#(I pick music and my brain clings to it until it gets bored and finds something else. so I have that going)

[still-got-no-idea]

questions :3 1- Whens your birthday [dd/mm] [[<-the only reason i remember america has [mm/dd]] is because the teacher gave us a lecture lol]] 2- What time period would you want to live in? You can choose future or past for any length of time 3- Do you have any headcanons ? [utmv or other] 4- What made you want to choose human services? Any specific jobs in mind ? 5- Do you have any music reccomendations [im not sure if i asked this one yet but the more the merrier lol]

1) July 15th (15/7)

2) I… don’t really know. I never really thought about it. Maybe something like the 1980s-1990s, since that would probable be around the time where I’d have to know how to do certain things to make certain parts of technology work, and I honestly really do feel like it would be good to do that so that I just kinda know these things, at least

3) not really lol. I only ever really come up with things like that when I’m writing certain things, but it’s not really something that’s ever come up in my brain in any sort of obvious way

4) I wanna be some type of therapist. That’s… about it, really. It was a job that I kinda wanted, so yeh

5) genuinely the only music I’ve been listening to for the past several months is just Will Wood so I don’t have anything other than just Will Wood in general-

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 3 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: As time passes,Loki and Reader grow closer.

Warnings: None. Cheesy, self-indulgent romance.

Words:

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza​ @queenariesofnarnia​​ @commonintrest​​ @buckylokisimp​ @just-someone-who-likes-to-write​ @lxdyred​ @frostay​ @nina1800​

It was almost 8pm when the display of Loki’s cellphone lightened up, and immediately his heart dropped to his stomach.

Only recently the god had learned how to use this annoying tool, still refusing to take it with him all the time. But since it was easier for you to just text, he’d put up with it.

And truth be spoken, except for Thor sending him those silly ‘Memes’, there wasn’t really anyone eager to talk to him anway - so he knew it had to be you.

Thousand worries were made up by his mind, of you having realized this wasn’t a good idea and canceling your date. Holding his breath, he dared to unlock the screen and read:

“I’m so excited to see you tonight! 💘”

“Don’t raise your hopes” he thought to himself, now busying his mind with every possible way of him fucking things up - and still, your message made him grin from ear to ear.

“As you should be” Loki answered and put down the phone, just to pick itn back up and sending some random emoji’s so it wouldn’t sound so harsh. “💌💚💐😏“

You on the other hand felt as excited as a teenager on their first date, having occupied yourself for hours through trying on different outfits, as well as getting your hair and make-up just right. This was a special occasion, after all!

“I hope he’ll like me...” you thought as you assessed your silhouette in the mirror, debating wether this dress was too revealing or not. In the end, you decided to wrap a silken scarf around your neck - so he won’t have to see the scar.

A knock on your door made you jump a little. Had it already been this late?!

“Miss Y/N?” Loki patiently waited in front of your flat’s door, just for his whole expression to falter when you opened. “You- uh...look ravishing.”

“T-h-a-n-k y-o-u!” You mimicked, trying to give him your most welcoming smile. Oh, how glad you were that he could at least read lips - but then, the most unexpected thing happened.

“You’re welcome” he signed, a little sloppy and unsure how to precizely use his hands, but still good enough for you to understand.

“When did you-” Loki answered before you were even done signing the whole sentence, and you were completely and utterly baffled at his skill. “Started a week ago. Needs some improvement, but I get the basics.”

Basics?! Since when was the God of Mischief so humble? Especially if he really only self-teached this at such an incredible speed, that was amazing!

Loki’s trademark grin spread over his cheeks, pretty satisfied with himself as he saw how your eyes were shining in excitement. “No big deal. Shall we?”

Much to your further surprise, the god even offered you his arm to cling on, before the two of you made your leave.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he appeared in that suit, his locks tamed behind his ears and golden accessory complimenting his look. The whole way to wherever he’d lead you was coated in pleasant silence, with both of you exchanging small smiles and joyful glances.

“There we are!” Loki declared proudly, as if you were not still in the Stark Tower - well, he isn’t allowed to leave, so we’d better make the best of it.

The compound was gigantic, having almost everything one could think about. To be honest, you had expected a restaurant, maybe a movie night or something classy - well, on the other hand you don’t know they do it on Asgard.

But this?!

You’ve never been at this part of the tower before, unaware there were such beautiful places in this rather boring, high-tech environment.

“I come here often” he signed and you nodded approvingly, “It eases the feeling of being imprisoned.”

Yes, one could truly forget that you were still inside of the tower while standing in that great botanical garden at the top floor, ceiling made completely out of glass and revealing the starry night sky.

"B-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l” your mouth formed silently, just as you felt a hand on your hip. Loki embraced you from behind, his lips gracing your ear as he whispered “Just like you.”

“P-Pardon” he cut himself off, his grip loosening much to your frustration. “I didn’t know what came over me.”

Yet you only clasped his hand, signalizing him it was alright. “Well then...let me lead you to the table.”

In midst of this beautiful garden was a festively decorated table for two, with Loki holding one chair out for you to sit down. It seemed like he had thought of everything, making you wonder just how long he had prepared for this evening to go well.

As a prince, he was not really used to cooking, so he had gotten something in advance, together with some fine wines. “Not to compare with Asgardian quality” he joked, insisting you’d only deserve the best, “But it will do.”

Loki Odinson was the perfect gentleman, and every second of this date you became more aware of how unbelievably you had already fallen for him from the very start.

The two of you would exchange tales about your respective homelands, impactful events on your life as well as your dreams and ambitions. Even without a single spoken word, this conversation was deep and so natural, you could’ve kept on forever.

He would be happy to show you some little magic tricks, such as making blossoms float or lights appear everywhere. May you want it or not, the prince showered you in small gifts such as a selection of his most favourite reads he thought you might like, or a bracelet resembling two snakes intertwined with each other.

Oh, how both of you wished time would stop, letting you revel in this evening just a bit longer...

Having forgotten about time completely, you only realized how much time had passed when the sun was already rising at the horizon.

“Oh my” Loki chuckled shyly, almost feeling guilty for you were probably exhausted. “Let me consort you to your rooms, my fair lady.”

Trying his best to ignore all the spiteful looks Tony’s coworkers gave him as they crossed your way in the hallways, the god wished he would’ve just teleported you back.

“I need to thank you, my love.” The nickname escaped his lips quicker than his mind could catch up on. “Umm, I mean, I really enjoyed myself today. Hopefully you did too.”

You bit your lip, trying to play down your nervousness from expecting him to make a move - yet there was no kiss. Not even a hug, or anything to bid you goodbye.

“Sleep well-” Loki blinked heavily as you clutched on his arm, fingernails digging into the fabric of his suit. “What’s wrong, little dove?”

He squinted his eyes together, racking his brain as hard as he could to decipher your ASL, hopefully not misunderstanding something.

“Do you want to come inside?”

"I-I-I...” Hel, that caught him off guard. But you only gave him a sleepy smile, expression as welcoming as always. “That’s considered bad manners, I mean-”

“Not that!” You huffed quite amused at him becoming all flustered. “I thought you may want to sleep here? Just sleep, nothing more.”

“Of cou- I mean, if you insist” he desperately tried to preserve the last piece of dignity left inside of him, trying to downplay just how needy he was for your affection. "If you insist.”

Sheepishly entering your wide, one-room flat, Loki walked close behind you as his glare immediately went to the sofa on your right - yet you confidently shook your head, pointing towards the king-sized bed.

“This is new to me.” You judgingly rose your eyebrow at his statement, knowing the stories about how he and his brothers were heartbreakers back on Awsgard very well. “Not like that, I mean...ah, forget it.”

Much to your displeasure, the prince would rest far away from you, lying stiffly on his back.

Thinking back about your relationship up until now, you didn’t feel like sleeping in the same bed would cross any line:

It all started very subtle and slowly, but not unnoticed by you and the others - how over time, the God of Mischief was craving your touch. Like his hand ‘accidentally’ brushing against yours, just barely noticeable. Or how he almost naturally cuddled under the blanket with you whenever you were sitting on the same sofa.

The more time passed, the more confident Loki became in his approaches, always wary of your reaction - which would be delighted every single time.

Hugs had already become a firm ritual whenever one of you two traumazized messes were in need of affirmation.

Even some innocent kisses anywhere but your lips were a permanent feature or your togetherness by now, and both of you cherished every second of it.

So you’d plainly crawl over to his side of the bed, pressing yourself against his back.

“I tend to experience nightmares...” Loki whispered, only to be answered with your grip around him depending. "Maybe I should leave."

You snug your head hard against his back, inhaling his scent - for some reason, Loki always smelled like freshly cut grass and old books, not that you'd complain though.

The sound of his heartbeat was like music in your ears, and without giving him a response, it would soon calm you into a sweet slumber.

Tonight, Loki's mind would find peace.

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier dark academia AU of my dreams (because writing these up keeps me sane; TLDR at the bottom because this escalated):

-Jaskier is so ready for college. Like, the readiest he's ever been for anything in his life. He couldn't wait to get out of his stuffy family home, away from his narrow-minded hometown, he is ready. He signs up for a Liberal Arts major, moves into a dorm, drinks his brains away during the first week. He makes an archnemesis, he makes friends, he live-documents the whole affair on Snapchat for his friend Triss who lives across the country, but is always with him in spirit. Life is good.

-Jaskier doesn't think twice when his roommate Zoltan invites him to come along to a party at the Kaer Morhen fraternity house because hello? Orientation week was last month, high time he goes to an actual frat party full of guys like wardrobes that eminate sexual self-assuredness and hopefully some sexual flexibility as well. He puts on his most revealing shirt and too tight jeans and joins Zoltan. The fraternity house is old, red-brick with sandstone pillars and iron-wrought gates which would seem rusty if not for the ivy that curls around them. It's chock-full with people of every kind of major and age, most of them drunk beyond reason by the time Jaskier and Zoltan arrive. Zoltan disappears in a tangle of rugby-players and leaves Jaskier to his own devices. He befriends a group of Archeology majors, their leader being a cute blond called Filavandrel, and they share a bottle of red wine, round and round. He meets his archnemesis, the one he spent all orientation week bickering about music with, Valdo or some nonsense, and they do tequila shots. It’s a nice party and Jaskier has the time of his life until he returns from the bathroom to find a god of a guy standing in the hallway.

-"Oh hello," Jaskier mutters under his breath. Before, his evening was aimless, he let the wave of the vibe take him wherever, let the alcohol blur the world around him. But now, he has an objective. And that objective stands all by his lonesome, scowling down the hallway. Man, does he brood well. Jaskier usually goes for people that are easy to read if some casual fun is what he has in mind -and it's not out of his mind just yet - but this guy intrigues him; there is more to him than simple dudebro-ness. He has shock-grey hair and startling amber eyes and seems to cast the longest shadow. Jaskier wants to ride him. Jaskier also wants to serenade him on a starlit wooden bridge and collect all the guy's deepest secrets and desires to keep under his pillow and draw divine inspiration from. Okay, that may be the Tequila shots talking. He scurries over to the bar, downs another two, then approaches the guy.

-"Hi," Jaskier says as he sidles up to him. The guy half-heartedly raises his beer in greeting.  Taciturn, dark, dramatic. Jaskier decides to go for it. "I absolutely adore the way you just stand here and brood." (Jaskier will only learn much much later that he accidentally used some weird Kaer Morhen frat code and set off a chain of events that changed his life forever). "Lamb," the guy calls out instead of answering, something that makes Jaskier think he's so far gone that he's actively hallucinating. But no, seconds later a guy with equally lush red hair and equally thick arms appears from the crowd. He wears a scowl which has Jaskier's throat tighten. "What is it, Wolf?" Wolf, huh? "Go collect Goat and Kitty-Cat. I found him." And Wolf-Guy grabs Jaskier by the back of the neck and hauls him through a door, down some stairs - is that marble? are those torches? GARGOYLES? - and into pitch blackness. Jaskier squeals. This is what he imagined when he dreamt of college. Well not exactly this, but close enough.

-They bind him with silk scarfs and put a blindfold over his eyes which, okay. Jaskier knows he shouldn't find this as sexy as he does, but he can't help it. He has no sense of self-preservation and this will just be the best of fuel for the first assignment in his screenwriting class. "Oh, this is fun," he murmurs when someone tugs off his boots and someone else smears a fatty paste onto his lips. It smells like... okay it smells lot like his uncle Matthew's pigsty. Weirdly disgusting. "Who are you guys anyway?"

-They don't speak at all that night, don't take off the blind-fold until way later. All night, Jaskier can hear them rustling around him, chanting in some language he doesn't understand. They give him several drinks, most of which honestly taste like asphalt, but make his insides go fuzzy. When the blindfold comes off eventually, Jaskier finds himself on the front-seat of a pick up truck, Wolf guy behind the wheel. They are parked behind the frat house. "Look, I don't think you're a suitable candidate. The guys all said they want to keep you, but my friend recognized you from the freshman introduction party and we usually only inaugurate sophomores." Jaskier blinks. He has absolutely no idea what's going in anymore. His friend Triss is probably worried sick because he hasn't checked in all evening. The faint taste of burned rubber clings to his lips and all Jaskier can think is: Fuck, is this man hot. "Go out with me," he blurts. "Go out with me, I'll show you how suitable I am."

-Over the course of a month's worth of introductions, preparation and inauguration traditions (which, among other things, have him dropped butt-naked in the middle of the forest, requiring him to find his way back to campus; have him spend more time learning long-dead languages than he is comfortbale with; have him getting thoroughly intimate with Eskel's (Goat) helper syndrome, Lambert (Lamb) and Aiden's (Kitty-Cat) ostentatiously loud fucking, Coen's (Hawk) frequent absences and Geralt's (Wolf) quiet, but passionate idealism) Jaskier learns the truth at the core of Kaer Morhen. It is more than a fraternity, it is a brotherhood of students that spend their free time in rituals to protect the college, its city, likely even the whole state from supernatural creatures that threaten to cross over into the world. The existence of these is no surprise to Jaskier who's come out of an adolescence of escapism and coping through fiction and song, but the fact that there are handsome tough guys who work to banish him is too much of a dream to be true. It is true. Unofficially, the call themselves Witchers. They catch wraiths in cricles of runes, they re-direct necrophages into Kaer Morhen's basement and slay them with blades of silver. They brew potions and cast minor spells to get rid of mutated insectoids. And Jaskier is to be one of them. They call him Lark.

-His first ritual goes bat-shit wrong. Jaskier is reasonably sure he did everything right, but the wraith doesn't stay contained after they bound it . "Fuck," Geralt growns after, pressing a cloth to the gaping wound in Jaskier's shoulder while they wait for Eskel to whip out the first aid kit. Jaskier shudders, can taste blood. "There shouldn't be fireflies here, right?" - "Ah, nope," Lambert says. He keeps snapping his fingers before Jaskier's eyes. "Hey, Lark, stay with us, okay?" - "He's fine," Aiden says, inspecting his nails. "If anything, it's Geralt we should be worried about. He's about to have a full blown panic attack." Geralt grunts and holds Jaskier closer.

-"Does this mean I can ask Priscilla to let me copy her homework," Jaskier asks later. He's in bed, bundled up in one of Kaer Morhen's bedrooms. Portraits of alumni line the wall and a hearth crackles away. Geralt sits next to the bed, a pretense-book on his lap. His eyes bore into Jaskier, wide, haunted. "Jask," he breathes out shakily. - "Hello, big guy. How are we doing?" - "Better now that you're awake. We... we had to call in Vesemir. He will want to talk to you." - "Alright, okay," Jaskier says. He knows who Vesemir is of course, but he has no idea what exactly his job entails or what having to talk to him means. "Geralt?" - "Hmm?" - "What did I do wrong?" - "Nothing. You were uncharacteristically precise... but it turns out I was right all along. You're not suited for this kind of work." - "Because I'm not big and buff like all of you?" Jaskier asks, pouting. Geralt has the audacity to laugh. But he also takes Jaskier's hands and kisses his knuckles and huh? What? Jaskier's brain short-circuits. Fuck when did he fall so hard for Geralt? "No, Jask, you're perfect. I mean, uh, ah, perfectly annoying." That bastard. "The wraith went crazy because it turns out you're an amplifier. That means supernatural creatures are pulled to you and can draw from you to manifest easier in our world. You wouldn't have noticed this unless you ever passed by a spot where the spheres overlap significantly. As it is, your participation in the ritual poses a danger." - "TLDR: I'm fired?" - "That's for Vesemir to decide... truth be told, I don't want you to go. But I can't stand the thought of you being in danger. Because of me, this." - "Go out with me, Geralt. Please. One coffee," Jaskier practically begs. Yes, his shoulder is minced meat and he feels exhausted from the blood loss but Geralt has never been this open and honest with him. "...fine."

-Jaskier heals up under the diligent care of his friends. Priscilla is allowed over too, practically drags him though his classes with tutoring and copies of her homework and sugar-coated emails to his various professors. Triss video-calls him three times a day. Eskel's med school expertise leaves Jaskier with the most neat scar he is ever going to get out of this, Lambert and Aiden hang out to play Gwent with him, a strange card game they invented and custom-painted, Coën even pops in to bring Jaskier his guitar and a venti Matcha Tea Latte even though the nearest Starbucks is miles away. Geralt... Geralt is there almost all the way. He sleeps in the chair at first, then - on Jaskier's stern insistence - in the bed with him, though careful to keep his distance. He helps Jaskier into the shower, something so strangely intimate without feeling innately sexual, he takes him out on slow walks. Geralt doesn't talk much, but Jaskier knows he feels responsible. It's fine. Sure. Absolutely fine. Jaskier is so far gone for this man by the time he moves back into his own dorm that he considers getting injured again just to have Geralt by his side. They never do go out for coffee.

-Vesemir doesn't so much invite Jaskier as have him called out of his choir session by a girl about Jaskier's age. She has the same hair color as Geralt and Jaskier thinks he's seen her around Kaer Morhen's bigger parties. "Hello, Jaskier," she says sweetly, but one look at her tells Jaskier she's deadlier than any of the frat boys. If his drunk memory serves correctly she also does a phenomenal keg stand. "Ves sends me to collect you." Which has Jaskier even more impressed with her. None of the boys dare to call him anything but Vesemir or Sir, even when he's not around. - "I've been expecting this," Jaskier says, shouldering his bag. The girl laughs and grabs his arm to guide him out of the building and across campus. - "You are cute," she says. "Geralt said so, but I thought that was just because he's so infatuated with you. I'm Ciri, by the way, his younger sister." Infatuated, huh? Jaskier has just enough brainspace left to save her name. Ciri. They will have to become very good friends. Infatuated.

-It turns out, Vesemir isn't half as scary as the boys made him out to be. He's closer to sixty than fifty, has a stern face, but a kindly voice and the first thing he does after dismissing Ciri with a meaningful glance is offer Jaskier a glass of whiskey. Jaskier sneaks a photograph of the bottle's label when Vesemir stands at the window and glances down at the campus, hands clasped behind his back. Triss will never believe this. It's the sort of alcohol that exists only in myth, at least to college students. "So, Mr. Pankratz. I'm afraid apologies are in order." - "Please, I prefer Jaskier." - "I know," Vesemir says and turns. "I would kindly ask you to delete that picture, my office and its contents fall under the terms of the non-disclosure agreement you signed when entering our brotherhood." Jaskier gulps heavily, the whiskey suddenly sour on his tongue. But he's quick to paste over a smile. He's gotten this far with the mysterious Kaer Morhen fraternity, he can pull all the way through. He deletes the picture. "Good," Vesemir says. "Now down to business." Vesemir gives him two options. Jaskier can consult a local magical artisan and have his memories of Kaer Morhen's true purpose removed. It is an easy procedure, won't cost him anything. Except for his new-found friends and the love he feels for Geralt. Except for the only place he's ever truly felt at home. Jaskier chooses the latter option which is to become the fraternity's chronicler.

-After that, things are supposed to calm down and they do, for a bit. Geralt still dodges any and all attempts Jaskier makes at flirting even though it's evident his resolve is thinning out. Jaskier observes and documents the rituals, begins to collect old notebooks. He's planning to go above and beyond his job and compile a comprehensive history of Kaer Morhen and its members before he's graduated. He may not be able to partake in the rituals or help the guys protect this city from monsters, but he can play his part. Leave behind a legacy.

-Between that and his normal studies, hanging out with his theater group, meeting Triss on alternate weekends and throwing epic frat parties, all of Jaskier's time is consumed. There are several instances in which Geralt and him almost manage to have their coffee, but then they have Eskel on the phone because Lambert and Aiden managed to give themselves poisoning over a simple Endrega job, or Priscilla needs an emergency stand-in for her weekly performances at a local bar, or Jaskier is simply too tired and falls into bed, sleeping over Zoltan's aggressive snoring. Jaskier doesn't mind so much. They catch glimpses of intimacy, Geralt's hand on the small of his back as he guides him downstairs for another ritual, a good night kiss on the cheeks once it's done, a spot of quiet homework-doing in Kaer Morhen's common room together, their legs pressed close under the table. One of these days, Jaskier will find the courage to close the last bridge between them. He just wants to wait until Geralt seems absolutely comfortable with it.

-All is as well as can be until Vesemir comes up with an idea. Because more and more creatures have been getting through and they are unable to hold off all, he wants to capture one of them, an Archgriffin, to bind in their world and act as guardian against lesser creatures. "You're mad," Aiden says. "That's fucking brilliant." - "It's a good idea," Eskel and Coën agree. Lambert keeps exchanging grim glances with Geralt because they both know what this means. They will have to use Jaskier to lure the beast. Which is why they both protest the idea heavily and Geralt gets into a fight with Vesemir. Jaskier is not there for it, but Aiden and Lambert tell him later, once he's back from theatre rehearsal. He watches them fight over it too and then it's only him and Lambert. Jaskier steals one of Zoltan's bottles of spirits and they get stupidly drunk, wandering around campus all night until Eskel collects them and tucks them into bed at Kaer Morhen. "I will not stand to lose you," Lambert slurs, arm dragged over Jaskier's chest. "You're like, almost my best friend. Plus, Wolf would be devastated." - "Aiden seems to think it'll be fine," Jaskier says, snuggling up to Lambert. - "Yeah, fuck him." They fall asleep like that and the first thing Geralt does when he finds them is kick Lambert all the way down the stairs.

-In the end, Geralt and Lambert are outvoted, not that they can stop Vesemir. Geralt is more silent than usual throughout prep and Jaskier can't seem to cheer him up. He knows his life is likely on the line, but he wants to help so badly. These guys are his family after all. If he can make their lives a little easier by doing this... well, he wants to. He needs to. Being in Kaer Morhen is the first time he seems to have a purpose other than writing angsty teenage songs. Eskel keeps checking up on him. Vesemir writes preliminary excuses for all Jaskier's exams which leave him with only A's, something Priscilla does not appreciate in the slightest. Lambert and Aiden fight and fight and won't stop fighting over this whole affair until Jaskier sits them down and makes them talk. Geralt... remains quiet. Jaskier can tell he doesn't sleep. Can tell he rarely eats. He decides now is as good a time as ever.

-It's the night before and the others have all returned to their dorms, but Jaskier stayed in Kaer Morhen under the pretext of Zoltan having his girlfriend over, and Geralt rarely ever goes home. He has a flat off campus, but Jaskier suspects it's drab and lonely. He gets it. Kaer Morhen has soft fluffly beds and fire places and wards and books. Currently, it has the two of them, bundled up in one of the upstairs rooms. They share an armchair before a low fire, not an unusual sight for them, not anymore. And still, Geralt pretends they're just friends. It's ridiculous. "You know I'll be fine, right?" Jaskier says. He has his head tucked under Geralt's chin and has been humming show tunes under his breath for the last half hour, something that usually puts Geralt right to sleep. Not so now. "I can't know that," Geralt replies. He lifts Jaskier's hand which he's been holding and traces the veins on the back of it with his thumb. "You've no idea how dangerous the ritual is. Even more so with you being an amplifier." - "So protect me." - "I will. I promise, I will." - "Geralt, when are you going to finally give in?" Jaskier sighs and pulls back a little. Geralt stares at him, a little cross-eyed and Jaskier gives a shaky laugh. "I'm going to kiss you now. Pull back if you don't want to, but allow it and I'll never let you go." Geralt allows it, kisses back. It's the first night they indulge in a love that has been growing for almost a year and it's gloriously sweet, blazing, beautiful. It leaves Jaskier with faith that, even if things go sideways, Geralt will get them both out of it alive.

-The ritual goes well thanks to the Witchers' meticulous preparations, the dozen or so warding spells they put on Jaskier and Geralt's reflexes that save him from a swipe of the Griffin's claw. They bind the creature to one of the basement holding cells and celebrate with excessive amoutns of vodka and cake. "All is well that ends well, huh?" Jaskier asks from where he sits on Geralt's lap. Strong arms hold him and his chest is full of nightingales that flutter and sing. He watches Eskel drunkenly dance-offing with Coen in a corner, watches Lambert and Aiden make out in another. Vesemir took off, but Ciri is there, lounging next to them on the couch, nose buried in her phone. "I will never put you through such danger again," Geralt grunts, his nose buried in Jaskier's hair. "Of course, love." Jaskier relaxes into the embrace. All is well, though it is not nearly the end of this story.

-TLDR: Kaer Morhen is an occultist fraternity that keeps supernatural beings away from campus. Jaskier, unable to participate in the actual rituals due to a genetic predisposition, becomes their chronicler. Geralt worries a lot. Jaskier tries for the longest time to get him to go on a coffee date or something. Lambert and Aiden are a disaster couple. Eskel keeps them all together, literally and figuratively. Ciri is the one who got all the brain cells.

[ikeromantic]

7+ Sinful Snuggles

Obey Me minis with the 7 brothers plus - approx. 4k words of fluffiness and spice.

I’m Not Asleep

It was supposed to be a cram session, but barely an hour in, Belphie is nestled against your shoulder with his eyes closed. 

“I’m still listening,” he sighs when you poke him. “Just keep reading to me.” He snuggles closer as you continue reviewing the chapter on 11th century Demon Accords - which honestly, is boring enough that your own eyes keep sliding shut. Belphie’s head slips from your shoulder to your chest. He sighs happily. 

Determined to press on, you keep reading. Or you try to. His hands slip under your shirt to draw slow, lazy lines across your skin, working their way down to your hip. 

“B-Belphegor?” 

He doesn’t respond, but his face is set in a blissful smile. You could try to wake him, but why fight it? His touch feels good, so good you lean back into the pillows with your own sigh of happiness.

Snacking in Bed

Beel shows up to your room with popcorn and snacks to watch reruns of Iron Chef with you. You both reach for the choco-crickets at the same time, bumping hands. 

“You can have the last one,” he says, blushing. 

“Ok.” You grin playfully and pick it up, noting the ways his eyes track the candy. It’s too cute and you’d honestly feel bad eating it, so you hold it out, touching his lips. 

Surprised, his mouth opens, taking your fingers and the chocolate. He licks the candy from between your fingers as you pull back. 

You can’t help but shiver a little at the sensation. It was . . . nice. 

“That last one was especially good,” he smiles. 

“Was it?” 

He nods, scooping up your hand. 

“W-what are you doing? I’m not holding anymore candy,” you tell him. 

He presses your fingers to his lips, kissing them from tip to palm. 

“Beel?” 

“Mmmm, you’re sweet,” he tells you, words muffled as his mouth works its way to your wrist and up your inner arm. You think your shirt will give him pause, but he nibbles right past it, up your shoulder, to your neck. His mouth is hot, and the way he suckles and nips your skin makes you feel faint -and pretty warm yourself. 

“I think I understand why demons eat human,” he whispers into your neck. “But don’t worry, I just want to taste.” 

You’d like to reply, but your brain is short circuited by his lips, tongue, and teeth working their way down your chest. In the background, Chairman Kaga takes a bite of his pepper. He looks almost as smugly satisfied as Beel does with your nipple in his mouth.

Too Slick

Asmodeus invites you to his room for a hot oil treatment. He swears it will add softness and shine to your hair. You agree - afterall, his spa treatments are always fun, even if they don’t seem to do much. 

When you get there, he hands you a robe. “You don’t want to get oil on your clothes, right?” He, of course, is already wearing one, seductively half tied to reveal his smooth chest and just a bit of his thigh. 

You slip into the bathroom to change. Asmodeus follows a few minutes later, just enough time for you to get the robe on. As the oil warms, he chats with you about new fashions and compliments your eyes, your skin, and the way you blush when he’s ‘just telling you the truth.’ 

When the oil is warmed, Asmo uses a ladle to trickle it over your hair and scalp. You feel it running down your skin, warm and slick. It’s a nice feeling, relaxing and *maybe* a little arousing. Then Asmodeus starts to massage the oil in. His smooth hands feel so good on your scalp, your neck, your shoulders . . . 

In your haze of happiness, you realize he’s pushed the robe down quite a bit. But you don’t mind it really. He’s still chattering away and the massage is nice. But when his hands slip past your lower back, you sit up straight. “Ok! I think you got my hair and then some!” 

Asmodeus laughs softly. “Still shy? Alright. It’s my turn then.” He takes the ladle and pours some oil over his head. “Ooooh that feels nice!” 

“Yeah, it really does,” you reply. Then you try to stand so he can have the chair while you rub the oil into his hair. Only . . . the floor is slick with drops of oil and you almost fall. 

Asmodeus catches you, but he slides too. You both end up slipping and sliding across the floor, clinging to each other, until Asmo manages to grab the edge of the door. 

You realize then that your robe’s come undone, and Asmodeus’ is hanging open too. Not that either of you can see anything, pressed up close as you are. It’s not about seeing . . . it’s feeling that skin-to-skin contact. 

Asmo realizes it the same moment you do and smiles. He wriggles slightly, rubbing his oiled self against you. “Mmmm, now that is perfect. And good for your skin.” You have to agree, which you do, in a vocal little half moan. 

Bedtime Story

Satan invites you to a hotel grand opening in the southeast demon forest - one of his contacts is hosting a huge party there, with rooms for the guests to try out. It sounds like fun, and you’ve never gotten to see the dark forest, so why not? The trip does not disappoint. 

The forest is exactly what you’d expect to see in a demon’s woods, with flesh eating trees and deadly poisons. Even the squirrels look dangerous. The party is great too. Good music, dancing, and conversation. 

You are pretty sure some of the demons in attendance would see you as an appetizer if Satan wasn’t at your side, hand on your back. He is the perfect companion, making sure you have something good to drink and that you’re enjoying yourself. As it happens, you enjoy yourself a little too much. 

“I didn’t think about how strongly the Spiritus Punch would affect a human. I shouldn’t have let you drink that third glass,” he sighs. 

You giggle. His slight frown is so funny. And attractive. You grab his shoulders and give him a quick, surprise kiss. You meant to get his cheek - but your lips find his. 

Satan freezes for a moment, but your lips don’t mind the happy accident. And he can’t help but react to your warm, hungry kiss. He finally breaks it, his breath almost as heavy as yours. 

“You’ve had too much to drink. Let’s get you to our room and in bed.” 

You smile in a way you hope is seductive. “I’d like to get you in bed.” 

His eyes narrow and you can’t tell if that reaction is good or bad. He puts his arm around you and helps you to the elevator. You lean on him, holding tight as the movement up makes you feel dizzy. Of course your shared room is on the top floor. Penthouse suite with a view. He opens the door. 

Your eyes go to the windows, where outside the forest sparkles with a thousand tiny lights. 

“Oh my . . .” Satan sighs. Your gaze follows his to the center of the room. Where . . . there . . . was only one bed! 

UnConvention

Levi scores two tickets to the TSL Convention, which is, of course, the most popular fan convention in all of Devildom. And he could have invited anybody (or sold the tickets, as Mammon won’t stop going on about), but he invited you. And he even put together a Henry cosplay outfit, just for you. 

Levi is going as The Lord of Shadows, and it is going to be so much fun. The convention takes up two whole city blocks, full of panels from the film actors, several music shows inspired by or featured in TSL, and then aisles and aisles of merch. But before you get started, Levi wants to get some pictures. 

You could take them with your DDD, but there’s a photobooth and the face Leviathan makes when he sees it . . . you can’t say no. 

“I’ve never taken pictures with a f-friend in a photobooth,” he tells you. His cheeks are bright red and his eyes shine. 

The booth bench is really narrow, and the two of you struggle to fit. “I - I think we’ll fit if I sit on your lap,” you tell him. 

The scarlet spreads to his ears and down to his neck. “M-my lap? You want to sit on my lap?!” 

You can’t help the wicked, playful smile his reaction elicits. And you don’t wait for him to say more. With a little wicked wiggle you put yourself right in his lap, turning to wrap an arm around his shoulder. 

“H-hey! That’s not - why are you still moving?” His eyes are so wide. 

You lean close, lips brushing his ear. “You don’t like it? I thought you loved Henry . . .” Not that you’re really asking. You can *cough* feel how much he loves ‘Henry’ from your perch on his lap. 

“Oh!” His eyebrows go up as one of your hands slides down his side. He is too much fun to tease. “This is just like the scene in I Was A High School Succubus Teacher Season Seven! I know what to do!” 

You are about to ask what he’s talking about when he grabs you and pulls you even closer. His lips find yours, and his hands are all over you. Under your costume, grabbing your hair, unbuttoning your Henry outfit . . . 

When the two of you slide out of the booth, breathless, red-cheeked, and disheveled, you are greeted by a cheering crowd of fans with ‘shipper signs and offers to buy your NSFW photos. 

Greedy Bastard

You didn’t have plans this weekend, which is how most of your misadventures with Mammon start. This time, he lost a bet in a private card game. The price was his service for a weekend, but they’ll cut it down to one night if he brings a friend. Which is where you come in. 

You almost tell him no when you see the outfits for this night of hosting. Tiny little hotpants and a top made of black ribbons . . . but then you see the way Mammon looks at you wearing it and, well, it’s worth it just for that. Of course, he’s not the only one that appreciates you in those clothes. 

The demons playing cards keep looking your way hungrily and more than one tries to smack your ass or give you a pinch in passing. You’re too quick for them, but the more often it happens, the more annoyed Mammon gets. 

“They have no business touching what’s not theirs,” he fumes at the bar.

 “They haven’t touched me yet,” you laugh. “Besides, work is up in another hour. I can last that long.” You snag the latest round of drinks, ready to take them out, but Mammon gets between you and the door.

 “Let’s sneak off early,” he suggests. He takes the tray out of your hands and sets it down.

“They’ll notice when they run out of booze,” you point out. 

“Don’t care.” Mammon steps closer to you. You can see the effect you have on him in those ridiculously tiny shorts. “I’m the only one that should get to see you dressed like this.” He brushes a hand down your side, tugging lightly at the ribbons. “The only one that gets to touch you.”

And then his lips are on yours, his body pressing you back against the wall. His skin is hot against the cool satin ribbons that criss-cross your chest. His hands caress you like treasure and his kiss is possessive. There might be an hour left on shift, but this greedy bastard is going to keep you all to himself anyway.

Overtime

Helping Lucifer sort student records is not what one might consider fun. But someone has to do it and you offered to help so here you are. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of folders and loose sheets of paper. 

Lucifer is at his desk, making notations on records, and in the background, the TSL soundtrack plays. 

It’s just past midnight and your vision is getting blurry. Every time you blink, it gets harder to open your eyes again. But you’re not anywhere close to done and Lucifer is relying on you to have these sorted. This discipline record for Caacrinolaas should be in the C section under . . . under . . . 

“Falling asleep on the job?” Lucifer’s voice snaps you awake. He sounds amused more than annoyed. That’s probably good. 

“Ah, just, taking a moment.” You waive the paper in your hand. “I couldn’t find the C folder.” 

He smiles. “This one right in front of you?” 

You blush and pick it up, flipping to the discipline section. C-double-A . . . 

Lucifer takes both out of your hands and sets them down. “I think we need to call it a night.” 

“But I’m not done,” you protest. 

“Are you contradicting me?” One dark eyebrow lifts. 

“N-no.” 

“It sounded like it.” He bends down and scoops you up. “I will have to think of a suitable punishment for your insolence.” 

You try to wriggle out of his grasp, not because it’s unpleasant but because he makes you feel so helpless, holding you like that. 

Moving around only makes him grip you tighter, pulling you against his chest. “The more you struggle, the stricter I’ll be forced to be,” he warns. 

You go still. He carries you out of the office and down the hall. If you weren’t half afraid of what happens next, this might be pleasant. Lucifer smells good, and his chest is a perfect pillow. Despite your anxiety, you begin to close your eyes, lulled by the gentle motion. You aren’t sure when exactly that you fall asleep, but you can pinpoint the moment you wake.

 Lucifer’s fingers stroke gently through your hair. His breath is warm against your cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you work so hard you passed out from it,” he sighs. 

“I didn’t pass out,” you mumble. 

“You’re awake.” He lifts himself up on one arm to look down at you. “You should be resting.” 

“I thought you were going to punish me,” you reply, taking in the fact that he’s wearing pajamas now, and so are you. In his room. In his bed. 

“Looking forward to it?” He smiles and the heat in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine. “I think it can wait for morning. But perhaps . . . just a taste before we sleep.” His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you toward him as he kisses you. His lips are spicy and sweet, and your eyes close, enjoying the moment. 

Tea and Biscuits

You agree to meet Barbatos at the demon lord’s castle for tea. Just the two of you. The way he says it makes it almost sound like a date, but surely a demon that can see past, present, and possible futures wouldn’t be interested in a short-lived human. 

When you arrive, he leads you to a balcony overlooking the garden. There’s a small couch for two and a little table with a samovar for tea and several plates of biscuits, cakes, and sandwiches. Your favorite flavored biscuits, cakes, and sandwiches, to be exact. 

Barbatos smiles. “I hope it’s all to your liking.” 

“You know it is!” 

He laughs, and pours you a cup of tea. You both sit down, hips touching. It makes you blush a bit, but Barbatos doesn’t seem to notice - or care - so you decide to just ignore it. It’s hard though, to ignore the way his hand brushes yours and the press of his leg against you. The way his eyes never seem to leave you, going from your eyes to your face down your body.

 “Is it alright if I kiss you,” he asks suddenly. 

The question takes you by surprise but you nod. You like him but you’d never expected him to return the affection. 

Barbatos leans forward, his hand gentle on your thigh. His lips meet yours in a slow, sensuous kiss that spreads heat through your whole body. 

You’ve kissed before, but never like this. Never with someone that has millennias of skill and knowledge of you that even you don’t have. He slides his other hand behind your back, pulling you onto his lap. The kiss melts you against him. Silk and sweet and hot. You aren’t sure how long it lasts, only that when it ends, you want more.

Theater

When Diavolo invites you out to see the newest movie, I Was A TeenAge Witch’s Familiar and It Was Awful, you imagine going to a crowded theater, getting some popcorn, and sitting in a slightly smelly, stained chair that you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole if you saw it in broad daylight. 

Instead, you end up at his castle, sitting on a wide, comfortable plush velvet couch. The only two people in front of a theater-sized screen, where the as-yet-unreleased movie plays. 

Diavolo starts out on the opposite side of the couch, but keeps getting closer. To share popcorn, to offer you a sip of his drink, to point out some funny line in the film. Then his arm snakes around behind you, settling on your shoulders. 

You hop up, surprised. 

“I guess this means you don’t enjoy my company,” Diavolo says, looking up at you with big, sad eyes. 

“No . . . I do . . . just, I didn’t expect -” 

He shakes his head. “It’s alright. I’m sure you find me quite frightening.” 

“I don’t!” You sit back down and set a hand on his. “You don’t scare me at all, Diavolo. And . . . I think you’re cute.” 

“Is that so?” He grabs you with both hands and lifts you up. “What about now?” 

“Still not scared,” you say, though you are a little. 

He grins and stands up, still holding you above him. “Not even a little?” 

“No?” He tosses you into the air and you feel like a little kid, half-afraid and half-exhilarated. You let out a little shriek on the second toss and as you come down, he catches you in his arms. “Your reactions are so entertaining. Much better than any movie.” 

You can’t help but blush at the look in his eyes. Adoring and sensual. 

“It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you, just to see what you’ll do next.” 

You gasp as he begins to tickle you, his fingers finding all the sensitive spots on your sides. You reach out to tickle him back, surprised to find that Diavolo is absolutely ticklish all over the place. Both of you end up on the floor, laughing and panting in waves of tickle-attacks. 

“Truce!” You finally shout. 

He stops, his fingers in mid-wiggle. “But I am having so much fun . . .” His lips turn up in a slow, evil smile. “I’ll stop on one condition. You have to promise we’ll do this again.” 

You nod. “It’s a deal.”  

Like Magic

You agree to meet Solomon for a lesson in pacts. He knows more about them than anyone besides a demon lord. And he’s willing to share. For a price. You had to bring him the latest Madam Scream’s Scarlet Tarts as a trade for his secrets. A small price to pay. 

The two of you meet at a park in the Devildom. It’s almost as bright as a day in the real world, from the brilliant glowing mushrooms, tree fungi, and floating flowers. 

“You know, I could almost call this spot romantic,” Solomon says as he spreads out a picnic blanket to sit on. 

You raise an eyebrow. The sorcerer has been a little secret crush of yours, but you know when someone is out of your league. And an immortal genius definitely is. “Huh,” you reply. Great response, you think, but Solomon laughs. 

“I didn’t mean to leave you speechless.” 

You hand him the pastry box from Madam Screams. “I’m not speechless. I said ‘huh.’ 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think that counts as a word.” 

“And I guess you’re the final authority on that,” you mutter, feeling annoyed. 

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. “I didn’t mean to sound like a know-it-all. Forgive me?” He presses a light kiss to your palm. 

It surprises you so much that all you can do is nod, actually speechless. 

Solomon smiles. “Good. I wanted this to be a nice date.” 

“Date?” The word leaves your mouth before you think about it.

“What else would you call two people having a picnic in the park?” You think of a lot of things you might call it, but he’s smiling at you so sweetly that you just agree. 

He opens a grimoire across your laps and settles a hand behind you to lean over it. “This was my first real spellbook. I thought it might be a good place to start.” 

You realize as he talks that he isn’t just teaching you - he’s sharing something he’s never shared with anyone else. It makes you feel special, which must have shown in your face when he looks over at you because whatever he sees there makes him smile widely.

“We should do this more often,” he says, and before you can reply, his lips brush lightly against your cheek in a gentle kiss. 

With your heart beating so hard you’re sure he must hear it, you say, “Yeah. We should.” His fingers curl around yours, linking the two of you as you look up at the Devildom sky. 

Gossip Girl

You take Simeon up on an offered afternoon of looking at forbidden photo albums of the brothers from their celestial days. He promises to dish on the best stories, provided you never let on that you know about any of it. 

The two of you meet at Purgatory Hall in one of the unused rooms. It feels a little odd to be alone with the gorgeous angel, especially like this. One kiss away from an illicit affair. But you soon feel comfortable as Simeon settles next to you, flipping through pictures of Lucy, Mammon, Beel, and the others in their childhood and younger years. 

“Once, Lucy tried to make Michael happy by baking him a poppy-seed cake. But he used baking soda instead of powder . . .” Simeon’s eyes crinkle with laughter. “It came out more like a poppyseed brick. Lucy was so mad he threw it - right through the Metatron’s study window.” 

You giggle, imagining a furious Lucifer. 

“You have such a nice laugh,” Simeon says, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I’d like to hear it more often.” 

“Th-thanks,” you stutter. Taking compliments has never been your strength. He turns his head to face you. 

“Did I make you blush just now?” He tucks a bit of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to.” 

You nod, blushing even more furiously. 

“You don’t have to be shy around me. But . . . can I admit something to you?”

“Sure?” 

“I like that I can make you blush.” His fingers brush across your lips. “I’d like . . .” He stops himself and his hand drops away. 

“I’d like that too,” you say, unwilling to let the moment escape. You lean forward and give him a quick kiss. Now it’s his turn to blush.

The Incident

“No one must ever hear of this,” Luke tells you sternly. As sternly as he can, looking up at you and waving one little hand. 

“I swear to tell no one,” you promise. 

The two of you stand in the middle of a kitchen. At least, there’s a kitchen somewhere under the clumps of batter, berry jam, and soft butter. The results of Luke trying out spellcraft on his baking. 

It was *supposed* to be mystical muffins - a breakfast food that actually makes you look forward to the day. But it turned the mix into a growing, bubbling mass that eventually burst. Which is when Luke texted you to come over. The two of you set to cleaning it up. 

It takes hours to scoop, wipe, rinse, and dry everything in the room. You’re in the middle of a final wipedown on the cabinets when you realize Luke hasn’t said a word for awhile now. 

You turn and see the little guy with his head on his arm, a rag in hand. His eyes are closed and a light snore whistles from his nose. He’s so cute. Like a puppy. He can’t sleep on the floor though. 

You finish wiping and set down the cloth, then go to wake him up. 

He mumbles and rolls over, but his eyes stay shut. Finally, you decide to heft him up and carry him to his room. He’s a bit heavy, but you manage to lift him. His head settles on your shoulder and his arms wrap around your neck. 

He smells like warm milk and cinnamon, you think. And he is so soft, like a fluffy little poodle. You carry him to his room and lay him down. He doesn’t stir as you pull off his shoes and tuck him in. 

“Sweet dreams, little baker,” you tell him. He smiles.

[lupinblacktheone]

"So, I was thinking": a modern college!AU:

Johnny is bored. He has already finished all of his crosswords; all of his friends are busy minding their own business and won't pick up their phones.

Classes won't begin until next Monday. Johnny arrived at his dorm last night and he doesn't know when his roommate will be there. All he knows about this person is his name: LaRusso, Daniel.

Wondering about this mysterious boy could set Johnny free from his boredom. Is he a nerd? Or a drama kid? Johnny hopes he won't sing all the time. Of course he likes music (who doesn't?), but musicals... he isn't ready for them yet.

It would be nice to have some common likings with him. Maybe horror movies or breakfast for dinner (well, Johnny is so broke that he eats it for all meals, basically).

Remembering the old times, which weren't good, not at all, tugs at Johnny's heartstrings. He doesn't miss arguing with his parents all the time, but he certainly liked not having to iron his clothes himself. And he misses messing around with Tommy, Jimmy, Bobby and Dutch after school.

Oh, and Karate! Johnny misses it so much that it hurts. He couldn't find a Karate club to join (is this a thing? In Johnny's opinion, it should be. There are clubs for everything in this campus. If he can't find one, he'll form one). Maybe he can practice with Daniel and he could be the second member of the Karate club.

"Hello! I'm Daniel!"

Johnny stares at the boy. He's short, dark-haired and has round brown eyes.

"Johnny", the blond boy gets up, approaches Daniel and shakes his hand. "Can I help you unpacking?"

"Please", Daniel sighs and rubs his neck. "My mother just dropped me off and turned the car around. I barely had time to say goodbye. Can you believe it? I think she wants to rent my room while I'm gone, but I don't think I'll be going home anytime soon. How about you?"

Obviously, the first thing Johnny learns about Daniel is: he's a chatterbox. Second thing: he's from Jersey. He lives with his mother and would love to learn martial arts, but her mother wouldn’t let him because she’s afraid he will get hurt.

"I know Karate", Johnny confesses with a little smile.

***

Sometimes, Johnny regrets having told Daniel about his passion for Karate, because the kid didn't stop begging Johnny for some classes until he finally gave up.

Their dorm is too small and they would destroy it sparring there, so Johnny decides to have the class outside, behind the gym. Daniel said he would meet Johnny there after dinner (and yes, Daniel also has breakfast for all meals, since he is just as broke as Johnny).

December is on the way, so Johnny is wearing as much sweaters as he can (including his Cobra Kai jacket). He leans his back against the red brick wall and puts a cigarette between his lips.

Daniel shows up some minutes later, carrying a heavy messenger bag on his shoulder and wrapped in hoodies and coats (he has lots of cool hoodies; Johnny loves to borrow them and he is using the baseball one right now).

"Ugh", Daniel puts the bag down, massaging his shoulder.

"Are you ok?", Johnny asks with a worried look on his face.

"Perfect. Let's do this."

They get on fighting positions and spar for a while. When they get tired, they walk back to their room, peacefully talking about the day.

"Let me carry this for you", Johnny picks the messenger bag, even though Daniel has already bent to pull it.

He places it over his shoulder and Daniel walks beside him, ranting about his lame Calculus professor.

"I couldn't convince Mrs. Warter to postpone the paper's due date", Johnny complains when Daniel asks about his day. "I'll be lucky if I get a C on it."

"Do you want me to help you?"

Yes, please, he almost answers. Johnny enjoys having Daniel around. They don't have many common likings besides Karate and breakfast food, but he really enjoys staying up late with him, sharing their only desk (Johnny begun to work as a cashier in a store near the campus and Daniel writes other people's assignments for money and they are saving money to improve the place) and laptops on study sessions. Or to spend rare and lazy Sundays in their room, doing crosswords (Daniel bought some magazines and gave to Johnny). Or to share breakfast meals in the middle of the night because they can't sleep.

"Are you free tonight?", he asks, his voice sounds desperate, just as his eyes.

"Is this a study session or a date?", Daniel replies jokingly and raises an eyebrow. "Sure. I can help you."

Johnny opens his laptop and shows Daniel what he's working on.

"I mean, it's not bad, but could use some adjustments here and there. Let's get to work."

Daniel presses the keyboard keys hard with strong movements that emulate a pianist, but with perfectly tied hair. His brain is formulating what should be in the text and getting rid of what shouldn't be read by Johnny's professor.

"I think we're done here", Daniel declares.

"Thanks. I'm gonna buy you a coffee tomorrow, with extra cream."

"Much appreciated", the boy winks and Johnny's heart skips a beat. "So, I was thinking..."

"What a miracle", Johnny teases, smiling to distract Daniel from his blushing ears.

"Anyway, are you going home for Christmas?"

"I don't think so. You?"

"Also no. I don't have enough money for a ticket to Parsipanny."

Daniel looks at Johnny for a moment. His blue eyes are usually shiny, but now... he's more than just sad. Johnny looks depressed and scared.

"Are you alright?", Daniel reaches for Johnny's hand. "You can talk to me. I'm here for you."

Johnny doesn't talk. Instead, he goes for a hug. A big and warm hug. He clings onto Daniel as if he was the only thing keeping him from being blown away.

He doesn't want to cry. However, he can't fight the tears anymore. Daniel holds Johnny, trying to keep him together only with his bare hands. He doesn't try to whisper comfort words in Johnny's ear, he just stays there, providing his roommate all the support he can.

That night, Johnny falls asleep in Daniel's arms. He has never felt this safe before.

The next morning, Johnny rushes to the closest cafe shop to get the nicest cup they have. He drops by the dorm to put the coffee on the desk with a note: To the best roommate ever. Thank you for everything. Love, J.

He sends the paper to Mrs. Warter as soon as he takes a seat in the computer lab for his first class, hoping Daniel's help can save his poor ass from failing Warter's class.

A few hours later, Johnny is waiting for the last class to begin so he can get to work. Not that he likes standing up by a counter telling old people where they can find raisins, plum juice and other things old people buy. But at least, he gets to listen to his music and does little pieces of homework between a client and another.

There is something Johnny can't do at the store: see Daniel. Too bad they don't take many classes together, because every time Johnny sees Daniel entering the classroom, the world changes. It becomes brighter and more beautiful. He knows it's cliché, but Johnny is tired of pretending to be the perfect son, athlete... he just wants to be Johnny.

And Johnny is brave.

"So, I was thinking...", Johnny says when Daniel sits by his side.

"That's unusual", Daniel lets out that amusement air through his nose. "What is it?"

"Do you wanna go out? With... with me?"

That is really unusual. Johnny never was this reticent before. Not even when he noticed he had a crush on Ali Mills.

“Yeah, sure. When?”

“How about Friday? My shift ends at 5:30.”

“Sounds great.”

***

Johnny spends Christmas in his dorm, with Daniel. They curl up on Johnny’s bed, wrapped in Daniel’s hoodies, solving crosswords puzzles and drinking tea while listening to Johnny’s music. Neither of them wants to talk about their families.

Growing up as an only child, Johnny never had to share his things. He wouldn’t even allow Ali to read his poetry (he wrote some about her, tho), or let his friends go through his Spotify playlist. Not because he's embarrassed to like these songs, but because the lyrics describe him so perfectly that he's not comfortable with someone listening to it in front of him.

When he met Daniel and found out they could be good friends (maybe more than that? Johnny certainly hopes so), he felt an urge to take the boy on a journey through his world. First, they shared Karate, then crossword puzzles and went on and on, discovering little things about one another.

“Huh… I couldn’t get you anything for Christmas, so I wrote you a poem. Wanna hear it?”

Daniel doesn’t say anything, just gets closer to him as Johnny clears his throat and searches his notebook for his newest composition. Once he finds it, he puts the paper in front of his eyes (he was brave enough to ask the boy out, but not to have that lovely brown eyes gazing at him while he reads his feelings out.)

“I loved it, Johnny. Now get ready for your present.”

Johnny doesn’t close his eyes when his lips are pressed by Daniel’s mouth. It feels so good that they do it again and again until they fall asleep, holding each other.

***

Graduation is almost here. Most students have moved from the dorms or plan to do it soon. Daniel and Johnny, on the other hand, haven’t mentioned the matter yet. As you can imagine, they don’t want to live with their families again. The only thing Johnny wants is to stay with Daniel and he wonders if Daniel wants the same thing.

“Hey, Danny”, it was supposed to be a nice and quiet study session before the finals, but Johnny can’t hold this down any longer. “I was thinking… do you wanna live with me?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re never getting rid of me, blondie.”

[kyber-kisses]

Through A Mothers Eyes (Part 4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: slow burn, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, more best friend banter and crack. THEY ARE IDIOTS.

Summary:Mary meets an old friend of the Winchesters and apparently she’s the only one who can see the very obvious feelings the reader and Dean have for each other.

A/N: This series is always so much fine to write, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you thought!

“Seriously, Dean. Why do you insist on doing this every damn time?”

There was a pause from the hunter across from you.“ . . . I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.” Dean breathed from over the hood of the impala, glancing up at you momentarily.

Dunking your sponge back into the bucket, you slapped it across the window of the passenger door, scrubbing away the dust. You didn’t have a problem with helping Dean wash the car, you just didn’t understand why he had to wash it before every fucking hunt.

“It’s-“ you paused to look over at the clock on the wall of the bunkers garage. “Not even nine in the morning.”

“You offered to help.”

“I know- I just didn’t realize you wanted it done so soon.”

Dean looked up again, pausing his work to glare at you. “We’re leaving in a few hours for that case in Kentucky. When else were we gonna do it?”

You hummed a response that sounded a lot like an I don’t know before dropping your sponge back into the bucket and grabbing the hose. Twisting the nozzle, you aimed it at your bare feet to test the water pressure.

You were beginning to grow bored. You needed to spice things up.

“Hey, can you hand me that towe—“ the Winchester never got to finish his sentence before a solid jet of water hit him in the face. Your sudden attack coming out of nowhere when he looked up. A second later he was blinking water from his eyes and sending you a silent and irritated glare as he wiped his face. “Seriously? What are you, Fiv-“

Another jet of water to the face, this time unfortunately Deans mouth was open, resulting in him spitting out a generous amount when you stopped. They were quick spurts, your finger only squeezing the trigger for a fraction of a second- but they still managed to soak him. His black t-shirt clinging to his skin.

“Y/-”

Ptsssss

“You little-”

Ptsssss

“Im gonna-”

Ptsssss

Dean shot you another look, this time pursing his wet lips as he waited to see wether or not you would hit him again. “Bitch.”

“Slut.”

The hunter raised his eyebrows, leaning back slightly in mock surprise.

“What? Have you not seen those shorts you’re wearing?” You eyes going down to his denim shorts.

“Okay first of all, free bunker.” He raised a soapy finger . “And second, my legs look great in them. You wish you were me.”

“They sure do.” You nodded . . . proceeding then to squeeze the trigger once more and hit him in the face with another stream of water. “Whore.”

This time Dean reeled back, thoroughly annoyed by the water and wiping his face with the back of his hand as your grinned. “Fucking bitch-“ he fired back, pulling his arm back. Before you could even register what he was doing, a wet sponge smacked into your forehead with a hefty thwap, your head being knocked back by the force.

Games. It was always dumb games like this with you two.

You were stunned momentarily as the sponge hit the floor, and then you started to laugh. The sound bubbling up through you throat and successfully catching Dean off guard. He wasn’t expecting you to laugh. Not at all.

“Y/N?”

He shouldn’t have let his guard down because like a switch being flicked, you stopped laughing, raised the hose and sprayed him again.

“Dammit Y/N!” Dean snapped, spinning on his heel to find his own water bucket. A moment later he was picking it up and throwing its soapy contents over the hood of the car and right into you, successfully soaking you in one go. You stumbled back, sputtering- wiping suds from your eyes as you looked down at the clothes you were wearing, the cloth now stuck to your body.

There was a moment of silence as the both of you registered what had just happened, and then Dean chuckled, you following suit a moment later until the both of you were laughing hysterically, too occupied to notice the two people standing in the doorway of the bunkers garage.

“Are- are they ever not weird?” Mary tried, arms crossed as she watched the two of you continue to spiral into fits of hysteria.

“Mom.” Sam began, clamping a reassuring hand over her shoulder. “They share one brain cell between the two of them. Weird and dumb is all they know.”

*. *. *. *. * . *.

An hour later, your duffels were packed and laying on the war room table as you finished off a late breakfast, Mary seated across from you, nose deep in her laptop. Besides you, Sams feet were kicked up on the table as he flipped through a lore book.

It was much qiuter than it had been an hour ago to say the least. You now had dry clothes on, your hair still damp from Deans bucket of soapy water. It was only a moment later that Dean walked in with his bags slung around his shoulders. “Alright! Who’s ready for a family hunting trip?” He declared, dropping his bags down next to yours.

“What?”

“Hunting trip?”

The older Winchesters shoulders dropped as he looked over at his brother and mother. “Seriously? You'd have thought the bags would have given it away.” He gestured towards the table.

Swinging his feet to the ground, Sam set down his book. “What kind of case?”

“Vahmps-“ you mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled egg, pausing to swallow a second later and clear your throat. “Vamps. Small rural Kentucky town. Shouldn’t be too big of a deal.”

“You guys wanna join?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond but was stopped short when Mary suddenly butted in. “No!” She took a deep breath. “No. You go without us. Sam and I have a case to work a few towns over anyways-“

“We do?” He whispered, clearly taken off guard by his mothers words, but fortunately going unnoticed by you and Dean.

“We do!”

Dean ever so slightly titled his head is surprise. “You guys need help?”

“No!no you guys go deal with those vamps. Sam and I will be fine.” Mary nodded, giving you both a bright smile. Maybe this was exactly what you and Dean needed. Time together.

At this point you had stood up, slinging your bags over your shoulders right along side Dean, your plate still balanced in your hand and ready to be dropped off in the kitchen on your way out.

The two of you shared a confused look before shrugging and heading towards the hallway that led to the garage. “Okayyyyy. See you guys later then.” Dean began, sending his mom one more confused look over his shoulder before turning the corner after you.

Once Sam knew the two of you were out of earshot he spun on his heel to look at Mary. “What the hell?”

“Just trust me.”

“We’re gonna find them dead in a field somewhere.”

“Sam, I doubt that.” Mary sighed, closing her laptop. “Those two seem to work well together. They’ll be fine.”

“. . . Uh huh. I mean, they do work great together, I’ve seen them, but also. . . They’re idiots.”

“Maybe so.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The drive from Lebanon to Madisonville Kentucky was shorter than most of your drives for hunts. The seven hours from the bunker to there was easy. You provided the snacks and Dean had provided the music, the two of you falling into your usual hunting routine the moment the wheels of the impala hit the asphalt.

Feet pressed into the glove box, you balanced a bag of beef jerky of your knees, fiddling with the volume dials as you chewed- pausing only to hand Dean a piece when he extended his palm.

“You’re mom was acting really weird when we left.” You began, glancing up from your snack, Deans eyes focused on the road. No answer. “Dean!”

Your shout successfully knocked him out of the zone as his head whipped around to look at you. “What?”

“Dude, you were in the zone. What the hell were you thinking about?”

Not that he would ever admit it out loud or anything, but he had been thinking about you. Why? He had no clue. But for the past hour his mind had been pulling him back to that incident in the garage that resulted in you soaking wet with your clothes clinging to your skin. Why was he think about that? He shouldn't have been thinking about that---

“Dean!”

“Quit shouting damn it!” He sent you another glare before letting out a sigh.”Sorry, What were you saying?”

“I was trying to say that your mom was acting really weird when we left.”

“Don’t mind her. That’s just mom being mom.” Dean sighed, eyes glancing through the side window before flicking on his turn signal and pulling Baby into the parking lot of the motel. “She’s not bothering you, is she?”

“No! No of course not.” You shook your head before lowering your knees and tossing the bag onto the seat. “I was just surprised that neither of them wanted to join us.”

“She said they found a case, so-“ Dean shrugged again as he turned off the car once in a parking spot. “You wanna go get the key or do you wanna unload the bags.”

Propping your sunglasses up on your head, you swung open the passenger door. “I’ll unload.”

And just like that Dean was leaving you at the trunk of the impala as he went to go retrieve the key to your motel room. When he came back you were leaning against the hood, all four duffels slung over your shoulders.

“Room 14.” He held up the silver key as he stepped down in front of you. “You need help?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Pushing yourself off the mat black hood you followed Dean down the row of bright yellow doors, the numbers on each having rusted from weather and age.You liked going on hunts with just Dean. Sam wasn't there to complain about your taste in music or hog shotgun. Plus, it was much more fun to hang out with your best friend when its just the two of you.

You maybe got halfway towards the door before you stopped and let out a huff as you attempted to re-adjust the straps, Dena stopping when he realized you weren’t next to him.

“Seriously?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The hunter grinned before backpedaling and taking two of the bags. “You know you could just ask for help, right?” He mused, the two of you continuing your walk once situated.

“Yeah, but I don’t like doing that.”

“Oh I know, little miss I’ll stitch up my stab wound by myself.”

“Would you rather have had me bleed out on the bunker floor as I waited for you to get home?”

“. . . Well.” Dean paused as he set his bags on the ground to unlock the door, acting as if he was contemplating it. “If you had done that at least I would be rid of you.”

“Oh yeah, I’d definitely like to see you survive this world without me.” You quipped, stepping into the room as he swung open the door for you.

“I’d be thriving.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Dean flicked on the lights behind you before shutting the door. The familiar sight of old wallpaper and even older flooring meeting your eyes. It wasn’t until your bags had been piled onto the linoleum flooring once more that both of you saw the one slight issue it had.

 “Classic.” You sighed, nodding you head. “Just classic.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda​​​ @jordangdelacruz​​​ @orphiceseum​​​ @andthatsmyworld​​​ @marvelfangirllll​​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​​ @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx​​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​​​  @totallyluciferr​​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​​ @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​​ @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler​​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​​ @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo​​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​​ @greenarrowhead​​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​​​ @brebolin​​​ @biahblue​​​ @noahandthegiraffe​​​ @hhiggs​​​ @mila-dans​​​ @mrsmaybankhere​​​ @malindacath​​​  @littleagxs​​​ @deanwanddamons​​​ @idksupernatural​​​​ @i-make-questionable-choices​ @drakelover78​

[kodzukenscorner]

Konoha, Yaku, and Terushima with a drunk S/O

anon asked: hello ! can i ask for hcs with konoha, yaku and terushima taking care of their giggly drunk s/o ? thank you !

a/n: ahhhhh idk how i feel about this but here it is! i did my best anon : ((

wc: 1,059

✶   ✶   ✶   ✶   ✶

Konoha

You had gone out to celebrate a birthday party with friends while Konoha stayed behind

It was a close friends only situation, no boyfriends allowed, so he just waited for you to return home so he could get some love and affection

He busied himself watching different things on TV until he finally heard you coming in through the front door

It was well past midnight and he was starting to get worried but when he heard you come home, he was ecstatic to see you again

“Babeeee, what took you so long, I was getting bored”

He walked towards the front door to find you struggling to get your key out of the lock

He chuckled at you and asked if you needed any help

You looked over at him at it took your brain a moment to register that your boyfriend was there!

But when did you realize, you abandoned your key still sitting in the lock and wrapped your arms around his neck

“Aki~ I missed you soooooooooo much”

He could smell the booze coming off of you but just laughed and hugged you with one arm while the other reached to pull the key from the lock and close the door

“Sounds like you had fun”

“So much fun!” You beamed and pulled away from his embrace, jumping up and down

He followed you as you ran into the living room, flopping down on the couch

He tried to pull you up when he realized that you were dead tired and almost fell asleep right there

You noticed him trying to get you up and just went limp, giggling at how hard he was trying to get you off the couch and into bed

“You’re gonna have to change my clothes for me, I’m too tired”

He smirked at that, suddenly lifting you up bridal style

“Ok, but I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself babe, it’s not fair that you got to have all the fun”

Yaku

You had gone out to a bar with some of yours and Yaku’s friends but he had some last minute work to do and couldn’t make it

He still insisted that you go out and have fun without him

You promised to text him every now and then to keep him updated

He was beginning to realize through your texts that you were getting progressively more drunk and he was starting to get a bit worried

Then he decided to call you to make sure you were alright and that you could get home safely

When you picked up the phone your words were slurred, you were hiccuping, and giggling at the end of every sentence

But you assured him that you were fine and in a cab on your way home

He was still a nervous wreck so he waited for you by the front door and when he saw your cab pull up and you stumbling out, he immediately flung the door open and brought you inside 

You were still giggling at everything and nothing while you clung to him for support

He basically dragged you inside and immediately brought you to bed where he started gently taking off your coat and shoes

“I wish yo-uuu could-ve come, it would ha-ve been so mu-ch funnnnnn”

“Me too, but let’s just get you ready for bed now okay?”

He was doing his best to try and get you cleaned up and in bed but you were not having any of it

You kept tugging on his arm to get him onto the bed with you and when you finally succeeded you were laughing and crawling on top of him

He was so flustered and just wanted you to get some rest but he could hardly focus with your body pressed into his

“I dun wanna go to slee-p yet”

You were pouting and burying your face into his neck 

He managed to find some self control and sat up with you straddling his lap

“If you promise to go to bed right now, I’ll let you be the big spoon” 

You were so excited you nearly fell out of his lap laughing but he was right there to catch you, finally joining you in your laughter

Terushima

Terushima 100% got drunk with you and you two were having a blast

You had gone to a club together and were having a great time dancing and just generally fooling around

But the two of you have a system where you switch off on who has to remain more sober

It was Teru’s night to be the semi sober one so he stopped himself after only few drinks, getting a bit tipsy but still coherent enough to make sure you stayed safe

You on the other hand really let go, you had a rough week and this was your release

He honestly loved it when you were the one to get more drunk because it was when you finally let go of your inhibitions

You also became more affectionate with him and, honestly, drunk you was hilarious to be around

As the night went on, Teru got more and more sober while you just seemed to get more silly

You kept clinging onto him like a koala and giggling in his ear, telling him how much fun you were having 

He held you close, not wanting anyone to get near you except for him while you danced your troubles away

Once the club started to empty, he thought it was best if you two went home and at this point he was stone cold sober and just wanted to sleep

You were still enjoying your high and practically begged him to stay just a little bit longer

But he was persistent, he knew if he kept you out any longer you would regret it in the morning and he would never hear the end of it

You were so adamant on staying that he had to throw you over his shoulder and carry you home

Once he set you down in the comfort of your own room, you were still pouting and upset

He pinched your cheeks and took out his phone playing some music on it

“Wanna keep dancing babe?”

You lit up and took his outstretched hand, dancing the rest of the night away with him

[twoblueheartslocked]

Mini Para: August Flashback(s)

Rating: PG-13?

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Four and a Half years before the events of ( Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You ) Start of August before Blaine’s Senior Year and Sebastian’s Junior Year. Blaine (almost 17) Seb(16 as of this Para).

Location: Westerville, OH- Sebastian’s house.

Info: A look into the month of August and the progression of Sebastian and Blaine’s relationship. Sebastian celebrates his 16th birthday with Blaine on August 27.

Warnings: Kissing teens and cussing.

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Blaine’s POV:

The month of August had been a bit of a whirlwind for Blaine; Sam had come back from his trip so he’d spend a few comic book and video game filled evenings with his best friend. Sam had been a little floored when Blaine had told him about him and Kurt. But, when Blaine mentioned all of the problems they’d be having; the fighting, the way Blaine spent almost all of his time insecure when it came to Kurt, how he always felt like he needed to dull his shine around him- Sam actually surprised him by saying that Blaine should have done this a few months ago. Much to Blaine’s surprise also was how Sam was not surprised at all that he’d been hanging around with Sebastian for weeks. He’d rolled his eyes and simply said the word duh, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Blaine had spent the rest of the night wondering if maybe, just maybe his feelings for Sebastian had possibly influenced his final decision in breaking things off with Kurt before they got too bad. He wondered if it made him a bad person because he knew now that it was so much more than just friends that he felt when it came to the tall, green eyed boy that had been taking up occupancy in his mind the last couple of months. He tried to ignore it when his brain yelled at him that Sebastian had, in some way, been there since they met, almost a whole year ago…

They’d spent almost every single free day they’d had together. Diners with shakes, and the county fair where Blaine had bought them terrible fair food and eaten too much cotton candy and Sebastian had charmed his way into a golden teddy bear to make him feel better. Blaine had dubbed the bear August as a reminder of their day. It was still sitting on his bed. They’d taken long night time drives and had gone to see a few blockbuster movies where Sebastian had gotten them giant buckets of popcorn slathered in butter and salt and sticky, sweet sodas. Blaine couldn't remember the last time he’d had so much carefree fun and every night he went home smiling and wondering what would come next.

And last weekend, Blaine had driven the two of them to the city- Columbus had one of those preserved old Movie Theatres' that looked like it had been frozen in the 1950’s. It was the kind of place that still tore your paper ticket and only showed movies that were before 1995 and only on 35mm film. The kind that still had a red velvet curtain, and ushers and they even made you watch a little cartoon before they showed the feature and good god, Blaine thought it was absolutely perfect. The film was Jaws this time, the theme being A Summertime Nightmare and they even sold little sugar cookies in the shapes of sharks with a painted on leg and shiny red icing for blood. Blaine bought them two. Sebastian wasn’t a big fan of horror films but once Blaine had playfully promised to fight the big bad monster off for him he seemed to calm down a little. Even if it was just because he was laughing at the thought.

Sebastian had been doing well until the ominous music started up and then he caught the first sight of the massive creature and Seb jumped so hard he almost tipped their popcorn, his body automatically curling towards Blaine’s as if he really could protect him. Blaine’s response had been to smile, chuckle softly and reach out for his companions hand, his fingers sliding easily between Seb’s. Seb had squeezed his hand back, face unreadable in the dim light of the old film light. But, he didn’t pull away and his grip told Blaine that he wanted to do it just as much as he did.  And it was so natural you’d think they’d done this so many times. That they’d been a couple for years. Blaine had spent so damn long fighting this feeling, the -what are we- over and over that he just didn’t have it in him anymore. It was like the harder he fought against his feelings for Seb, the stronger the magnetic pull towards Sebastian grew.

And so the hand holding became a regular thing over the last seven days, so much that Blaine’s stomach flipped each time he thought about getting to do it.  And it was almost laughable to him because Blaine wasn’t some green boy anymore. He’d been sexually active with Kurt over the last year,(He tried not to think about how insecure those moments left him, too.) but for some reason those times with Kurt didn’t seem to hold a candle to moments where he was just holding Sebastian Smythe’s fucking hand. And so every time they sat in a diner or took a drive under the stars to some park just to talk and walk or swing, he would find himself reaching for Sebastian’s hand and sometimes Seb reached for his. Blaine was in his feelings and he wasn’t sure what it meant, all he knew was that he’d fight the moon just to see Sebastian smile the way he did when their fingers were linked together.

                                                            ...

Blaine bit his bottom lip, pulling himself from the memories of the past month and tried to concentrate on getting the six of the big 1-6 he was writing on the very pink cake in leafy green icing. It was Sebastian’s sixteenth birthday today and Blaine got to spend it with him. He’d baked a homemade round strawberry cake, complete with fresh strawberries adorning the sides. Even the icing was homemade and Blaine was rather proud of himself as he stepped back to look at his handy work.

“Almost like it came from a bakery, Blaine.” His head turned to the entrance to the kitchen where his mom stood, cute and compact with an empty mug of tea to return to the kitchen. She made her way in, setting the mug in the sink before making her way over to Blaine. Her dark lashes framing her inquiring gold eyes. She turned him and put her hand on his shoulders, tilting his chin down just a bit so she could see him. “Is Sebastian your new boyfriend, sweetheart?” Blaine blushed hard and bit his bottom lip. Icing from the cake still clinging to his fingers as he let his mom hold onto him. Blaine gave a shrug, unable to answer and afraid to know the answer himself. Imelda had just smiled, soft and knowingly before lifting her shorter body to kiss Blaine gently on the forehead. “Well, whatever he is to you your smile is radiant when he’s here.” She laughed a little. “And so is his. So, if you’re worried that he might not want to be with you, I don’t think it’s necessary.” Blaine bit his bottom lip. His emotions swelling in him as he spoke honestly to her and, for the first time out loud.. himself.

“I like him so much, mom. It’s crazy. I didn’t really realize, I mean, I truly didn’t know it until now, but I think I have for a long time. Does that make me a bad person? Because of Kurt...” She shushed him and shook her head before pulling him into a tight hug. “You can’t help how you feel, and now you’re free to feel the things you do, honey.” She pulled back enough to look at him again, her honey eyes, the ones he’d inherited, smiling. “Any boy that makes you smile like that is a keeper, Blaine. Don’t let him get away.” and then she stole a few leftover strawberries and was gone out the door before he could say anything else. He wondered if other people were seeing what his mom had seen. He still didn’t know what they were, but he hoped it was more than just friends.

He packed up the cake into a plastic cake container and made sure he had all the ingredients of the pizza he was going to make for Sebastian. Extra onions and extra bacon, sauce, cheese, crust… Yeah, he had it. He hadn’t gotten Seb a gift because he wasn’t sure if that would be inappropriate or or too much or what. But now as he looked at his spread he thought maybe it was too much anyway and old insecurities about doing too much or being too over the top started to trickle in. He made himself shrug it off.  Sebastian had never made him feel like that, he had no reason to think he would now. He took the dark blue cake box and loaded it into his green SUV along with the pizza stuff. He felt under dressed, his curls loose for once and his feet in flip flops. He was wearing red swim trunks with little navy sailboats on them and a bright yellow tank top. Sebastian had insisted he wear something that he could swim in.

He placed the little card he’d gotten on top of the cake box, smiling to himself because he’d picked it out precisely as a joke. On the outside was a sly fox with a bored but slightly smiling face and a bouncing bunny rabbit in a bow tie looking overly excited. The inside was blank but Blaine had written a note along with the date.

Happy Birthday, Seb,

There’s no one else I’d rather annoy with stories or waste my nights away with.

Yours,

❤ B.

It was dumb and cute and Blaine hoped it made Seb smile. 

It wasn’t long before he was knocking on Sebastian's massive door, his arms full of surprises.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian had begged his mom, Sabine to leave for the next evening. Blaine was going to come over with a birthday surprise for him and had hinted that he’d need the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was his mother or some random member of her staff hanging around the kitchen. 

“Mom. Please. Please, please, please.” He was practically on his knees. Sebastian felt like he didn’t ask for much but didn’t all teenagers think that? “Please let us have the kitchen to ourselves. We’ll clean it up and everything. I swear.” His hands were clasped in front of him as if in silent prayer. “And we can celebrate my birthday later in the week.” 

“Sebastian,” Sabine looked up from her book, his name in her french accent, her green eyes peaked over her black framed cat eye glasses. “You can use the kitchen.” She sighed and closed her book, her eyes focused his, a matching pair of hers.  “Are you and Blaine dating?”

“Mom…” He huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he could feel his cheeks slightly redden and Sabine laughed.

“Just clean up your messes.”

He promised he wouldn’t leave a mess and that they would have dinner together later in the week to celebrate. Seb  got out the room as fast as he could. Sebastian didn’t know what he and Blaine were but he knew he was having the best summer of his life. He had never realized such simple things could make him so happy. Bribing carnies for teddy bears, too much cotton candy, fresh popcorn, holding hands at classic movies, in the car, on walks, on swing sets. Sebastian couldn’t wait for Blaine to come over on his birthday.

The next day was spent obsessively checking the time and trying on different swim trunk/tee shirt/ tank top combos to see what looked best. Sebastian settled on a dark green tee shirt and navy blue swim trunks. He could make a scene out of taking the tee shirt off before they swam and the swim trunks were a little short but showed off his legs. Sebastian hoped Blaine would notice.

Finally, the doorbell rang and Sebastian raced to answer the door before the maid did. Blaine had the code to the gated community already and had seen the various members that worked around his home but he wanted things to go smoothly and as nonchalant as possible (though there were butterflies and elephants and any other cliche you could think of in his stomach)

“Hey, B.” He opened the door and stepped back so the other boy could walk inside the house with his various materials. “All this for me?” Sebastian led Blaine to the kitchen and watched as he set out the ingredients for pizza and opened the cake box. The cake looked almost professional and Sebastian had never had a friend bring him a cake before. Sure, the cook had baked him birthday cakes and his mother had ordered him cakes with various characters on them when he was younger but this was different. He could tell a lot of hard work went into it and Sebastian thought to himself that he had never had anybody outside of his home do something so thoughtful. “You even got my favorite pizza toppings. This is so awesome.”

“You made this all by yourself?” Sebastian admired the green writing and the expertly placed fruit. He already knew it would taste perfect because Blaine had made it and he was just so naturally talented at everything he did.

Seb picked a strawberry off of the side of the red cake and popped it into his mouth as he read the card. He rolled his eyes playfully at the cartoon animals. “Thanks,killer. I’ll cherish this piece of paper forever.” But it had said yours and he wondered if Blaine had meant to do that. Yours. That could mean so many things. Sebastian smiled to himself and set the card on the windowsill above the sink so that he wouldn’t lose it. His.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine suddenly felt extremely self conscious as he waited for Sebastian to answer his door. He wished he’d worn real clothing and just changed into his trunks when it was time to swim. Plus he was freaking gelless and now he was regretting it. He felt exposed with his curls loose god why didn’t he gel? He hadn’t let anyone see him this way for a moment. When Kurt had seen them he’d covered his mouth and pretended they were fine, and he’d been called an assortment of names by his friends. He could still hear Brittney's Broccoli comment and it made him cringe inside. But, over the last few months, Blaine had figured out how to keep the frizziness at bay with a new product and he figured tonight, what with the pool and all, would be a good night to try it out. But now, he was wondering if maybe tonight wasn’t the best night to test it out. It was too late now. Seb was opening the door looking just as gorgeous as ever in blue trunks that showed off so much leg Blaine was struggling not to stare at the light ripple of muscle as Seb led them to the massive kitchen.

His nervousness slowly ebbed away as Sebastian seemed truly impressed with his spread. He fought a smile and tried his hardest not to blush to his toes at the compliments Sebastian was dishing out. He was always pretty vocal about his appreciation for things he liked, but every single time they were directed at him, they made Blaine feel out of sorts and his tummy did little flips.

“Yeah, I made it. I like to cook and stuff and you like strawberry so figured why not? I hope you like it.” Again, he tried to fight his blush as he watched Sebastian pop the red fruit past his full bottom lip. Only Sebastian could make something as simple as that seem so attractive without even trying and Blaine was again regretting the damn short. He cleared his throat, thankful that if Sebastian noticed his crazy blushing he at least wasn’t saying anything. He watched nervously as he opened the birthday card, worrying his bottom lip and wondering if it was too cheesy. But, Seb’s smile and his words relaxed him and he wondered if he’d really keep it forever.

“So, I’ve already made the dough, it has to sit for a couple of hours, but you can help me roll it out, and I’ve cooked the bacon and cut the onions up, so all we have to do is sauce it, cheese it and top it.” He laughed, happy that Sebastian seemed so happy with his gifts. “I was going to go pick a pizza up from Borgata’s, but we get food out all the time and I thought it would be fun if we made one together. Besides, you can put as many onions and as much bacon on it as you’d like. I won’t complain one bit. However,” He reached out and playful swatted Sebastian’s hand away from the cake before covering it back up. “No cake until we’ve cleaned up the whole mess, got it?” He teased sliding the cake just out of his reach.

As it turned out, Sebastian was actually pretty terrible in the kitchen. Blaine ended up doing most of it himself while Sebastian stole pieces of bacon and cheese and traced his fingers through the flour before gently dragging his fingers over Blaine’s nose and down his cheek, laughing as he did so. He was lucky he got the pie baked in one piece. It was funny and sweet and Blaine felt like he was in a ridiculous rom-com for a little bit and he was already dreading having to leave for the night. They had cleaned up their mess while the pizza was cooling and then they’d gotten plates and brought fresh lemonade from Seb’s refrigerator, their slices of pizza and the cake box out onto the pool deck with them. The sun was setting and the moon was so full they didn’t need the deck lightly to see. Blaine had taken his flip flops off, feeling more relaxed and happy than he had in a long time.

“So, what’s the verdict, Birthday Boy?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Blaine’s eyes were wide and his hair was loose (a rare sight, Sebastian loved to see his curls) and he looked like he was sitting on the edge of his deck chair as he waited for an answer. Even in the moonlight Blaine looked beautiful and maybe even more so than normal. Sebastian thought to himself that he should tell him he looked amazing with his curly hair and sunkissed skin and swimming trunks but for once in his life (for some reason) he didn’t say anything and focused on his slice of cake. Sebastian smiled to himself and cut into the soft cake with his fork and took a big bite. He sighed and rolled his eyes (not in his usual surly way but in a ‘ugh this tastes so fucking good’ way) Seb took another bite and all but danced in his deck chair. “This is the best cake I’ve ever had.” He scooped up a forkful of frosting and popped it into his mouth. “And I’m not even saying that to get in your pants.” Sebastian laughed and popped more of the pink cake into his mouth.

The pizza was perfect, too and Sebastian gave Blaine so many compliments on his cooking that he was blushing. Blaine’s flushed cheeks were one of Sebastian’s favorite things about the other boy and he always pointed it out when he could. “You’re so cute when you blush.” They finished their meal and relaxed for a little bit before Sebastian stood up and removed his tee shirt. He threw it at Blaine and winked before jumping into the cold water of the pool. Sebastian hated the cold and the only way to get over it was to get in fast and force your body to numb itself to the feeling.

He floated on his back and stared up at the night sky. The stars were bright and there were fireflies lazily floating around in the Ohio summer air. Sebastian loved summer in Ohio. Nothing could beat the thick heat, cold  lemonade in sweaty glasses, fireworks, the scent of fresh cut grass, chlorine and hot pavement. Now he had Blaine in the summer. His favorite guy and his favorite season. Sebastian thought that this was probably the best summer of his life. He didn’t have to sneak into Scandal’s every night to have a good time and the other boy had shown him that. He was content driving around while Blaine sang him his favorite One Direction songs, Blaine’s smile seemed made just for him in those moments and Sebastian thought that he would probably do anything to keep that smile around.

“Come on, B. The water… well, it’s kinda cold but you’ll get used to it.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine did his best to cover up the blush and the smile that slowly spread out over his face. He was smiling so hard and so big that his face ached with the joy of the feeling and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good. Sure, he’d had good moments with Kurt, he had loved him… but lately all he could remember were the fights and how every good thing about his past relationship seemed to have been marred by some pettiness or disagreement about something Blaine hadn’t done right or well enough or something Blaine had done too well. And of course Blaine wasn’t perfect but Kurt never could seem to let him forget that and… and, not for the first time, he wondered if he should have ended things with Kurt before he mostly only reflected negatively and further if he should have given Sebastian a chance sooner.  He felt the connection between the two of them so strongly, he wondered how he was ever able to ignore it before.

“You don’t have to say that.” He was sure that Sebastian had had better cakes, and probably better birthdays, but he was smiling at him like he hung the moon and the way he savored each bite made Blaine feel a thousand times appreciated and he found it easy to accept the probable fib. And again his face was heated and surely red as Sebastian for the fiftieth time told him he was cute while blushing as if Blaine controlled that. It made him laugh anyway and he found that he didn’t mind.

He watched Sebastian, bold in his confidence, pulled his shirt off and threw it at him. Blaine breath hitched as he let himself really look at him for a moment, appreciating his lithe, lightly muscled form displayed in front of him before Sebastian gracefully jumped into the pool. The pool light below lighting him up and warping his body for a moment before he came back up. Blaine stood up, his fingers hesitating on the hem of his tank top, suddenly incredibly apprehensive to take it off in front of Sebastian. What if Kurt was right and his sweets addiction had caught up to him? Was he hairier than most boys his age or was his stomach not as flat as it should be? He tried his hardest to shake off his fears, Sebastian's beckoning and playfulness winning over in the end. Biting his lip he pulled the garment up and over his head, musing his curls as he dropped it to join Sebastian's.

He wondered what Sebastian saw as he sat at the edge of the pool, his feet dipping in first to test the cool water. Cold, but not unbearable. He scooted himself over the edge and took a deep breath before he let himself drop into the water, not allowing himself time to worry about his hair before going under. He swam towards Sebastian and popped back up right in front of him, splashing at the other boy playfully before nudging him in the side with his hip.

“It’s not that cold, Sebastian.” He teased, his body adjusting to the pool's temperature quickly. He floated for a moment, trying to calm down his pounding heart, the roar of blood in his ears telling him they way they had been acting with each other is so much more than friendship. He splashed at the other boy with a mischievous and admittedly flirtatious glint in his eye. He bit his bottom lip, fighting the giggle that was rising up in his throat and then wrapped his arms around Sebastian and pulled him under, the butterflies in his stomach fluttered against his rib cage from the feeling of his bare chest against Sebastian’s.

“Gotcha.”

Before Sebastian could catch him, he was already swimming away, using the boxing workouts to his advantage, to the shallow end. In one swift movement he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the edge of the pool. He ran his fingers though his curls and slicking his hair back, but he could already feel a few curls springing up. His grin huge and the glint in his eyes clearly daring Sebastian to come get him.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian’s head plunged underwater, his body pressed to Blaine’s as the cold water surrounded him. He could feel Blaine’s strong arms around him, his own arms askew in the pool from the surprise. Suddenly, Blaine swam off and Sebastian popped up above the tiny waves the other boy caused. He ran a hand over his wet face and caught his breath. He watched Blaine swim away and perch on the edge of the pool. He probably could have caught him if he wanted but he let him get away. Seb laughed the sort of heavy laugh one has after losing their breath for a moment and swam over to him. 

Blaine looked great on the side of the pool, the moonlight caught in the droplets of pool water on his skin. His curls already fought against gravity and popped out all over his head, his strong arms accented as they pressed against the tiled pool ledge, his wet trunks pressed against his body in all of the right spots. Sebastian wanted to touch him and the way that Blaine was looking at him as he swam, maybe he felt the same way? They had been holding hands a lot lately and lingering at doorways when they said goodbye. He could feel a tense but exciting air around them the past few weeks but always found himself uncharacteristically nervous when it came to saying bye. What if he kissed him or touched him and Blaine rebuffed it? What if he had been reading all of the signs wrong or Blaine was just trying to distract himself? It wouldn’t be the first time somebody had used Sebastian but this one might hurt worse than the rest because he actually had so much hope buried underneath the butterflies in his belly.

Sebastian decided in his short swim that he wouldn’t get anywhere in life by being shy and just went for it. He placed his body between Blaine’s thighs so that he could look up at the other boy (which was a new but amazing view) and he placed his hands on either side of his thighs. He could hear the sounds of crickets and frogs and summer all around them in a small moment where neither of them spoke. Sebastian bit his bottom lip, his green eyes a little mischievous.

“You know, you look really awesome tonight.” He hoped Blaine knew that he would move if he wanted him to. “Thank you for everything, by the way.”

Blaine’s POV:

The air around Blaine seemed to freeze as Sebastian came so very close to him. Heat was radiating from his legs and belly in the minimal space between their bodies. He wanted nothing more than to draw him closer to him and press his body against his, just to see if it felt as incredible as Blaine imagined it would. His breath hitched at Seb’s words and he swallowed, his eyes wide, as he let the compliment sink into his skin like the drops of water clinging to him. He’d meant to say thank you, he’d meant to say you’re welcome but, his barely there, almost whispering voice had disappeared for a moment at their closeness. He could feel Sebastian’s breath on his face, could make out the vibrant green of his eyes in the moonlight, he had little flecks of blue that Blaine had never noticed before but this close they were so noticeable he wasn’t sure how.

“You- you’re beautiful, Sebastian…” his voice was shaky and almost didn’t make it past his teeth and once it was out he felt a little embarrassed at the way he’s said it, like telling Sebastian Smythe he was beautiful was an original poem that Blaine had written and it was only meant to be performed in hushed tones and desperate pleas as the moon and stars watched and listened. How many other guys have said the same to him? Did he look at them the way he was looking at Blaine now? He wanted to make him forget that anyone else had touched him. The feeling of embarrassment faded away as Blaine reached out with trembling hands and gently pulled Sebastian closer to him, afraid he might scare him away. His fingers grazed his arms and his hands were moving up to rest against Sebastian’s chest for a moment and Blaine could feel the rapid thump of his heart against his fingers, reminding him that Sebastian was real and right here and Blaine ached so badly to know it better. To memorize the rhythms with his fingers. Before he could talk himself out of it his hands were sliding up to his slender neck where freckles dusted like the stars and Blaine wanted to stop and count each one.

He let his fingertips dust over a few before slipping his hands up further where they cupped Sebastian’s devastatingly beautiful face on both sides, holding him like he was precious and it was so clear now that he actually was to Blaine. He looked down from where he was sitting, holding Sebastian’s gaze, searching for permission to explore and getting it in the way Seb bit his lip and tilted his head back slightly, his face open for Blaine. There was an inhale and then Blaine was leaning down and pressing his lips softly against Sebastian’s. His skin felt electric and his eyes fell shut as he pulled back a little to tilt his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue slipped past Seb’s lips and teeth searching for his, barely audible whines of pleasure coming from the back of his throat when he found it.

His fingers slid from Seb’s face and around to his neck, scraping at his hairline before curling against his skin gently, pulling him even closer. He kissed Sebastian like he’d never get to do it again, deeply and with a slowness that made him ache with want and he was all but breathing the other boy in. Trying to convey with each slide of lips and tongue the way he had been feeling over the last two and maybe more months. Sebastian tasted like strawberries and lemonade and Blaine couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive. He wanted Sebastian to feel everything he was feeling. Wanted him to feel how much he was desired and how good kissing him felt for Blaine and god how had he waited so long for this? Kissing Sebastian Smythe felt like something he’d been missing his whole life, he just hadn’t known it. So he drank him in with each second he got to kiss him, his thumbs running slowly over his jaw, fingers still lost in the hair at the nape of his neck. Blaine’s heart swelling with a feeling he didn't know how to name and hammering against his rib cage, his toes curling against Sebastian’s thighs under the water.

Sebastian's POV:

Seb smiled, all of his teeth exposed and his eyes crinkled. He never smiled like that. He always fought against it and chose to smirk or frown or feign indifference most times. But Blaine always brought that smile out and Seb couldn’t fight against it. Compliments sounded so much better coming from Blaine than they did from anybody else. Sure, Sebastian had had plenty of guys tell him that he was hot or great looking or whatever. Nobody had ever said beautiful before. He bit his bottom lip and looked up at him. The butterflies that always seemed to hang around when Blaine was near swirled around in his stomach again and suddenly the other boys hands were on him. Little sparks jumped under his skin and he had goosebumps all over his arms. Sebastian thought he imagined Blaine getting closer until their lips touched and everything felt real again.

Thank god they were in the shallow end of the pool because as soon as Blaine’s lips were on his and his hands were on his neck, Sebastian’s knees went a little weak and he probably would have melted into the water and fell down, down, down, to the bottom of the pool. He couldn’t fucking believe that Blaine was kissing him, that his fingers were gently scraping the back of his neck, his toes against his thighs in the water. Sebastian had never really enjoyed kissing. It was always rushed or messy but this...this was different. Maybe he had never really been kissing before and how was he ever going to want to do anything but kiss Blaine over and over again?

Sebastian’s hands gripped Blaine’s wrists as they kissed. He moaned a little despite himself and his body felt jittery and excited and he was going to need to float in the water for a while to calm his body down. He ran his hands down Blaine’s arms, his sides, down to his waist to gently help him back into the water. Sebastian was taller now and he pressed Blaine against the side of the pool gently as he deepened the kiss again, slow and gentle before he pulled away. His lips were swollen and his smile was so wide it hurt and he laughed, a happy sound that rang out over the pool. Sebastian fell backwards into the pool water with a big splash and stared up at the stars.

“Wow.”

Blaine’s POV:

It was all so perfect, Seb’s little moans with his mouth against his and moving against each other like they’d done it so many times- yet feeling like a first of many, his fingers pressed against his wrists flush against his skin and Blaine could feel his pulse against them. He sighed as Seb’s arms moved to encircle him, a little gasp escaping as he was gently pulled back into the water. And if he thought it was perfect before, it only improved as Seb was suddenly leaning down to kiss him, pressing his shorter body against the pool wall and Blaine could feel his toes lifting him up to meet Seb’s mouth better. His head back and face open and wanting as Sebastian kissed him this time, just as slow and just as deep and he tingles all over and wondered how the hell he’d get out of the pool without making a display of himself.

A noise left his mouth somewhere between a sigh and groan when Sebastian pulled away after a few minutes and Blaine was left empty armed and his lips were swollen with the feeling of Seb’s having just been on his. He was suddenly worried that maybe Sebastian was regretting it, that maybe Blaine had misread everything because why was he so far away now and why weren't they still kissing? He started to worry that maybe it meant nothing. Blaine knew Sebastian wasn’t some blushing boy that pined after him, so what if Blaine was so over the moon about something that was nothing for Sebastian? The thought hurt more than he wanted to admit to himself.

But the look on Sebastian’s face, the radiant smile, the one that showed all of Sebastian’s perfectly imperfect teeth, the one that Blaine had only started to see once they’d become closer, the one Blaine liked to say was just for him- was spreading over his features and Blaine would have given anything in the whole world to make him smile like that again and again. And Seb was laughing and Blaine was laughing, feeling free, like a weight had lifted. His worries once again just floating away into the night sky.

“Yeah… wow.”

He bit his lip, and took a deep breath as he watched Sebastian float just out of his reach and suddenly, and very unwanted- the world came back into focus. He could hear the alarm on his phone going off, the one he’d set in case he lost track of time, as he did with Sebastian. It told him it was almost eleven and he needed to leave soon if he was going to make his curfew. How many cycles had it gone through? Was he late? Normally he’d hate disappointing his mom, but tonight all he wanted was this. He told himself she’d understand as he sloshed through the water to make his way over to Sebastian. His body still embarrassingly respondent to the sight of Sebastian. He told himself he’d get ready to leave the next time it went off. Which meant nine more minutes of possibly doing this again. Nine more minutes of Sebastian in his arms.

“I guess it’s later than I thought…” He sighed, his heart overreacting and aching a little at the thought of having to go. “I want…-” He wanted to pull him back and hold him close, tilt his chin down so he could tip toe up and kiss him again with his arms pulling him against him.

But, he cut himself off, swallowing and trying to quell his worries. The ones that said maybe he was asking for too much, or that he was being too sexual and too needy. Kurt had made comments before that left Blaine feeling insecure about his need for contact and now it was trying to get the best of him. Sebastian isn’t Kurt. You’ve already spent the last ten minutes kissing him, he’s not going to reject you, Blaine. Go after what you want…

Being with Sebastian had made him feel alive and bold the last couple of months and tonight had just heightened it more and while he didn’t know what they were or what was going to come of this- he knew he needed to reach for it. He could feel something pulling him towards Sebastian. Again like a magnet, like a red string of fate and Blaine just couldn’t get enough. He licked his lips and reached for Sebastian for the second time that night.

“I want another one.” It sounded too demanding and he shook his head before licking his lips, softly trying again. “I mean could we… Could I have one? I don’t wanna go home without kissing you again.”

Sebastian's POV:

Seb had so many feelings racing through his body that he couldn’t decipher what was up or down and was thankful for the cool water of the pool, it calmed his mind and his body down a little. There was confusion about what they were because they were obviously more than friends. They couldn’t skirt around that anymore after that kiss. He didn’t feel like Blaine was his boyfriend; what a lame word-boyfriend. Could Blaine just be his person, just be his? There was the excitement because holy shit they had kissed and he had been waiting for that and wanting that for so long. Sebastian couldn’t deny that there was a little streak of doubt mixed in with the giddiness and the hormones and the questions and the adrenaline and the joy. He knew that Blaine’s friends didn’t like him because of the shitty things he had done almost a year ago and that some of them would never accept his apology and no amount of flowers or monetary donations weren’t going to change the minds of stubborn teenagers. What if they talked Blaine out of hanging out with him or pursuing something? Sebastian took a deep breath and focused on the sky again. It didn’t matter because things were great right now and Blaine was there with him.

Sebastian looked up at Blaine as he floated in the water. His wet curls were framed by the night sky and he could just make out the unsure look on the other boy’s face. He never wanted to make Blaine feel insecure or unsure about anything because….well fuck, he was Blaine. Sebastian would have believed you if you told him he had single handedly placed the sun in the sky and lined the planets and cherry picked the stars so that they gleamed just right. He thought that Blaine was just so effortlessly talented and beautiful and charming that he couldn’t comprehend how he ever doubted himself?

He paddled a little so that he could get to a spot where he could get back on his feet and regain balance in the water. Sebastian waded through the water so that he was standing in front of Blaine again. Sebastian liked when  Blaine’s voice sounded bold. He smiled, he hoped that encouraged him. “Yeah. It is getting pretty late though….best kiss me now.”

The two of them found each other effortlessly and kissed like they had been doing this for years. Sebastian wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist, he could feel him against his skin, his face tipped up to erase the distance between them.  Kissing Blaine was like all of his favorite things about summer; hot like the sun, sweet like watermelon and lemonade and Popsicles, exciting like firecrackers, shocking like cold pool water.

Sebastian would have been content if the entire summer felt like this, if every Birthday had a cake and kiss from Blaine attached to it.

/fin.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Black Coffee (part four)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

If you like this, please please please consider reblogging, leaving a comment on Ao3 or even donating to my Ko-Fi

~~~~~~~~~~

Every single time, Vax told himself he was an idiot.

Every time he caught himself staring at Percy’s smile. Every time he’d replay his laughter over and over again in his head as he fell asleep because the sound soothed him so much. Every time he’d sleep over and find himself wearing one of Percy’s shirts in the confusion of gathering up their widely scattered clothes, only to curl up into it tighter, pulling it over the lower half of his face and inhaling deeply, feeling something inside himself unwind at the smell of Percy.

Each and every time, he’d think to himself afterwards: Vax’ildan, you are an idiot.

He told himself it was pointless. He told himself it was a ridiculous infatuation that was only going to get worse the more he indulged it. He cursed himself for a moony eyed teenager, he cursed his blind, ridiculous heart, he cursed his piss poor judgement in growing a silly crush on someone who saw him as a friend at best, a way to indulge a kink at worst and most likely.

But those moments didn’t stop coming. So he remained an idiot.

Another week, another email.

Percy tapped his fingers against the keys, enough to make an irritating noise but not enough to actually make words appear on the screen, as if the right thing to say would just come passively if he made the night motions.

The first part of the email had been easy, congratulating Cassandra on getting through her finals, encouraging her with her upcoming dissertation and exhibition, promising he’d fly out and come to opening night.

The second part was where he got stuck, as soon as he was required to talk about himself. He knew Cassandra would have absolutely no interest in the company, how the profit margins were doing, any reshuffling of the board. Percy was supposed to be the figurehead of all that and even he barely managed to care. He knew she’d at least feign polite interest in the new rotary motors he’d designed but there was only so much he could say about those without attaching blueprints to his response.

And he still felt a panic attack coming on whenever he thought about even trying to tell her about Vax.

At least he had Keyleth to talk to about that. He was getting better at being more open with her, probably thanks to Vax himself. Yet another thing he owed him.

Just yesterday she’d come over for dinner (a dinner that consisted of food from their respective favourite takeaways, he’d never learned how to cook) and Percy had found himself talking for hours about things Vax had said, date ideas that had been his that Percy never would even have dreamed of doing but had enjoyed immensely. Even Vax’s sister had gotten a mention and he’d grinned to see Keyleth’s ears quite literally pick up and her eyes brighten. He quietly resolved to find out if Vex’ahlia was single.

But there were things he couldn’t even tell his best friend or his sister. Things he was still struggling to admit to himself or even give form to inside his own head.

The idea that maybe he was starting to feel differently about Vax. That as fun and exhilarating as the sex and honeymoon dates were, things were changing below the surface.

Percy shifted uncomfortably in his chair, fingers itching to take him back to the dog adoption websites he’d been obsessively browsing lately. But Cassandra had been waiting two days for a reply now and he’d be damned if she was going to beat him at correspondence.

He tapped out a brief reply, one sentence to say work was fine and he was building new stuff, as always then launched into more praise for her recent art pieces she’d put on Instagram. Much safer brotherly territory.

But then there was the last part of her email. The one his brain had desperately tried to slide right off of but had become embedded inside him like a bee sting.

So, I saw the anniversary is coming up next week. I hate calling it an anniversary but you know, there’s no good word for it. I know it’s hard so call me if you want to, okay? Or go to the charity gala, one of us probably should. Just don’t be alone. Promise, Percy.

Of course he’d forgotten, if there was such a thing as wilfully forgetting something. The gala was organised without any input from him, it was a company thing, the purview of their non-profit division. People at work had long ago learned not to bring anything even tangentially connected to the anniversary (Cassie was right, there really was no other word for it) to their boss’ attention.

No doubt the invitation would appear on his assistant’s desk in the next day or so, ready for its annual frosty ignoring before being consigned to the shredder the second the date inscribed on it had passed.

But if Percy was completely honest with himself, as rare as that occasion was, he really didn’t want to face that day alone. He didn’t want to bear it in his usual way. Not that he ever had wanted to get through it by finding a bar and drinking until he passed out but he’d always just sort of sunken into that.

And Cassandra knew it. Hell, she’d been the one who’d had to take a red eye flight to the city and sit by him in the hospital as he’d recovered from getting his stomach pumped last year.

The look on her face when he’d finally woken up and broken down into wracking sobs wasn’t something he ever wanted to see on his baby sister’s face ever again. He wasn’t going to be responsible for adding to her pain ever again.

He finished his email with a single sentence, no context, no other acknowledgement of the hot coals they were both trying to dance around.

I promise, Cassie.

“Holy fuck…I don’t think I have anything that fancy, Freddy,” Vax yelped but he was grinning, excitement already lighting up his face.

Percy smiles, reaching over and tucking Vax’s hair behind his ears, he remembered him saying it annoyed him when it was in his face, “I’ll take you shopping. But wait until you’ve actually been to one of these parties before you thank me for the invite, they’re painfully boring.”

“Probably to you!” Vax maintained his dreamy eyed excitement as he swept his shirt over his head, “I’m gonna drink fancy wine and admire fancy dresses and dance to fancy music. I’ll finally get to use the waltz moves I know.”

“I look forward to seeing them,” Percy let his jeans fall to the floor, “I’ll admit, it might actually be worth my time if you’re with me.”

Vax grins, wiggling out of his boxers, “Freddy, if you need someone to show you that getting drunk in the name of charity can be fun, I’m your man.”

“You are,” Percy’s demeanour became hungry, grinning crookedly as he pulled the now naked Vax against him, spinning him into the shower and under the warm spray of water. The half elf was giggling, legs anchoring around his hips, by the time Percy kissed him up against the tile wall.

It was so easy to smile and laugh and make jokes when he was kissing Vax. It was so easy to forget.

“The car will be here in half an hour,” Percy called out, walking into the living room as he fiddled with his cufflinks. He’d never gotten the hang of these things.

A memory rose up in the back of his mind, unasked for, unbidden. His own hands, awkward and spindly with youth, struggling with a set of cufflinks. Stronger hands, wearing the signet ring that Percy now saw on his own hand every morning, covering his own and guiding them.

Here, son, let me. It takes some getting used to.

Percy cursed as one slipped out of his fingers and hit the hardwood with a sharp crack that rang louder than it actually had been in his ears. The black stone in it fractured, a hairline break down the middle. It must have landed in just the wrong way.

“Whoops,” Vax was suddenly there, scooping up the little shining piece of silver, “Here we go.”

“It’s broken…” Percy frowned, half his brain still somewhere else.

“Not all that much,” Vax reassured him, taking his hand gently and fixing it into place, “It’s still good, see?”

Percy managed a thin smile. It was hard not to smile, seeing Vax all dressed up.

They hadn’t found anything that suited Vax at the place Percy went to get his suits, they’d both agreed everything there was a little too stuffy for his tastes. Instead, they’d turned to Mollymauk Tealeaf, who took the black dress Vax had worn to the ballet and an old suit of Percy’s and made something spectacular.

It was a little bit of both, a black, clinging suit of silken material that flowed down his body as a stunning waterfall of inky fabric, affixed at his wrists to make something not unlike wings. It rippled when he moved and caught the light in the most beautiful ways and made Percy’s mouth a little dry.

It was going to cause a stir, Percy knew with a satisfied smile. It was his name on the silverware, after all.

“You look beautiful,” Percy leaned in and kissed him, quickly so as not to pick up any of his black lipstick. There would be plenty of time to get it in all manner of scandalous places after the party.

“You’re a charmer,” Vax purred, straightening his jacket lapels, “Half an hour, you said?”

Percy could see where his mind was going and he dearly wanted to follow him down that train of thought but he knew letting Vax go into this blind would be a bad idea. So he sighed and gave a little shake of his head.

“Just so you know, love? This night…it’s for the charity that was set up in my parents’ name after they died. Like a memorial thing? So if people treat me weird tonight, that’s why.”

Vax blinked, understandably a little rattled by that, “Oh…right…”

“Sorry,” Percy winced, he couldn’t pretend to be surprised, “That’s a lot to take in at once…”

“Maybe a little,” Vax admitted, hands resting on Percy’s chest, “But…I get it’s a difficult thing to put into words. Thanks for letting me know though, I could see myself putting my foot right in it.”

Percy let himself relax a little into Vax’s contact, safe in the knowledge he’d keep him upright, “All I need from you tonight is to do the exact opposite of what everyone else is probably going to do and not treat me weird. Just…dance with me, let’s make a few people whisper and if you could remind me that I’ve got some pretty amazing sex waiting for me if I make it through tonight, I’d appreciate that.”

Vax smiled and kissed his cheek, “I can absolutely do that.”

“Oh,” Percy hesitates, another wince in his expression, “And don’t let me drink?”

Vax sensed a strong undercurrent of ‘do not ask’ under that so he just smiled and nodded, squeezing Percy’s arm.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, Freddy. I’ll be with you.”

The party was held in a manor house a little ways out of the city, a place that seemed to have been built purely for ridiculously grand parties like this one. The whole exterior was illuminated by soft dancing lights, making the high stone walls, the flowers in the garden, the couples that filed in all look vaguely angelic and otherworldly.

Vax gawked and stared shamelessly as they moved into this other dimension of cream and silk and champagne. Flower garlands grew up the walls and spread curious fingers across the floor, actually growing if you looked for long enough, filling the room with a fresh, clean scent. Glasses were pressed on them as soon as they entered, full of a wine that actually changed as you sipped it, moving along a spectrum of fruit flavours.

Percy politely waved his on.

There was an upper mezzanine with tables, clearly where the food would be served, but the whole lower floor was kept free for dancing and mingling, what most of the guests were actually here to do. Already groups were forming and breaking up in smooth succession, like leaves borne on an unseen current, snagging and being swept on. The rhythm of it all was odd when seen from above, like a sort of dance.

“I do not belong here,” Vax laughed delightedly, leaning against the balcony.

“Count yourself lucky then,” Percy smirks, straightening his glasses, “Looks like I put on a pretty good party, huh?”

“And all without looking,” Vax chuckled, “Very well done, Mr de Rolo.”

Percy puts his hand on Vax’s, “Well, it’ll raise some money at least. Rich people get really generous when they drink.”

Vax took another drink, tasting tart plum this time. He let his eyes rove over the dance floor below, still finding interesting little finishes he hadn’t noticed yet. The way the candles hovered under some spell, somehow knowing where they were needed, following the larger knots of people. The troupe of musicians, sporting everything from sleek Marquetian guitars to elaborate stringed affairs from the Menagerie Coast, whose music could be turned up or down in any listener’s ears as they wished. There were bowls of iced fruit glistening on an array of tables, the perfect thing to snack on when you knew you had a banquet in an hour. No one was dancing yet, the party still being in its fledgling stages but Vax already had a mind of change that. The people here seemed older, the ones here to network rather than relax, but maybe even they could be convinced if they had a good enough example. Vax saw mostly humans though there were a few with the easy, self-confident air of the Aasimar and, of course, the only other race who could look even more self-possessed-

“Shit,” Vax choked out, suddenly drawing back as if he’d been sprayed with scalding water.

Percy turned, suddenly alert, “What? What’s wrong?”

Ashy with shock, eyes roving for the exits and well aware it was too late to pretend the answer was nothing, Vax mumbled, “I didn’t know Syldor Vessar would be here.”

Percy frowned, “I…yeah, he often comes to things like this…I think my father worked with him on a few projects in the past…Vax, what’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” Vax insisted weakly, “Well, no. I mean. He’s my father.”

Percy’s eyes widened behind his glasses. Vax knew he was suddenly seeing matching features, commonalities, making sense of the distinct point to his ears.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you, how could you know?”

Vax was instinctively moving away, acting like a cornered animal, backing up in a secluded alcove. All of the delicately bouncing candles within a five meter radius fled in a heartbeat.

Percy followed, suddenly standing protectively, making himself a shield, “I can have a car here in five minutes, are you okay until then? Or we can just go, we’ll walk a little…”

“No, no…” Vax said quickly, biting his lip, “No, sorry. It was just a shock. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Though it was clear some of the pieces were already in place, Percy asked haltingly, “Was it not…”

Vax pulled a face, “He doesn’t like that I’m trans. He doesn’t like a lot about me, really. And I hate a lot about him. So me and Vex left.”

Anger flashed across Percy’s face, brief but intense, “He what?”

Vax gave a short sigh, “Freddy, three quarters of the people here would probably think he was right. Please don’t go punch him. It won’t win you any friends.”

The anger collapsed under the weight of discomfort, “Oh. I wasn’t going to…”

“Sorry,” Vax shook his head like he was shaking sense into himself, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Seriously, I’m fine. This is your night, I’m here for you.”

“Vax’ildan…”

Vax had his mind made up. It was clear since he’d admitted what this party was for that Percy had taken a long, long time to convince himself to go. He needed to be here, he needed to honour his parents in some small way, even if it was just for an hour. Vax wouldn’t be the reason he caved.

“Seriously, Freddy, it’s fine. The party’s big enough that we can avoid him and even if we do need to say a five second hello…well, fuck, it’s going to actually be fun for him to see me on the arm of someone whose twice as rich as he is. Just don’t tell him I’m technically on the job.”

Percy still looked like he would protest, for honour’s sake, but he let it go and gave a little smile, “You’re not on the job, Vax, not tonight. At least, it doesn’t feel like it. I’m glad you’re here just as my friend.”

Vax swallowed, a feeling he was irritatingly familiar with making its presence known.

Vax’ildan, you’re an idiot.

The party went smoothly for a while.

It was fun, Vax realised, like play acting. Like they’d all raided a parent’s closet for odds and ends, mismatched bits and pieces, makeup that they only had the vaguest idea of how to use but were all having enormous fun enacting scenes from an elaborately illustrated fairy story. They were all aware of the absurdity of it, underneath, but it paled in comparison to the entertainment value.

Vax was reminded of the times he and Molly had gleefully wasted hours in the costume storage rooms of the community theatre, trying on coats that didn’t fit them, hats that were ridiculously small, anything with an excessive amount of beads or sequins, laughing until it hurt.

Quickly and easily, Vax lost himself in the performance of it all. He perched happily on Percy’s arm, always making sure he had a glass at least half full in his hand with which to gesture, listening to the conversations they were pulled into like asteroids being snatched up in the orbits of various planets. They were like a foreign language, talking about places and people he’d never heard of and had to force himself not to laugh out loud at, they seemed so odd. Fortunately, though he hid it much better thanks to years of practise, Percy seemed just as bewildered as Vax did by most of it.

Every so often, he’d interject something, a sprightly little comment or joke, more often than not to save Percy when he’s clearly ran out of things to say. Each new group would look surprised the first time, like they’d assumed he couldn’t talk, like he’d been presumed to be Percy’s handbag or something. But then they’d laugh, either out of politeness or genuine amusement, Vax didn’t care. It was the relieved, grateful little glances from Percy that he cared about.

There were awkward moments, of course, whenever someone he recognised from his and Vex’s years of incarceration with Syldor appeared in that moment’s huddle of listeners. He could see the hesitation on their face every time, the shock, the clear attempt to guess whether the situation had changed, the rumours had been incorrect and he was back in his father’s good graces.

But if any of them had chanced to notice that, despite the undeniable pressure of natural social graces, Syldor and Vax’ildan never ended up in the same circles, they would have had their answer.

There was a moment, in the lull between songs where the chatter seemed to press in a little louder, where Vax had been admiring the flowers again, trying to see if their colours were magical or a feature of the plant itself. His eyes must have slid the wrong way at the wrong time because suddenly he was making direct eye contact with Syldor from across the room. And those eyes were filled with a stunned, scandalised anger.

The part of Vax that was and probably always would be the terrified young teenager who’d lived in fear of those eyes, that look, recoiled in panic. But there was more to him now, a stronger, surer part that simply smiled and squeezed Percy’s arm, prompting him to lean over and kiss his cheek softly. What Syldor’s face did after he saw that, Vax didn’t know.

He didn’t look back.

As if the night couldn’t be more full of surprises, Vax found that his shy, mechanically minded wallflower was a superb dancer.

“You’re a natural!” Vax laughed in delight as they moved in perfect time with the delicate waltz filling the space.

Percy blushed, as Vax knew he would, “I took lessons when I was younger, under threat of having my controllers taken away. All of my siblings did but I think they acquiesced much easier than I did.”

All of your siblings? Vax kept his face very deliberately unchanged.

“The world of dance doesn’t know what it’s lost,” he said confidently, moving through easy, rolling steps around the space. Not many other couples were dancing so they had practically the whole floor.

“Maybe I’m trying extra hard just to keep up with you,” Percy pointed out, tilting his head.

“Ballroom isn’t my thing,” Vax shook his head, “You’ve just got some serious natural talent.”

“Shut up,” Percy laughed coyly but at the very next turn he suddenly dipped Vax low, expertly, in perfect time with the music.

Vax would have kissed him fiercely if he hadn’t been worried any distraction would end with him in a heap on the floor.

Once righted, instead of moving back into hold, Percy paused, taking Vax’s hands in his own, “I...I didn’t think it was possible for me to actually enjoy this night. And I actually kind of have. Or at least, I’ve been able to distract myself enough to…” he flushed bright red, “Anyway. I’m rambling. Thank you, is what I’m trying to say.”

Vax smiled softly, “Don’t mention it, Percy. Seriously, don’t, it looks like you might pull a muscle if you keep trying to.”

Percy snorted at that, “See? This is why I love having you around.”

One of those odd moments followed, the ones where it really felt like someone should have been saying something. A cue had been missed, the progression had halted, empty space that wasn’t supposed to be empty suddenly hung between them.

Percy opened his mouth, looking like he was going to say something but part of him didn’t want to.

And that was when the music stopped, fading into silence in as classy a way as that could be done. Immediately, the people around them began moving back to the mezzanine, apparently all knowing that it was time for food and speeches. Vax felt like he’d missed a memo somewhere.

“Dare me to ask for tomato sauce with whatever fancy stuff they serve?” Vax turned back to Percy, grinning.

As soon as their eyes met, that grin died like a scrap of paper set alight, turned to nothing in half a heartbeat. Percy looked like he was about to throw up, paler even than he usually was, a rabbit suddenly caught in the headlights of a sixteen wheeler.

“Percy?” Vax was alarmed, squeezing his hand, “Percy, what’s wrong?”

There was a clear moment of hesitation, uncertainty, but something seemed to swerve to the left at the very last moment and he fixed a thin, unconvincing smile on his face, “Nothing. I’m hungry, let’s head up there.”

Vax frowned, not sure how he was being expected to believe that but then Percy was moving, taking his hand and leading him towards the stairs without another word. Hesitant to make a fuss, Vax sighed internally and didn’t resist. But he would definitely be bringing it up again on the ride home. Maybe Percy would be able to breathe a little better once it was just the two of them again.

They sat about as far back as they could physically manage without sitting on the floor. Vax was about to ask if they should move closer, surely if it was his company’s whole production, they’d want him visible? His surname was on the logo being projected up on the screen at the front, after all.

But he got the sense that hiding might be the whole point.

There was more fancy wine set out on the table, ones with names even longer than Percy’s. Vax eyed a glass thoughtfully but he had a pleasant, warm buzz going through his veins. Enough to make this party a damn sight more fun but not enough to risk him embarrassing himself. That was a comfortable place to be.

As he was looking, he saw Percy’s hand go out and draw a glass in, a quick, furtive gesture like he was hoping it wouldn’t be noticed.

Vax frowned. He was really getting his intelligence insulted tonight.

“Percy, you said you wouldn’t be drinking?”

Percy’s shoulders tensed, every inch the child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “Just one with dinner. I’ll barely feel it.”

Vax paused, a bad feeling opening up inside him, “You asked me not to let you drink, Percy. There must have been a reason for that. I...I’d feel better if you didn’t.”

That brought Percy’s hand back to his side, if a little reluctantly, accompanied by a defeated sigh, “You’re right…”

Vax bit his lip, that bad feeling growing, “Percy, we don’t have to stay if something’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

He couldn’t read the expression that shifted across Percy’s face in that moment and before he could make any greater effort, the lighting in the room changed and everyone’s attention was politely turned to the front of the dining area, to the lectern before the screen.

An older human man settled there, bringing a neat set of cards from his inside pocket and clearing his throat in the manner of someone who was very comfortable with having about a hundred people listening to his every word.

“Well, firstly, an enormous thank you to all of you. Through your attendance and generosity, we have managed to raise an incredible amount of money to go towards the de Rolo Foundation, even more than in previous years. This money will undoubtedly be instrumental in ensuring those who lose their families to violence have support and care. I am certain the entire de Rolo family would be immensely proud.”

Beside Vax, Percy seemed to sink down lower in his seat as the eyes of everyone who actually knew who he was turned to him in that moment.

“What happened to the de Rolo family was nothing short of a tragedy,” the man continued, voice turning grave rather than celebratory, “Many of you who knew them still feel a strong sense of grief and outrage at how they were taken. Hopefully there is some comfort to be found in the fact that, through our actions here tonight, fewer will suffer as they and their remaining heirs did.”

A picture suddenly took up the screen behind him, replacing the Whitestone logo. Vax felt his chest tighten.

The first of the family in the picture that he recognised was of course Percy. He stood as stiff and aloof as the rest of the people around him who shared his facial features, though he was off to the side somewhat, certainly not the focus, part of the background dressing. There were nine of them, all dressed similarly in what had to be the colours of their family. An older woman and man who were of course the mother and father. The much younger Percy seemed to fall into the middle range of ages. More central was an older young man, placed right between the mother and father. Then a sister. Though they all looked incredibly similar, same angular faces, same hair, most of them wearing glasses, there were two who were identical enough that they had to be twins. That gave Vax a start. A couple of younger siblings too, barely into childhood.

It took him a long time to realise what was wrong, why something wasn’t quite right. And then it clicked, with another unpleasant lurch.

They all had brown hair. Brown as chestnuts, brown as chocolate, brown as mahogany.

And Vax had been picking white hairs off his dark clothing for as long as he and Percy had been an item.

“The loss of nearly the entire de Rolo family was a shock to us all,” the man continued, though his voice seemed further away to Vax, as lost as he was in the picture, “And even worse the years of turmoil that followed before their killers could be brought to justice. Of course we remember and acknowledge the bravery of Percival in his years of ensuring the truth came out and the company could return to his and his sister’s hands. Many thanks to young Percival.”

Vax couldn’t help it, he turned to Percy, confusion and shock on his face.

He wasn’t there. Both he and the bottle of wine from the centre of the table had disappeared.

Suddenly Vax realised everyone was looking at their table, expecting to see Percy as much as he had been, equally as surprised to be staring at an empty seat. There was a long, awkward silence where no one seemed quite sure of what to do.

After a moments carefully considered thought, Vax decided to get up and make a very swift exit.

Night had fallen when none of them had been looking, blissfully ignorant in the shrouds of both magically and mechanically generated lighting. But outside was fully within its arms; the air was chilly, too chilly for evening gowns, the sky was blacker than usual given they were a little outside the city and pierced through with starry pinpoints. The gardens that surrounded the manor had turned to silver and stone, what had been grown looking more like it had been carved or sculpted.

As anxious as he was to find Percy, Vax couldn’t help but feel some relief. He much preferred it out here to in there. In fact, it was only now that he realised he’d practically been holding his breath the entire evening.

He hitched up his skirts with one hand and hurried past flowerbeds and underneath overhead carpets of vine, listening for anything underneath the gentle but ever present trickle of water running somewhere unseen.

The water only seemed to grow louder as he went, naturally pulled into the epicentre of the garden. But underneath it, he managed to pick out a noise that could only be crying, acting as a perfect counterpoint to the rushing and babbling that already filled the space.

It made sense all in the same moment. An enormous fountain sat proudly in the little hidden courtyard that was revealed behind the shrubbery. It’s flow arched into the night sky where it came close to becoming pure moonlight before falling back down into the basin, ready to trace the path again like blood in an ornate, black iron body.

And slumped on the edge of it, sobbing softly with his tears hitting the gravel below like a tiny rainfall, was Percy.

As Vax watched, he groped for the bottle of wine that was resting haphazardly against his legs and drank deeply, an errant trickle running from the side of his lips though he didn’t seem to care. Only when the need for breath forced him to stop did the bottle return to it’s perfectly circular divot in the gravel, not half drained.

Vax lurched forward, forgetting that he’d wanted to make a more gentle entrance, “Percy, no…”

Percy jumped so badly it was a miracle he didn’t pitch backwards into the fountain. That probably would have soured things even more.

“Vax’ildan…”

Wanting desperately to hold him, touch him, fix this somehow but having no clue of how to go about it or if it would even be welcome, Vax just sat beside him on the cold, wet rim of the fountain, eyes wide and sad, “I’m here, Percy, it’s okay…”

“Vax, go back,” Percy croaked, turning his head as if it wasn’t too late to hide the tears, “You don’t have to...go back inside, enjoy yourself.”

“How could I enjoy myself without you?” Vax asked softly, reaching over and taking his hands.

Percy was quiet for a moment before the tears flooded back in with renewed strength, leaving him choking. Vax didn’t hesitate, taking him into his arms, letting him cling on as tight as he needed to. It was hard not to cry himself, listening to the agony that came pouring out like poison from a wound. It was so clear that years and years worth of pain had been locked inside him and were leaving him in one rush.

All he’d been missing had been someone to hold him, someone to tell him it was okay, someone who would say here, hold on to me, it will end.

How long had Percy been living without the reassurance that if he cried, someone would hear him?  

It could have been a lifetime before the tears finally ran their course, Vax didn’t care. But eventually Percy was left choking on air rather than salt water, chest heaving as his body dragged in deep breaths to replace what he’d lost.

“Easy, nice and easy,” Vax encouraged, placing a hand on his back, “You’re okay.”

Percy seemed to be calming down for a few moments until his eyes bulged suddenly and he threw himself to the side, vomiting copiously into the fountain.

Vax winced, reaching over quickly to save his glasses that were about to slip off, “Yeah, we’re never getting invited back…”

“Good,” Percy panted weakly, managing to right himself, “This whole night was a mistake. I don’t know why I keep trying to make this day anything other than a fucking disaster.”

“Well...I think that might be reasonable,” Vax said placatingly, “Given what I’ve come to understand about this day…”

Percy hunched in on himself, guilt clear as day on his face, “I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. It’s just...it’s so hard to say the words out loud…” This voice grew dangerously thick and fragile.

“Darling, I understand,” Vax murmured, hand making slow, comforting circles across his back, “I’ve been there.”

That caught his attention. Vax hesitated, ready to see the same pity and condolence he’d been seeing in everyone’s eyes for years, the kind that made him feel vaguely ill.

But it didn’t come. The two men looked at each other the way two people who had been blindly fighting their way through a storm would, when they suddenly reached the eye at the very centre and, in the silence, realised they hadn’t been as alone as they thought.

“Who?” Percy asked softly.

“Our mother.”

And just like that he could see her face again, he could hear her voice, feel her fingers combing through his hair. Vax’ildan had a strong, deep resentment of every single piece of his DNA that had come from Syldor bar one. Whichever piece had given him an elf’s exceedingly good memory. Otherwise, who knew how much of his mother he might have lost.

Percy’s hand took Vax’s, fingers threading together, holding on tight. Vax managed to smile, even if it was a little shaky.

Nothing else came of that but both knew it was okay.

“I...I just didn’t expect all that,” Percy finally admitted, sighing deeply, “I didn’t expect the speech about them, actually talking about what happened...but it was, um, the picture. I couldn’t take that.”

Vax nodded slowly, “Have you not…”

Percy shook his head quickly, “No. Even looking at my sister is hard. It must be the same for her, I guess that’s why she ran to the opposite end of the country.”

Vax gently leant his head against Percy’s shoulder, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

There was a long pause before he could find the right words. Having to open up something you’d hidden away for years wasn’t a simple task, not when every nerve in your body is screaming at you to do the exact opposite.

“I don’t really know what exactly my family did to piss them off,” Percy eventually began, “I don’t want to know either. I don’t care how it started, I care that it’s finished.”

“Who’s them?”

Percy swallowed hard, “The Briarwoods.”

Then it all came out, disjointed and rambling and disconnected but Vax edited it in his own mind after the fact. How one night at dinner after the family had welcomed two guests, a married couple of wealthy socialites, into their home Percy had begun to hear screaming.

He couldn’t remember a lot of the details, which was understandable and probably merciful. What he did remember was the sound of gunfire, muffled barks of exploding muzzles echoing through the hallways of the family home. He remembered blood pooling on the hardwood floors. He remembered pleading. He remembered laughter.

The only thing he could then say for certain was that he ended up outside, running for as long as his body could physically manage before collapsing at Keyleth’s door, his friend from school the only person his fevered mind could think to turn to.

When the sun rose the next day, every paper and news anchor in the city was reporting that his entire family had been killed in a robbery gone wrong. Everyone save himself, who was missing, and his youngest sister Cassandra, who was saved by the intercession of those same guests, the Briarwoods. He recalled a tearful Delilah Briarwood on the news, saying she only wished they could have done more.

In the exact same voice Percy had heard laughing in the blood spattered hallway.

Percy wasn’t fit to leave Keyleth’s sofa for the next few months, nearly broken clean in two by grief. So everything just happened around him, the grateful Cassandra signing over the family’s entire holdings to the Briarwoods in the absence of her brother, the whole company being seized, the locks on every property the de Rolo’s had owned being changed, barring Percy from any kind of financial help.

When he was finally well enough to open his eyes, to face the world around him, he found that he was completely and utterly abandoned by it.

Vax tried to absorb all that, heart hammering in his chest, “So...what did you do?”

“Kiki was happy for me to stay with her but…” Percy pulled a face, “I wasn’t fit to be around anyone. I wasn’t well, I was...drinking a lot. She kept trying to get me to go to therapy but that would mean people knowing I was alive and, with the Briarwoods still out there, with all of the money and protection I’d lost, I didn’t that that was such a good idea…”

“How did no one know?” Vax felt anger in the back of his throat, “Didn’t they investigate? Work out that the people who were pretty much strangers that had come to the house might have had something to do with the murders that happened that very night?”

Percy shrugged, “They had magic and money on their side. Delilah was a powerful magic user but...well, I doubt it was ever really needed. You’d be surprised how much suspicion and supposed authority can be turned aside by putting coin in the right pockets.”

Vax scowled down at the stones, feeling the injustice but also the truth of that burn in his chest. He’d seen Syldor do it enough times.

“So...I got a job as a mechanic. My father had always told me my tinkering would be nothing but a distraction but it was what got me through those years. That and not caring that the cars I was fixing were obviously stolen and I was being paid off the books.”

“Seriously?” Vax couldn’t help being a little impressed by that.

Percy gave a wayn smile, “If any police officer had looked in my workshop, they’d have found enough to put me in jail for a very long time. But bribery is not just the purview of the rich, thank the gods…” he looked back at his hands, “So I spent a long time not being Percival de Rolo. I just made as much money as I could, tried desperately to keep myself alive and spent years thinking of how to rescue my sister and make the Briarwoods suffer.”

The tone of Percy’s voice in that moment worried Vax, his smile falling into a concerned frown, “Understandable…”

Percy didn’t seem to pick up on it, “I was going to do something stupid. Very stupid. But fortunately, despite my being a shitty friend and all round terrible person, Keyleth stuck by me. She convinced me to hire a lawyer instead, do it through the courts. Gods, it was a nightmare. It took years longer than I wanted it to, I was on the verge of tearing my hair out or just finally drinking enough that I’d never wake up again.”

Vax’s stomach dropped.

“But then I’d think of Cassie,” Percy’s voice quietened, “How she must have felt as alone as I did. How I couldn’t let her down. Gods only know what they put her through while they had her, she won’t talk to me about it. Every second I was wasting feeling sorry for myself and falling asleep in gutters was another second she was under their power. And if I died then...then her hope died too.”

“But you did it,” Vax said quietly, squeezing his hand, “I’m not a big news watcher but I remember it a little now, I just never connected it to you. How you got the Briarwoods convicted, got custody of your sister back, everyone saw them for what they were. I remember everyone talking about how you were a hero, Percy.”

Percy grunted, nudging the wine bottle over with his toe so it’s contents spilled across the stones, “Maybe. But there’s still days I wonder if I wouldn’t have been happier just building myself a gun and shooting them both in the heart.”

“You wouldn’t,” Vax said firmly, turning him a little so they were facing each other, “And you didn’t. And that makes you better than them, Percy. That’s what makes you a hero.”

Percy managed to meet his eyes, though he still looked so young and so scared, “Then why does it hurt so much?”

“Because what happened to you was awful,” Vax said without hesitation, touching his face with a gentle hand, “It was unimaginably awful, most people couldn’t have survived it. And you’re allowed to feel that hurt. You’re allowed to cry. But I promise, one day, this pain will be manageable. You’ll be able to carry it.”

“How?” Percy whispered brokenly, desperation in his eyes, “I...I just can’t see how. I’m not strong enough.”

“I’ll help you be,” he murmured, stroking his thumb back and forth across his cheekbone, “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Percy swallowed hard, resting his forehead against Vax’s for a long moment. Sometimes words just weren’t enough.

Eventually he mumbled, like a child tired after a long day, “I’d like to go home now.”

“That sounds good to me, darling,” Vax smiled, “Let’s go brush your teeth, huh? Cos your breath is really...interesting right now.”

Percy laughed weakly, letting the half elf pull him to his feet, “Wine and vomit. Sorry your sugar daddy turned out to be a huge mess.”

“Ah, I’m sure there’s way worse than you out there,” Vax put his arm around the taller man, glad then he was wearing heels or the effect would be a little ruined, “And you have better reason than most.”

It took a few moments for their car to be brought around to the front of the house. A few moments to sit in a stronger breeze and catch their breath, to let the tears dry on Percy’s cheeks and for them both to realise that they’d had nothing to eat all evening and would definitely be stopping for a McDonalds on the way home, if they could convince their chauffeur to go through the drive through.

Feeling more exhausted than he ever had in his life, feeling like he might be on the way towards some kind of healing, Percy murmured, “You know...sometimes I think Percy de Rolo died that day too. Like I haven’t been myself since.”

Vax looked over at him, through his rapidly unravelling hairdo, strands of black hair falling into his eyes. The party behind them, faint with distance, had become just a soft background to their soft little moment.

Vax’ildan you poor fucking fool.

“I like who you are now, Percy.”

[latchingontoallofyou]

Valenna -Grip Strength

It’s been a little while since they were both home together. Val had been off teaching at a few DWM studios. Jenna opted to stay home this time. She was tired and she felt bad leaving Ziggy so often. And really, she just missed her home. Their home. Val was coming home tonight, and she couldn’t wait. All she wants is a simple night at home. Pizza and a movie. Or maybe Chinese food. She’d leave that up to him. She knew he loved scary movies. She’s really not a fan of them but she can always seem to make it through them with him. She is always pretty terrified but somehow make it through.

She can’t help it but she keeps glancing at the clock to see how much longer until he comes home. It wouldn’t be much longer now. She finds their favorite blankets and piles them on the couch. She moves the coffee table closer to the couch, just as Val likes it. He likes to have more of his legs on the table. She just likes her heels on the table. Being the gentleman he is, he leaves it where she likes it. But tonight, it’s all about him.

She found a new horror movie and queued it up to the TV. Ziggy had gone outside so many times today but one more time couldn’t hurt. She found his leash and called him to her. He came barreling, happily jumping around until he saw the leash in Jenna’s hands. He stopped jumping and looked away.

“Come on Zig, let’s go walk.”

He lied down and looked away. It was his own way of rolling his eyes at Jenna and her antics.

Jenna huffed and bent down clipped the leash to his collar. Ziggy tried to pull away, but she was successful.

“Come on Zig” she says and pulls on his leash. Ziggy didn’t budge. She pulled again and he slid across the floor without getting up. She couldn’t help but laugh even though she was frustrated. “Ziggy let’s go!” she says stricter this time. He still doesn’t budge.

“Fine!” she says as she bends down and unclips the leash.

Once free, Ziggy runs off towards their bedroom. Even he didn’t want to be around Jenna. She just needs Val home.

She flops down onto the couch and pulls out her phone. Instagram would be her distraction. Well at least she hoped so. She still couldn’t stop from looking at the time while she scrolled. She was just about to lose it when she hears a car door close. She freezes, waiting to hear the front door. Instead, she hears another car door. Disappointment fills her. It’s probably their neighbor with kids.

Jenna throws her head back and feels the tears starting to dwell in her eyes. Her phone is tossed onto the couch beside her. The silence is killing her. She goes to push off the couch and turn on some music when she hears the front door handle jingle and then the door open. She flings herself up off the couch and barrels through the house to get to the front hallway. She even beats Ziggy, who was closer to the door than she was when they heard the door.

“Baby!” she squeals while she runs.

Val drops his bag and opens his arms just in time to catch Jenna as she just into him. He wraps his arms around her and laughs, kissing her cheek. Jenna feels her tears fall from her eyes. She clings on tight to him, breathing in his scent that she has missed so much.

“Hi babe” he says, smiling against her cheek.

“I missed you.”

“I couldn’t tell” he laughs.

“It’s not funny” she says pulling back from him. She pulls her legs from around his waist and puts them on the ground.

“Sorry. I love you. I really wasn’t gone that long though Jenna. I mean, I missed you too but…”

“It was long enough. And I had to wait all day for you to come home. That was the worst. Ziggy wanted nothing to do with me. He wouldn’t even go on a walk with me.”

“Ziggy loves to walk” He says looking down at Ziggy, waging his tale at their feet.

“Well, I mean, he did walk today. Maybe too many times?”

“How many times did you take him for a walk today Jenna?”

“I lost count.”

“Jenna…”

“Um, maybe 5 times. I tried again a few minutes ago but he wouldn’t go. He threw himself down on the ground, practically rolling his eyes at me. When I tried to get him to walk on his leash, I may have pulled him across the floor a little before I gave up.”

“Jenna!” Val laughs. “You were really that bored?”

“Yes! What else was I supposed to do? I picked our movie, but I couldn’t start it without you. I’d be way too scared. Playing on my phone only lasted so long. I just wanted you home.”

“I came home as soon as I could.”

“I know you did. It’s ok. I survived.”

“Barely, it sounds like.”

“It doesn’t matter now. You’re home. Now, pick what you want for dinner. I bet you are hungry.”

“You’re starving, aren’t you? Did you eat anything today?”

“Yes, but this is not about me.”

“Coffee doesn’t count, Jen. We’ve talked about that.”

“I had more than coffee. I had a bagel this morning. I had an apple earlier. I had some chocolate at some point today…”

“So, pizza it is. You won’t eat enough Chinese food to make up for it.”

“Wings?”

“You got it. Bread sticks?”

“If you want them” she says trying to hold back a smile.

“I’m going to go change, maybe shower. I’ll order while I’m up there.”

“Care if I join you?”

“You’re really that bored?”

“Yes!”

“Alright, come on.”

~

The pizza came soon after they had showered. They had devoured the food rather quickly and were now stuffed and settling on the couch. They were leaning into each other, shoulders touching, holding hands. It was the only way she was ever able to make it through horror movies. This way she could squeeze his hand has much as she needed to, and she could still turn into him and cover her face when she just couldn’t watch anymore.

She covered herself up in her favorite blanket and Val had her other favorite on his lap where their hands are resting. Val’s legs are up on the coffee table. Jenna’s are hanging down for now.

“You sure you want to watch this babe? It’s scary.”

“You love them.”

“I know but you don’t.”

“You worked hard and now you are home. Tonight, is about you.”

“So, then I can choose to change the movie?”

“No! I’ll be fine. I’m with you. You always make it better. I can make it through with you.”

“Ok, if you are sure. If it gets too much, we can turn it off.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, settle in then. Let’s get started.”

“Do you need a drink first?”

“Do you?”

“No…” Jenna says, sounding unsure. “I’m good too.”

Jenna settles into him further as he starts the movie. Her heart is already beating fast and nothing has happened yet. He rubs his thumb against the back of her hand, trying to calm her. It wasn’t very successful.

As the movie progresses, Jenna gets more and more worked up. This is probably one of the scariest movies they have watched together. Every part of her body hurts from being so tense. Her heart is racing so fast, like she would be if she had been dancing for hours without stopping. She’s tired from being so tense and afraid but she can’t close her eyes. Val, on the other hand, seems unfazed.

As scared as she was, she couldn’t seem to look away. It had all of her focus. It was like none of her senses were working. Like the only thing her brain could focus on and give input to is the movie and her fear. What she didn’t know was how hard she was squeezing Val’s hand. That was until he screamed out in pain and pulled his hand away from Jenna’s grip.

“What happened?” Jenna asked unbeknownst to what had just happened.

“I think you just broke my hand…” Val said as he held onto his left wrist with his right hand. He’s turning it to look at both sides, as well as trying to open and close his fist. It isn’t working very well.

“What?”

“You were squeezing my hand so hard and on that last jump out, you squeezed even harder that I think you broke my hand” he says and starts to laugh.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried. You didn’t hear me. It wasn’t that bad until now.”

“Val, I’m so sorry! This movie was so scary. I didn’t…”

“I know. It’s ok. Can you get me some ice? I think it’s starting to swell.”

“Yes!” she says and flies up off the couch and runs to the kitchen and grabs one of their ice packs from the freezer and then a towel before rushing back to him with the icepack wrapped up. She thought about laying the icepack on his hand but didn’t want to hurt him anymore

“Um, here” she says handing him the icepack.

“Thanks babe.”

She hangs his head and can’t seem to look at him anymore. She turns the TV off but still won’t look at him. She’s so upset with herself that she was so scared and sucked into the movie that she didn’t know she was hurting her husband. She moved to the other end of the couch, so she wasn’t touching Val in anyway so that she doesn’t have any chance of hurting him anymore.

“Jenna, why are you down there?”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Jenna, you aren’t going to hurt me.”

“But I did.”

“It’s ok Jen. It’s not like you meant to do it. You didn’t even know you were doing it.”

“That’s the worst part of it” Jenna cries out with tears in her eyes.

“Jenna, please don’t be upset. I’m not mad. Not at all.”

“I can’t help it! I hurt you!” Her tears are really flowing now.

“Jenna, baby, come here” He says, letting the icepack fall as he opens his arms to her. She shakes her head at him, not wanting to come any closer to him.

“No” she whispers.

“Jen” he says softly, putting his arms down and just holding out his right hand.

“Let me see it” she asks softly.

He carefully holds out his left hand. It’s even more swollen then before. It’s already starting to bruise. It’s throbbing and he can move it even less than before. Jenna carefully moves down the couch and looks it over, not touching his hand at all.

“Turn it over.”

He follows her command and flips his hand over so she can see his palm. He can’t help but wince in pain. Twisting it definitely hurts. He’ll be very surprised if it’s not broken. There is even bruising on the palm of his hand.

“Put the ice back on” she says with tears starting to slide down her cheeks again.

“It will be ok Jen. I’m ok” he says as he gingerly lays the ice on the back of his hand.

“You are not! I broke your hand!” she says as she gets up from the couch. His eyes follow her as she goes into the kitchen and grabs another icepack and towel. When she comes back, her tears are gone. “Your palm needs ice too. I need to go get dressed. We are going to the hospital.”

“Jen…”

“Don’t Val. We are going. You need x-rays. Probably even a cast.”

“I was just going to ask you to get me a shirt.”

“Oh. Right. Ok.”

As Jenna runs off towards their room, Val takes the chance to look over his hand. It doesn’t look great. He can’t help but laugh. He knew Jenna was strong, but he didn’t realize she was that strong. He snaps a picture and sends it to Maks and a few of his buddies. They all texted back asking what happened, but he just said he’ll explain later.

Maks, not liking that answer Val guessed, called him but he just ignored it because he heard Jenna coming back out. She comes running over with his shirt.

“Put this on. I just going to gather a few things before we go.”

“Jenna, relax.”

“Val, stop it. I broke your hand. How can I relax?”

“Ok, fine. Just take a breath please.”

She rolls her eyes as she rushes off again. He takes the time to text Maks to tell him he promises to tell him what happened later and not to call Jenna. Maks asks if Jenna knows and he assures him that she does and to please not text her. Maks agrees.

Jenna comes back out of their bedroom with their iPads, and battery packs. She puts him in her largest purse and then grabs a water bottle and fills it up before putting that in the bag as well. A few granola bars are added to the bag as well. She then grabs two new icepacks out of the freezer and comes over to Val.

“Trade them out. Those won’t be cold by the time we get to the hospital.”

He takes the ice off his hand and swaps out the icepacks, giving them to Jenna to put back into the freezer.

“Are you ready to go? She asks.

“Yea.”

“I’m sorry” she says as he stands.

“Don’t be. I’ll be ok.”

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey, you just didn’t know your own strength. Now we know.”

“Not funny” she says with a smile but can’t hold back her giggle.

“Yes, it is” he says with a laugh.

“Ok, it kinda is. How are we going to explain this?” She laughs as they walk out the door and head to the car, Jenna getting into the driver’s seat after helping Val buckle into the passenger seat.

“Are you feeling ok” she asks as she pulls out of the driveway.

“Yea.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yea, kinda.”

“We should have given you some medicine.”

“No, they’ll give me something there if I need it. I’m ok.”

“The ice is ok? Not too heavy?”

“It’s ok.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that Jenna. It’s ok. I’ll be ok.”

“I can’t stop. I really am sorry.”

“I know you are. But seriously, no more.”

“I’ll try but I can’t promise.”

“Ok, I’ll take that.”

“We’re almost there.”

“Ok.”

Jenna is quiet as they finish the drive to the hospital and then park. She unclips his buckle and then hers before going to open his door and help him out. He is already climbing out when she comes around.

“Babe…”

“Jen, it’s my hand, not my foot. I can get out of the car.”

“Just be careful. Ok?”

“I am.”

“This is not where I thought we’d be spending our night tonight” she mumbles as they walk in.

“What was that?” Val asks, stifling a laugh.

“Shut up, you heard me.”

“Hey, at least we are here together.”

“Not alone” she mumbles under her breath.

“Maybe we should get your mumbling problem looked at while we are here” he says with a laugh. “It’s rather hard to understand you tonight.”

“Shut up!” Jenna says through her laughter.

They are just getting themselves together when they get inside the emergency room and head over to the check in desk.

“Hello, how can I help you.”

“Um, I think I broke my hand” Val says.

“Name please.”

“Valentin Chmerkovskiy.”

“Oh” the receptionist says looking up at him for the first time.

“Hi. Would you like me to spell that?”

“Um, yes please.”

He spells out his name as she types it into the computer without looking away from him. She seems quite starstruck.

“How did the injury happen?”

“Freak accident” he says looking at Jenna.

“You can tell her.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“We were watching a scary movie and she squeezed my hand a little too hard.”

Jenna closes her eyes and throws her head back in embarrassment.

“That’s more common than you think it would be. Did you take anything for pain?”

“No, we just iced it. We left the ice in the car.”

“Oh, I should go get those” Jenna says.

“No, it’s ok. We can get him some. If you can fill these out, I have someone bring you some ice. I’ll work on getting you in a room quickly.”

“Thank you” Val says taking the clipboard of papers before going to sit down in the waiting area, away from as many people as possible.

“Do you want me to fill them out?”

“I can still write Jen. I’m right handed, not left.”

“I know but…”

“I’m ok Jenna.”

“Ok.”

He works on the paperwork and just like the receptionist said, someone brought him some more ice. His hand was still really swollen and even more bruised. He is still working on the paperwork when a nurse comes and takes them to a private room. His vitals and temperature are taken with a promise that a doctor would be in shortly.

“I never did ask you, how did you last class go this morning?” Jenna asks when they were the only ones left in the room.

“It was really good. Not too big of a group. I could really connect with this group. Probably the best class of the trip.”

“That’s awesome!”

“They asked about you.”

“Yea?”

“Asking where you were. Asked for me to tell you hi, so hi” he laughs. “Some may have asked if there was some new to share about why you weren’t there.”

“They did not!”

“They did. I assured them there wasn’t.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re going to get a lot more of that now that we are married.”

“Oh, I know. Linds says that a lot.”

“We’ll just have to come up with creative ways to answer.”

“I like it” she smiles. “You ok?” she asks concerned as he shifts on the bed, wincing in pain.

“Yea. Just uncomfortable and then I bumped my hand.”

“I still can’t believe this happened” she says with a laugh this time.

“Right! Glad you can laugh about it now.”

“We are far enough away from the event now for me to see it was pretty funny. Of all the ways to break something, possibly break something, squeezing your hand during a movie is not how I would expect you to end up with a broken bone.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t had more broken bones than this.”

“Me too!”

“There’s a first for everything.”

“What about the season?”

“I’m sure I’ll be healed by then. Maybe I’ll just need a brace for the start of the season or something.”

“I hope that’s the worst case.”

“Me too.”

“I brought our iPads. We could watch a movie while we wait.”

“No more scary movies.”

“I just downloaded chick flic movies. I know I won’t hurt you with those”

They both laughed as she pulled up the movie. They only got 10 minutes into it when there was a knock at the door. Jenna paused it as someone entered the room.

“Hello! How are we doing in here?” a cheerful voice says as they enter the room.

“Hello. We’re doing alright.”

“I’m Doctor Reynolds. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Val and this is my wife Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you both. What seems to be the problem tonight?”

“I broke his hand” Jenna pipes in before Val could answer.

The doctor laughs before saying, “How did that happen?”

“We were watching a scary movie and…”

“Say no more. I get it. Squeezed too hard, huh.”

“Yea” Jenna says blushing.

“You didn’t know your own strength.”

“I said the same to her earlier” Val says with a smile.

“Let’s take a look. May I?” Dr Reynolds asks pointing at the ice around his hand. Val nods and he gently removes the ice and lays it on the table beside the bed. He gently touches Val’s hand and then turns it over to look at both sides. Val winces as he touches it. “Can you move it much?”

“No, not really” he says and shows how much he can move it.

“I think you are right. I think you may have some broken bones in there. Nothing that can’t heal quickly and nicely. I’m going to have you get x-rays to get a look and see what we’ll do to stabilize it. OK?”

“Yes, thank you sir.”

“It shouldn’t be too long, barring any emergencies.”

“No problem. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be back after your x-rays. Can I get you anything?”

“I’m ok.”

“Did you get any pain meds?”

“No.”

“Oh man. I’ll give you some. You’ll probably want some for the x-rays.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

A nurse came in a few minutes later to give him some pain meds. He didn’t realize how much he was really hurting until the meds started kicking in. He was able to relax so much more. By the time they came to get him for his x-rays, he was feeling practically no pain and was feeling pretty exhausted. All the travel, dancing, and pain was doing him in.

Jenna had to stay behind when he was taken for his x-rays.  She didn’t enjoy it at all. She wanted to be at his side the whole time. She took the chance text her friends. She sent a group text saying, “Would anyone believe that I have a strong enough grip strength to break someone’s hand?”

Lindsay was the first to respond asking, “What did you do???”

More and more of her friends start asking the same questions. She couldn’t think of a good way to respond. She also realized she probably shouldn’t say much without Val’s permission. She decides just to reply with two words – Horror movie. They would all get it from there. They all know how she does with them.

She starts to waste some time on her phone while she waits for him to come back but she’s having trouble keeping herself awake. Her eyes are heavy. Really, her whole body is heavy. She leans back in her chair, resting her head back, while trying to keep scrolling but soon she abandons the phone and just closes her eyes.

Without realizing she had fallen asleep; she awakes to a blanket being put around her. She sees a young nurse from earlier laying a blanket on her.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I came to tell you your husband is on his way back from x-ray. I know it gets chilly in here so I figured you could use a blanket.”

“Thank you. You’re so sweet.”

“I’d want the same done for me. Can I get you anything? A snack, a coffee? Anything?”

“I’m ok. Coffee at this time would not go well for me. I have snacks and water in my bag. Thank you so much though.”

“Of course. Just let me or any of the other nurses know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you. Wait, what’s your name?”

“Teagan.”

“Nice to meet you Teagan. I’m Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you Jenna” she says as she heads out of the room. “Oh, here he is.” Teagan holds the door open as Val is wheeled back in the room. He looks exhausted and beat down.

“Hi baby” Jenna says sweetly.

“Hi” he smiles.

“How’d it go?”

“Ok, I guess” he says

“Was it painful?”

“Yea.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“What did I say about that Jenna?”

“But I am!”

“I know!” he practically yells. “Sorry, I’m so tired. If that hadn’t hurt so much, I would probably be asleep. I will be seriously surprised if there is nothing broken. It’s fine though. Please don’t stress over it.”

“Can’t promise that.”

“I know. Can you just come lay with me?”

“There is not enough room for the both of us.”

“Yes there is. Please?”

“Ok” she says and stands up from the chair and carefully climbs onto the bed beside him. He scoots all the way over so that she can just fit on the bed next to him curled into his side while laying on her side. She is very careful of his left hand resting on his stomach. He starts playing with her hair, which is how she know how exhausted he is. It’s his favorite way to fall asleep. Just as his hand starts to slow and relax, there is a knock on the door that makes him jump and moan in pain.

“Val, how you doing in here?” Dr Reynolds asks as he comes into the room.

“Ok. Tired but ok.”

“How’s the pain? I can see it on your face.”

“I was falling asleep when you knocked so I jumped and that hurt my hand.”

“Oh sorry. I forget how late it is sometimes. But otherwise, you are doing ok on pain?”

“Yes. The x-rays definitely hurt but I’ve been ok on pain.”

“Well, let me show you why it hurt so much” he says and turns the monitor on. Up pops the x-rays of his hand. You could see a break right away.

Jenna gasps and covers her mouth as she climbs off the bed and sits back in the chair beside the bed. She’s trying to hold back tears.

“I’m guessing you see the break?”

“Yes” Jenna says quietly.

“It’s not a terrible break. It’s actually a pretty clear break. It shall heal very nicely. There are actually two breaks. That big obvious one and then there is a smaller break down here” he says pointing closer to the wrist.

“Who knew you had that much grip strength” Val laughs.

“Not funny, Val” she whines.

“It was earlier.”

“Well, now it’s not.”

“The good news is the bones are in the right places so there won’t be any resetting needed. We will give you cast here tonight. It will just be a soft cast because of the swelling. You’ll have to make an orthopedist appointment to get your hard cast in a few days. In the meantime, you need to ice, elevate and rest so you can get the swelling down enough.”

“I can do that. I’m due for some rest.”

“You sure are and I’ll make sure of it” Jenna says.

“Great. I’m just waiting for the orthopedist to come down. She was just finishing with another patient. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Anything else we need to do before the next appointment?” Val asks.

“Not really. Oh, don’t get it wet. You can put a bag over it when you need to shower.”

“Oh, right. Thank you.”

There is a knock on the door and a new doctor comes in.

“Ah, Lauren, we were just talking about you.”

“I hope good things.”

“Yes, just saying you were on your way.”

“Here I am. I’m Dr. Sailor. You must be Val.”

“I am. This is my wife Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you both. You obviously have some broken bones. The breaks look great. Nice and clean. I’m here to cast you so you can get home. It’s late and I bet you are tired. The little girl I saw last cried the whole time, more out of exhaustion than anything.”

“Poor girl. How old was she?” Jenna asks.

“6.”

“Poor baby. I’m going to put a splint on your hand and down your wrist just to keep everything in place.”

“Ok” he says as she sets the splint on his hand and starts to wrap his hand in gauze.

“It may get itchy but please don’t stick anything in there to scratch it. It can cause all kinds of issues.”

“Right. Ok.”

“And remember, this is a soft cast. It protects your break but not as much as the hard cast will so be careful. Do you have anywhere you have to go in the next few days?”

“Possibly some work meetings.”

“Ok, we’ll send you with a sling. Keep your hand elevated as much as possible. Lots of ice too.”

“We can do that.”

“Great. Any questions for me?”

“Do you have any recommendations for orthopedists?”

“Yes, I’ll give you a list before you go.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright, you are all set on my end. I will write a script for some pain meds. Take it as needed. It’s nothing too strong but it will do the job.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll send the script and the sling in with the discharge papers.”

“Thank you so much” Val says and holds out his hand to shake her hand.

“Have a better night you too. It was nice to meet you both.”

“You as well. Thank you for all your help.”

~

“Babe, I’m so exhausted” Val as they walk into their house later that night. It is 2:30 in the morning at this point and they are both just done.

“Go climb in bed. I’ll go get new ice and come up to bed.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Val makes his way up the stairs with his eyes half closed. He musters up enough energy to get his shirt and shorts off before going to quickly brush his teeth and use the bathroom. When he comes back out of the bathroom, Jenna has come up and has changed into her pajamas.

“Getting toothpaste was hard.”

“I would have helped you.”

“I know. Next time.”

“Here is your ice. Get in bed. I’ll be right there.”

He does as he’s told, not having the energy to fight it. She isn’t long in the bathroom, having not put on makeup today. She turns off the main light before climbing into bed, thankfully on his right side. He already had his left resting on a pillow with is ice on.

“Do you want me to rub you head?” Jenna asks.

“No” he whispers.

“Goodnight Val”

“Goodnight Babe. I love you.”

“I love you too. Sleep well.”

Val slept alright that night. He woke up a few times when his hand was sliding off the pillow causing pain. He would just adjust his hand on the pillow and fall back asleep. Jenna woke up at different times to check on him, but he was always asleep that time.

When they were both awake for good the next morning, after Jenna had given him some more ice and pain meds, they lay in bed just cuddled together.

“So, did you tell anyone?” Jenna suddenly asks.

“What?”

“About your hand. Did you tell anyone?”

“I sent a picture to some of the guys and my brother right after it happened. I didn’t explain anything. They all wanted to know what happened, but I didn’t say anything. Maks called me when all I said was that I’d explain later but I ignored the call.”

“I texted the girls when you were getting x-rays asking if any of them could believe I have enough grip strength to break someone’s hand. They all wanted to know what happened but all I said was horror movie.

“I guess we have some explaining to do then” Val laughs.

“It’s so embarrassing though!”

“It’s impressive.”

“I guess it’s just depends how you look at it” she says with a smile. “Can I say sorry one last time?”

“Nope. I got it the first million times you said it.”

“I didn’t say it that many times.”

“Sure feels like it” he laughs.

“Oh no.”

“Who’s gonna call Mama?”

“Crap.”

~

Yea, yea. I know it’s been a really long time. I didn’t realize how much I missed this until I started writing this the other day. There could be more to come...

[truemanblack]

A/N: Damn criss back at it again with another story!! It’s true! I’ve had the writing bug for months now but no inspiration - this one is normal ass harry pre-tour. I got the idea from  ‘Location’ by Khalid. I’m still using Aimee because I have her developed for Harry - so don’t confuse them with The Marriage (tho she’s pretty much the same lmao). I would love feedback tho - I’ll have the next chapter up later today as well (and for the marriage too) x ((also this is short because it’s just a prologue)) 

📍 Location: Amelia Ellis dropped a pin in Kingston, Jamaica. (GMT -06:00)  I don't wanna fall in love off of subtweets so, let's get personal

📍 📍

We met in a fever haze, maybe it was heat, maybe it was rum – couldn’t decide what my excuse was. I needed to get away from my friends on my own, I tended to enjoy being alone. I found myself at some bar in the middle of Kingston, Jamaica. He offered to buy me a drink, I was too busy ripping the wet label off the IPA I was drink, as well as drawing on the corner of a napkin. Scruffy, Hawaiian shirt, probably a bit stoned. I couldn’t say no to a free rum punch? Could I? Maybe it was because the conversation just rolled, I was the joke he already knew the punch line too and I just played along. 

              “What’s your sign?” He asked, and I bunched up my nose to suppress an laugh, a very 90’s pick up line.

              “Libra, ten days before Halloween,” I answered, and he rose one of his eyebrows with a smirk.

              “Witchy.”

I’m gonna blame it on the gin next, the next few drinks were up to him. I wasn’t a fan of gin but if it kept him talking, I’ll suck it up. The air was thick and humid around us, I felt sticky, he was touching my knee, he felt sticky, I was touching his arm. I was hoping this led to a cool story I could tell my kids one day, he was kissing my neck. I’m blaming the music now, we’re on the dancefloor, our hips are grinding against each other as slow R&B music played around us. He wasn’t a good dancer, neither was I.

              “Can I have your number?” He asked pulling out his phone. “I hope you have international.”

              “Of course,” I grinned taking his phone and imputing his number. “I’m Amelia by the way, I prefer Aimee.”

              “Harry,” He grinned looking at me confused. “You don’t know who I am?” I handed his phone back to me and I shook my head.

              “Am I supposed to know?”

              “No, I’d rather show you instead.” I giggled and started shaking my head. I needed to get back to my friends. I was only a few blocks from my hotel.

              “Listen, Harry, I gotta get back to my friends.”

              “I’ll walk you.” I nodded, I wasn’t going to push a no out of my mouth. Maybe because it wasn’t sitting on my tongue like a ‘yes’ was. The air was salty from the ocean. We walked in silence, fingers tips dancing against each other, teasing the innocent act of holding hands. The golden light of the street lights and the moon being the only way I could focus on his face. He had a nice profile, I could draw it all day. I hope I woke up to remember it, perfect lines of his nose, plushy rosey lips. I was focusing on his hand now, his knuckles were blushing, as if they were taking place of his cheeks. I felt myself blushing thinking they were blushing because he wanted to touch me.

I wasn’t normally like this, again, it’s the gin. It’s the warm rum sitting in my stomach, it’s the moonlight, it’s the streetlights, it’s the R&B music. It’s not us. It’s not me. We reached the hotel, my eyes itching to look at his lips, he was licking them. His hair was messy on his head, a few curls sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

              “This is me,” I broke the bubble, maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have let it disintegrate naturally like bubbles do. He smirked, he was sexy, I could see he was tired.

              “This is you,” I couldn’t pin point where his accent was from in the U.K. maybe I should listen to all of them youtube until I find it and lock into a place in my brain. “I’m gonna kiss you, because if I forget to text you, I can remember a kiss.” Smooth. Maybe not a smooth as butter, but still smooth.

              “Okay,” His lips took over mine. His gin-soaked lips, tasted like lemon. It was burning, like the shots we took. Our lips knew each other in a past life, I could predict his next move as if I was good as chess. His hands were on my face now, mine around his neck. Then it stopped. He was looking at me, he has green eyes. Of course, he does, no one like this could have boring brown eyes like me.

              “I’ll text you,” I nodded at his words, and his hands moved off my face. I was biting at my lip, maybe clinging on to his past kiss. I didn’t know what I was doing, I’ll be blaming it on everything but myself in the morning. I watched him walk away from me, he was tall, like a foot above me. Maybe less than that, still tall nonetheless. I felt jittery, my sundress was clinging to my torso, were we standing that close, so I would sweat there? Maybe it was the dancing, I’ll blame the dancing. This is one for the books, I wasn’t normally like this.

Unknown number: Hey Unknown number started sharing their location with you.

[writing-radionoises]

Wifi Connection

Hi! I'm Stan Marsh, I'm sixteen, male, and questioning my sexuality! Looking for friends :) He swears he's scrapped and retyped the exact same sentence over and over, wondering if it was good enough for his Instagram as he sat in the corner of his new and empty room, silently. Stan Marsh, sixteen, male, questioning. Stan Marsh, sixteen, male, questioning. Stan Marsh, sixteen, male, questioning. The info is ingrained in his mind, almost wishing he still lived with his dad so maybe he could break in and steal some of his wine or something. Stan Marsh has lived in South Park all his life, his mother eventually divorced his drunk of a father and moved far away from South Park, though. Stan, his mother, and his sister have been living in New York city for about a month now. He starts school next week, and honestly, there is nothing Stan was more scared of currently. For the first time ever, Stan Marsh was about to do something without Kyle. His very best friend, who was stuck in South Park with his dad and all his friends. His entire life, since fucking diapers, Stan and Kyle have done everything together. Hell, the ginger was the reason he began questioning his sexuality. Probably the same reason he even discovered his love for music. After moving, the only contact he has left with his very best friend is through Skype. Even so, it was rare he was able to talk to his ginger friend. And when he did, Kyle was often joined by his little brother, Kenny, or sometimes even Cartman. Sure, Stan was just happy to end to see his friend at all, but really wished he could talk to him in private, or even face to face again.   A knock on the door startled the noirette as he looked towards it. "Stan, dinner's ready and on the table. Come down when you feel like," said the soft voice of his mother. "Okay, I'll be down soon," he responded, falling silent until he heard his mother walk away from the door, then standing up. He scanned the empty room, his eyes then landing on the guitar in the corner, then picking it up. It was covering in little stickers, along with a signature from his father and one from Kyle. Kyle's handwriting was curvy, lots of loops and such. His dad's signature, which had been signed with his stage name, is much more messy. It resembles his own handwriting, the lowercase letters looking more rushed, the capital letters barely even looking like letters. Without even realizing it at first, his hands began to half-mindedly pluck at the strings, forming some kind of melody that eventually brought words into his mind. Placing the guitar aside and jumping up, Stan rushed to find a notebook and pen, beginning to scribble down music notes and lyrics. It was a strange feeling to actually be able to write a song, or anything resembling it, for the first time in many, many months. Kyle used to help him, writing down lyrics and guitar chords when he played. They'd look over songs together, Kyle pointing out good things about the songs and such to outweigh the negativity Stan pointed out. It was a nice memory. Laying in the curly ginger's lap, holding up sheet music and blabbering on and on about how bad it was, how he'd never be like his dad or anything, only to be shushed by the other and be told how beautiful his voice was because it was his voice and no one else's. It was well past his normal bedtime by the time Stan actually felt satisfied with the lyrics and music, though he cared not. In the morning, Stan was awoken by his sister, who was saying something he couldn't quite comprehend. Though, he sat up from sitting on the floor, rubbing at his eyes and standing up. He walked downstairs and grabbed the cup of coffee on the table, taking a sip as he looked around the kitchen, figuring his mother was already at work. "Dad called you earlier. I don't know what he want'th, but thoguht you might wanna known," said Shelly, practically ripping her hair out instead of brushing it. Stan nodded, heading upstairs to hole up in his room once again. He opened up his laptop, logging in and quickly regretting so as he saw his background, biting his lip. It was one of the very last pictures he had of his group of friends. Kenny sat on her knees in the snow, her hood down and long, blonde hair a mess as she smiled widely. Cartman laid against Kenny, looking bored as he fiddled with his gloves. Standing above Kenny and Cartman was Stan and Kyle, Stan clinging onto the shorter one for balance. Even though it was likely he was at least tipsy during that photo, it's definitely his favorite. The noirette opened Skype, the app already on Kyle's profile. Super Best Friend // You are you, and that's what's amazing about you <3 A slight smile came to his face as he remember what he set Kyle's name as. The last conversation they had was about how Cartman seemed to be bullying Kyle even more now that Stan was gone, to which Stan quickly ignored the responses to avoid a mood drop. Not Craig's brother: Hey Kyle, you awake? I wanna show you something. After sending this message, Stan looked through his other friends' profiles. Best Girl // You're pretty either way! Stan smiled a bit, he could  almost hear Kenny's optimistic and bright voice once again, yelling at Cartman about something. The last conversation being about her saving enough to finally get top surgery. Fat tits // Not sure if I'm mentally or physically ill but it's all good Cartman wasn't the best to talk to, sure, but it was nice to actually see his contact. Though, it's pretty clear he isn't usually active on Skype. When he is, he mainly just spams his contact list with a bunch of memes or something. There was a bing that brought Stan back to reality, quickly going back to Kyle's profile. Super Best Friend: Hey! Good morning :) Super Best Friend: I'm home alone for awhile, so sure! Not Craig's brother: Okay! Give me a moment, I'll call you Stan stood up and grabbed his guitar once again, along with the sheet music he'd written last night. He set the stuff behind his laptop, backing it away from his body as he called the ginger. Kyle immediately answered, a bright smile on his freckled face. His red hair was a mess, as always, though it made Stan want to brush it, run his fingers through the other boy's hair once again in some attempt to tame it. His green eyes glittered with tiredness, yet happiness. Obviously, Kyle had just woken up. He was still in pajamas and clinging onto a pillow. Stan waved. "Good morning sunshine, you obviously look the best right now," he snickered softly, to which Kyle shrugged. "Man, you've seen me look worse. We used to have sleepovers like every weekend, and that included weekends where I felt fucking awful," he answered, Stan nodding in understanding, "Though, good morning to you too." The noirette smiled, suddenly being brought back to reality once again as Kyle asked what he wanted to show him. Stan gave a soft "oh," then grabbing his guitar and sheet music from behind the computer. "I . . . Ended up actually writing something last night instead of trying to drown out my thoughts, haha . . . I'm really used to showing you my work, so I thought you'd like to hear . . ." He drifted off into thought, brown eyes looking off into a distance. The two fell silent for a moment before Kyle spoke once again, "Of course I would, I'm always eager to see what you've done with that guitar of yours." Stan nodded once again, taking a breath before beginning to play the tune he had written down. "I knew you once, and it was nice. I knew your brain and your heart, all your insides. Oh, I could tell, just with a look, what you were thinking. That's all it took. You shared your secrets, and I shared mine. Silence was comfy, without having to try . . . We swapped our smiles, gifted advice . . . Yes, I knew you once. And it was nice . . ." The ginger stayed in awe at the words, his green eyes wide open in slight shock that the noirette even wrote something like that. For about as long as Stan had been doing music, Kyle had known him to do complicated songs, similar to things you'd hear on the radio. Yet, somehow, a song so short and soft seemed to bring more emotion than all his past songs combined. "Stan . . . You should start posting songs on the internet. You could get money out of doing this and maybe . . . Maybe . . ." Kyle drifted into thought, biting his lip as Stan tilted his head to the side. "'Maybe' what?" He questioned. "And maybe you could come back to South Park."

Song: I Knew You Once - Dodie Clark 

[berevityandquiet]

the breakup

i’ve been talking about this fic off and on on twitter.

i was really, really inspired by Obsession by mcgenji on ao3 - i looovvee that fic, it’s got such an amazing grasp of emotion. it’s a real breath of fresh air in writing in my opinion. 

this is, of course, an unedited drabble bc when have i ever finished a fic. 

He tells him “it's over” over lukewarm cups of coffee.

Time doesn't really stop as much as it does slow. It's late evening, there are a few clouds in the sky. It may rain soon – the weather's been fairly temperamental lately.

“I'm sorry.” Genji says quietly. He won't look Jesse in the face – eyes studying the grain on the wood table, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Jesse hears the reasons why. The standard “it's not you, it's me.”, the “I still want to be friends”, the “I just don't think this will work.” He hears ten dollar words that just scream “boredom” and “dull”, and christ it hurts and yeah, in his brain, he knows that's not what Genji's saying.

But it's what it feels like.

“Please understand-” Genji starts again, starting to look up, but it's all Jesse can do to not just walk out.

So he puts his hat back on his head and slaps on the biggest grin he can and says

“Aw, it's all right – I gotcha.”

“You do?” Genji continues to cry – Jesse wants to. Wants to curl up in bed and bury his head in his dog's fur and cry until he's bled dry, but he doesn't. He grips the back of the chair and pushes it slowly back in place.

“'Course I do. Friends?”

Genji actually smiles. Soft, watery-eyed, and miserable, but he does smile and says, “Yes. Yes of course.”

And Jesse takes his leave under the guise of “Gotta run, gotta go to an appointment.”

He walks home in a daze, enters his apartment, and doesn't leave for three days.

- - -

“I'm sorry.” Sombra says softly – there's no mockery in her voice. Instead, it's...sad , “You guys were so-”

“Somb. Please.” Jesse grits out, gripping her thigh. He's got his head in her lap, staring at the ceiling, his beard wild and unkempt, “Please just...don't.”

And so she doesn't – she turns on Netflix and they spend the night quietly watching crime documentaries and eating greasy pizza.

- - -

The first few days are hell.

The next month is hell.

Genji wants to be friends, so they stay friends. A week after The Incident (so-dubbed by Sombra), Genji texts him hello.

It takes him half a day to respond. But eventually, he replies “Hi!” with a smiley emoji. All he wants to be is left alone, but Genji was part of his life for years.

He's still in love, he repeats every night, staring up at the ceiling and running the moment over and over and over in his head. So many things left unsaid, so many loose ends. In his dreams he drops to his knees and begs and as he brushes his teeth, he daydreams lines: “That's fine, fuck you too” or “Yeah, I was getting bored too” or even “Please, please don't let this be the end for us.”

He sits in his room and listens to more Mahler than his healthy. That is, until Fareeha storms his apartment, steals all his cd's and tells him he's not allowed to listen to the “sad stuff” anymore.

And then he listens to Debussy.

And Davis.

And Frank – and Parton. And Collins and Gabriel worms their way in, calling to the Solsbury Hills and the Odds respectively.  His house virtually becomes a museum to music, because that's what he's always clung to in times of hardship. Clung to it when his parents divorced, clung to it when his dog died, clung to it when he lost his arm and he clings to it now, as he throws away pictures of Genji and him, deletes them off his phone. He can't stand to look at them anymore, can't fight the metallic-y, blackberry taste in his mouth. Dolly sings about Jolene and  here he is, sobbing about a lost love – the irony is palpable.

- - -

The first month is bad. And then it becomes... okay.

- - -

“Look, you've been stuck in your house all week.”

Lucio stands in the doorway, a crutch wedged in the space between. He won't go away, no matter how many times Jesse tells him he doesn't want to go out, “It's not healthy man. You're gonna die in there and stink up the joint.”

“Thanks.” Jesse grumbles, half hidden behind the door.

“You know what I mean.” Lucio frowns (and wow, it looks so...unnatural) “I know you're in a bad place, but you've gotta walk outside sometime.”

“I walk outside.”

“Walking back and forth to work doesn't count.” Lucio rolls his eyes, “As your friend, I'm giving you fair warning – you either come with us, or I send Jamie in here and you'll have to fend him off.”

“You are such an ass.”

“You'll thank me.”

The threat of having Jamie “Junkrat” Fawkes rolling into his apartment is enough to make him toss on some jeans and join his friends for a night.

And so they paint the town red.

First by going to the all-night grocery shop and pushing Hana in the cart through the isles, laughing amongst each other at the bizarrely overpriced items and buying way too much candy. And then sit at the towns square, hanging on the fountain, shooting the shit, and throwing pieces of candy at one another. Hana turns out Queen too loud and a passing police officer frowns at them, but it's summer and the entire town's outside enjoying the clear sky.

Sitting with his friends, watching the stars crawl across the sky, the ache goes from a sharp stab to a dull ache. He almost feels normal again – Jamie falls into the fountain and they get yelled at by the same passing officer who tells them “Act like adults!”

They all snigger behind their hands as he storms off – he's on one of those roomba things, what are they called again?

(“A segway, dummy.”

...he'd had that fight Genji.

It was entirely in jest – but it was their second date. They were going to this high-end Italian place that Jesse had to fight tooth-and-nail to get a reservation at. Jesse couldn't remember the name of the machine, so he juggled between “them scooter motherfuckers” and “them roomba fuckermothers” and Genji...

Genji had laughed so hard he had to stop and catch his breath.

In the end, the Italian food was so bland they'd left the restaurant and got McDonalds and sat in the booths and stole each other's fries)

It...didn't hurt as bad to remember that. Stung, just like an old paper cut stings when you turn it wrong but...not as bad. Jamie shakes the water off and gets drops everywhere and Jesse takes a moment to look down at his phone.

Genji S. - 10:45 PM

You guys look like you're having fun.

Jesse looks up, looks around and catches Genji's eye as he walks out of the bakery across the way. He's out with Angela, both of them ladened with brown paper bags.

(Probably full of those donuts he likes so much, Jesse thinks briefly)

Genji smiles and waves at him.

Jesse forces a smile and waves and turns back to the group, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. He doesn't invite them over – neither do his friends, who all wave and yell “Hi!” and Genji...

Genji waves back and follows Angela back to his car.

It's an awkward moment – they're all friends, technically, all part of one group. They're not taking sides – neither Jesse or Genji would want that.

(But deep, deep down, Jesse hopes they would pick him. Genji probably thinks the same.)

Lucio swipes the phone from Hana and tells them that he's been working on a new tune and quickly turns to his youtube page, blasting his music.

The papercut sting spreads.

But Jesse's okay.

- - -

“You sure I can't drive you home?”

Jamie's boyfriend is tall and intimidating, but his voice is soft as he speaks to Jesse.

“Naw. I only live five minutes 'way, I'd be wastin' yer gas.” Jesse waves him off, plopping his hat back on his head, “'Sides, it's one hell of a night. I wouldn' wanna miss this for the world.”

Jesse sees Hana and Lucio's car pulls out of the parking lot and Jamie is dozing in Mako's passenger side seat.

Mako nods and then Jesse's alone once more.

- - -

On the walk home he pays Pearl Jam and walks around his neighborhood until all the lights in his apartment die down.

- - -

The one thing they never tell you about a breakup is that it's really no different them coping with the death of a loved one.

It's the death of a relationship. The death of something you grew and cultivated for a significant amount of time – of course you would need to grieve.

And just like grief, you don't just go through each step in a row. Occasionally, you go back and forth, ping ponging as your brain struggles to cope.

Jesse's finding himself in anger now – that bitch, that whore, after all he's done, all he's given up. He storms around his apartment and throws books off of shelves, grabs a bottle of whisky and slams it on the floor.

He curls on his couch and clutches his pillows as his dog slinks up to him, terrified, and licks his bare arm. In one motion, Jesse reaches out and grabs the pup up, burring his face into Soldier's fur.

It's one of those lines that play in his head over and over and over, until he can't take it anymore.

We can still be intimate.

Like that's all Jesse wanted in the first place. Like that's all he cared for when they were together. Like that was what Jesse wanted from Genji in the first place.

We can still be intimate.

The idea makes Jesse sick.

And moreso, it makes him angry.

Was that really all Genji saw in him? The entire time they dated, did he really think that's what Jesse cared about? Not about his family, not about his hopes and dreams, no, just his ass?

Jesse cries into Soldier, falls asleep with the dog licking his tear stained face.

And in the morning, he gets up slowly, opens his window to the sounds of the street, and cleans his apartment up as best he can.

[knites]

A Close One

Read it on my ao3 here!

Summary: Twenty-three year old Bruce is new at being a dad and is learning how to balance parenting and being a billionaire philanthropist playboy. He ends up taking his six year old to a cocktail party despite Alfred's protests, and runs into some trouble. Naturally. Rating: G Warnings: None Category: G Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Relationship: Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennysworth, OCs Additional Tags: Dad Bruce Wayne, Younger Bruce, Little Grayson, Young dad Bruce does his best to raise Dick, Some angst, batfam, good ol’ grandpa Alfred Language: English

“Master Bruce, are you sure that this is a good idea?” Alfred covers his mouth to cough into his hand, his voice barely above a raspy whisper. “Really, taking master Dick to an adult cocktail party? At this age?”

“It’ll be fine, Al,” Bruce says as he smooths some wrinkles out of Alfred’s comforter, trying to make sure that he’s comfortable. “Really, I won’t be there long. The party starts at 8, we’ll leave at 10 –his bedtime. It’s hosted by Jacob Rulk, I thought I told you about him. He’d be a really good business partner to have, so I’m hoping to rub elbows with him tonight and talk more about it.”

“You’re hoping to talk business at a party hosting this year’s Vanity Fair model lineup and a wet bar?” Alfred demands. He knows Bruce is 23, but he expects more maturity out of him at this age.

“Yeah! Why not? Dick will be a hit with the ladies,” Bruce says with a smirk.

Alfred rolls his eyes just as Dick pokes his head into Alfred’s bedroom. “Are we going now?” Dick excitedly jumps up and down in the tiny tailored and pressed suit Bruce dressed him in for the night.

“Yes, yes, we’re going now,” Bruce gets up to pick up Dick as he runs into his arms. “Don’t you look dashing tonight? Huh, Al?”

“Absolutely charming,” Alfred sighs, not wanting to cave, but it’s true. The child is absolutely adorable. “You had better keep an eye on him. If I find out he’s had even a sip of scotch…”

“God Al, what kind of guardian do you think I am?” Bruce says as he tosses Dick up in the air, making him squeal.

“The kind who just got his bachelors a year ago,” Alfred says, but Bruce doesn’t hear. Or if he does, he doesn’t act like it.

“I’ll catch ya later, Alfred,” Bruce holds Dick under an arm in a way that makes Alfred’s blood pressure rise with worry. “We gotta leave now if we’re gonna make it by 8. I’ll text you on the way back, but really, try and sleep. We’ll be fine.”

Dick waves at Alfred from over Bruce’s shoulder and Alfred sighs again, feeling the Nyquil start to take effect.

“I want cookies!” Dick shrieks from his car seat.

“Dick, for the last time, I don’t have cookies. You can have some tomorrow, baby.” Bruce says, already thinking of Alfred.

“But Alfred, Alfred said that I could have some today!” Dick protests. Bruce looks in the rearview mirror and sees tears forming in the kid’s eyes. His heart twists; he considers Dick’s tears his only weakness as Bruce and as Batman.

Dick’s protesting devolves to wordless crying and Bruce wracks his brain for any way to get him to stop. “There might be cookies at the party, Dick! There’s no need to cry.”

“Really?” Dick sniffles and wipes his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Bruce hopes to God that he isn’t lying to Dick. “There’ll be cookies and juice. But they only give it to kids who don’t cry, alright?”

“O-Okay…” Dick says, calming down.

Bruce sighs and puts on The Lion King soundtrack for the rest of the ride to ensure that Dick wouldn’t start another tantrum. He’s heard the entire soundtrack at least a million times, but he doesn’t really mind. It’s catchy.

The valet takes Bruce’s bugatti after Bruce takes Dick out of the backseat, still humming I Just Can’t Wait to Be King to himself. He’s relieved to see that Dick is in a much better mood and holds his hand as they walk into a rented conference hall. Bruce hears the music before the doors open and Alfred’s words of protest revisit him. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea…

Dick clings to Bruce’s leg as they move through seas of people. Bruce pats his head to comfort him and walks toward a table with different horderves to get Dick’s promised dessert. Bruce picks up Dick and holds him on his hip so the kid can get a better look at the food. He smiles as he watches Dick’s expression brighten. “Look, see? They have cookies. Which do you want?”

“Chocolate chip!” Dick sings, enjoying the fact that he’s allowed to be loud with so much commotion around him.

“Alright, here,” Bruce hands him the cookie just as Jacob Rulk comes up to the table to nab something from the chocolate fountain. Bruce quickly puts Dick back on the floor again before he takes a few steps forward and introduces himself. “Mr. Rulk! Hi, I’m Bruce Wayne, pleasure to see you again,” he extends a hand out to the suited man.

“Bruce Wayne! Hello, good to see you,” Jacob gives Bruce a firm handshake and sees the child standing next to him. “Is this your son?” He asks, seeming a bit perplexed.

“Uh, yes, my babysitter got sick at the last minute.” Bruce says. Dick looks at Jacob with wide eyes and a mouth covered in crumbs.

“Cute little thing, isn’t he? Planning to have a drink tonight too, little guy?” Jacob tries to pinch Dick’s cheek but he deftly dodges the older man’s fingers and moves closer to Bruce.

Bruce chuckles politely at Jacob’s joke which he doesn’t really find all that funny. “No, but I’m sure he’d love some orange juice.”

“They might have some at the bar. They might use some as a mixer.”

“Thanks for the heads up. Actually, we’re probably not going to stay that long anyway. I just wanted to swing by and talk to you about that offer you were telling me about a couple weeks ago, if you remember.”

Jacob takes a moment to remember. “Ohhh, yes, yes. The one about making real ‘ideal’ transformers.”

“Yes, exactly,” Bruce smiles, relieved that Jacob remembered. “I’m really impressed with your prototypes. Normally you’d expect some sort of energy loss with any transformer, but these are pretty close to ideal draw ups.”

After a few more minutes of talking, Dick is finished with his cookie and feeling thirsty. Not to mention bored with all this boring stuff the adults are talking about. He grabs a fistful of Bruce’s jacket and pulls. “I’m thirsty.”

“Yes and– hold on a minute, Dick. I’m talking right now.” Bruce taps Dicks hand to make him let go.

Dick growls to himself and crosses his arms, disliking the dismissal. It isn’t fair that orange juice was just mentioned and he doesn’t get to have any. He remembers hearing something about a bar and looks around. He can barely see anything through the forest of legs, but Bruce is busy ignoring him. He can find his own way. Dick makes his way around the adults and looks over his shoulder; Bruce and Jacob are still talking and neither had noticed him walk away. This only makes Dick more annoyed, and he continues his trek.

A model at the bar is surprised (understandably) when a six year old child climbs up on a barstool next to her. She looks around, wondering how a kid got into this party and impressed with the fact that he’s wearing a suit.

“Do you have orange juice?” Dick asks the bartender over the music.

The bartender freezes and shares a bewildered look with the model next to the kid. She puts a hand up and shrugs. She doesn’t know him. Nevertheless, she decides to keep her eye on him while the bartender puts a big glass of orange juice in front of him. “You can put it on my tab,” the model tells her. The bartender raises her brows, but doesn’t protest. Dick smiles at the model while he takes a big sip of his juice through his straw.

“What’s your name, buddy?” The model leans closer to Dick so she can hear him better.

“Dick Grayson,” he tells her, unreserved. “What’s your name?”

“Esperanza Martinez,” the model responds. “Are your parents here?”

“Esperanza? That’s a cool name,” Dick says and keeps sipping on his juice. “And yeah, I came with my dad.”

“Thank you,” Esperanza smiles and looks around for someone who looks like they’ve just lost a child. Who the hell would bring their kid to a private cocktail party? “Do you know where your dad is?”

Dick shakes his head. “He was talking to some other guy but I got thirsty, so I went to go find some juice. He said they had orange juice at the bar. I know what a bar is because my dad has one in his house and he told me what it was before. He has a million cups in it. Alfred cleans them. He’s our butler.”

“Oh, wow…” Esperanza chuckles, sounding impressed. This kid’s cute. She figures she’ll just sit with him until she’s able to help find his dad. Her eyes scan the crowd again but she doesn’t see anyone who could be a lost parent.

“Um, did you know, that my dad, Bruce Wayne, he sings all The Lion King songs for me?” Dick starts talking again after he’s finished most of his juice.

“Does he?” Esperanza giggles. This kid is Bruce Wayne’s son? She starts to wonder how responsible of a dad the young billionaire is if he’s letting his child run wild at a cocktail party.

“Yeah! And he lets me call him Bruce Wayne. Sometimes I call him papa, but I think that Bruce sounds better. Everyone else calls him Bruce.” Dick chatters away.

“He does?” Esperanza keeps up a positive attitude for the kid; he doesn’t know any better and seems sweet. “You got some chocolate on your face, baby,” she wets her napkin and wipes Dick’s face for him.

Dick tolerates it because he’s decided that he likes Esperanza. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s because Bruce gave me a cookie earlier.”

“No need to apologize, honey,” Esperanza says. Her heart’s been stolen by this little kid in under 10 minutes. “It’s okay. How’s your juice?”

“Good,” Dick says with a yawn. He’s finished with it now.

Esperanza ignores a man who tries to chat her up and checks her watch. 10 o'clock. “Are you tired, honey?”

Dick nods and leans his head down on the counter. Suddenly everything sounds too loud and all the lights are too bright.

“Oh, don’t put your head on that, it’s dirty. If you’re tired, I’ll take you back to my table. I left my jacket with some friends. You can use it as a blanket.” Esperanza rubs his back comfortingly.

Dick feels comfortable enough with Esperanza that he decides to trust her. She bought his drink for him and sat with him. She’s nice. “I want my dad…”

“Ay, I know, baby. We’ll find him.” Esperanza stands and holds her arms out for Dick. “I can carry you if you like.”

Dick leans into her arms and puts his head on her shoulder. He closes his eyes and remembers how his mom used to hold him before he lost his parents.

Esperanza rubs Dicks back as she carries him back to her table, which wasn’t too far away from where she had found Dick. She looks around while she walks, starting to worry. What if this larger-than-life Mr. Wayne fucking forgot about his kid? She can’t take care of him forever, as much as she would secretly like to. She reminds him of her daughter. Esperanza can’t stop thinking about how she’d lose her goddamn mind if she ever lost her daughter at a club. Though, she’d never in a million years bring her daughter to a club. She lets Dick sleep on her chest and puts her jacket over him, explaining the situation to her friends and keeping watch at the table.

After half an hour passes, a man pushing through the walls of people catches Esperanza’s attention, and she stands.

“Excuse me, sorry, have you seen a kid about yea high? He’s six. He’s wearing a suit. He’s got brown hair and blue eyes. He’s the sweetest kid in the whole world.” Bruce frantically tells anyone who’ll listen. He’s given up trying to keep calm. He’s been looking for Dick for an hour, running up flights of stairs and different rooms, trying to hold off a panic attack all the while. Alfred was right. He was being irresponsible by taking Dick to this party, he should’ve listened to him. Alfred was always right. And now who knows what happened to Dick. Someone could’ve taken him away and stolen him from right under his nose, just like his parents all those years ago. His parents hadn’t been his fault, but Dick’s disappearance was completely preventable. Bruce’s chest feels tight and he’s breathing too hard. Adrenaline is making his hands shake.

Dick’s gone. It’s all his fault.

“Are you looking for someone?” A beautiful model with brown skin approaches Bruce holding a peacefully sleeping child in her arms.

Bruce’s eyes lock onto the child and he immediately recognizes Dick’s sleeping face. “Yes, yes! That’s my son! Oh, Dick. Thank God.” Bruce finally feels like he can breathe again as he takes Dick from the model’s hands. She looks him over with a critical eye at first, but then her expression softens.

“I found him at the bar. He was ordering orange juice.” She says with a smirk.

“Orange…? Oh my God…” Bruce sniffles and wipes the tears out of his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I looked away for a second while I was talking and he was gone. I thought…”

“It’s okay,” Esperanza says, glad to see that Bruce upset over losing his child, even if bringing him to a party was a dumb idea, in her opinion. “I’m just glad we found you. He said he was missing you.”

Bruce squeezes Dick tightly, never wanting to let him out of his sight again. Dick groans in protest at Bruce’s too-tight hug. “Stop squeezing me…” he says sleepily.

“Dick, why did you run off? I was so worried.” Bruce huffs and tries to level his breathing again.

“You wouldn’t get me juice! Esperanza got some for me.”

“Esperanza? Is that your name?” Bruce asks her while Dick puts his head back down on Bruce’s shoulder. “I’ll thank you properly, Esperanza. I’ll send you a check. I’m Bruce Wayne, by the way.”

“Martinez,” Esperanza nods. “Oh, it’s alright, really. I’m just glad your boy’s okay. I have a daughter too, her name’s Nicole. I’d be feeling the same way you are if I ever lost her.”

Bruce smiles. He doubts Esperanza will take a check off him at the moment, but he’ll ask Jacob about her later and find some way to send her some money. There’s no way he can’t now that he knows she has a kid too. “How old is she?”

“She’s turning seven this week,” Esperanza says with a camera-worthy smile.

“Aw, that’s great. If you like, we can set up a playdate for them some time. Dick needs more friends. He can be a bit shy.” Bruce rubs Dick’s back lovingly.

“Really? Him? I wouldn’t have guessed. He was just chatting away before he got tired and wanted to sleep,” Esperanza chuckles. “And sure, a playdate sounds great. If you want, you both can just swing by the party we’re having this weekend. It’s just a simple pool party for kids, nothing fancy like this.” She looks around the place for emphasis.

“We’ll definitely be there,” Bruce assures her and readjusts Dick on his shoulder. Though he could lift much heavier things than his son, he was feeling exhausted after all the adrenaline that had ripped through his veins an hour ago. And it was way past Dick’s bedtime, the poor kid. “Here, I’ll give you my number and we can talk more about it later. I need to go and tuck this kid into bed.”

“Oh, alright!” Esperanza gets out her phone to exchange numbers. She can’t wait to brag to her friends that she nabbed Bruce Wayne’s number at a party. Ironic really, considering the fact that she’s gay. But bragging rights are bragging rights. “Have a safe drive back home, Mr. Wayne.”

“Call me Bruce,” he says with a wave. “And thanks again.”

“Bruce Wayne that has got to be the most stupid, irresponsible, and neglectful thing you have done to this boy yet!” Alfred yells from his bed the next morning. Or, he tries, but his voice is so shot that it’s a miracle he’s making a sound at all. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you take him to that party, I should’ve tried harder to stop you, so that was my fault, but this! You lose your gloves, Bruce, not a child!”

Bruce shrinks away from Alfred, still holding a tray of breakfast for the man. Alfred rarely ever calls him by his full name and it’s usually not a good thing whenever he does. “Look, Al, you’re right, I should’ve listened to you. I won’t do it again, it was stressful for both of us, and completely inappropriate on my part.”

Alfred snorts and rubs his forehead. Getting so angry in the morning while he’s sick only gives him a headache. “Thank God Esperanza found him, bless her soul. Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on him? I told you to keep an eye on him, Bruce. And what do you do? You let him run off to a bar by himself!”

“It was an accident!” Bruce winces. The guilt he felt last night rushes back, and he starts to think of his parents again. “Alfred, I know, you don’t have to tell me. This’ll never happen again. I… I couldn’t stand losing any part of my family again.”

The mention of Bruce’s late parents makes Alfred quiet, though he holds a hard look on Bruce. Dick pokes his head into the room, knowing that his guardians are talking about him. He runs to Alfred’s bed and jumps on it, luckily nowhere near Alfred’s legs. “Good morning Alfred! We made you breakfast! I poured the cereal.” He tells him proudly.

“Did you? You are the sweetest thing, do you know that master Dick?” Alfred says without a trace of anger in his voice to show Dick. He sits up to kiss the boy’s forehead tenderly.

Dick nods, grinning ear to ear from Alfred’s kiss. “Bruce made the eggs! I wanted to make the eggs but he wouldn’t let me because he said the fire was too hot and I was too short to reach, but I can reach. I got down the strawberry gummies all by myself from the top cupboard last week. It’s not hard to climb up there. That’s what I tried to tell him, that I could climb up there, but he still wouldn’t let me.”

“You climbed on the counter? Master Dick, you know you’re not supposed to do that,” Alfred tuts.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to talk about climbing rules in this house,” Bruce says, setting the food tray on Alfred’s lap. He sees Dick frown and he can’t help but smile. He’s thankful beyond words that he’s here with him.

“And we’re going to have another parenting talk later,” Alfred tells Bruce as he starts on his eggs.

Bruce sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He’s definitely not looking forward to that talk. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s leave Alfred alone so he can eat in peace. We still have to make our own breakfast.”

“I want pancakes!” Dick says and leaps from the bed into Bruce’s arms, who was completely unprepared for the surprise attack.

Bruce catches him deftly as a test of his reflexes and walks back to the kitchen. “I’ll see if we have any.”

[todoroqis]

Rule of Thirds

Title: Rule of Thirds

Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Jeongcheol Word Count: 4.9K Summary: Seungcheol is a photographer in quest of inspiration and Jeonghan meets him right where he needs him. a/n :  SOOO... I’ve been writing this for over 6 months can you believe? Writer’s block is a bitch. @jiminsbootyshorts THANK YOU FOR BETA-READING THIS YOU’RE AN ANGEL !

Cross posted on AO3

What’s a picture without a story to tell? There’s only so many deserted train stations, unconventional buildings or busy subway stations in early mornings Seungcheol can capture and it’s all starting to look bland and boring. There’s nothing much he can do about it and it’s sad to say that his award winning career has only lasted for as long as four years.

Seungcheol dreams of rich burgundies and soft mint greens, of bewitching landscapes and still pictures so full of complex emotions yet so simple on the eye. Seungcheol doesn’t want to wake up and yet when he does, he’s back to the dull reality, to the vicious circle that is everyday life. He can’t really pinpoint whether it’s the blaring ringtone of his alarm clock or the icy early morning air that penetrates his thin duvet that makes him want to lie there and not do anything, just wait until he shrivels and dies of dehydration.

He’s at the train station today, hopeful he’ll find something that catches his eye, an epiphany or a revelation that will change the world of photography forever. It probably won’t be the case, though; he’ll go there, take hundreds of pictures, hate every single one of them, delete, go home then repeat. The only thing Seungcheol sees is a swarm of faceless bodies, walking around as fast as they possibly can, trying to catch the first train to wherever they have to go; so much movement, dynamic and life and any other photographer would be enchanted by the scenery, the only thing Seungcheol sees is a potential headache.

There’s a bunch of middle-schoolers running around, a stressed out businessman walking in circles while yelling at his phone and a high-strung city mom pulling her kindergartener son’s hand a little too hard and they’re all pushing Seungcheol back and forth against other strangers who do not seem very happy about the photographer being all up their personal space. He ends up doing more profuse apologizing than picture taking.

It gets kind of annoying after awhile, he’s sweating through his low-cut tank top, his bag is half open, documents, wallet, snacks and everything in between so close to collapsing and he’s sure he’s getting tan lines from the camera’s strap around his neck. Said camera, his pricy yet trustworthy Canon EOS 5DS, hasn’t captured anything remotely captivating in so long and Seungcheol decides to call it a day after 45 minutes of intensive glaring around. Delete, go home then repeat.

--

When Seungcheol thinks about it, nothing has really triggered his massive creative block. There has been no tragic backstory, no break-up, and no loss of a loved one… Nothing; just a blurry brain buzzing like a staticky TV monitor on a particularly rainy Sunday morning. Seungcheol thinks it would’ve been less painful, less poignant had there been a reason; it wouldn’t have meant that his career was just plain meaningless.

It dawned on him when he sat at his favorite coffeeshop, that day, looking out of the window, eyes completely unfocused. His coffee – black with no sugar and no creamer – was left forgotten on the table as Seungcheol daydreamed of utter nothingness. “The camera captures what the human eye sees;” Seungcheol only sees a blurry mash of industrial grey.

--

There's an empty seat by the railroad, and it's a real blessing given the fact that people usually fight for these types of spots. He guesses people didn't see it, too possessed by the demon of rush hour to be aware of it, rushing into trains, out of trains, pushing each other into a sort of human traffic jam that Seungcheol just doesn't understand. There's nothing appealing about the scenery; it's all just a major pain but Seungcheol sits there nonetheless, headphones on, plugged into his phone and playing music hard enough to cancel out any external noise. He's going through every single picture he's taken at least five times, trying to understand where the problem comes from; he has time, job offers have become scarce lately.

He's used fast shutter speed, capturing movement in different aperture levels, the focus was more than perfect, blurring the background in such an artistic way and yet, there's no story behind these still pictures, nothing that ties them together, nothing worthy of moving crowds and awing critics.

“Rush hour” is an overdone concept, appropriated by amateur college students on their first assignments. Seungcheol remembers taking trains aimlessly on his first year, eyes full of stars and passion taking over reason. Now that Seungcheol thinks about it, the pictures weren’t that great, his low-light shots were blurry and he’d cheat, using the automatic mode when picture didn’t come out as he wished, but his smile was there, and so was the excitement when he’d stop at completely random train stations, hours away from the capital, ready to explore whatever was behind the door.

When Seungcheol snaps back into present time, rush hour is over, the train station is almost deserted and the only people still standing are frustrated students who’ve missed the first train. Seungcheol sighs as he closes the lid of his camera, he has nothing to do here anymore, it’s time for him to go home and pursue the usual routine. Seungcheol likes routine, it’s comfortable and it never lets him down.

… Except for today... And it makes Seungcheol huff out loud. Of course someone has to take a seat near him, in the plastic chair situated right next to his, invading his private bubble and staring at him with big curious eyes. Out of all the empty seats, Seungcheol thinks. It’s suffocating, Seungcheol is uncomfortable and almost irritated and the stranger just wouldn’t stop staring.

“Neat camera!” The strangers finally speaks and Seungcheol wants to retort, ask him what would he know about cameras anyway? He wants to just stand up and leave but he turns around and faces the stranger. His determined eyes falter as he takes in the face of the beautiful stranger with the warm eyes and perfectly styled hair, kindly smiling at him. He’s beautiful, Seungcheol thinks, better looking than anyone he’s ever seen on the streets.

“It’s an EOS 5DS right? Nice pick, you’d need a fast shutter speed or a mirror lock up to get a good outcome from the sensor but other than that, it’s a trustworthy one you got there.” The stranger says. He sounds like knows what he’s saying, like he’s been there and done that and his eyes shift back into the overpriced camera around Seungcheol’s neck. “You’re a professional, right?”

Seungcheol laughs, bittersweet and borderline sad. “Yeah, I like to think I am, although I haven’t taken anything worthy of a professional photographer in a while.”

The stranger’s look switches away from the camera to take a good look at Seungcheol’s expression, eyes so focused on his face that Seungcheol can’t help but break the eye contact. There’s something about the man that’s so intense and yet so comforting and honest, it makes Seungcheol want to bask in his warmth, bundle up against him, spill out all of his problems and cry until no tear is left in his body. It’s exhilarating and downright terrifying.

“Creative block can be quite a bitch, huh?” The stranger sighs. There’s no sign of pity or sympathizing in his voice; it’s just a statement, the words of someone who’s been through the same rough path.

“Right.” Seungcheol answers. He isn’t using that condescending tone anymore. They’re both staring at whatever is in front of them, careful to not meet the other’s eyes. The stranger is grinning widely, Seungcheol can pretty much feel its warmth, and it makes the corners of his mouth curl up just a tad bit.

“My name is Yoon Jeonghan, by the way. I'm here because I missed my train… and the train after that.” He says, no hint of shame, embarrassment or regret in his words. “I'm pretty sure I'll get kicked by my client the second I step into the studio; if I ever get to work that is…”

“If?”

“I don't know... I like it here, I'm tempted to call in sick.” Jeonghan shrugs, eyes mischievous and a lopsided grin that would lure anyone into his trap, he’s playing with the zipper of his seemingly packed bag and Seungcheol wonders what’s in there. The photographer doesn't even want to go home anymore, his ass is burning from sitting too long on the hard plastic, his shirt is clinging onto his chest like a second skin and the camera strap feels heavy against his neck, but there's something about the beautiful Jeonghan that makes him want his company.

“Well, you're welcome to stay here and contemplate life with me on these amazingly dirty, uncomfortable plastic chairs!” He’s feeling bold, and it's a change in his routine, a much welcomed one. “I'm Choi Seungcheol, by the way.”

--

They end up leaving the station anyways in favor of a coffee shop. “There’s air conditioning and food. My treat!” Jeonghan says and there's no way Seungcheol can refuse free food. The atmosphere is light and filled with laughter as they stroll down the streets of the capital. Jeonghan is leading the conversation, talking about things as random as last night’s dinner, the pet shop near his house, the weather... It confuses Seungcheol why Jeonghan’s so dressed up, the sleeves of his button down are pulled up because of the heat and he’s uncomfortably pulling at the collar. The bag he’s carrying looks heavy as well and Seungcheol’s never been so curious about someone.

Seungcheol asks him when they're finally seated in the coffee shop and they're downing their iced coffees. “You look so uncomfortable, does your job require you to dress up on a daily?”

Jeonghan sighs, long and exasperated.

“Not all the time, no. Only when I’m meeting clients. I hate working for corporations, they’re too demanding and shut down every seemingly fun and creative idea, I have.” It’s funny coming from a man who dresses like a corporate heir, but what does Seungcheol know?

“Where do you work?” Seungcheol tries, testing the waters and his eyes are fixated on the way Jeonghan’s features soften and his smile is brighter than ever, on the way his eyes crinkle as if he’s about to go on a rant about his passion. Seungcheol’s always had a soft spot for passionate people.

“I’m a photographer as well! I mostly do fashion and advertising photography. ” Jeonghan replies. He takes out a camera from his bag; it’s a Mark III, Seungcheol notices, a gem handled with utter care and almost affection and Seungcheol can tell how much Jeonghan loves what he’s doing. He can’t help but feel amateurish when he looks at Jeonghan and it makes him want to hide. “I’ve actually made a lot of commercials, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me, especially since you’re a photographer yourself” Seungcheol is flabbergasted by Jeonghan’s bold statement and he’s wondering whether the man sitting in front of him is bragging but by the way his elbows are on the table and his chin against the back of his hands, eyebrows furrowed, he looks genuinely curious and Seungcheol’s more than ready to just melt into the decor and hide in embarrassment. He’s sitting with this good looking big shot photographer while he isn’t worth much himself.

“I’m … So sorry.” Is all he can say, eyes looking down at his big iced coffee that looks so interesting all of a sudden. Seungcheol’s never been a theoretical person and of all the photographers he’s studied in college, only Stephen Wilkes’ name remains in his memory. He expects Jeonghan to be offended, to frown and leave; even worse, leave and let a broke Seungcheol pay for the drinks but Jeonghan is genuinely laughing, head thrown back and lips stretched into a heart shape and Seungcheol swears he’s never seen a man so beautiful.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed about it. If anything, I’m glad I’m talking to someone who sees me as myself, not as some kind of deity.” And talk he did. Seungcheol learns that Jeonghan is the mastermind behind big brands ads, that he works mostly freelance and that he is self taught. It puts Seungcheol, who’s taken intensive classes for four years, to shame.

“I actually went to college for mechanical engineering, can you believe that? I hated every second of it, everyone was so focused on themselves and no one actually took time to interact outside of school. It was horrible, so naturally, I dropped out of college. Haven’t talked to my parents since then but I guess passion makes up for it?”

It’s as if Jeonghan’s asking a rhetorical question. He doesn’t seem bothered about being in bad terms with his parents and Seungcheol wishes he could be as carefree as the man in front of him. He decides to talk about his college experience too, about his photography assignments, his trips to random places to take pictures. He talks about his only award winning portfolio and abundance of job offers. It brings him back; Jeonghan takes in all of his words, marvelling at what used to be a wanderlust filled life, since Jeonghan’s job mostly requires him to be in studios and Seungcheol can see the sadness in his eyes when he hears about the other’s lack of motivation and the way his life completely took a turn for the worst.

By the time they leave the coffee shop, it’s already early afternoon, Seungcheol is beaming after he sees Jeonghan off, -not without exchanging numbers. For the first time, he goes back home feeling accomplished and joyful, a feeling he hasn’t had in a while and for the first time, the white walls of his apartment, the lonely dirty coffee cup in the sink, the dirty laundry don’t really seem to bother him at all.

--

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me today, Seungcheol!” Jeonghan dramatically exclaims into Seungcheol’s speaker. Seungcheol’s smiles grow wide as he hums into his phone, waiting for Jeonghan’s daily rant. They’ve been doing that a lot recently, call each other at ridiculous hours and talk about random things. It makes Seungcheol happy, he’s beaming most of the time, his house doesn’t seem as bleak and lifeless when Jeonghan’s laughing out loud on the phone, filling his living room with colors he has never noticed before.

��I’m pretty sure the world hates me today! I missed my train and stood there waiting in the rain. My client had the guts to yell at me, uhm hello I’m not your corporate employee, you can’t just take out your pent up frustration on me. Don’t you hate it when that happens? My presence itself is a blessing to your company.”

Seungcheol’s laugh is reverberating across the living room. He can vividly imagine Jeonghan huffing and puffing wherever he is right now, he wants to see him, shoulders slumped, pouting as he spills the monologue. Seungcheol can’t really relate since he hasn’t worked with companies before but he sympathizes anyways, trying to reassure Jeonghan in the best possible way.

“There, there. They will come around, eventually.” He isn’t very sure, he doesn’t really know much about the whole corporate system.

“You’re really bad at this, Seungcheol…” Jeonghan complains, voice slightly high pitched and he stresses on the ‘Seungcheol’, and it makes the older’s heart jump. He’s pretty sure it’s unhealthy and Jeonghan will be the reason for his death.

They fall into a comfortable silence, Jeonghan is humming into the phone and Seungcheol is sprawled out in his couch, mindlessly listening to Jeonghan’s half assed singing. It feels great, as if Jeonghan was there by his side, as if they’d known each other forever, as if Seungcheol’s never ever felt lonely.

“How was your day, Seungcheol?” Jeonghan suddenly breaks the silence, his tone is wary and cautious, completely aware that it is quite a sensitive topic. Seungcheol wants to tell him that it isn’t, that it’s okay to let his guards down when talking to him, but they haven’t known each other for longer than a month after all, no matter what Seungcheol feels.

“Old same, old same.” Seungcheol sighs. He didn’t take his camera with him this day, opting for a more traditional approach to trying to find inspiration. He’s walked miles, hands deep into his pockets and eyes on the lookout for anything worth his time, a new perspective, interesting textures, landscapes, facial expressions, anything….

“I sometimes feel like I should just quit and go get myself another job.”

“Seungcheol…”

“What’s there for me anyways. Who tells me people will even look at my portfolio after that, I’m not like you, Jeonghan. Have you seen me? I have no charisma, I can’t say one sentence without stumbling over my words. The whole fresh out of college with professors’ recommendation won’t work anymore…”

By the small “ah” that Seungcheol hears on the phone, Jeonghan doesn’t really seem all that convinced. He hears a small sigh and he knows Jeonghan’s looking for the right thing to say. It’s overwhelming and he doesn’t hesitate to make up a whole bunch of excuses on why he needs to go and that he’ll talk to him later. He knows Jeonghan will call him anyways, he always does.

Jeonghan always calls, he always text, documenting every single aspect of his life and Seungcheol is overjoyed when he wakes up to pictures of Taco, Jeonghan’s cat, his failed attempt at breakfast, early morning skies or things as random as tree leaves or one quarter of his nephew, Chan’s grumpy morning face.

Seungcheol’s gotten used to waking up to Jeonghan’s texts. They’re usually either about Jeonghan not wanting to leave his bed, - Seungcheol relates -, Taco’s early morning mischieves or insane ideas that make Seungcheol believe that Jeonghan hasn’t gotten a grip on adulthood just yet. It’s the latter today and Seungcheol isn’t awakened by one but a multitude of texts sent one after the other.

At this point, Seungcheol is half laughing and half crying, mourning what could’ve been the most peaceful and cozy morning he’s had in awhile. His phone on his bedside table seems too far away and the stretch of his arm is almost painful. He hopes it’s an emergency this time, a text worth waking up to.

from : Jeonghan; 7.26 a.m. Do you think it’s socially acceptable to order pizza for breakfast?

from : Jeonghan; 7.27 a.m. And Coke.

from : Jeonghan; 7.27 a.m. Pizza and coke really sound like a good idea…

from : Jeonghan; 7.28 a.m. So apparently pizza places don’t open at 7:30 a.m. It’s an abomination.

It isn’t. It is most definitely not worth waking up to and Seungcheol makes a memo at the back of his mind to put his phone on silent before sleep starting today.

To: Jeonghan; 7.32 a.m. omg Jeonghan make yourself some coffee like the rest of the world.

He angrily types away. The reply comes faster than it takes Seungcheol to put his phone back on the table and go back to sleep.

from: Jeonghan; 7.32 a.m. I’m not a chef, Seungcheol.

If there’s one thing that Seungcheol’s most definitely learned in the few weeks he’s known Jeonghan for, it’s that Jeonghan needs to stay away from kitchens. It’s endearing to say the least, and he’s glad he’s able to see past Jeonghan’s intimidatingly perfect physical appearance.

--

The first time Seungcheol visits Jeonghan’s studio, he feels like a freshman again. He’s mesmerized by everything, wants to touch everything, wants to know how everything works and it’s probably annoying to Jeonghan, but when Seungcheol turns around to see Jeonghan fondly smiling at his childlike curiosity, he doesn’t care about the rest anymore. All he sees are the little crinkles at the outer corners of Jeonghan’s eyes when the man laughs, the way his hand subconsciously moves to dishevel his previously perfectly styled hair, the tongue that darts out to lick at his seemingly dry lips and everything in between.

“So… That’s where I work. I take it you like the place?” Jeonghan asks and he almost looks proud. It’s not hard to see why Jeonghan takes so much pride in his workplace, it makes Seungcheol feel out of place. He nods, though, because who is he kidding? He loves everything about the studio, from the equipment there to the man who owns the place.

“It’s incredible, Jeonghan.” He assures. “Goddammit, I feel so underqualified, now.” Seungcheol groans and it takes him a split second to regret and wish he hasn’t said it out loud. Jeonghan’s gone from adjusting his camera’s settings to looking at him with a pained expression. He knows Jeonghan doesn’t like to hear him wallow in self pity, but there’s nothing but truth in his words.

“Don’t say that, Seungcheol. If there’s anything you’re not, it’s underqualified.” Jeonghan sighs. He’s said it many times before, Seungcheol’s heard it more than once.

“C’mon. I’ve seen your portfolio before. You’re incredible.” Jeonghan points out. And yes, Seungcheol’s showed Jeonghan his portfolio, not sans a lot of whining coming from the younger. Jeonghan had looked quite impressed with Seungcheol’s work and the latter couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling proud and boastful that someone as influential as Jeonghan was appreciating his work. It felt like one of the biggest seals of approval and yet, the seal was on his previous work.

“Whatever…”

Seungcheol looks down, almost ashamed of his childish behavior. He's supposed to be enjoying his day and yet, he's ruining it for both himself and Jeonghan. The latter is back to fixing the settings of his camera, single handedly handling the device while his other hand is carrying a tripod. His eyes are narrowed in focus, that tongue that drives Seungcheol crazy is darting out again and he wonders if there are any instances in which Jeonghan isn't looking beautiful.

His hand is reaching out for his camera, he doesn't realize it, too busy remembering each and everyone of Jeonghan’s features. It happens like a flash and the sound of the picture being taken is what wakes Seungcheol up. He's just taken a picture of Jeonghan and it feels good. Taking a picture’s never felt so good and yet when Jeonghan turns around to take a look at him, the realization just falls on him like meteor. He's in love. He's never been so in love before and it probably creeped Jeonghan out. Who would take someone else's picture so suddenly.

“Seungcheol?”

“Oh my god I'm so sorry…. I have to go.” And before Jeonghan says anything, Seungcheol had long left the studio.

--

It’s the tenth call from Jeonghan he’s avoided. Seungcheol can’t take it and every time he hears the generic ringtone playing, he feels like he’s slowing going crazier and crazier. He’s sitting on his living room’s floor, camera in hand and he can’t take his eyes out of the picture. It’s beautiful; Seungcheol doesn’t know if it’s because of his skill or because Jeonghan looks beautiful no matter what.

He knew he was attracted to Jeonghan, but again, who wasn’t? He’s been nothing but a delight in the three months they’ve known each other and in Seungcheol’s mind, it was only natural he'd appreciate the man in return. Yet, the adrenaline rush he felt when the focus was set and the shutter release was pushed was like no other. He's taken many pictures of incredible sights before, the excitement pooling down his veins but nothing compared the Jeonghan’s reflection on his little camera monitor.

Seungcheol loves Jeonghan, it's a fact now. He loves a man that’s way out of his league, a man that could get himself anyone, a man that doesn't need a sore loser like him. It’s ridiculous, Seungcheol thinks, he’s free willingly throwing himself into this dark hole he can’t escape and the image on the screen monitor is a concrete proof. At this point, Seungcheol considers moving into another town, possibly another country. It would help to change his name, his identity and maybe grow a mustache for maximum anonymity.

He drops his camera to the ground, right between his crossed legs and lets out a long sigh he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes are closed, mind full of unwanted thoughts and he doesn’t know how long it is before he hears the loud knocks on his door. They’re relentless and persistent and Seungcheol is sure that a very angry Jeonghan is the one behind the incessant noise.

He stands up slowly and he’s reluctant to open when he nears the door. What is going to say? There’s no way for him to deny what happened back in the studio, or find a rational explanation other than “you’re beautiful and I’m madly in love with you.” He stands there, facing his front door while listening to Jeonghan’s livid threats of clawing his eyes out if he doesn’t open the door. He finally caves in and opens the door as Jeonghan is yelling “I can hear you’re inside, you fucker!” Jeonghan rarely ever curses but the man in front of him is very much ready to not only curse but also probably throw in some punches too. His hair is disheveled and his glares could burn holes into Seungcheol’s skin.

“Hi…?” Seungcheol’s words are tentative. He knows Jeonghan isn’t here for friendly conversation and it shows by the way the younger pushes Seungcheol inside, fingers painfully digging into his shoulderblades. Jeonghan closes the door with a push of his foot and the bang resonates into Seungcheol’s head.

“What the fuck?” Is all Jeonghan says and he’s standing there, in the middle of his shabby living room, arms crossed and waiting for Seungcheol to say something.

“I’m… I’m so sorry for what happened in the stu-...”

“No ! No, don’t give me that bullshit.” Jeonghan cuts him and he’s ready to go into a passionate monologue. “Nothing happened there. You just decided to make up a whole scene out of it. You took a picture of me; oh wow, fucking tragic.”

Seungcheol is astounded by Jeonghan’s words, more by the colorful vocabulary than the fact that Jeonghan didn’t really mind Seungcheol snapping a picture.

“You just ran away and left me there alone and fucking confused. I texted you, I tried to call you. But you just decide to ignore me altogether, to hide inside your house and to lament yourself for days.”

The silence is heavy when Jeonghan finally stops talking. He’s patiently waiting for Seungcheol to speak, say something, anything. He finally seems to be calming down with every breath he’s taking and Seungcheol believes he’s been holding those words for a while now.

“Listen. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I just… I freaked out, okay?” Seungcheol starts. He drops his gaze to the floor when Jeonghan cocks his eyebrow, obviously unsatisfied with Seungcheol’s vague response.

“And?”

“And what? I just didn’t know what to do. I thought you believed I was a freak because who the fuck just impulsively snaps a picture of someone?”

“I thought it was flattering.” Jeonghan says in the softest of voices. “It’s a change from being the one behind the camera.” It makes Seungcheol’s jaw drop.

“Oh…I’m sorry then.” It burns. He wants to say it and finally relieve that ache in his chest. He’s encouraged by Jeonghan’s tone and expectant looks, as if the younger is waiting for Seungcheol to finally confess and move on with it.

“Ok, here. I’m gonna say it.” He blurts out and it doesn’t really seem to take Jeonghan by surprise at all. He’s just standing there, arms still crossed, eyes fixed on Seungcheol and it drives the latter crazy. “I like you, okay? I really really like you, Jeonghan.”

“Finally !”

“What?”

“Well… I can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you to finally get on with it and finally ask me out. You’re really dense aren’t you? I like you too but it seems as if you don’t understand it when other people flirt with you.”

“O-oh…”

--

“Look at the camera.” Seungcheol says, kneeling on the ground, trying to capture the moment as fast as possible. Jeonghan is laughing, sitting on a bench at the park, legs crossed and his ice cream is melting all over his hands. He looks beautiful, Seungcheol thinks as he presses the shutter release for the fiftieth time today.

“Aren’t you inspired today?” Jeonghan chuckles. He’s trying his best to wipe his fingers clean and it’s adorable how much of a messy eater Jeonghan is.

“How could I not be inspired when I’m dating such a beautiful prince?” Seungcheol boasts standing up from the ground to plant a kiss on Jeonghan’s cringing face.

“You’re too fucking cheesy.” Seungcheol knows Jeonghan loves it when he’s sappy and corny anyway, so he doesn’t mind the younger’s complaints, especially when Jeonghan’s eagerly kissing him back.

“And you taste like cookies and cream. That flavor is a disgrace to ice cream.” Seungcheol mumbles and he’s playfully pushed back by a half laughing, half offended Jeonghan. They still stroll down the city streets holding hands, even though Jeonghan is still feigning offense and looking out to his side, mumbling about how Seungcheol is always insulting his taste in food and how his ‘bland and boring ass’ wouldn’t understand the joys of cookies and cream anyway.

His career may not be completely restored to its previous glory, but he’s working on it and he’s much happier that way anyway.

[tipsycad147]

4 Terrific Spells For Bringing Happiness Into Your Life

SL Bear

I’ve been reading about happiness and joy lately. It’s the one thing everybody wishes they had more of in their lives but struggle with. Sometimes we’re happy and don’t realise it, looking back fondly at better times without enjoying the moment we’re living in. Sometimes happiness feels out of reach because we see our happiness as tied inextricably with the accomplishment of a goal or the acquisition of a thing we want. If I had A, B or C, then I’d be happy. Whatever the reason for our perceived unhappiness, as witches we have the special ability to focus and manifest happiness pretty simply. First, though, it’s important to remember perception and how to use it to change your world.

Our opinions, beliefs, and how we see the world are deeply important to us. They inform our entire personalities. The truth of the matter is that there are very few right or wrong opinions (not to be confused with facts). They are just that, opinions, and they should evolve as we grow. Thinking a certain way, and having that thought fixed in our heads, can be a good and bad thing. On one hand, knowing how we feel can build confidence and decisions are easier to make. On the other, being unable to change, or stubbornly clinging to our opinions, can keep our minds closed to possibilities and opportunities. So what does this have to do with happiness? Everything. The way you perceive your world and your opinions of it can have a direct effect on how you feel. If you wake up and the first thing you think about is how unhappy you are and how this, this and this are bringing you down, well, you’ve already set yourself up for failure. By simply changing your mind and how you see these obstacles will make all the difference. Perception is the key that unlocks everything.

Open My Eyes Spell

All that is well and good, but I understand that changing long-held beliefs — especially during times of depression and anxiety, when things are already overwhelming — is not easy. It is something you can learn to do, then practice daily until suddenly, your world looks completely different. A great way to start is by practising gratitude. Instead of thinking about what you don’t have, focus on what you do and be thankful. Another way is through rituals that help you see your life in a new light.  

This spell brings clarity to open your mind to a new way of thinking. You’ll be able to see holes in some mental arguments you have with yourself and beliefs that you’re holding onto about yourself or your life that are holding you back. Most importantly, you’ll be more willing to let these unhelpful beliefs go. You can see how you are blocking your own joy and know how to better work with yourself, not against yourself.

What you will need:

Diluted Citronella Oil

Cloves

Lemon or orange rind

Citrine or amber stone

Pearl or moonstone

Blue candle

Small bowl of water

Sponge

Dress your candle in the oil and set aside. Grind the cloves and lemon together to form a powder then add it to the bowl of water. As you stir, focus on people, pets, accomplishments, talents, etc. in your life you are grateful for — everything that makes you incredibly happy. Place the sponge into the water. As the sponge is soaking, light the candle and place it some place near, but on a raised surface. Now, pick a place to get comfortable, either a mat on the floor or your bed so you can lie down, and squeeze out the sponge so it’s not soaking wet but still moist to the touch. Lay down, place the pearl and citrine on your chest, and the cool sponge on your forehead. Breath through your nose and out your mouth, focusing only on being still and calm.

Once you feel peaceful, think about some beliefs you have about yourself, thoughts or feelings that you feel might impede your happiness or make you stressed; things that seem very important to you right now. Stay neutral while you examine these beliefs and don’t get keyed up. It may be a good idea to think of words only, if that helps to see things objectively. Now break down each stressful feeling and make it powerless. In 60 years, will this belief about yourself matter to you? Do you want it to? What is something positive about yourself that counters this belief or makes it untrue? Think of times in your life when this opinion about yourself was proven wrong. You may believe this thought or feeling has a lot of power over you, but if you stop reinforcing this belief, it goes away. It is no longer true if you do not believe it.

Focus on the coolness on your forehead and all the things that bring you joy. These are the things that require your energy. Throughout the days and weeks going forward, when you feel these unhelpful, untrue thoughts and feelings creeping in, practice remembering the cool feeling right above your eyes, and focus on that instead — good things at the forefront of your mind.

Invite Joyful People Spell

Everyone knows that being around negative people can affect your mood. Certain friends and family members seem to have a special talent for exhausting us emotionally. While I’m a strong supporter of cutting out toxic influences, I know that’s not always possible, so I figure the alternative is to invite more positive people in through magic. This spell works to do just that. In the days and weeks following this spell, be very aware of new people and be open to new relationships. It won’t help much to invite them to you if you have no intention of making that connection!

What you will need:

Chicory

Angelica

Lodestone

Basil

Purple candle

Grind together the chicory, angelica and basil. Place the candle on a dish, and sprinkle your powder around the base of the candle and on the top as well, so it will mix with the wax as the candle burns. Light the candle and settle down in a comfortable position.

Lodestones are powerful magnets for bringing us what we want, so hold it in your left hand and be very clear with your intentions in the next step. Close your eyes and picture yourself as a point of light, repelling darkness. Imagine you are a magnet for fun, intelligent, and kind people. Think about the people you know who fit this description already, and ways you can bring them more fully into your life. See how you could be more open to these kinds of people, ways to meet them, places they may frequent and let yourself be drawn there. Stay in this moment until your candle has covered the dusting of powder. Now follow your intuition. As you encounter new people, try to read them and give them a chance. Go to new places. Reach out. And carry your lodestone with you, focusing on your intention of bringing great people into your life!

Help Others Through Magic

One of the best ways to bring joy into your life is by helping others and showing compassion. Doing something nice for your friends or family, even something small like getting them a card or bringing over some of their favorite food, will go along way to making you feel great! You can also use magic to help others. Witchcraft can feel very isolating at times, with a strong focus on the self. Using your magic to help others is a way to take the focus off yourself, which can be a relief (especially if you’ve been in a negative state of mind). It also helps someone else — always a surefire way to feel better. This spell is used to make something good happen for someone you care about.

What you will need  

Neroli oil diluted in a carrier oil

Amethyst

Opal

Basil

Salt

Gold candle

To begin, carve your loved one’s name into the gold candle, dress it with the oil, and place it on a dish. Sprinkle a small circle of salt around this candle and place the opal and amethyst to the right and left of the dish, upon the circle of salt. Light the candle and sprinkle the crushed basil into the flame while thinking of your loved one’s face, why they deserve something great, and getting what they need. Pour your heart and soul into this intention! The spell is complete when the candle has burned all the way down.

Joyful Movement Spell

Lots of things can have a positive impact on how you’re feeling. Going for a walk, cleaning your room, taking a shower, watching a favourite movie, having a great meal, finding funny videos to watch are all quick pick-me-ups. For witches, performing magic and surrounding yourself with magic can have the same effect. It’s fun to organise your herb collection, cleanse your stones, light some incense and get into a witchy mood. Because everything we do in magic has a purpose, we can combine activities like showering or cleaning with witchcraft and turn them into silent reflection, focusing, or cleansing moments.

Likewise, we can mix movement and magic. Lots of people dislike exercise because it can be boring, but it’s important to get up and move, both for body and mind. The good news is you can easily turn the monotony of exercise into a magical ritual. I suggest dancing!

When you dance to music, lots of things happen to your body. Your heart rate speeds up, your muscles flex and you get to release tension. If you keep it up regularly, your circulation improves, which is a long-term boost to your health. You sleep better and you’re motivated to eat better as well, according to some studies. There are also studies that suggest dancing improves brain function!

This spell is a two-parter. First, put on your favourite dance music, turn it up, and go wild. Dance and move in all directions, letting the energy flow. Instead of focusing on anything in particular, try to free your mind of all thought and just tune into the music itself. This makes for an excellent cleansing ritual but we’re going to use it to build positive energy which will be channelled into part two, the spellwork.

What you will need:

Horehound

Aventurine

Silver

Peony petals

Cayenne pepper

A large bowl of freshly collected dirt

Note: This is spell is most effective during a full moon.

I suggest that you set everything up before you begin to dance so it’s ready for you after you’ve finished. When you’ve built up tons of good energy don’t turn off the music! Combine the horehound, petals, cayenne, and dirt in a large bowl, then take the silver in your right hand and the aventurine in your left. Push your fists into the dirt and hold them there a moment. Then release the silver and stone and move your hands around. Rake the dirt slowly with your fingers, pick it up in handfuls and let it sprinkle back into the bowl. Watch your breathing during this spell. Once it has returned to normal and your hands are wonderfully earthy, remove them from the bowl and place them above it, palms up. Close your eyes and repeat this spell:

“Rain on the earth,

Earth on my hand.

When storms chase me,

I can withstand.

Sun chases rain,

And clouds chase the sun.

Joy chases me,

And I no longer run.”

Wash your hands well and dispose of the dirt by your front door. Don’t forget to retrieve the silver and aventurine!

Bringing joy into your life is not a complicated process. Changing the way you see your life is where it gets tricky. Each day every single one of us is challenged by stress, internal negativity and outside forces that just seem there to upset us. Getting rid of all negativity from your life isn’t the goal. That’s just life! It’s up to us to take these things in stride and see opportunity over obstacles. Embrace the things that make you happy and use your natural talent as witches to cleanse, stay balanced, and keep that perspective in check.

https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/4-terrific-spells-for-bringing-happiness-into-your-life