of the show, the audience doused you in enthusiastic applause and you smiled widely as you stood on stage alongside your fellow actors. 

Eventually, you came off stage. Sweaty and tired but full of joy. You sat in silence in your dressing roo  for a moment, reviling in the success of your first show. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a gentle knock on the dressing room door. 

As soon as you opened it, you were engulfed in the biggest hug of your life. 

Pulling away, you looked at your fiancé who was smiling brightly at you. You took in his features for a moment before pulling hm towards you and kissing him passionately. This was the first time you’d seen him in months and you couldn’t express the joy you were feeling. 

“You were absolutely incredible!” he muttered, bringing your lips to his once more. 

You eventually pulled away when you heard someone clear their throat. Glancing behind Brian, you noticed his three bandmates standing awkwardly in the doorway.

You immediately rushed towards them, throwing your arms around them in a massive group hug. 

“I’m so glad you guys are here!” you pulled away, rubbing tears from your eyes and turned back to Brian who was gazing at you proudly. 

“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Ushering the boys into your dressing room, you took a seat on a chair in front of the vanity. 

“So what did you guys think?” you asked, starting to pull bobby pins out of your elaborate updo. 

“You know...” Roger began. “I’m not usually one for theatre but that was really something.” 

“You were fabulous, darling!” Freddie cut in. “And I must say, I loved your costume. I should really talk to the designer about making something from me.

You all chuckled and Brian came to sit beside you, gently wrapping his arm around your waist as you all chattered. 

This really was a night to remember.

[nothingunrealistic]

top ten jared & evan interactions in the deh novel

honorable mention) the following texts sent to evan by jared:

“you’re the best. i really mean that.”

“grapefruits. your balls are the size of grapefruits. how do you walk around with those things in your pants?”

“i was going to text you.”

10) jared quoting amy winehouse in an email and evan making him take it out (“that’s a song.” “a great song.”)

9) evan claiming he could probably figure out how to backdate the emails on his own and jared throwing time zone technobabble at him to convince him that he still needs jared’s help

8) evan asking jared to meet him at connor’s wake

7) evan reassuring jared immediately post-words fail that he didn’t tell anyone about jared’s involvement in the lie, and then texting jared nine times in a row to apologize and ask if they’re good

6) jared and evan’s text conversation about evan being too busy with the connor project to hang out with jared that weekend abruptly turning into a face-to-face discussion, which is one of the few changes made to canon by the novel that i actually appreciated. can you imagine the effort jared had to make to appear right in front of evan at the perfect point in their conversation? do you really think a straight man could achieve that drama? that panache? that power?

5) jared requesting to be referred to as the tech consigliere of the connor project not just on the website but in conversation, and evan telling him he’s being unreasonable but then calling him that anyway when they’re pitching tcp to the murphys, without even being reminded

4) evan telling jared about what happened at the first dinner with the murphys - to be specific, the moments right before evan tells jared about what’s happened when he’s reflecting on why he always comes to jared with new developments, as follows: “Jared is the only person in the entire world who has even the slightest appreciation for where I am. I’m floating through space and he’s the voice in my earpiece from central command. I might not agree with his tactics, but without him, there’s a good chance I may never get back home.” val emmich wrote that and they LET him

3) jared arriving in the school cafeteria with the buttons of connor’s face, which leads to the following moments:

evan seeing jared’s arms spread and immediately taking it as an invitation for a hug. how long has he wanted to hug jared?

jared telling evan “i’m trying to show you something” and immediately pointing to his heart

jared’s exit from and zoe’s entrance to the scene being described with the phrase “jared saunters off and zoe takes his place”

2) the scene between them in the hallway on the first day of school, in which the conversation from the musical plays out mostly unchanged but evan’s internal monologue is completely focused on how he’s known jared for years and spent so much time with him and misses the memories of when they hung out together and can tell that jared’s attempts at being Cool And Unaffected don’t always work and thinks jared is hotter than he could ever be. Jared Is A Dick, But He’s My Dick

1) every single line of jared and evan’s estrangement and reconciliation, from “you would have thought we were ex-lovers the way we tiptoed around each other,” to jared appearing out of nowhere (again) to give evan a ride, to evan musing about how good jared looks (again), to “it took a second to remember the way we were,” to evan realizing how much he’d missed jared and that jared was always trying to save him from himself, to “and my role was to be our moral compass,” to “i never told anyone,” to “jared and i weren’t the soldiering types, but in a way, we’d been to battle together, and there was no one else besides the two of us who knew the true depths of what we had done,” to “miracle of all miracles, jared kleinman had a heart,” you’re in a car with a beautiful boy and he won’t tell you that he loves you but he loves you!!

[scribblescrabblebabble]

RoyEd Week 2k19 Day 1!

Title: Seven(?) Days

Rating: T+

Relationships: Roy Mustang/ Edward Elric

Chapter: Day 1- Modern AU (high school theater fluff & dramatic!Roy)

Cross- Posted on AO3 and Fanfic.net links- Fanfic.net   AO3

Best quality reading will be through the links, not on Tumblr itself because I’m too lazy to do italics and shit right now. For @royedweek2019 ‘s RoyEd Week!

Day 1- Modern AU

           Ed stared bleakly down at the many slides and switches laid in front of him. He had finished his homework an hour ago, so now all he could do was sit in the small booth and watch his classmates argue with the Drama teacher below him.

‘Theater People’ He thought with an eye-roll, ‘Roy’s real lucky I’m such an upstanding boyfriend for helping him like this.’

           “Edward, honey, turn on the presets for scene five!” Mrs. Lamine, a Drama teacher very befitting of the title, called from the stage as she directed Ed’s aforementioned boyfriend and a few other students to stand over little strips of colored tape.

           Ed gave a quick thumbs-up and pressed one of the preset buttons, and all lights but for some red and blue lights on-stage dimmed or turned completely off (he had watched in trepidation as two techies hung the gel-covered lamps from bars over the stage on a rickety-at-best scaffolding a week ago).

           The board had been easy to learn, compared to the “computer stuff” (as Roy dubbed it) Ed worked on for fun. His only real qualm with his current situation was just about everything else about participating in a high school theater production when he could be doing just about anything else. Stupid Colin and his broken legs, and the wheelchair non-accessible light booth. Stupid Roy and Al, too, for their dumb influence over Ed’s emotions. And, most of all, stupid theater for having a production in a week and not enough funding to hire a booth guy.

           With a sigh, Ed leaned back in his chair and watched Val Smith screw up her lines for the umpteenth time that hour.

--------

           Of everything he hated about staying until seven at school every day for an extracurricular he couldn’t care less about, the sheer nosiness of the actresses (especially Val fucking Smith) got to Ed the most.

They were running a few scenes with just the house lights on for the moment, so Ed had nothing to do until Roy and Jean managed to remember their swordfight choreography the whole way through (and it wasn’t like Ed didn’t absolutely love watching Roy accidentally hit Jean in the shins with the prop lance, but at this point they would actually have battle wounds when they weren’t even really supposed to touch each other!). Suddenly, Ed saw two of his classmates, Christy and Paninya, approach the light booth in his periphery. He hadn’t heard the balcony door creak open as it usually did, so their sudden appearance took him by surprise. Their all-too innocent expressions didn’t a thing to soothe Ed’s irritation, either.

“Hey, Ed.” Paninya greeted quietly as they slid into the booth and crouched next to him, filling up the little free space he had.

“What’s up?” Ed asked nonchalantly. He knew from their smiles that they weren’t just up here to ask after his well-being.

“So… You and Roy are an item.” Christy stated.

Ed blinked, taken off- guard. Sure he wasn’t exactly private about his relationship with Roy, but none of the theater girls had previously so much as acknowledged it (Ed had his suspicions it was because they quietly resented Ed for snagging their dream boy away from them). He slowly said, “Yeah…. So what?”

Paninya shook her head quickly, “No, we don’t care or anything. We think you two are really good together! We were just curious about something. Actually, we have a bet, you see.” The scheming smile was back.

‘Oh God,’ Ed thought.

Christy asked through a little giggle, “Who tops?”

------------------------

           “You’re not really still salty about running lights, are you?” Roy asked incredulously. True, it had been a week, but Ed was nothing if not persistent. Plus, he had one more whole week of this ordeal, and if he had to deal, so could Roy. However, Ed hadn’t quite planned on his “salt” affecting his current situation, which saw him straddling Roy in the dark-haired boy’s beanbag chair, an amused smirk cast upon his bright red blush.

Ed scowled through his flushed cheeks, removing his hands from where they had been previously removing Roy’s shirt, “Is now really the time?”

“You’ve never pouted so much during a thrall of passion; I had to ask.”

Ed groaned, “Don’t call it a thrall of passion, ya dork! I was just reminded of stupid Christy and Paninya and their dumb bet.”

Roy laughed loudly, “Oh geez, of all the times!”

“Yeah I know, right?” Ed scowled, yelping a bit when Roy ran his hand lightly up his waist.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re helping out. I like getting to see you after school.”

Ed’s blush could have melted ice, “Shut up and continue doing what you were doing, you ass.” Roy laughed, yet compiled all the same.

---

           That Thursday night, it was Al’s turn to bear witness to Ed’s tirades (not that he hadn’t had an earful already). It was the night before opening night, and they had just come back home from the final dress rehearsal, Al still smeared in stage makeup, and Ed wearing a scowl to beat all other scowls.

           “Fuck the stupid theater!” He growled, throwing his backpack onto the couch as Al pulled out a Tupperware of leftover dinner with the note ‘Left this out for you boys to eat after rehearsals. Dad and I won’t be home until tomorrow morning. Don’t get hurt, we don’t want you two to turn up at work. <3 – Mom’

           “Mom and Dad left out some food, Brother. Let’s eat.”

           Ed nodded, “Did Mom leave a crappy ER joke?”

           Al shrugged, “It’s more of a warning this time. Hurry up and sit, I’ll toss the food in the mic for a sec.” He did so, keeping his back to Ed at the kitchen table as the food spun around cooking, “Ya know, I’m really glad you’re doing this for us. I know you’d rather be doing other stuff.”

           Ed huffed, “What? How could you tell?”

           “I really hope that was sarcasm, Brother.” Al turned to see Ed, legs kicked up on the table scrunching up the decorative table cloth their mom insisted on laying out to “accent the fruit bowl”.

           “Do you know me, Al? I’m made of sarcasm. And anyway, it’s not a huge problem, I’m sure Roy would have just bugged me until I gave in anyway. I just don’t see how you can stand being around those people for so many hours every day!”

           Al rolled his eyes over the mild jab at his friends, “I mean, you chose to date a theater guy, so I don’t know what you can really say about that.”

           “But it’s Roy.”

           “Yes, exactly my point. The biggest personality in our theater class: Roy Mustang.”

           “What’re you getting at?” Ed asked.

           “Well,” Al responded, “I’m just saying that if you can handle Roy every day and choose to date him, then you can deal with Val Smith for a few hours.”

           “But it’s different! Roy’s cute when he’s being dramatic. Val makes me want to punch something.”

           Al shook his head, “You confuse me, Brother.” The microwave beeped, and Al served up the warm food. Ed took a large bite of his pasta.

           “You nervous about the show, Al?” He asked around the food in his mouth, changing pace.

           Al blinked, “A bit, but I’ve got a pretty minor role. I’m more nervous that our poor excuse of a tech class will screw up a set or not get the right stuff onstage between scenes or something like that and throw off the flow of the performance.” Al paused to eat some food before continuing, “What about you?”

           Ed cocked a brow, “You know I don’t a fuck about this play.”

           “But you’ve got a pretty important job. If you mess up a light cue, everyone will freak out and mess up.”

           “So? I won’t fuck it up.” Ed shrugged.

           “You’re not even a bit nervous for Roy? You don’t give a fuck about the play, but you do give a fuck about him.” Ed paused, wishing Al didn’t know his thought process so well.

           “Well… I’m worried that Roy’ll be a big drama queen about wanting me to do well if that’s what you mean. You know how he is.”

“But I thought you said he was cute when he was dramatic.” Al giggled at Ed’s blush.

“Not when he’s being dramatic over me!”

Al burst into real laughter over his brother’s flustered face, “He’s probably gonna be more nervous about himself messing up than you, in all honesty.”

“But he’s, like, the best actor y’all have (no offense)! He’s got nothing to worry about.” Ed defended. In all honesty, it hadn’t crossed Ed’s mind that Roy may doubt himself onstage. Sure, he had some self-confidence issues (it took Ed ages to convince Roy to come out to his friends- all part of the theater- about their relationship), but he seemed so… relaxed when he acted! Ed just assumed he’d be less unsure in himself in that area.

Al sighed, “He is the best- that’s why he gets super anxious backstage. He’s got a reputation to uphold. It only happens right before he has to go on, so I’m not surprised you haven’t noticed, but he gets all freaked out and panicky. Almost threw up once.”

“Ew, Al, I’m eating!” Ed groaned, squeamish with puke in conversation, “So what you’re saying is that if I mess up, it’ll get to Roy’s head and he’ll have a panic attack?”

“I didn’t say that! God, Ed.”

“Well you don’t have to, because I won’t mess up and Roy will be great, and you’ll kill it, and this play will be a hit. I didn’t waste two weeks on this damn thing to fail my one job opening night.”

Ed stood with that comment, scraping his leftover food into the garbage (Al winced at the waste) and taking his leave to go finish his homework with a quick “Goodnight” to Al. The younger Elric brother to the last bite of his dinner with a smug look on his face, having new confidence in Ed’s secret enjoyment of the theater. All he had to do now was get through opening night, and the rest would be a breeze.

-----

At last, it was opening day, and Ed could see the light at the end of the theater-shaped tunnel. Only today and the weekend to go before he’d have his afternoons back and Roy would be indebted to him interminably. That is, Roy would be indebted to him once he got out of whatever dumb slump he’d been in since that morning. He’d been distracted during all of the classes they shared, and not just his usual “too cool to take notes” kind of distracted! Ed had his suspicions it was because of the play, considering what Al had told him last night.  

At lunch, Ed and his friends ate in their usual stomping grounds- the chemistry teacher’s classroom. He’d let them eat there on the conditions that they clean up after themselves and help set up for his labs after they eat. He entered the room, surprised to find his brother and Roy there, chatting with James Slayton (a classmate of Al’s who liked to hang around Ed’s group). It wasn’t unheard of to find either boy in the chem room with Ed, he had assumed they would be eating with their theater friends before the big show.

“I didn’t expect you guys to be here.” Ed said when Roy and Al noticed him set down his backpack and lunch tray at his usual desk, “Not hanging out with the cast?”

Roy shook his head vigorously, “They wanted to run lines for the first act while we ate. If I have to hear that script before tonight, I’ll scream.”

“I tagged along.” Al shrugged, turning back to James.

Roy sat at the desk in front of Ed, turning his body around so that he faced his boyfriend, his chin rested on his folded arms at the end of Ed’s desk. Ed poked him on the nose with his plastic spoon, “You tired?”

“I’ll have you know I slept wonderfully last night… with the help of Melatonin. I just want this show to be over with.”

Ed blinked, “I thought you loved acting.”

“I do! It’s just… opening a show is always nerve-wracking. The first show can really set morale for the rest, so it’s gotta be good. And some actors, not me, of course-”

“Oh, of course.” Ed agreed wryly, receiving an exasperated look from the other.

“-some actors just get progressively worse and worse if they start out making mistakes. It’s a mental thing, ya know? Everyone wants the show to go smoothly, but nobody trusts the other actors to take it seriously and try their best!” Roy sighed.

Ed grinned a bit at his expense, taking the opportunity to run his fingers in Roy’s hair with the hand not holding his fork. Russel and Rose entered the room around this time, immediately making gagging noises at Ed’s show of affection. He put his fork down to flip the duo off before turning back to Roy, who looked like he was trying not to laugh in favor of being dramatic and sad. “You’ll fucking rock it, Roy. You know that. Besides, how can this thing fail if I’m involved? Like I told Al, I didn’t waste two weeks of my life to let my efforts crash and burn. Plus, you get to beat the shit out of Jean with a fake sword! You’re forgetting your blessings here, man.”

“That’s the spirit,” Roy laughed, “Can I snag a fry?”

Ed consented said snag, wondering aloud, “Did you not get your own food?”

Roy shook his head, now lifted from his arms, “I’d throw it all up.”

Ed put down his own fry, “You and Al need to stop it with the puke-talk!” He could hear Al laugh behind him as he exited the classroom with James for more food, Ed presumed.

Roy was going to respond, when Val poked her head into the room, obviously looking for him, “Roy! We’ve been looking all over for you, we need to run lines for scene six and find Al! Meet us onstage in five.” She flipped her hair back and strode back into the hall.

Ed noticed Roy instantly slump back down and couldn’t stop the angry, “Fucking bitch,” from leaving his mouth.

Roy shook his head, “Only on production week. Usually, Val’s sweet.” He moved to stand, looking confused when Ed did as well.

“No, wait a moment!” Ignoring his friends’ joking comments about PDA, Ed pulled Roy into a hug, murmuring, “Don’t let yourself get too worked up, yeah? I’ll see you after school.”

He could practically feel Roy’s smile as the boyfriend in question gave Ed a reciprocating squeeze and stepped back, “See you then.”

He turned with a wave and left for the theater, and Ed sat back in his seat.

“You two are disgusting,” Russel commented. Ed just grinned at him.

-----

As Ed predicted, Roy killed it onstage. Jean probably had a few new welts from that sword, but the scene looked great so he’d let it slide. As a matter of fact, the only person who majorly messed up was Val Smith (which had Ed mentally cheering, unabashed at his own malice. He just really fucking hated Val). Back in the changing rooms, Ed found his boyfriend hugging a few of the actresses in celebration of a well-done opening show, face red from exertion and makeup wipes.

“What did I fucking tell you, Roy Mustang?” Ed asked, making Roy look up. The girls (Christie and Paninya, Ed noticed with a grimace) collectively grinned and pushed Roy out of their arms to Ed, who caught him before they both crashed to the ground. Roy’s laugh was contagious as he hugged Ed tightly, and the blonde found himself chuckling along with him.

The quick (and rather violent, in Ed’s humble opinion) kiss was a surprise, and Ed was still reeling a bit as Roy raved, “Ed, it went so well! You did great!” above the ‘Oooooo’s sent their way by Al and Jean (who was, in fact, holding a small ice pack to his waist).

Ed blushed a bit at the compliment, “Hey, I told you I wouldn’t let my wasted afternoons be for nothing. Besides, tonight was pretty fun, at least. Not saying the rehearsals were at all, though.”

That seemed to be the right response, because Roy totally lit up, obviously glad that Ed had had some fun in the subject he adored. Then, however, a smirk blanketed his glee, “So you’d help with the next show too?”

“What? I NEVER said that! You must be diluted or something!” Ed fussed over Roy’s laugh.

But as they left each other’s holds for Roy to finish changing back into his normal clothing Ed realized, deep down, that he would most likely end up helping his boyfriend if he asked. Because, as much as he hated theater, he kind of fucking loved Roy Mustang.  

[elareine]

In the shallows

Chapter: 2/6 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings for this chapter: Some swearing, mentions of racism (no slurs), guns and addiction Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, NO CAPES, Identity Porn, Romantic Comedy, Drama & Romance, Texting, Online Dating AO3: /18803473

Chapter One

Why is LA traffic so terrible.

R_n_R: You get used to it.

It’s like there’s a thousand damned souls on the freeway each morning and we just haven’t noticed we died yet.

R_n_R: Jesus, did you skip your coffee or something?

…Maybe.

Big day today. Wish me luck!

Two weeks into the pre-filming stage, Jason and Dick finally got together to work on the music.

“So. This is when they first become a couple, right?”

Dick frowned. “I don’t know if that’s accurate. They don’t kiss until after that scene, and they don’t talk about it until much, much later.”

Jason honest to God was rolling his eyes at him. “You honestly think they need to kiss to be together? They’ve both made the decision to do this, right?”

Dick barely managed not to yell at him. “I don’t think it was that conscious for Vano, but continue.”

“Thank you.” The sarcasm was grinding. “So I got the bridge and all that, but we need to figure out the chorus part. It’ll be you alone at first and then together. Like this…”

Jason started playing.

Listening to him, Dick felt all his annoyance fade. Say whatever you wanted about Jason - the man knew how to write songs. Hearing him sing live was different from streaming him on Spotify, too. It felt a bit surreal to be in a room with this… this genius.

“For arrangements, I was thinking just the acoustic guitar at first, then later the piano and more strings. Drums for the finale.”

“Yeah, it’s good.” That was admittedly a bit of an understatement.

Jason didn’t look fazed by Dick’s apparent lack of enthusiasm. “Here are the lyrics. Let’s try it together, yeah?”

After a deep breath on Dick’s side, they did. It was fine until they came to the chorus Jason had talked about. It had sounded great when Jason had done it alone, but with Dick…

There were a lot of long notes and Christina-Aguilera-style ’ah-ah-ah’s. It was just a lot. Dick barely got through it.

Jason didn’t look impressed, either. “Okay, again. Just the second part. This time, remember to breathe and get loud. Put some power into it.”

Dick glared. Way to be encouraging, asshat. “Okay, bring it.”

Infuriatingly, Jason just grinned as he started playing again. At least Dick was annoyed enough to forget about worrying. It probably improved his performance.

Still, he felt kind of stupid, singing his heart out as if he was at carpool karaoke.

“Better. Again. Stop feeling self-conscious.”

“Oh, thank you, that helps.”

“You’re an actor, right?” Jason barked. “So act. This isn’t your song, it’s Vano’s.”

Right. Vano, who loved Mateo and wanted to share this moment with him. Who found a voice in this scene.

“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in // I’ll never meet the ground // Crash through the surface // Where they can’t hurt us // We’re far from the shallow now…”

Dick’s heart beat faster when they finally came to a finish. Yeah, okay. That had been much better.

Jason looked approving, too. Despite every bad thought Dick had about him, that did feel good. “Fucking great.”

Before Dick could, you know, bask in the compliment or anything, he added: “Though you were off-key. This is G major, not minor. Again.”

It was going to be a long day.

Do you sing, too? Or just play the guitar?

R_n_R: Hey, there’s no ‘just’ about it! Guitar is difficult!

R_n_R: I sing too, though, yeah. Why?

I don’t know how people do it.

R_n_R: Talent and work. The usual combination.

No, I don’t mean that.

Don’t you feel exposed?

R_n_R: Pretty sure there is an exhibitionist joke in here somewhere

R_n_R: No, but seriously, aren’t you an actor? What’s different about singing? Just that it’s less your thing?

That too. I’m vain, in case you didn’t notice. I’m not me on stage or in front of the camera though, am I?

R_n_R: Interesting. I never looked at acting that way.

R_n_R: With singing it’s… I mean, I’m a songwriter because I think there has to be truth in the music. Even if it’s just a fun song about sex.

R_n_R: People notice when you’re just putting it on. Might be enough for a hit or two with the right manager, but you’re not going to last.

R_n_R: Look at Adele. Are her songs revolutionary? No. Are they continually evolving masterpieces of songwriting? No. But it’s not just her voice. She’s got that magic. You believe every emotion she sings about. It’s never too much.  

R_n_R: Not saying there isn’t a skill to it. Obviously there is.

That’s what I’m worried about. Lessons can only teach you so much.

R_n_R: This for a recording?

Yeah. Sorry, can’t tell more.

R_n_R: It’s all good, I know how it is.

R_n_R: Who cares if you get it right the first time then? You’re not playing live. Auto-tune and techs will fix what you can’t.  If the songs are good (I’m assuming you didn’t write them) and you’re decent technically, just focus on being honest. Or honest in your role.

R_n_R: I have no idea how that part works, obviously.

Haha, thanks. That’s actually reassuring, tbh.

And no, I don’t write the songs. Wouldn’t even know where to start. How do you do it?

R_n_R: Depends. Sometimes it’s a motif (melody snippet) I can’t get out of my head, sometimes a feeling or a song lyric. Then I just sit down and try it out until I got a solid idea, and then write it down. And then it changes again when I’m playing it with other musicians. How do you approach a performance?

I usually get a script, right? So it’s not making it up in my head so much as trying to understand what the writers and the director envision and then turn that into a fully formed character with mannerisms and a distinct voice and all that. I used to fill out reference sheets with character building questions, but these days, it comes naturally.

But honestly, movies are broken down into small scenes that you repeat over and over and over again, so it’s more important to stay in that moment. You need to be able to fix it on a character timeline, sure, but ideally, you stay in the feeling and give the director something slightly different each time to work with.

Why, got a big acting job lined up?

R_n_R: Luckily, it’s not much of a requirement in music videos, but I’ll take any help I can get ;)

R_n_R: But seriously, enough shop talk. Wanna watch another episode?  

Even as filming started in earnest, relations between Jason and Dick didn’t exactly improve. They didn’t argue all the time, but Dick was always relieved when someone else joined them for lunch. One Tuesday, it was one of the main sound technicians. Dick barely knew him, but Jason seemed to, as they immediately started a good-natured argument over West Coast vs East Coast venues.

Honestly, it was pretty funny. Despite himself, Dick laughed when Jason described New York clubs as “full of wannabe writers and singers”, but still better than “the wannabe-celebrities in LA”.

Kyle looked at him. “You’re both from New York, right?”

Jason snorted. “You say that as if it means we should know each other, Kyle. Are you still on about that East Coast Elite conspiracy shit? ‘Cause let me tell you, we ain’t it.”

Always escalating the situation, that man.

“I was born there, yeah,” Dick acknowledged to diffuse the situation, “but my parents were circus folk, so…”

Kyle looked taken aback. Dick was used to that, so he just added: “We never stayed anywhere long. I consider our circus my home town.”

“Huh. Well, I’m from a small town in South Carolina.

“I’ve seen your so-called ‘town’, Kyle.” Jason actually made the air quotes with his fingers. “It’s about as Guns, Jesus and Country Music as you can get.”

“And yet you played our local theater.”

“Dude, in the beginning I would’ve played a McDonald if they’d paid us in veggie burgers.”

Kyle slapped his back, laughing. “That’s my Jason.”

Jason flinched visibly. Then he tried to laugh it off immediately, but Kyle looked at him with concern. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just took a tumble a couple of days ago. Just a pulled muscle.” He grinned. “Don’t go thinking your weak-ass slap did that, dude.”

Despite himself, Dick cringed. He’d been injured for most of the filming of ‘Step Up 6 - Heatin’ Up The South’ and it had been a pretty shitty experience. ‘A star is born’ wasn’t nearly as physical, but thinking of all the lifting Jason had had to do over and over again this morning, he offered: “Would you like some painkillers? Pretty sure I got some in my trailer.”

“No.” Jason’s answer was more brusque than the offer demanded. Even Jason himself seemed to realise that because he added: “Thank you. I took something earlier, don’t want to mix.”

Yeah, when exactly? They’d been stuck together for the entire day. Dick would’ve noticed. Still, he mentally shrugged it off. If Jason wanted to be in pain, he could be, for all Dick cared. 

 Tell me about yourself.

 R_n_R: Uh.

 Not, like, identifying information. What do you like, besides music and movies with plenty of explosions?

 R_n_R: This isn’t going to be much of a surprise, but travelling. It’s one of the best things about being on tour.

 Do you have time to really see a place?

 R_n_R: I try to take it these days if scheduling allows.

 R_n_R:  My band’s, I mean. It loses us some money, but I think we all benefit if it’s not just one anonymous stadium after the other.

 God, yes, I hate that about press tours. At least with filming on location, you get to see the area. What’s your favorite place to visit?

 R_n_R: Yeah, with promotions I never know where I am, either. Favorite place…

 R_n_R: Man, that’s difficult.

 R_n_R: What’s yours?

 Just so you know, I can tell you’re stalling. Tokyo blows me away every single time. I got to see a lot of Japan, actually, and it was so beautiful.

 R_n_R: I went on this Japanese game show once, it was fun. Just doing physical games against a boyband that’s super famous there. Not much talking needed, which was good because I always feel terrible I don’t speak more than a few phrases of the language.

 Well, you’re just traveling through, right? At least you tried.

 C’mon, answer my question.

 R_n_R: I kind of fell in love with Berlin.

 R_n_R: Not the prettiest city by any means, but there’s just so much on offer and no one looks at you twice no matter what you do or look like.

 Sounds like New York.

 R_n_R: Kind of, yeah. They have a similar vibe, but obviously, Berlin is more European. Also amazing bookshops. I stumbled upon one that’s sci-fi and fantasy only.

 Wouldn’t the books be in German?

 R_n_R: Nah, there were plenty of English ones (and other languages). It’s a very international city. The seller told me many people like to read books in their original language, if possible, and most of them speak English in some capacity.

 So you like reading then?

 R_n_R: Yeah.

 R_n_R: Confession: I spent most of the day just there. There was a market hall with food stands right next to it and two more bookshops, one specialising in mysteries, and yeah. I got stuck.

 Sounds amazing.

 Though I gotta admit, I prefer audiobooks these days. Just more convenient to listen to while I’m doing something else.

 R_n_R: See, I can’t do that, I need to sink into it.

 I’m just bad at sitting still.

 R_n_R: Not judging! I think it’s cool there are so many ways to get to experience a story these days.

 R_n_R: Listened to anything good lately?

Dick tried to be a giving actor, really. Until today, Jason had been a receptive partner. Today, though, he was going through the motions woodenly, not picking up on any cues, really. It negatively influenced Dick’s own acting, and Dick could feel himself tensing up, knew he was slipping from the character.

Two hours and countless takes into the scene and Dick snapped.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he asked even before Kate called ‘cut’.

Jason glared at him. “My job.”

“No, you’re fucking not!”

“Both of you, shut up.” Kate wasn’t happy. “We’ll take twenty. Get over whatever crawled up your asses and come back ready to work.”

Jason nodded and wordlessly stalked off. Dick forced a smile on to his face: “Sorry, Kate.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him off.

Whatever, this wasn’t his fault, Dick thought as he walked over to his trailer. Jason was just impossible today. Fuming, he took out his phone, ready to complain to Rock_n_Rumble, when he saw that there was a text waiting for him.

 R_n_R: Not feeling so great today.  

Immediately, Dick shoved Jason the back of his mind. That asshole wasn’t that important.

 :( What’s happening?

 R_n_R: Just ran into an asshole racist this morning.

 ?? Are you okay??? What happened??

 R_n_R: Said he was a fan, but, you know, clearly didn’t get the memo that I’m not available for his white supremacy bullshit.

Dick knew that feeling all too well. His blue eyes made it easy for people to forget he was Romani. These days he tried to talk about it as often as he could in interviews and stuff, but… people saw what they wanted to see.

R_n_R: Nothing unusual - you know how it is right now - but he was carrying a gun and I wasn’t. Didn’t pull it, but.

That sounds terrifying R

R_n_R: Kinda was. I dunno, I’m just still feeling slightly off-kilter right now and I can’t concentrate at work.

That’s understandable. Can you take a break?

R_n_R: Am on one right now.  

Me too. Won’t be long tho - anything I can do?  

R_n_R: Tell me not to do what I used to.

Dick’s mind started racing with the possibilities, but all he typed was: Whatever it is, don’t. Those assholes aren’t worth it.

R_n_R: Thank you.

R_n_R: Okay, time to pull myself together. No use taking it out on the wrong people. I can go punch something later.

Look, there’s literally no way you’re being as much of an asshole as my co-worker today, so.

R_n_R: Pretty sure there’s every way, but I’ll do better now.

As if on cue, there was a knock on Dick’s door. “Mr Grayson? Filming will resume in five.”

“Thank you, I’ll be right there!”

Gotta go. Take care, ok? <3

R_n_R: You too. Punch your co-worker for me.

When he returned to set, Dick wasn’t in any mind to deal with Jason��s shit, but the other man seemed to have pulled himself together. He didn’t talk at all beyond the necessary between takes, which usually would have annoyed Dick to no end but honestly worked out better than what happened before.

Turned out they didn’t need many takes after that.

Maybe it had just been Jason being scared of being vulnerable? Dick knew some of these tough guy types were.

Still. He would have expected the guy to be enough of a professional to not let it bleed into their work and fuck it up for everyone else.

When he fell onto his couch that evening with a sigh of relief, Dick’s phone chimed with a new message.

R_n_R: Sorry to have put that on you.

R_n_R: I did mention I was an addict before, right?

In passing.

Dick was about to add more, to tell him it was okay, that they didn’t need to talk about it today, but R_n_R kept texting as if he hadn’t seen Dick’s ‘typing’ status.

R_n_R: I don’t know what it’s like for actors but honestly, once you’re on tour and even halfway famous, drugs are fucking everywhere. It’s not an excuse - I grew up with that shit, I know better. Got put on some opiates for an injury and never got off.

R_n_R: So I needed pills to push me up.

R_n_R: And alcohol for my nerves, which weren’t doing so great with all the other stuff I was taking. Weird, right?

Dick’s hands were shaking. Now more than ever, he wished he could at least hear R_n_R’s voice on the phone to soothe him; or better yet, be face to face with him. Hold him through what was clearly a painful thing to tell.

R, it’s fine. You don’t need to tell me.

R_n_R: No, you should know what it means. You know, if we ever meet. I’m always going to be an addict, just hopefully a clean one.

R_n_R: My mom died of an overdose. I’m not going to be her.

Promise?

R_n_R: I promise.

R_n_R: And you never need to worry about setting me off, okay? Like. Even if you decide I’m an asshole and not worth it tomorrow, my stuff isn’t on you.

Dick hadn’t even realised he had tears in his eyes until one dropped down on the screen. Still, he was smiling, too.

Thank you. For that promise and for telling me.

I don’t think you’re an asshole at all. Kind of the opposite tbh.

[locallygrownavocado]

So I LOVED Tech Week! The AU is amazing and fresh, and the characters were true to canon but also modified nicely into the setting and situation. I would love to see some more of this universe as some cute one shots showing the different personalities of the skaters as portrayed in your AU. Love love love! 😍

Alright, so first of all, thanks so much for the ask!! I’m so glad you liked Tech Week!!

Second of all, ask and you shall receive. :) Huge shout out to @caitsyoi for betaing this quick for me and making sure it’s at least slightly coherent. :)

****

Leo was pacing. It wasn’t even the cute ‘walk three steps and turn around’ pacing, either. No, Leo de la Iglesia was spanning the whole hallway, back and forth, back and forth, music pounding into his ears at a volume that was probably louder than necessary.

Maybe if he went deaf from the headphones, he wouldn’t have to hear JJ gloat when he inevitably got the lead.

Again.

It would be just like Cinderella.

Except this year it would be worse because they were seniors. They were seniors, JJ was drama club president, and this time he’d be the actual lead instead of a love interest.

God, Mickey was going to die.

“Leo,” Guang’s voice said, somehow cutting through the music. “Sit.”

Leo looked at him skeptically but caved within seconds. He sat down on the floor and took his headphones out, giving the best smile he could.

Guang just laughed. “No use pulling that here. I’ve listened to you stress over the cast list for the past three days, I know you’re a mess.”

Leo shrugged as Guang started working through his hair. “It was worth a shot. And is that really necessary?”

“I told you. If you want to keep your hockey flow, it’s getting braided. No exceptions.”

Leo sighed but didn’t protest.

They were the first ones to the scene- Guang had a study hall seventh period and Leo had left Algebra early. Technically, they still had three minutes until the bell rang and their hallway filled with people.

Three minutes never felt so slow.

Eventually, the time passed and school was officially out. People flooded out of classrooms and into the hallways, ignoring Guang and Leo sitting by the auditorium wall.

It took less than a minute for the next drama student to arrive- he practically flew around the corner, almost knocking over a crowd of cheerleaders. Thankfully he came to a stop before tripping over Leo and Guang.

“What did I miss?” Minami asked eagerly. “Is it out yet?”

Leo just laughed. “The bell literally just rang, remember?”

Minami shrugged and sat down on the floor. “I mean, you never know. Maybe Mr. Nikiforov posted it during seventh period.”

“JHS Drama Lesson number one,” Leo said with a smile. “Nikiforov never does anything early.”

“Ever,” Guang added for emphasis as he stuck a bobby pin into Leo’s hair.

A few more people drifted into the foyer. A small group of freshmen formed in the corner, Emil and the Crispinos finding space a bit farther down the hall.

Mickey already looked annoyed.

That wasn’t a good sign.

At least Emil had put on some muscle over the summer and could probably hold him back.

Yuri was the next arrival, looking pissed off as ever.

“Leo you look like a fucking princess, what the hell.”

Guang just laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll do yours next.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and found a spot to sit against the wall.

A few more minutes went by, the remaining drama club members slowly trickling into the hallway. Guang finished Leo’s hair, poking a few more pins into the braided crown.

“Beautiful,” Minami said. “Do you do hair dye?”

Guang didn’t get the chance to answer.

“I brought cupcakes!” JJ announced as he walked into the hallway. “Nothing like sugar to keep the nerves away, am I right?”

“Buying affection yet again,” Yuri muttered bitterly.

JJ just laughed. “So you don’t want a cupcake?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course I want a fucking cupcake.”

“Hey, where’s Otabek?” JJ asked while passing Yuri the tupperware container. “He’s coming, right?”

“He’s with Nikiforov. He’ll bring the cast list down when it’s ready.”

“Nikiforov’s not bringing the cast list?” Emil asked from across the hall.

“I mean can you blame him?” Mila answered. “After what happened last year?”

“What happened last year?”

Leo sighed. “Alright, I’ll answer that one,” he said before JJ or Mickey got the chance to interject. “Last year we did Cinderella, right? It was a good show. But long story short, there were a few people upset about the casting of Prince Topher, and there was a bit of a fight when the list was posted. Nobody got hurt or anything, but stuff was said. Nikiforov got yelled at pretty bad, a few people quit the show. I think he’s trying to avoid a repeat performance.”

“People actually quit the show?” one of the freshmen asked. “Over casting?”

“JHS Drama Lesson number two,” Leo said. “Nobody out-dramas the drama department.”

“Ever,” Guang added for emphasis.

“Well, I mean you can’t really blame them,” Mickey muttered bitterly. “The casting was awful.”

“I’m right here,” JJ shot back. “God, could you just-”

He stopped suddenly, eyes snapping to the other side of the hallway. A few of the freshmen laughed. Yuri rolled his eyes for what had to be the fifth time in three minutes.

“Hey, Isabella,” JJ said smoothly. “Welcome to the party. Cupcake?”

Isabella smiled sweetly but shook her head. “No thanks, sorry,” she said. “I’m sure they taste great.”

JJ’s face visibly fell, but he quickly recovered. “It’s all good, don’t worry. More cupcakes for the freshmen.”

“More cupcakes for me,” Emil corrected as he reached for another.

JJ just laughed. “Should I save Otabek a chocolate or a vanilla?”

Yuri shrugged. “Give me a sec, I’ll ask him.”

For a moment, things were relatively quiet as Yuri typed into his phone.

“Wait,” JJ said. “You’re texting Otabek. Otabek’s with Nikiforov. Nikiforov has the cast list… Do you know things?”

Yuri just laughed. “Trust me. I know all thing things.”

Leo couldn’t help but perk up at that.

“Who?” Mickey snapped.

Yuri just rolled his eyes.

“Yuri Plisetsky you can’t just say something like that… And after I brought you cupcakes?”

The stage manager laughed. “Well, for starters, the role of Al Peterson is going to Sara Crispino.”

Leo hoped one of the freshmen got JJ’s reaction on camera.

“What the…”

“Haven’t you heard? It’s like a steampunk, gender-bent interpretation of Bye Bye Birdie.”

“Nikiforov would never,” Mickey said curtly.

“JHS Drama Lesson number three,” Leo said. “Nikiforov would do a lot of things if he didn’t have Lilia Baranovskaya breathing down his neck.”

“Ever?” Guang said hesitantly. “Does it work in that context? I don’t think ‘ever’ works in that context. Leo, you messed it up.”

“Sorry?”

“How the hell would you even steampunk Bye Bye Birdie?” JJ wondered aloud. “It’s set in the freaking sixties.”

“Fifties,” Mickey corrected. “God.”

“You know, this is why nobody likes you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Starting this shit already?” Otabek said. “I mean I would’ve thought you’d be able to hold out at least through the read-through.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Look, nobody asked-”

“Otabek!”

Thankfully, the stage manager was able to move before the cast flooded the auditorium doors. Leo ended up slammed between Emil and Minami, not quite tall enough to see the list. He could hear the reactions, though.

“Wait, does that mean-”

“What the actual hell.”

“Leo de la Iglesia, my man.”  

After what felt like forever, Emil moved out of the way and Leo started to read from the bottom up.

Minami was going to be Randolph.

Mila was Mae Peterson, she’d be great at that.

Mickey was Hugo Peabody, that in and of itself would be hilarious.

Sara was Kim Macafee.

JJ was Conrad Birdie.

Leo had to reread the line.

JJ was Conrad Birdie.

Conrad Birdie.

Not Al Peterson.

Isabella was Rose Alvarez, not that it mattered.

No, the only thing that mattered was the first line of the cast list, the name Al Peterson, and the name printed next to it.

Leo de la Iglesia.

All of a sudden, he was painfully aware of the whole cast’s eyes on him.

He froze.

And then Emil started what had to be the most chaotic group hug in drama club history.

“You, little man, are gonna kick so much ass,” JJ said. “It’s gonna be great.”

And somehow, standing in the middle of a full-cast group hug trying not to suffocate, it really was great.

(New to this AU and looking for Tech Week? Full story is here.)

[froggheadd]

So,,,, we got Michael's life before they met, can we get Jeremy's?

Jeremy started doing ballet when he was 5 years old and he actually enjoyed it a lot, and he was pretty good at it. But when he was 8, his Mom decided ballet wasn’t appropriate for a little boy, and she pulled him out of the class even though Jeremy begged for her not to. 

When Jeremy got into middle school and he was picking his electives, he really wanted to take a computer class, but none were offered to 6th graders. So he had to choose between PE or Drama, and he figured that in drama, at least he’d be able to skirt by and hopefully not get noticed. He was so nervous on the first day of school, he got lost because the school was so large, and he was late to his first drama class, so the teacher made him sit in the front row. A few weeks into the class, he started to participate a little bit more, and the teacher took him aside and asked him to audition for the school play because they’re in desperate need for guy actors. Jeremy goes along with it because the teacher offers extra credit, and he figures that he probably wont get into the play, and he can just do tech crew instead. Running a soundboard doesnt sound too bad? Maybe they’ll let him do the lights? But he goes into the auditions and actually does pretty well? He asks to not be a lead because he isn’t ready for that pressure. But by the time he’s in 8th grade he’s the lead in the play. His dad is really supportive of him, and incredibly proud, his mom comes along a little reluctantly because she’d rather see Jeremy doing sports.

In high school he keeps participating in plays and most of the time he’s the lead, but every so often he’s one of the supporting roles. People recognize him around school as the kid who’s always in the plays and honestly, Jeremy doesnt mind. He loves doing theatre and its helped him come out of his shell.

[dudence-blog]

Dear Dudence for 8 March 2018

Been doing some home projects and was very proud of a nice TV shelf I built. Very proud of how it turned out and I can still count to 10!  YAY!  Winning.  So, now we’re off to the questions and answering them for people who don’t know I’m answering them! 

My father passed away last year and I’ve finished up most of the legal matters, but I have boxes and boxes of family photos. My father was born very poor, but I doubt members of the British royal family have led such documented lives. I have hundreds of photos of him at every stage of his life. I have photos of my mother—including an album and 16 mm film from her first wedding, a marriage that only lasted eight months. I have photos of my grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great-great grandparents. I have school pictures, team pictures, travel pictures, holiday pictures. All these photos completely fill a large walk-in closet.

Dear Family Photos, you don’t need to sacrifice your space and time to store something you don’t want.  I do think you should do what you can to preserve those items.  Just because you can’t imagine who’d want to see it doesn’t mean no one in your family, or elsewhere, won’t.  if you’ve got the money to spend it would probably be worth looking into a photo organizing/digitizing service.  You could probably even solicit financial help from the rest of the family since it is a project aimed at the family.  Get an estimate, shoot out and email saying what it’s going to cost and see if anyone would like to PayPal you some of the cash.  Depending on how much you value your time and doing something else with it the several hundred to over a thousand dollars for such services might even be cheap.  If you’re balking at the cost try and get some other interested family members to come over and go through the bounty.  Put everything that can be identified in one pile, that which can’t in another.  Apply whatever filters you want to the first pile; “We want 10 photos of Grandma and Grandpa”, “At least one photo from every house we lived in”, whatever.  Let your imagination run wild.  When everything is filtered take the discard pile, contact your local historical society or a heritage society and see if they’d like some of the photos (great-great-great grandparent pictures might feature background locations which have been destroyed for decades).  If there is a design or art school in the area see if they could use it; old photos can be used in projects, for inspiration, whatever.  Finally, just take some handfuls, post them on eBay as bulk vintage photographs and sell them.  You don’t need to let your family’s history dominate your storage space, but you can fulfill your role of custodian and not let than happen.

We took in my son’s girlfriend when she was 15, after her stepfather broke her arm and her mother threw her out because she wouldn’t lie to the police to protect him. She was the daughter people pray for: kind, respectful, and smart—she graduated fourth in her class despite everything she went through. My son and her broke up in their senior year, but she continued to live with us even while our son went off to college. (She went to community college and became a pharmacy tech.) They are both 23 now. We see her regularly and consider her part of our family. My son’s current girlfriend dislikes this. She says she will not come to visit us if we continue to have her over, and guilts my son for coming alone. He skipped Christmas and Thanksgiving last year on her orders.

Dear Like a Daughter, sometimes it’s really hard not to let me mind go wild filling in missing context.  Such as how much of “what my girlfriend said” have you heard from the girlfriend herself and not through your son?  “How does your son feel about his ex becoming his ‘sister’ in the eyes of his family?”  “Was their break-up mutual and amicable?”  “Are there any sort of lingering romantic feelings from either party?”  Taking everything at face value your son is probably letting his dick do a bit too much of his thinking for him.  Disappointing, but understandable.  It also means you probably don’t need to worry about this breaking up your family or you losing your son.  He’ll be moving on.  Taking this a step deeper though, let’s look at what’s going on here.  Your other children have discontinued contact.  You’re using some pretty hurtful language to describe your son’s disappointing but not wholly unusual actions, and I’m going to question just how welcoming you are towards his new girlfriend given you’re referring to a woman he’s been with for at least half a year as “the girl he has been sleeping with”.  Finally, your foster daughter is a young woman herself, maybe she should be finding her own “boy/girl she has been sleeping with” so she’s not left with “Ex’s family” as the only people she has in her life.  

My mother remarried when I was 17 to “Dan.” Dan was accused of molesting several neighborhood girls after I was 23 and married. The evidence was pretty damning: Beyond the girls’ testimony, he sent explicit photos to a 12-year-old girl and tried to get her to do the same. Dan plea bargained and served less than a year in prison. My mother stood by him during it all and even sold the house my dead father left her to pay for Dan’s legal fees. Her support of Dan broke our relationship. Our last serious conversation involved me begging her to see the evidence (the texts had just come to light), and I asked what she would have done if I had been one of those molested little girls. My mother said that wouldn’t have happened because she didn’t raise me to be a “slut.” Since then, I don’t visit and rarely call my mother.  I am pregnant now, and we know it is going to be a little girl. After we posted the news on Facebook, my mother sent me a physical letter explaining that she was sorry about our “estrangement,” excited to be a grandma, and hoped this would be a new beginning for us all. I miss her so badly, and never thought I would go through this without her.

Dear Mom’s Support of a Child Molester, wow… and then there’s the letter which fills in a lot of the contect.  This is not better.  On principle I have a tough time condemning someone for loving who they love; emotions are weird.  But I think you’ve got to make the difficult decision to cut your mom out of the loop for the time being.  Maybe permanently.  It’s not the “being married to a child molester” part which really squicked me out, but the part where she says the girls bore some responsibility for Dan’s actions.  It would be one thing if she admitted he’d done some terrible things, but she still loves him in spite of it… he paid the price for his actions… blah blah blah.  I mean, shoot, a father in Texas just successfully petitioned the governor to commute his son’s death sentence, the sentence he received for murdering his mother and brother.  Your mother’s view of the victims is really the red flag here.  I’d leave the option open to repair the breach in your relationship with you mom, but it’s going to have to come with her having a reckoning of just how, and why, she has supported Dan.

I attended a trivia event with some fellow “mums of young bubs” for a girls’ night out. I was having a great time until I saw some of the women cheating by Googling answers. This made me feel uncomfortable (I’m an honorable soul), but the awkwardness grew worse when at the end of the night we won the second-place prize (a bottle of wine—each!) by only two points. We cheated on more than two answers, so we definitely cheated other tables out of prizes.

Dear Trivial Trivia Concerns, if you only won by two points despite Googling it’s likely the competitors were doing so as well.  That really doesn’t matter though since your issue is with the cheating itself.  When you go next month tell the girls you don’t want your team to cheat.  You’re enjoying the night out in and of itself and will happily supply the wine if you don’t win because you were playing fair.  Heck, you’ll probably be supplying better wine than you’d get from a bar’s give-away for a trivia game.  As for what to do with your ill-gotten gains: drink the fucking wine.

One of my best friends since teenage years (we’re in our mid-30s now) has consistently made terrible dating choices: abusive men, drug addicts, just plain jerks, you name it. She is a great single mother to a wonderful 6-year-old, and got back together six-ish months ago with “Jake,” a guy she briefly dated a few years ago. She recently moved in with him, and while he seems nice enough, even she admits he is not the sharpest tool in the shed and doesn’t have a lot of personality or interests. In fact, this is why she broke up with him in the first place. When I expressed surprise that they were back together, she made a comment about how she was just ready to “settle” because she was tired of being single.

Dear Best Friend Troubles, this is an AB issue and you should C your way out of it.  Do you know why your friend thinks Jake is dull without a lot of personality and interests?  It’s because he’s not an abusive, drug addicted jerk.  After a decade or so of filling her life with shocking levels of drama she is with someone who does not bring the noise.  As a metaphor, just because a habanero pepper isn’t as hot as a ghost pepper, doesn’t mean the habanero isn’t also hot.  Jake most likely is plenty interesting as “Jake”, he just appears uninteresting because his interests don’t include a series of unfortunate events which inexorably lead to a visit from the police.  Honestly, that you’re proudly stating how your friend views you as a font of relationship advice, and your advice has led her to a string of soul-destroying horrors, you might want to rethink the little voice in your head telling you that you’re not sure if you should be encouraging her relationship with nice, personable Jake.  Let me be blunt, you need to see something shocking to the senses if you come away from your visit to your wrong-side-of-thirty single-mom-with-a-history-of-abusive-relationships friend saying anything to her but your best wishes for their happy future together.  

I am 34, with a Ph.D. and a successful, happy life. I am regularly mistaken for being much younger—often a college student. (I live in a city with many colleges, which probably doesn’t help.) Though I’ll be “thankful for this someday,” according to many well-meaning but semi-irritating strangers, I have struggled for years to think of an appropriate response to people’s surprise upon learning my actual age. For a bartender or checkout clerk, a smile and nod tends to be OK. (I’ve also tried, “Yeah, I get that a lot and I never quite know what to say,” but that never seems to help.) In a professional environment, things feel a bit weightier, as I don’t want people to assume my experience and skill set is below where I actually am.

Dear Not as Young as You Think, the appropriate response is “Yeah, I get that a lot,” which you already know.  And it is going to continue to be annoying for you until the inevitability of time consumes your youthful appearance.  Hopefully it is more gradual for you than it was for Dorian Gray.  And involves less murder.  What I do wonder about is your professional situation.  Since your phd isn’t assumed is it something which isn’t expected in your field?  It is entirely possible that “you are much earlier in your career” compared to peers only a couple years older than you, despite you being very educated and credentialed.  They spent the years you were in school working.

I’m a 23-year-old woman and have been dating my girlfriend for just over eight months. I’m over the moon about it, we’re happy together, and we communicate well. Here’s the thing: She’s a bit high-strung and tends to react to small issues in life with tears. We’ve spoken about it and she has reassured me that it’s not a big deal, and that when she cries it doesn’t necessarily mean that anything terrible is happening. I really struggle with this. I grew up in a household with a lot of abuse, both physical and verbal, directed at everyone. My self-appointed role as keeper of the peace meant that I spent my entire childhood on the lookout for subtle signs of distress in everyone so that I could try and mitigate it. Someone crying sets off all of my alarm bells for “something I have to fix,” and it is very hard for me not to overreact to her tears.

Dear Not a Big Deal When She Cries, you know, I’m going to go ahead and say that the high-strung person in a relationship isn’t the one with the hair-trigger tears but the one who is a self-appointed relationship peacekeeper from the abusive household who is struggling to adapt to someone else’s emotions.  It is entirely possible this is just an issue which the two of you are incompatible.  When you’re still in the euphoric happy banging stage of a relationship and you’re finding yourself emotionally drained and internally annoyed by her innocent behavior that is not a strong indicator for future happiness.  You should totally check into some options to help you deal with your issues from growing up, but it might not be much help for this current girlfriend.  Maybe you could try and find the girl from the “Like a Daughter” and see if she’s into some sapphic delights.  She’s got no one in her life and might be wasting her time pining for an ex who has moved on.  Give it a go!

[searching-for-mercury]

Voltron - Klance - Fake BF

All I Want for Christmas is a (Fake) Boyfriend

Summary: A while ago, in a fit of anger, Keith told his mom he had a boyfriend. Did he actually have a boyfriend? No. Did he care? Also no. At least, not until his mom, months later, tells him to bring his supposed boyfriend over for the holidays. Not wanting to admit he didn't have one, Keith asks around for someone to play the role and who agrees to play the part? The annoying guy from his Lit class.

(AO3)

----

Chapter One

Two weeks into December should have been the time to breathe easy, where the only stress ought to have been in preparation for and during finals week. The flurry of books and exams, papers and projects, all crammed into the last week of the semester. Long hours of studying could finally turn into hours of caught up sleep, of eating full meals at a normal pace. Dishes piled haphazardly in the sink could be washed, laundry done, and, of course, packing up the car to drive home for the holidays.

              But that was exactly Keith's problem: the holidays. He'd promised his mom he would drive the several hours it took to get there and stay a couple days for Christmas. He'd done it before and he'd do it again, gladly, if it hadn't been for one little thing -- his mom told him to bring his boyfriend.

              He didn't have a boyfriend. 

              A couple years back, he'd come out to his parents as gay and his dad was far more supportive than Keith had ever dreamt. But his mom? His mom was...doubtful. He didn't understand it and his dad tried talking to him about it before, but the point remained: his mom didn't believe he was actually gay. Maybe it had something to do with how, after his parents divorced, Keith had gone to live with his dad and his mom felt left out. Maybe she just couldn't wrap her head around the idea, maybe she needed time. There were a gazillion possibilities and he only thought about them after he got mad.

              In a fit of fury, he'd told her he was going steady with a guy from school and things were great; his relationship, his life, everything! He'd wanted to rub it in her face that he was gay and doing just fine! Better than fine!

              Time had passed and he'd sort of forgot about his fake boyfriend until about an hour ago when his mom called. What was he going to do? He either needed to find a boyfriend or come clean to his mom and just feel the "I knew it" vibes that would surely radiate from her the entire time he was there.

              No, that wasn't an option. He had to think of something else.        

              So he pulled out his phone and typed out something, thought about it, erased some words and retyped a few, and then sent it to two people. As soon as he hit send, however, he felt regret surge up from the depths of his stomach. His thumping heart didn't help any, either.

              It was a stupid idea, but that only made sense because he was a stupid person. Stupid, stupid, stupid--

              His phone chirped at him. Someone had responded.

              Unfortunately, it was Allura with a solid, "No, sorry, I don't think I know anyone who could help! Maybe try Pidge?"

              But he was way ahead of her. He'd already texted Pidge and he was really hoping she had a better answer. She was probably at work, though, so Keith went around trying to keep busy.

              Lists were made, vacuuming was done, and he even got around to cleaning the inside of his shower. It was when he was in the middle of making dinner, staring at the tiles on the wall and wondering if he should get a haircut before or after his family visit, that the fateful chime of his phone sounded.

              "Yeah, I know a guy," she wrote.

              Keith hummed with impatience. Couldn't she have just figured he wanted more details?

              "Great, can I have his number?" he typed back. Honestly, was it that hard to do?

              "No."

              Apparently so.

              After a bunch of typing back and forth, Keith was left with a sort of empty, nervous feeling that started in his feet, for some reason, and a date. Well, not a date date, just an appointment kind of date. Ugh, even in his head it sounded stupid. A meeting time. There.

              He would meet with this mystery person the next day in the park by Best Buy. It was where Pidge worked. She'd always been really into technology and picking apart computers. When they were younger, they would go find unfinished homes to sneak onto, just so she could peer into the walls and see how the wiring was laid out. That and play space pirates. Their echoes in those empty homes had always made everything feel more dramatic, exciting. They'd stomp down wooden staircases, crawl through open cabinetry, and have epic duels out on the windy, dirt-filled backyards, under dark clouds and the setting sun.

              But the wiring always came first. She technically worked at the Geek Squad that was a part of the Best Buy, but it was only a temporary thing until she finished her degree. Keith could never quite remember what it was, but it sounded important. Then again, a master's degree in anything always sounded important. Maybe it was engineering -- but he could have sworn there were more words to it.

              Regardless, he showed up the next day at three in the afternoon, holding a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, at the park she'd told him about. He was early. Pidge, however, was not, as she wrote in her text message.

              "Sorry, running late for work. Can you meet him alone?"

              Keith eyed the store from the wooden bench he'd just settled down on. If they sold binoculars there, they'd be some weird, hi-tech stuff. He narrowed his eyes just in case. If he didn't know Pidge any better, he'd have told himself it was a bit of a stretch, to think she'd set this all up only to spy on them from afar.

              He was halfway done writing, "How am I supposed to meet him when I don't know what he looks like," when someone stopped walking right in front of him.

              The guy was wearing real snazzy boat shoes and straight-cut jeans that were cuffed at the ankle. Keith looked up to find a striped shirt under a blazer-style jacket and then the face that put it all together. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't him.

              "Hey there, you're Keith, right?" the guy said. He had a smile whiter than the snow they were expecting later that week. It was a smile Keith had seen before, but never directed at him.

              "Uh, yeah," he replied.

              "We take a class together, don't we? Your face looks familiar."

              Keith nodded and gestured for him to sit down. "Modern Literature," he replied.

              He wasn't sure who he'd been expecting, but it sure wasn't the guy who held up his Lit class almost every single time during class discussions, talking about everything other than the actual topic. Keith wasn't much of a talker during those classes, he was more interested in his science classes, but this guy was the reason their class never got out on time. Five, ten minutes over their intended class period and the only thing on Keith's mind was murder. It had been his last class of the day -- he just wanted to go home.

              "You're the guy who doesn't like poetry!" the guy exclaimed.

              Keith was blanking on his name. Something with an L. Louis? Lars? La-- "You're Lance, right?" he asked, hoping that if any deity in the world existed, it would hear his prayers and tell him he was right.

              "Yup!" he said and gave another one of those smiles. He was always chatting up the girls in the class -- he even went so far as to compliment the teacher on her hair, though Keith was pretty sure that was only to get an extension on a paper. The point was, why was he there? Pidge had explained everything to him all proper, right?

              "Did Pidge, uh, explain things?" Keith asked. He could feel his face heat up, but he was really hoping it was one of those times that didn't show. "About what I was asking for?"

              "Oh, right, yeah dude, no worries," Lance said. "You're looking for a pretend boyfriend, right?"

              God, it felt so...pitiful, hearing it said out loud like that. He wasn't starved for a relationship or anything, he just had something to prove.

              "And you're fine with acting the part?" Keith asked. He hadn't even begun to start questioning if he, himself, was okay with acting the other part. With Lance.

              "Yeah, I mean, I figured we could talk about it some more," Lance replied with a shrug.

              It still didn't make any sense. Lance was okay with acting the part of a boyfriend for another boy. "Are you gay?" he blurted out. Well. That just happened.

              Lance's eyebrows went way up. They looked a little too neat to be natural. "Bisexual, actually," he said. "But no worries, you set the rules!"

              "Rules?" he said before it caught up to him. Oh. Oh. "Uh." He should have probably thought things out a little more. It sounded much worse than what he'd actually intended. "How about I explain the situation first?"

              Lance nodded and Keith relaxed into a retelling of everything that had happened to land him in such hot water. It made him feel better, though, explaining everything. Made him seem a little less creepy, maybe. Hopefully.

              In the end, Keith agreed to buy Lance Taco Bell every Wednesday of the next semester in return for everything playing a pretend boyfriend entailed. It felt a lot better than paying him with money (though he had offered), but not by much. He definitely wondered why Lance was so easy-going about the whole deal, but he felt it kind of rude to ask.

              Instead he went, "What about your own family? Don't they want you back for Christmas?"

              Lance just scratched at his chin and said, "Don't worry about it. I don't have any plans."

              Hm. It wasn't really an answer, but they weren't close enough to where Keith could just push on through with more persistent questioning. Why didn't he have plans? Was there family drama? Did he not celebrate Christmas?

              Not knowing what to say, Keith just nodded and fiddled with the plastic lid on his now-empty coffee cup. He kind of wished it were still at least a little bit of the way full -- he could always sip on it during the awkward pauses.

              "Can I get your number?" Lance asked. "I might have some questions before the big day. Or night. Or, well, all of that."

              Why was Keith's face getting all warm? There was absolutely no reason for his face to be heating up. It was December. The temperature was probably close to whatever zero meant. "Sure," he said and pulled out his phone. It was sleek silver thing that reacted a little too eager to his touch, encased in a striped red case.

              Lance's was blue with a crack in one of the corners.

              "Then I'll see you next week!" Lance said, bouncing off the bench. He laughed. "Taco Bell for a whole semester. Sweet."

              But before Keith could reply with, "It's really not that big of a deal," because Taco Bell was cheap and also garbage, Lance was striding away on those ridiculously long legs of his. There was a little wave involved, but Keith chose to nod instead.

              A whole week, huh? Yeah, an entire week to over-think things and regret all the decisions he'd ever made to land him in such a situation. Perfect.

 ~*~

                The picking up of Lance McClain, as it was so typed in his phone, was a relatively easy thing. In theory. So Keith didn't understand why he was parked in the parking lot of one of the school dorms, slouched in his seat, listening to Billy Joel's "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me." It was a good song and one of the few stations that would stay good during the whole four hours it would take to drive to his mom's house. It would change, naturally, but it just sort of fizzed out and then it was just solid rock music.

              But he didn't understand why he was sitting there, focusing on the lyrics, while Lance was doing whatever it was that was taking him so long to get downstairs and in his car. He'd texted him half an hour ago when he was leaving. He'd given him a whole week's notice.

              A small voice in his head was scratching at the possibility that Lance changed his mind and this was his way of canceling on him. But he chose to ignore that voice in favor of Billy Joel's more upbeat tone and wonder what 'white wall tires' could mean. He would have pulled out his phone to look it up, but he was afraid that if he did that, he'd also send Lance a stream of unpleasant, nagging texts.

              He really didn't want to be that person. He'd been that person in high school; he sure hoped he wasn't still.

              When Lance finally did stroll out of the double doors to the building -- and that's exactly what he did, stroll -- he was carrying two large duffel bags and a backpack. It was four hours away, not four weeks. And they were only staying for three days. Three.

              "Holy mother of god," Keith said. He was incredibly glad he was still alone in his car.

              After popping the trunk and grabbing the keys from the ignition (he'd locked himself out once and never again. Never. Again.), he hopped out to help rearrange some of his stuff to make room.

              "You read my text right...right?" Keith asked. "It's only three days."

              "Three days can mean a lot," Lance replied, swinging his first bag in. The second went in much more gently. His backpack he put in the backseat. "I like to be prepared."

              "For what, an invasion of zombies?" Keith muttered.

              Unfortunately, Lance heard. "Hey man, you never know. Doesn't have to be zombies. Could be aliens." He waggled his eyebrows.

              Keith only rolled his eyes and got back in his seat. Lance was still pulling on his seatbelt by the time he pulled out of the parking spot.

              "Is that what took you so long?" Keith ventured to ask. Hey, he hadn't sent the long stream of texts, but he wasn't about to just let it slide.

              "Yeah, I was making sure I grabbed everything," Lance replied. He was staring out the window at the passing buildings. "Like I said, gotta be prepared."

              "It's a house in the mountains," Keith replied. "Doesn't exactly scream dangerous."

              "Having never been there, I couldn't take my chances," Lance shot back.

              Keith sighed, deep and heavy. Whatever, they were in the car, on their way -- that's all that mattered.

              It grew quiet as Keith navigated their way through the town, but picked up again once they hit the highway.

              "Winter kind of bums me out," Lance said. "All the dead trees and frozen ground. I want summer! And the beach! Man, what I would give to go swimming just about now."               "Be my guest, there's a lake you can hike to near my mom's." It was probably frozen several inches thick, but why should that stop him?

              "You know what I mean." Keith didn't have to be looking at him -- he could hear the scowl in Lance's voice.

              "Hm, then you picked the wrong state to be in," Keith replied. "We, my friend, are land-locked."

              "You can still go swimming, though," Lance pointed out. "And there's actually a lot more to do here than by a beach. But still, can't deny the wonderful feeling of stretching out and soaking up the sun."

              Keith couldn't relate. He had skin that burned and blistered if he dared go out without sunscreen. He always had to carry around the smelly stuff, just in case it wore off. Higher elevations meant being closer to the flaming orb in the sky that turned his skin to a peeling, burning mess.

              "Anyways, I've got a question," Lance said. "What are we going to tell your mom when we get there?"

              Keith switched lanes -- there was a left lane for a reason, people. "What do you mean?"

              "You know, if she asks us how we met," Lance said. "Just a basic story."

              It was a question Keith had been thinking about the entire week. He just wasn't good with story-making. Meeting in a bar sounded kind of seedy, but would his mom believe something too picturesque?

              "How about our friends hooked us up?" Keith offered. It was pretty much the truth.

              "That's so boring!" Lance said, sitting up a little straighter. "Couldn't I have picked you up somewhere? Like, where do you work?"

              "A Call Center."

              "Oh. Never mind. I thought if you worked in a restaurant, I could have been enamored or something and just routinely had dinner every time you had a shift," Lance said.

              "Kind of stalker-y," Keith pointed out.

              "Not if you found it endearing!"

              "But I don't."

              "You could pretend. That's the whole point of this operation," Lance said, huffing. He slid down in his seat.

              Keith rolled his eyes. He didn't understand what was so important about what should be a simple story. But Lance was doing him a huge favor, even if badly made fake Mexican food was part of the payment plan. "We...met at school," Keith said. "Freshmen orientation. But we didn't start dating right away, we just started out as friends."

              He could feel Lance's eyes on him, but he remained focused on the road. Cars were slowing down, so either a cop was up front or they were hitting some traffic. He glanced down at the speedometer; it was legal.

              "Not bad," Lance finally said. "Can I still be the one who asked you out?"

              That time, Keith looked over. "Uh, sure?" he said.

              Another glance at Lance -- he looked a little pleased, a small smile curled up on his face. It reminded Keith of a cat an old neighbor had owned; was a tawny brown, fluffy thing with big gold eyes and dark paws. He'd seen it in the window every time he left to go catch the bus for school.

              Traffic picked up again and the radio started switching about an hour into their ride. Dark trees rolled by, though not very tall or thick. The road narrowed into two lanes, each in different directions. The curves around the mountainsides always used to make his dad nervous and they always knew when it got bad because their car would slow to a crawl.

              "I've got another question," Lance said all of a sudden. He reached out to lower the volume.

              "Shoot."

              But Lance fidgeted with his fingers a bit before responding. "How far exactly do we go to prove we're in a relationship?" he asked. "Like, what's appropriate? Do we hug? Kiss?"

              "Uh," Keith said. He kind of wished they'd discussed it earlier, when he wasn't driving past great big cliffs and around tight turns. "I'm down for whatever you are. I guess."

              "Cool," Lance replied. "By the way, can we stop by somewhere eventually? I could kill for a coffee or some water."

              Somewhere. Right.

              "You couldn't have asked when we were driving past all those gas stations?" Keith asked.

              "I wasn't thirsty then."

              "I swear to god," Keith grumbled.

              "Hey man, I didn't say right now. I just said it for when you, you know, see a good spot," Lance said. "Eventually."

              Was he going to strangle him? Probably not. But throwing him off the mountain did seem rather tempting. If they weren't stuck behind a minivan that had absolutely no business being there, he might have actually done it.

              Instead, he turned the music up again and continued driving to safer, less precipitous places. If he'd been driving with an actual boyfriend, maybe he wouldn't be having such a hollow, sour feeling in his stomach. Maybe he wouldn't be kicking his own ass for not making up an excuse to not go. A lot of maybes roamed around in his head, but nothing to make them settle, no tiny, wriggling bit of hope for a good time.

              "There!"

              Keith nearly flew out of his seat. "Jesus," he hissed.

              "There's a stop coming up!" Lance said, pointing out his window at a sign that passed by.

              "Any reason to shout it?" Keith asked. Luckily, he'd stayed in his lane. There was only a semi-truck in the other one. His heart was pounding and he'd definitely jerked the wheel. "Have you never ridden in a car before? Don't scare the driver. He is responsible for your safety."

              "Sorry," Lance said, but Keith didn't believe an ounce of it. "But there's a gas station coming up with a McDonalds and I think a Subway."

              "You hungry?" Keith asked.

              "A little, but you said we'd be eating dinner at your mom's," Lance replied. "But I'm thirsty and these legs of mine could use some stretching."

              Keith tried not to look at those legs of his.

              As he was turning into the area where the buildings sat, all nestled together, he asked, "So what'll it be?"

              "Hm, well," Lance said. "Let's try out the gas station first and if their drinks are expensive, we'll go through the drive-thru at McDonalds. Nothing beats that dollar menu."

              Keith wanted to ask, then why bother with the gas station at all? He breathed in, breathed out. Whatever, Lance had his reasons. Keith didn't need to understand or ask about them.

              He pulled the car into the parking lot, shifted into park, and went to unbuckle. Only he didn't get that far because suddenly Lance grabbed his face and kissed him. Not fully on the mouth, but enough.

              "What the hell?!" Keith sputtered, pulling back. His face was on fire. His face was on fire and he didn't care, but he did, and he couldn't help it, but he wished he could.

              "Yup, thought so," Lance replied.

              For once, Keith couldn't form a response fast enough.

              "We should practice kissing so that doesn't happen in front of your mom," Lance said.

              "Okay, first off -- you should have just said that before you went all, all... And secondly, I probably wouldn't react that way if you'd warned me about it," Keith said. Both points were basically the same thing, but his brain was still a little fried. "Who just goes around kissing people like that?"

              Lance scratched at his chin, looking a little sheepish. His shoulders tucked in a bit, like he wanted to make himself smaller. "Sorry," he said. It was a believable apology, that time. Hit all the right kinds of apologetic tones.

              Keith only nodded, frowning out the windshield at the brown bricks that made up the gas station. He kind of wished real life had a little angel and devil to talk to on each shoulder. Maybe not the devil, he did plenty of things he regretted enough on his own, but the angel might've helped. At the very least, it could have told him if it was bad to feel kind of excited about kissing the boy sitting in his car. At the thought of more kissing.

              Then again, most Bible-pushers said being gay was a sin, so maybe the angel would just berate him for that.

              "Keith?"

              He jerked back into their world. "Right," he said. "Practice. Um. Sure, but it'll probably be weird."

              And it was weird. But also nice. It was a lot nicer when Lance actually kissed him full on the mouth, all soft and careful. And then he was gone again.

              "Could you open your mouth a little?" Lance asked.

              Keith's head was either still stuck a few seconds in the past or Lance hadn't waited for a response. The second kiss was even weirder, what with Lance's tongue sort of swiping past Keith's lips, but not full on pushing through like he'd seen in movies. He was kind of glad for that. French kissing always looked so uncomfortable.

              "Not bad," Lance said the next time he pulled away. A half smile sort of snuck up on his face, and only later would Keith realize it was a sort of teasing expression. "You're a little stiff, but I don't think we'll have a problem convincing your mom we're in love." He ended with the last word in a sugar-coated, sing-song tone and a waggle of his eyebrows.

              Once they'd stretched out a bit, stocked up on drinks and snacks, they were back on the road. Keith's mind, which had been left behind, came racing back when they got stuck behind an SUV with a trailer hitched to the back of it. He slowed down a bit, checked the lines and the other lane, switched, and then drove his foot into the gas pedal.

              "Holy Tostitos, Batman," Lance hissed, holding onto the handle above the door.

              Keith ignored him in favor of getting back in their lane, before the truck heading their way made it to the same spot they were.

              "Could you slow down? Maybe?"

              "Why?"

              "Because I want to live? I've been wondering, do you always drive this fast?" Lance asked. He hadn't loosened his grip on the handle.

              "It's not that fast."

              "Dude, you are going like, ten or twenty over the speed limit, I am sure of it," Lance insisted.

              The rolling of his eyes did not go unnoticed.

              "Don't be blaming me if you get pulled over by a cop. Or we hit a patch of ice and go spiraling off road, only to hit a tree and die. Won't be my fault when you get blisters on your ass for landing yourself in hell because you killed lil' ol' me and--"

              "Oh my god, shut up!" Keith shouted and added pressure to the brake pedal. "We aren't going to die! My driving skills are great -- better than great! Haven't had an accident in my entire driving career."

              "Don't go jinxing yourself now."

              "I am going to throw you out the car."

              "Going 90 miles an hour?"

              "Yes," Keith said and traded a grin with his obnoxious fake boyfriend.

----

Hope you liked it!! <3 <3

[crysing-blog]

⤷ zayn malik, male & he/him. ⤶ looks like ✘ kian lowery ✘ just got back from their latest job, though around here we call them ✘ cry ✘ just in case the cops come knocking. they tend to work as a ✘ hacker ✘ which works because they’re so ✘ fast-thinking & anti-social. ✘ the boss won’t say, but i heard they’re here because ✘ he was running from his ex after quitting her drug trade. ✘

hey, i’m billie or b i’m twenty w the they/them pronouns and i have a basketball game tomorrow. this is gonna be very short n rocky because hey hello i’m just rejoining appless after a year of band/twitter rp n i’ve never actually intro’d in appless before!! yike oK HERE WE GO

kian was brought up in a large, less than poor family. with three sisters, two brothers, and an absent father... it was understandably fairly rough at times.

his mother fell sick early in his life, and therefore he ( being the oldest male out of his siblings ) took it upon himself to care for his family.

it became a lot harder when he grew older. he ended up working many jobs throughout high school, until his girlfriend offered him a much better paying one. inclusion in a drug trade. trafficking, dealing, and helping out her family members.

they’d been together since he was 15, with love for her since he was even younger, so kian put a lot of trust in her. he believed that she would lookout for him, his family, and was ( in a twisted way ) thankful that he was trusted enough to be in on this “family business.”

a few years into it, kian had earned enough money to be able to sufficiently care for his family as well as being on the way to helping his mother in her recovery, financially. he was enjoying it, having money and being able to care for the people he loved most.

that’s when things began to get rougher. they higher up members were becoming harder on him, as they were growing more paranoid with the days that went on. there was more violence, and fighting, and arguments. there were more risky situations with the police, and he decided it was time to leave.

his girlfriend had made her way pretty high up at the time, so he was worried about letting her down - about losing her. in which, he did.

doc found kian after everything hit the fan, when he had started to run from them. it was at the last possible minute, when they’d closed in on him. he was sure that he was done for, but at least he’d led them away from his family.

that’s backstory ! currently, he’s worried about his family and what’s going to happen to them. he’s doing this for protection of them, to make sure they’re alright, as well.

personality wise; kian is a very reserved person. he has a lot of discomfort and distrust, so he prefers to keep quiet. that being said, he loves being around people. analyzing them, picking up on traits and characteristics. he’s just more of a listener than a talker.

he’s always been super tech savvy. computers, gadgets, videogames, cellphones, anything. he loves it. bring that up to him and u will get him talking

he’s hard to get close to, but a real softie once you’re let in !

idk i mean yeh that’s about it

he’s kinda judgmental sometimes but he keeps it inside his head

i probably did this Wrong anywhom hmu for plotting i don’t have a page yet because i apped at like 5am Half Ded but yeah i love filling roles ! gimme drama, angst, fluff and soft platonic plots PLSSSS. i lov y’all already alright

[kendrixtermina]

Baby Reacts to: “Voltron Legendary Defender”

I’m not familiar with either of the show’s previous incarnations but from what I’ve heard they completely overhauled the characters anyways - supposedly Pidge was once an annoying tagalong kid (and a boy), Keith was a standard issue “hot-blooded mecha pilot”, Shiro was not there, or killed of in the first storyarc, and Allura was a completely different character with a wholly different design, more of a ‘princess classic’ with the looks & personality to macth, supposedly they redesigned her to make her more alien & then threw in the skintone as a hommage to her voice actress. In any case only the name is the same. 

I’ve seen some clips and it seems they had a much more outwardly fantasy-aesthetic going on with carriages & period costume, sort of more like Star Wars or Sailor Moon,  whereas the newest version seems roughly Star Craft esque in terms of their particular blend of Magitek. 

Otherwise it’s pretty straighforward: Evil Empire, Ancient Artifacts, Giant Robots, Space Fights, timefrozen hightech city left behind by the precursors etc. 

The evil empire has a renegate splinter faction but that too isn’t so exceptional (though welcome), the BoM reminded me somewhat of the Tok’Ra from Stargate in their reclusive, slow-to-act approach in that they have tons of futuristic tech but limited ressources & had to be won over first & there still being a lot of mutual distrust on both sides, at least at first.  

Rare in this day and age (and very refreshingly IMHO) the show unapologetically sticks to the basic genre & tropes without falling over its own feet trying to be clever  & meta - sure, they evened out the gender ratio a bit & made the structure of the battles less monotonous but we’re not beaten over the head with any of these things/fit them in naturally & the show never seems like it has something to prove & just lets its story be a straightforward giant robots & explosions kinda thing.

It helps that the artwork is great. 

The best summary of my general impression is that I’ll pobably tune in for season 3. My favorite character so far would be Keith closely followed by Pidge, and Shiro, but AFAIK everyone likes Shiro? I’m prolly b/c I’ve heard it’s terrible (The Umbridge effect is probably in full force...) also I’ve been told there’s a trailer out and I’d rather see season 3 unspoiled. 

Clearly there needs to be some payoff for Shiro grooming Keith as a potential sucessor but I’m hoping that after a few drama-filled episodes, they all go rescue Shiro from wherever he’s gotten to, Keith hands him back his helmet and they all go home together. I mean, he just got his own Bayard. It’s unclear what happened to him in any case, perhaps he was absorben Evangelion style. 

That said one of the show’s strenghts is the clear aversion of the “annoying comedic sidekick” even though it has many characters that has could theoritically fit that description - They try their best to give each of the characters something to do & various skills & likeable traits - Like you get why each of them is there and why they’re our heroes - they also took the time to make sure everyone got a few character establishing moment in the first episode (Shiro’s arrival, Pidge & Keith were already on their own quests by their own means, Hunk & Lance served as the PoV characters etc) and throughout the show they try to bring out everyone’s personalities through reaction shots etc. Like, ALL of them are awesome.

Also apparently this fandom has brutal shipping wars? Some ppl I was sitting next to kept cracking jokes about how [random yaoi pair] was obvliously into each other and after a while it got annoying through sheer persistence. 

I don’t think the show as a whole is going for that like if there was going to be a decent/central romantic subplot they’d have introduced it by now they seem to be content to simply be an action show & there’s not much content like that at all except for the occassional teasing for the sake of humor & Lance’s flirting (which is really more there to exposition his being a bit of a showoff) - the most that will come out of it is that when we see some epilogue telling us what became of everyone, Lance will be shown to have found a girlfriend after returning home to his mom & impressing his siblings with his heroic stories. 

To begin with they seem to be going for a different vibe with the main characters, with how all of them (including Allura) refer to each other as “family” or “brothers” all the time like I get the impression we’re supposed to interpret them more as simply comerades or quasi-siblings with Shiro as the big brother and Coran as the kooky uncle.  

Like I hate it when ppl dismiss already existing romantic subplots as “uneccesary”, “silly” or “pandering” but at the same time it’s not like every show needs to have one or like it immediately needs an explanation when one character doesn’t get a love interest(that they must be gay, ace etc... nothing wrong with those type of characters, or headcanon, but “we’re not doing romance genre RN/ the characters are busy fighting a war” should be a sufficient explanation in and of itself whatever the characters’ orientations are.) 

General Character Impressions:

Their secret seems to be rolling with the basic tropes but connecting them into an interesting structre, so it comes off neither overly in your face nor one dimensional.

Lance - ‘Average Joe Relatable PoV character’ except they made him not-boring by making him the snarky/funny one & giving (he’s got ice powers & is the designated long range fighter, both very cool powers, pun not intended but retroactively appreciated) as well as drawing logical consequences (He’s the most attached to earth because of his relatively ‘normal’ background & wants to prove himself because it seems he was the midle child among numerous siblings, hence the rivalry with the local ace pilot.) Sorta calls to mind the likes of Kyon from Haruhi or Sokka from Avatar.  

Hunk - For once the “all around nice heart of the group with the more intuitive, roundabout type of reasoning” isn’t the token girl but I’m glad that role’s still there because niceness & group cohesion is a valid attribute. The “nice person” is typically the healer or magic user but making them the defensive fighter makes just as much sense, especially with his personality as the more cautions common sense-y one who becomes committed to the mission through the desire to protect innocents. 

Pidge - The “secretly a girl” thing is kinda trite but it makes sense as a reference to the original and they still eschewed the tropes by how she was badass well before & doesn’t get treated any different afterwards - The plot twist is more that she’s related to the scientists from the prologue. Otherwise another potential spirit animal of mine, VERY relatable in ways I can’t count, fro the nerdy reactions all the way to the short stubby arms XD I’m also grateful that they didn’t give us that trite old “nature vs science” contrast but instead portrayed these as connected.  It’s like Kensuke from Evangelion, except as a girl & she actually got to be a pilot. 

Keith - The Rival Character. Second-best fighter  of the paladins, sort of a ‘larger-than-life’ superhumanly good ace pilot, to Lance’s ongoing chagrin (and indeed he turns out to be part warrior alien), also, predictably, the local cynic. Seems to have the least ties to earth/ have been looking for a purpose in life anyways.    Not quite a ‘stoic number two’ though - He’d probably like to be but he absolutely doesn’t really know when to shelf it, hence his being highly suceptible to Lance’s provocations & flunking out because of a “discipline issue” despite his aparent talent. 

Shiro - Former Ace Pilot & personal hero for both Lance & Keith. Got alien abducted & subjected to the full repertoire (gladiator fights, experimented on, augmented etc.) & is understandeably still rather shook from it. Serious disciplined military type & natural leader, hence ends up taking over almost immediately wheen stranded with a bunch of ragtag space cadet rejects and, as a result, becomes everyone’s beloved big brother figure./mentor. Supposedly just as loved by the fandom?  Actually still pretty young, he just looks mature in comparison to the others but he’s not above getting in a snowfight. 

Allura - There’s the “sweet princess classic”, the “fierce alien warrior princess” and the “glittery plot magic princess” and in Allura’s case they seem to have been thrown in a blender & put together in such a fashion as to make a more complicated character - She’s certainly fierce, somewhat agressive, suspicious & hellbent on her mission but she also has the diplomatic grace one would expect of a royal & ultimately she does have a sweet side (hinted at early on with her adorable animal companions) - The basic gist of it is that she’s a regular teenage girl somewhere, but has been trained for asskicking & diplomacy all her life, & now she’s the last survivor & feels the pressure to carry on her father’s torch & stop the evil empire so she affects a comanding presence most of the time. 

Also there seems to be some meme about calling her a racist (Ugh tumblr) ? This seems to me as one of this stuations where people want complex characters but cannot handle it if they’re not perfect or fitting into easy boxes. 

The whole point of her is that she comes from a different time & culture with it’s conlicts outside of the human character’s PoVs. Like point me at any angry alien princess who is NOT suspicious. Both being unfrozen and heck, even Zarkon’s betrayal are still relatively recent for her, and in the end she was just kinda avoiding Keith (granted, in what must’ve been a confusing uncertain time for him) more than actively being mean and she came through on her own & apologized. Like, it was just like Hunk said: She just needed processing time, something she’s been afforded preciously little of at any point ever, I mean she goes straight from realizing everyone she ever knew (except Coran) is dead to launching an offensive.  

Bonus: I shall attempt to MBTI the bunch

(In Order of certainty)

Hunk - most obvious ISFJ to ever SiFe 

Allura - ESTJ

Pidge - INTP

Keith - ISTP or possibly ISFP, certainly Se-aux tho. One the one hand he uses Fi-ish language in places (”If I don’t do this, I’ll never find out who I am...”) on the other hand he tends to prioritize the mission & is the most cynical/pragmatic of the bunch & tends to be stoic & objective unless provoked (”The rest of the universe has families too.” “Yeah but can we afford to rescue the princess?”) - His relative reactiveness when provoked is sufficiently accounted for by Se. 

Zarkon - ESTJ 

Shiro - ISTJ (though his instant commanding presence makes me doubt the I somewhat that said politician/leader ISTJs do happen. He seems to have been serious & dilligent even before all the trauma tho.)

Lance - ESFJ or possibly Se-dom, ESxx for sure tho. 

Coran - Clearly has Si and Ne but not sure in which order. If I had to guess I’d say he’s either a very dutiful ENFP or a very quirky ISTJ. 

[jhmyguardiangel]

Beastly Beautiful | Jeonghan | Ch. 4

Genre: Romance, Drama, Slice of Life (SoL), AU!Jeonghan, Elite!Jeonghan

Word Count: 4.8k+

A/N: chapter 4! sorry it took long! I was preparing for school! hope you enjoy it! Be sure to read previous chapters before you read this!

T/W: none, but please tell me if there is.

Summary: Two different people, two different personalities, yet destiny puts them together.

Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5

“I think I might be interested in you.”

I’ll be at the university for two days. I need to submit my papers.- was the last conversation you had with Jeonghan’s servants.

“WHO?” Mr. Ryu flinched at Jeonghan’s roaring voice so early in the morning.

“Young Master, Miss Y/N said she’s leaving for a while, to the university.” Mr. Ryu noted. Jeonghan rubbed his nose in frustration because you left.

“She left without telling me? And me out of all people?” his eyebrows were furrowed.

Mr. Ryu sighed, “She said she wouldn’t tell you in person because you wouldn’t allow her to leave- which I totally agree on that was why she told me instead. And she also mentioned that-”

“What?!” Jeonghan shook his head. “I’m already furious that she told you!” he sat down at the edge of his bed. “Whatever. Leave my presence.”

“But young master, there is one problem.”

-------

You safely returned to Seungcheon university and you flopped on your bed. You sniffed the newly washed bed sheets, it felt like years that you haven’t been in contact with your bed even though it had only been three days.

A loud banging nearly broke your door, Sejeong, you thought. She was the only person who would do that, and the only one to enter your room. She was your only friend in the dorm after all. The ever-so-positive Sejeong wouldn’t even let the tired you rest even just for a minute or two. You grabbed your remote and pressed the button that opened your door.

“Y/N! Thank goodness you’re here! That Jeongpoop kidnapped you out of nowhere! You’re not hurt are you?” she too, flopped herself on your bed as if was her own.

You let out a laugh. “Ah, I’m fine, Sejeong. He brought me to his house and ate lunch, and that was pretty much it for the next two days.”

“Oh lunch is fin-” she paused, looking at you with wide eyes, “He brought you to his house?!”

“Y-yeah. Is that bad?”

She looked at you blankly, not saying a thing before she leaned in closer to whisper. “Was the house nice?”

You pursed your lips to prevent yourself from laughing because of her unexpected question.

“Well?”

You looked up and thought. “Hm, nothing ordinary. It was like a modern palace. Just a little richer than mine.”

She fell on her back and sighed a relaxing puff. Seriously, she’s getting too comfortable. “Lucky you, Y/N. To think a student would visit the nasty student president’s luxurious manor.” she shook her head in an accepting manner, “That doesn’t happen as much- or never, so to say.”

You fell on your back as well, still not over the fact that you volunteered to stay at the Yoon Manor for such petty reasons, one of them being an argument over a lollipop. All the more, Sejeong didn’t know about your real reason of being there, since Jeonghan said it was ‘deeply confidential’.

But a lollipop argument? Very confidential.

“Anyway, we should have lunch. The cafeterias are selling new desserts, wanna come with?”

The tired you complained for a while. You weren’t hungry, however the thought of dessert could help boost you awake for the day. “What do they have?” you stood up, reaching for your wallet. Sejeong rolled her eyes playfully, saying that you would have to find out when you get there.

-------

Jeonghan sat in the limousine, arms and legs crossed. His mood was worse than it already was this morning. He thought he could have his breakfast in bed normally like he used to, but it didn’t go that way when he heard you left for the university. Not only that, he recalled the sudden conversation he had with Mr. Ryu.

“But young master, there is one problem.”

“What is it now?” Jeonghan retorted as Mr. Ryu had an uncertain look on his face. “Well?”

“A person’s looking for you.” he pulled his tight collar in adjustment. “Someone you might know.”

Jeonghan’s ears perked, turning to Mr. Ryu in interest. “Name?”

“Mr. Jang Doyoon, the heir of the Jet Electronics International.”

“What about him?”

“He’s at the university.”

“Young Master, is there a problem?” Mr. Gok looked from the mirror. Jeonghan whipped his head at Mr. Gok’s direction in disbelief.

“What kind of question is that? Of course there’s a problem. You guys ruined my breakfast in bed!”

“Not that young master, I mean-”

“If it’s about me and Jang Doyoon, why do you ask when you already know?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes as he ate his sandwich.

“But young master, if your father hears about this, you’d be in huge trouble. Also please do protect your image, you are aware that you’re the heir to the YDH-tech in a few years.” Mr. Gok reasoned out.

“Like heck I care, father should’ve thrown me out years ago.”

Mr. Gok sighed, hearing the usual ignorant Jeonghan. “Master Yoon could never do that young master, you are his only child.”

Jeonghan scoffed and clicked his tongue, looking out at the window to see Seungcheon University few kilometers away. He rested his jaw on his palm, sighing,

“Yeah. Since Jeonghye died.”

-------

“Oh my goodness.” you licked your fork eating the chocolate flavoured mini entremet topped with a strawberry. “This is so delicious.”

“Right?” she took a bite of the same entremet. “Mingyu made this. The school chefs immediately put this on the dessert menu.”

“I don’t doubt it even just for a second. He’d be a world class chef before we know it.” you melted through the deliciousness. “Speaking of seconds-” you stood up, leaving to get more.

Sejeong laughed at your quick pace as she finishes her own.

Making your way to the dessert area, you spotted one more slice of Mingyu’s chocolate cake. You placed your tray down and reached for it until an arm made contact with yours.

“Oh were you supposed to get that?” a voice asked.

You looked at the owner’s voice. He was visually handsome at first glance, but even more so up close. He was tall and quite muscly, although lesser than Seungcheol. His aura was similar as Jeonghan’s, yet there was this spirit in this young man you couldn’t distinguish. You found yourself staring at him, so you quickly shook your head.

“Yes I was. It’s alright though, you can have it. I already had one.” you offered.

He looked at you with a flushed face, you weren’t offering him the last piece of cake were you? He was supposed to do that role, being a young gentleman. “You take it. I already had three.” he smiled with flashing teeth, and if your eyes were seeing correctly, there even was a twinkle.

You smiled awkwardly and took the last piece of cake. “Thank you.”

He stared at you for some time without realising, “Hm? Oh.” he coughed, “You’re welcome.” still smiling with his pearly whites. 

He seemed cocky?

“I, I have to go back to my seat now, please excuse me.”

The young man eyed you as you went back to where you and Sejeong were sitting at, the corners of his lips tugged into a smile at how gorgeous you were. He didn’t know how long he was smiling until another young man, pulled him out of his thoughts with a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Doyoon-ah, who’s that chick?” he smirked, his eyes similar to a cat’s.

“Get a grip MingMing.” he slapped his hand. “Her name’s Y/Fl/N. Checked the new transfers list. Seems like a new face around here.”

“A very new face.” Yao MingMing said cunningly, taking an interest in you as well.  

Doyoon pulled MingMing by the ear. “Back off man, I saw her first.” MingMing held his ear in pain. “Get me my phone, I’ll contact my father.”

“But Doyoon, your phone’s in your pant pocket. You could-”

“Exactly. Now phone.” he bossed, MingMing took Doyoon’s phone from his pant pocket like a puppy would obey his owner.

Doyoon called his father as MingMing stood fiddling his fingers. He snacked on the fries that were on his tray. For all MingMing knew, Doyoon probably already had a plan glued to his brain. “So what so you plan on doing, bro?”

“Simple.” he put his phone back in his pocket and took a last glimpse at you before leaving the cafeteria with an assuring smile,

“I’ll make her my wife.”

-------

The limousine arrived at the Key and Jeonghan got off as soon as Mr. Gok opened the door for him. Now to get his facts straight, Jeonghan knew that the tension between him and Jang Doyoon were ugly. Everyone in school resented him, since the history between him and Doyoon were heard of by all students.

Combing his long blonde hair back with his hand, earned him squeals from university girls- his ‘fans’, that led Jeonghan to walk a little bit faster than he did.

“Good afternoon! President Jeonghan!” their voices behind him. He looked back and nodded a blank face to shut them up.

“Did you see that?” “He nodded!” “O-m-g he acknowledged us!” “Such a gentleman!”

Or maybe not.

Wonwoo, who happened to be reading a book along the corridors with Mingyu and Jun by his side, quirked an eyebrow. “That’s something new. President Jeonghan coming to university on a Friday. He must have heard of Doyoon.”

“There’ll be a mafia at the Hall of Grandeur for sure at free period.” Jun added, shaking his head. “It’ll be a one man versus another with a myriad of Doyoon’s backup.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Seungcheol-hyung about this?” Mingyu asked.

“He wouldn’t care one bit.” Wonwoo answered, eyes still on his book.

“He should though. I mean wasn’t he friends with Doyoon?” Mingyu tiptoed to see if Doyoon was around.

“Drama’s out years ago. It’ll be ugly to bring it up again.” Wonwoo sighed.

“Crazy how the guys get the dramas.” Jun tugged his blazer. “Weren’t the ladies supposed to have dramas? Or things are just different here in Korea?”

The intercoms installed around the university screeched for a good ten seconds before a distant voice behind it said:

“Is it on?”

It was Doyoon’s voice.

“Good day to all students. Ex-student council president Jang Doyoon speaking. Miss me?” he chuckled. “Don’t mind me using the intercom, I’m just calling out for a seat snatcher named Jeonghan… Oh I mean, President Yoon Jeonghan. I believe he loves being addressed that way, given of his prideful attitude…”

You looked at Sejeong with a confused look, who returned with a quirked eyebrow.

“Hey Jeonghan. Free period’s in three. See you at the Hall of Grandeur. We have some unfinished business to take care of. Doyoon out.”

“What’s going on?” you queried, clearly not understanding what was going on.

“I heard this from Seungkwan. It appears that the ex-student council president back to have his revenge on President Jeonghan.” Sejeong pondered.

“Seungkwan really knows what’s up, doesn’t he?”

“I really wanna check it out though.” Sejeong said with interest. “Come on, it’ll be cool!”

“Count me out on this one.” you raised your hands, about to leave.

“Hey Y/N! Wanna check president vs. ex-president?” Seungkwan came running to you, followed by Jihoon and Chan.

“Okay. I guess we are checking it out.”

-------

The Hall of Grandeur quickly filled up with students since it was midterm break-all professors went home and students were meant to stay in their dorms to study. Seungcheon University was indeed a tough school. This gathering doesn’t happen often, but given with the ‘right’ timing, Jang Doyoon definitely knew how he would play his board game.

Everyone knew that Jeonghan wasn’t put for as a student council president, which explained their overfilled joy when Doyoon arrived few days ago. You, on the other hand, didn’t know who this Jang Doyoon looked like. He slowly appeared to the center of the Hall and you were surprised to see who he was- the cocky young man from the cafeteria. 

“So it’s that guy..” you mumbled. Seungkwan looked at you, asking if you had said something. You shook your head in denial, avoiding to be caught.

“Ah. I missed the scent of my beloved Hall of Grandeur. But I missed the students here the most.” Doyoon proudly announced, following the cheers of the students. “President Yoon Jeonghan! Or should you even be deserved to be called that?” he clicked his tongue. “Come out and fight!”

Not even a second later, the Hall’s doors were slammed opened. Students suddenly quieted down. All eyes were on Jeonghan, who entered alone and had a face that was serious, most of it you couldn’t read. He probably knew where this was leading to. He was the smartest in school. 

“Do I have to be here personally so that you can fight me? You’ve been hiding in your cage for a very long time, Jeonghan.” Doyoon’s voice changed to a heavy tone, noting that he was serious.

“As matter of fact, you’re late.” Jeonghan said as he was looking at his watch.

“Do you even know how much the students fear you since you’re president?!” Doyoon shouted in anger. 

Jeonghan played with his nails. “I thought you came here to fight me, not give me a pep talk.” 

“Be prepared.” Doyoon smirked. “Boys, unleash the beast in him!”

Behind Doyoon, there were eight other boys, some of them holding nunchucks and poles, ready to fight. As if it were staged, students around the them began chanting ‘fight, fight, fight’. Jeonghan on the contrary, didn’t look fazed or shaken. His hands in his pockets gave the impression that he didn’t care. 

“Charge!” A young man shouted as he made his first move. 

Students shouted and were much engaged with the duel. You looked to your left, Seungkwan and the others were entertained, especially Hansol. On your right, Sejeong, too, was having the time of her life. The chanting begin to fade and as you looked back at the chaotic fight, Jeonghan was standing unharmed and three of Doyoon’s guys were on the floor. One of them bleeding due to popped lips and the other two broke their arms.

“Did I tell you there wasn’t any need to bring your guys?” Jeonghan slightly smirked, but he seemed tired and weak. 

“Oh I brought them on purpose, given that you have quite a weak stamina!” Doyoon’s smile was on the edge evil, and that scared you a bit. He just sugarcoated himself when he talked to you.

“ ‘Quite’ is an understatement.” Jeonghan gestured a move, challenging Doyoon’s other mates.

The fight continued and the students rooted for Doyoon and his chums. You stood there confused and didn’t want to side on anyone. 

Jeonghan, you thought, was flawless when he fought with them. You even heard Soonyoung admitting that Jeonghan didn’t actually sugarcoat his martial art skills. Though that didn’t last when Doyoon himself stepped in, punching Jeonghan vigourously until he was bruised and bled on the face. He landed roughly on the floor close to the people in front of you. They backed up, revealing you slightly when Doyoon saw you.

He raised his hand to cease the fighting, which gave Jeonghan a resting before the cat-eyed young could hit Jeonghan with a metal pole. 

“Seriously Doyoon?! I was getting to the best part!” he shouted.

“No. This is the best part.” he approached you and grabbed you by the arm. 

You tried to escape his sudden grasp on you but obviously, he was stronger. “Hey. Miss Y/N.” he put his arms around you. “I think I might be interested in you.”

As he said that, students gasped and the corner of your eye caught sight of three girls, who reacted much more. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow when he circled around you. He sounded much different than he did earlier, much arrogant.

“I mean, look at you, Y/N! You’re super smart and kind, a good family background. We make a good match too.” he looked at you proudly from head to toe, then to your face, “.. not to mention you’re very, very beautiful.”

Jeonghan slowly stood on his knees but he was too weak to do so. Doyoon held your chin, his face close to yours, “Actually. I’ll make you my wif-.”

Doyoon fell on the floor, knocked out. Jeonghan already beat up Doyoon’s other friends and glared at the other students. With that glare, the rest of the students left, including Sejeong and the others. 

You mouth gaped open, couldn’t believe that your friends left you alone with Jeonghan. You eyes trailed at Doyoon’s figure on the floor.

“Don’t worry, he’s unconsious.” Jeonghan said, reaching for his phone. “Mr. Gok, I’m at the Hall of Grandeur. Pick me up, will you?”

“I wasn’t worrying. I guess I’ll go back to East Wing.” you offered. 

“What the heck, you’re not. You’re staying at my place, remember?” he grabbed your arm and left the Hall.

-------

The moment you and Jeonghan caught sight of Mr. Gok, he ran to Jeonghan in concern. He could run after all. “Young Master Jeonghan! What in heavens did you do?! You’re bleeding all over! Didn’t I tell you to protect your image?!” he wiped his sweating face with a handkerchief, “Oh my heavens! I think I’m going to faint!”

“Ask her!” Jeonghan shouted at him, pointing at you.

You didn’t know why, something about it irked you, definitely. “Me?! Why drag me into this?” you followed Jeonghan, irritated.

“Well obviously! If you hadn’t leave my house for some papers this morning I wouldn’t have come here!” he rolled his eyes.

“And you still came anyway!” 

“I had an important call! And there you were flirting with Jang Doyoon!”

“I was not flirting with Jang Doyoon!”

“Well then good!”

Silence filled the vehicle and you were so frustrated at Jeonghan. He blamed you for him getting injured when it was crystal clear that he put himself into this mess. He could be so annoying that you wished you could slap his face all you want. 

The ride back to the Yoon Manor took another three hours. You thought you could rest well after that high pitched quarrel with Jeonghan, but no, you couldn’t. You had to endure with his groaning that his body was hurting, he couldn’t move and even to the extent of saying that he was ‘dying’.

For three straight hours.

The moment you arrived at the Yoon Manor, it was five in the afternoon. Mr. Gok managed to have passed the speeding limit without being caught. Mrs. Bu came running with Mr. Ryu, same expression as Mr. Gok when their eyes saw Jeonghan.

“Young master dear! What on earth has happened to you?” Mrs. Bu exclaimed. 

“Don’t care. Get the first aid kit ready.” Jeonghan left and went into his bedroom.

You walked inside and Mrs. Bu held your hand. “Miss Y/N dear, I have to cook dinner since Mr. Song is out of town. Would you mind if you attend to treat young master’s wounds?”

“Oh. I apologize Mrs. Bu. I don’t think Jeonghan would like that.” you chuckled tiredly, “We kind of had a quarrel on the way here. Maybe Mr. Ryu and Mr. Gok could do it in your stead?”

Mrs. Bu raised an eyebrow at you, yet she was giggling. “Oh nonsense!” she handed you a first aid kit. “Here, go to young master’s bedroom and treat his wounds.”

“But I-”

“No buts! Or no dinner!” 

“I-” before you could interrupt any further, Mrs. Bu jogged to the kitchen. Knowing Mrs. Bu just for a few days, she didn’t want to barge in Jeonghan’s furious state because she was scared, though you wished she saw that you didn’t like it the most.

-------

You hesitantly stood in front of Jeonghan’s bedroom door. You didn’t want to do this but Mrs. Bu made it sound like her life depended on it. Biting your lower lip, you knocked on the door. No answer. 

“Oh well he’s asleep.” you told yourself and began to swift your foot away. You stopped when Mr. Ryu stood nearby with his arms crossed, clearly you weren’t off the hook. You sighed heavily and knocked on the door louder. 

“President Jeonghan. It’s Y/N. I’m here to treat your wounds.” 

There wasn’t any answer. You opened the door, it was unlocked and the light from outside gave the room a light dimming. Jeonghan’s room was shockingly tidy. He was sound asleep, but his face and body still swell and bled. You approached closer and knelt by his bedside. “President Jeonghan?”

Still not responding, you placed your finger on his neck to look for his heartbeat. Good, he’s still alive, you thought. You soaked the towel in alcohol and water and dabbed it on his infected areas. You pushed his bangs aside, his sleeping face was as angelic even though how bruised Doyoon and his gang made him. 

The room was quiet so you sang softly to lighten the atmosphere a bit. Every move you made to clean his wounds didn’t startle or woke him up, and just like an infant, he was still sound asleep. It was like his body was made out of iron, no ouches heard or twitches made by him.

By the time you finished, you stood up quietly but stopped when you felt his hand grabbed yours. “Mom…”

You flicked your head towards him and questioned yourself if you were hearing right. He said ‘mom’.. 

Speaking of which, you’ve never heard Mr. Ryu or the others mentioning about Jeonghan’s mother. But set those aside, 

Jeonghan actually mumbles in his sleep? 

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from smiling. “I am so going to record this.” you took your phone out and began recording. Jeonghan mumbles a lot in his sleep. 

“Mom.. Please.. don’t leave.. me..”

You stopped recording and saw how sad he looked. What actually happened to his mom? You took your free hand and took his hand off. And when you did, he somehow, consciously or unconsciously, pulled you to him and embraced you. “Oh no.”

“Did you really think I was sleeping?”

Your eyes widened. He was awake this whole time? You shimmied out of his embrace. “Well I- how did you know I recorded you? You were asleep.”

“I heard the ‘record’ button when you finished. Delete that video.” he ordered, still laying on his bed.

Recalling on what he did to blame you this afternoon, you plucked up your courage, “No. I won’t.” 

He slowly sat up and raised his eyebrow. “No?”

“Yeah. I will not delete this.” you shook your phone, “It is for keeps. Proof that you do mumble in your sleep.”

“How dare you! I never mumble in my sleep! I ask you to delete that video, you punk!” 

Somehow this amused you, for once you finally knew how to humiliate him. “This video tells me otherwise.” you laughed and teased him as you played the video.

Jeonghan fell off the bed and was nearly shouting, “That’s not me! I must be possessed! Delete that!”

“Unless you admit that I did not cause your injuries but you yourself!” you challenged.

“What?” he scoffed. “There’s no way I’ll do that!” You increased the volume louder. “Okay okay! I admit that I was the cause of my own injuries and not you.”

“Thank you.” you stopped the video and he calmed down. 

Jeonghan sat on his bed. “So, what did I say during my sleep?” 

You looked at him, tapping your feet onto the carpet and sat on it, “You said something about your mom. Like ‘Mom.. please don’t leave me.’” you paused after seeing his blank expression.

“So I talked about my mom, huh?” 

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing you’re interested? In knowing what happened to my mom?” he faked a chuckle. 

“Kind of. I’m also wondering why you let me sleep in the pink bedroom.”

“I don’t like talking about personal stuff, but since you are staying here for a while. I guess there’s no harm.”

You slightly chuckled, “Someone’s finally opening up.”

“Shut up, we’re having a moment here.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan stood up and walked to a drawer, he took out a box and sat down beside you. In it was a photo album, one of them was a family photo of four. 

“That’s me when my sister was born. I was four at the time. She got sick as an infant because she got scarlet fever. I thought the disease was in the distant past but it turned out it wasn’t. She passed when I was seven so one could say I was depressed.” 

The next page was a photo of him and his mom, playing in the gardens. He sighed before speaking. “My mother… was a strong woman, very kind and she would make cakes on my birthdays, but she had cancer when I was middle school. And she passed during one summer.”

Jeonghan stopped midway, hearing you sniff. He made a face at you and shook his head. “Why are you crying? It’s in the past now.”

You chuckled softly. “Sorry.” 

“When mother passed, my father was not himself. His heart shattered into pieces. He increased workload to the YDH-tech and pushed me to study hard and I already was. He would beat me up when I don’t score a hundred in every exam I had.”

You nodded, “But there’s a rumour going around school saying that your dad’s a kind man.”

Jeonghan faked a laugh. “He was.” he put the photo album down. “When Jeonghye was born, I was so happy. I remember carrying her, but she and mother passed so my father wasn’t at his right state of mind. Until one night, he told me that he was going to remarry. I was against it. So I rebelled during high school. He got fed up and left, and moved to the another mansion up north.”

“And you still scored top grades.” you said, hugging your legs.

“And I still scored top grades.” he repeated. He turned to you, mirroring your position. “How about you? I heard your mother’s a great author.”

“She was.”

“Was?”

“I’m like you. My mother passed too, but she died when I was born.”

Jeonghan’s face softened. “I’m sorry.” Hearing this broke you into laughter. “Why are you laughing?”

“President Jeonghan, you’re saying ‘sorry’? That’s a first.”

He pursed his lips and blushed slightly. “What? I know my manners!”

“Okay.” you raised your hands.

There was silence between you two until a knock came at the door. “Young master! Miss Y/N! Dinner is served!” Mrs. Bu called out. “We have fried chicken!”

“Oh dinner’s ready. We should go, President Jeonghan.” you stood up, dusting your pants. “Or else I’ll-”

“Jeonghan.” he smiled. “Just call me Jeonghan.”

You blushed. Yoon Jeonghan, the arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and all negative adjectives you could think of to describe him, just smiled at you. You left the room in a hurry before he sees you in that flustered state. Jeonghan followed you to the dining room with a smile. Mrs. Bu, Mr. Ryu, and Mr. Gok appeared outside of his room. 

“Am I seeing correctly? Young master is smiling.” Mr. Gok said with a surprised look. 

“Indeed he is!” Mrs. Bu added.

“She is the one.” Mr. Ryu crossed his arms.

“The one?” Mr. Gok and Mrs. Bu asked at the same time. 

“I have been trying to explain it to you two!” Mr. Ryu said happily, “She’s the one who will show young master to love again.”

“Oh! I remember young master was distant and hated girls since young miss Jeonghye passed so Mrs. Yoon told him to love again at a right time!” Mrs. Bu jumped in joy. 

You went down the staircase, recalling Jeonghan’s smiling face. It suited him so much and indeed you were flustered. It’s just a dream, you told yourself as Jeonghan entered the dining room. 

Just a dream.

[swipestream]

An Excerpt from QUANTUM MORTIS: A MAN DISRUPTED

The independent planet of Rhysalan provides Sanctuary to 1,462 governments-in-exile. It is the responsibility of the Xenocriminology and Alien Relations department of the Military Crimes Investigation Division to keep a firm leash on the hundreds of thousands of xenos residing on-planet. Assassinations, revolutions, civil wars, and attempted planetary genocides are all in a day’s work for Chief Warrant Officer Graven Tower, MCID-XAR.

In addition to a missile-armed aerovar, his trusty Sphinx CPB-18, and MCID’s extremely liberal policies concerning collateral damage and civilian casualties, Chief Tower is assisted by his extreme xenophobia as well as a military-grade augmented machine intelligence that believes it has found God. So when the disintegrated remnants of the heir apparent of an alien royal house are discovered on the streets of Trans Paradis, the question is not so much whether the killers will eventually be found, but if it is the criminals or the crime investigators who will contribute more to the final body count.

QUANTUM MORTIS is the action-packed Mil-SF mystery series from Vox Day, author of the epic fantasy series Arts of Dark and Light. Written with Steve Rzasa, QUANTUM MORTIS: A Man Disrupted is the first novel in the series featuring Graven Tower, MCID.

*     *     *      *      *

Murder is the unlawful killing of a sentient corporeal being rated higher than 9 on the Takeno-Turing scale, with malice aforethought. Every murder perpetrated by radiation, genetic manipulation, or any other kind of willful, deliberate, malicious, and premeditated killing; or committed in the perpetration of, or attempt to perpetrate, any revolution, assassination, murder, kidnapping, treason, espionage, sabotage; or perpetrated as part of a pattern or practice of assault or torture, is murder in the first degree and is strictly prohibited without the written consent of an appropriate authority. Any other murder is murder in the second degree. —09 RCJ § 1111: Murder

“Chief Tower? Chief Graven Tower? Is that you?”

He could hear the incredulity in the detector’s voice as she addressed him and grinned to himself as he stood up from where he’d been attempting to examine some of the possible sight lines that Baby was displaying for him.

“None other.” He pretended not to know who it was. “Wait, I know that voice. Hildy, is that you?”

“None other. Now get your grubby mitts off my murder scene! I’m right over you.”

Tower craned his head upward. Sure enough, a black-and-white TPPD aerovar was descending slowly with its nose pointing north, having come from the opposite direction. “You got your zoom on if you can see my hands from up there.”

“Your augment sent me the uplink through Victor when I asked why there was a soldier boy crashing the scene.”

“So the kids are playing well together? Isn’t that nice. Get on down here and join the party. I think you’re going to like this one.”

“Not a jumper?”

“Not a jumper,” he confirmed. “Definitely not a jumper.”

“Well, where is the body? I don’t see a body. You didn’t do anything with my body, did you, Chief?”

Tower shook his head, and with some difficulty, managed to stifle the first three responses that sprang into his mind. Was she flirting with him? He was tempted to respond in kind, and he knew how unlikely it was that anyone downtown or at base was listening in, but regardless, they were being recorded and it was only two months since the last base-wide series of sexual harassment lectures.

He shuddered involuntarily. No woman, not even the lovely Detector Hildreth, was worth the interminable weeks of re-education that would follow an on-duty comment deemed improper by Bio Resources. The suspicious bureaucrats of BR were always on the alert, they liked nothing better than to get their hands on an officer, and they could always be relied upon to put the worst possible interpretation on even the most innocent remark.

“Not guilty, Detector.” He cursed himself for his cowardice and glanced into a window that was just clean enough to let him see his reflection. Thanks to the tac-jacket, he looked dangerous, maybe even dashing. Digging into his pocket, he found a breath-enhancement pill and popped it into his mouth. “Tower out.”

The signal clicked off. Tower swore it was an actual sound, but the techs told him he was over-imaginative. A moment later, the whine of the grav-plates on Detector Hildreth’s aerovar increased in pitch as she, or more likely, her augment parked it on the street, nose to nose with Tower’s own vehicle. Lacking the armor, the anti-personnel rockets, the Meteor air-to-air missiles, the 15mm gun ports under the stub-wing slots on either side, and the pair of Degroet Tactical M165-20 cannons in the nose, her black-and-white vehicle looked sleek and stylishly feminine in comparison with his more heavily armed, dark-grey machine.

“Well, Chief Tower, it seems we meet again. What brings MCID to this humble civilian crime scene?” Derin Hildreth, Hildy to her friends, colleagues, and one-time professional role-play team members, was a little shorter than Tower. She was pretty, slender, and athletic, and wore a thicker, sleeveless version of his tactical jacket. A standard department GHK slug-thrower rested in a brown leather holster that was slung low over her grey pants, and a yellow-triggered shocker that looked like a toy was attached to her belt on her right hip. Underneath the tactical vest she was wearing a white collared shirt. She had a small black satchel slung over one shoulder, and was using both hands to twist her medium-length blond hair back into a looped ponytail as she walked toward him.

“Would you believe an inter-subsector war looms on the horizon and solving this crime may help us stop it and save tens of millions of lives?”

“Not even a little bit,” she said with a grin. Then the amusement vanished from her face as she stared at the dark smear on the ground. “Oh, no. That’s from a military grade disintegrator. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it! Don’t tell me you guys have something that can pick up the discharge!”

Wow, she was quick. She was wrong, but she was quick.

“If we did, you know I can’t tell you.” Tower spread his hands. “And, just so you know, we usually refer to them as disruptors.”

She narrowed her eyes, which he couldn’t help notice were an attractively bright shade of green and glanced at his armored var. “Do you have it in there? Chief, if you have evidence that would help me ID the weapon, I would truly appreciate it. I really would.”

“She’s just shameless, isn’t she?” Baby practically hissed as Hildy patted his arm and started to slide past him. “What are you doing, Tower? Change the subject!”

She was right. He had to distract the detector and fast. Hildy was already making her way toward the driver-side door and he couldn’t remember if he’d locked it or not. Then she froze and cocked her head to one side. She was listening to her augment, he realized. Then she turned around to face him.

“Victor says there is a ninety-seven percent possibility that the vic was killed by a disintegrator given the chemical composition of the latent energy particles. Or rather, a disruptor, I should say.”

Tower tried to nod in a knowing manner, hoping that Hildy wouldn’t press him further about his nonexistent device.

Did you do that? he subvocalized, knowing that Baby could hear him.

“Yeah, I cycled it through the TPPD comm-int; her Victor has no idea where it came from. Those civilian intelligences are cretins.” That’s my girl.

He glanced up and realized that Hildy had her hands on her hips and was asking him something.

“Did I smell anything when we got here? No, I didn’t, but I’ve seen that sort of thing before.” He indicated the crude body-shaped smear. “The Keleboshi had a few vehicle-mounted disruptors. They burned through too much energy to be relied upon in a firefight, and their power sources were too big to carry around without a gravsuit, but for a one-shot kill, a micro-disruptor is hard to beat if you can get close enough to your target.”

“You’re a combat vet?” She looked up at him with a speculative look on her face.

“I saw a bit of drama here and there. Among other things, I was with the security detail on Basattria.”

“Wow,” she said. Eleven years later, even civilians still remembered what went down at the consulate on that godforsaken planet. “Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time! I didn’t know there were any survivors.”

“A few of us got out. Not enough.” He shrugged and firmly kept his thoughts away from the one individual in particular who hadn’t. “The point is, we know what the weapon was, probably, but we don’t know why or even who, yet. And Baby tells me that based on what the witness says he didn’t see, the killer may have been cloaked.”

“Cloaked? That doesn’t sound like a run-of-the-mill mugger. Neither does a disruptor.” She took him by surprise when she raised her eyebrows and grinned hopefully. “I thought I heard a ‘we’ in there, Chief Tower. Would MCID be willing to assist on this one instead of taking over the investigation?”

“Oh, for the love of Our Father, Tower, are you really going to hold her hand on this one?” Shut up, Baby. We could be dealing with pros here, maybe even spec-ops. It’s legitimate, you know TPPD isn’t equipped to handle spooks or soldiers. Just make the request.

He shrugged and feigned indifference. “We’ll see about that. Let’s find out who our vic was first.”

An Excerpt from QUANTUM MORTIS: A MAN DISRUPTED published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi