#and now I'm once again in my gavin feels

[ejunkiet]

Have I mentioned how much I love Gavin recently?

[notmoreflippingelves]

Naomi/Esteban: 1, 7, 16 and 55 ; Gregory/Manfred (AA): 20, 21 and 59 please!

Naomi/Esteban

Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

Both to be honest. Albeit in slightly different ways. Esteban is more likely to have pre-emptively made a decision/taken action without informing Naomi or asking for her permission first. And Naomi would be livid that she wasn't consulted beforehand. Esteban would be very smug and condescending and talk about how he knows better since he's older (physically, maybe but not necessarily mentally) and wiser (questionable) so Naomi should defer to his judgement. And he would use "I love you" in a slightly manipulative way to try and silence all her protestations. (It doesn't work. His love for her just makes her even more determined to save him from his own noble urges).

In circumstances that specifically involve Esteban putting himself at risk (to protect Naomi/other members of his family/Avalor), he would probably also try to pull the "I am older and less worthy/important, so I am more disposable if things should go wrong" bullshit, which would make Naomi absolutely livid.

Also I think it would be impossible for Naomi to end the argument simply with "because I love you." She would specifically end it with "because I love you, you asshole!" (Emphasis on that last part). Sure she loves him and wants him to know that's why she's behaving as she is. But she also wants to remind him that he is incredibly aggravating and often stupid and she can just barely stand the sight of him sometimes.

Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

Just because? No I don't think so. And certainly not together. That being said, I can see them building separate pillow forts under very specific circumstances for the sheer purpose of outdoing each other. One of them mentioned building pillow forts as children and being very good at it. And the other immediately follows up with "That is nothing. I built forts twice as high and just as impressive." and the inevitable response is "Oh yeah. Prove it!"

And so there just ends up being the pettiest little competition as to who can build the best fort. (Elena is named the judge since she has a foot in both camps. And she's rather shook about the whole thing. She herself would've absolutely accepted a pillow fort building challenge in an instant. But like she kind of expected Naomi and Esteban of all people to act like actual, reasonable adults--as they do in most circumstances. But no, they are the ones acting like children just because neither can bend even in a little where the other is concerned).

Not sure who would win the competition, though I might have to give a slight edge to Esteban. Simply because we know he likes to stack a pillow given the like 6+ we see on his bed in the sick day episode. (Of course, if Elena had taken part, she probably would've won because she has even more stacked pillows on her own bed and she's more stubborn than either of the others to boot).

Can they stay up all night just talking?

Could they stay up all night talking? Yes, probably. Both have a lot to say, enjoy the sound of their own voice, and like spending as much time as they possibly can with their partner.

Would they stay up all night talking? I kind of doubt it. While both are very hard workers, they are also two of the more practical characters on the show. (To an extent, Esteban can definitely have his super irrational moments). Therefore, they know the importance of getting a good night's sleep. They also seem like the sort that genuinely enjoy the sleep that they get. Like they're not going to protest too much or try to stay up any longer than necessary. Sleep is good (especially in each other's arms), so there is no strong drive to push it off.

Do they like watching clouds or star gazing?

Both of them are canonically into sailing, and using the stars to navigate is kind of a big part of that. So I definitely think they would look at the stars together. Additionally, Naomi has lived in a bunch of different places, and Esteban traveled a lot during his time as chancellor. So I think they would both know and talk a lot about the different names for various constellations in different places--as well as any legends/stories associated with these or the stars themselves.

On a similar note, they might also watch the clouds a bit--but more out of practicality than enjoyment. It's always good to be on top of changes in the weather--especially when one or both is out at sea and/or if they have specific plans outdoors in the near future. That being said, Naomi is particularly fond of pointing out any cloud that she sees that even vaguely resembles Esteban's facial hair. (Esteban's usual reply: "You do me a great disservice with that remark, Miss Turner! I would never allow such a miserable, misshapen thing to grace my face.")

Gregory/Manfred

Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

I'm sorry, but I am so bad at this. I don't know music like at all. (It's really just musical theater and artists my parents like. That is the extent of my music knowledge).

So we're gonna have a few songs from random musicals and they're gonna be angsty since that's where my brain goes with this ship.

So I don't think this one will come as a particular surprise especially given I know you are a Les Mis fan...but yeah, the whole sequence of Confrontation --> Stars--> Javert's Suicide.

Just Manfred being horrified and disgusted at being at Gregory's mercy and the audacity of this man to be kind and just and dedicated toward the Truth when he has no right. Just go ahead and substitute "defense attorney" for "thief"/"criminal" in a lot of Javert's lyrics, and you've got Manfred being a toxic, doomed, would-be tsundere.

"Damned if I'll live in the debt of a thief/ Damned if I'll yield at the end of the chase./ I am the Law and the Law is not mocked./ I'll spit his pity right back in his face./ There is nothing on Earth that we share....

"How can I allow this man to hold dominion over me...This desperate man whom I have hunted."

And as for another toxic musical yaoi ship, Judas' reprise of "I Don't Know How to Love Him" from Jesus Christ Superstar. (Arguably Mary Magdalene's original as well). Just Manfred destroying the man that he loves (unrequitedly?) as Judas has done--simply because their goals are not aligned and because he doesn't know how to handle his feelings that he can't help but feel are irrational--especially as Gregory (or Jesus in the original) is just so damned Good and Manfred knows he never would've been worthy of him.

And even though I don't particularly read MVK as wallowing in guilt nearly as much as I do with Kristoph in krisnix, I think here could be an element of that there as well.

"I have been splattered with innocent blood./ I will be dragged through the slime and the mud./ I have been splattered with innocent blood!/ I will be dragged through the slime and the slime and the slime and the mud...

I..I don't know how to love Him./ I don't know why he moves me./ He's a man; he's just a man./ He is not a King./ He is just the same as anyone I know. /He scares me so."

There's also a bit of a similar feel from Burr's parts of "The World was Wide Enough " from Hamilton. Realizing that your idealogical opposite and narrative foil and foe didn't need to die at your hands. That your victory at long last is distinctly Pyrrhic and that there was and should've been room for both of you in the courtroom (which is THE world for all intents and purposes for Manfred).

(For both of the above songs, the beginning isn't really the vibe for angsty Manfred/Greg, so I went ahead and linked to right where the relevant part starts).

And on a much, much lighter note. "Horny Angry Tango" from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. (Bonus in that both characters are lawyers and the background of this is them duking it out in court in a proxy battle for their relationship issues.) Just Manfred and Gregory getting super hot under the collar while arguing against each other in court, but also like genuinely being furious with each other as opposed to just horny and in denial.

And similarly, You're Only Second Rate from The Return of Jafar. I see this as early in Manfred and Gregory knowing each other. Manfred is just so aggravated by Gregory and thinks its so absurd that Gregory thinks he is a match for him. And he just quickly becomes overly obsessed with him in a totally not healthy or normal way that Greg in no way asked for. But Manfred just can't let this go for some reason. (It's a crush; he's got a crush, but he'll never realize it).

Who would get into a fight to defend the other’s honor? Who tends to the other’s wounds?

I'm not sure I can see either of them getting into a fight to defend the other's honor. Gregory doesn't ever think fighting is the answer, and it would take awhile for Manfred to ever get to the point where he is self-aware enough to admit that he cares about Gregory in order to defend him.

That being said, I can definitely see Manfred getting into a fight that concerns Gregory in some way. Maybe he's jealous of someone else he thinks is moving in on his man? Or someone (Gant probably) makes this mistake of teasing Manfred about his obvious "crush." Then, Manfred gets really really defensive about it (he's so in denial) and may even retaliate with his fists if the person is really pushy about it.

Greg would have to be around to bandage Manfred's wounds, but he would definitely do it and very carefully. Which of course makes Manfred even more furious about everything. HOW DARE HE BE KIND WHEN THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE?

Who tops? Who bottoms?

Honestly, I don't think I've ever seriously thought about this, lol. I am friendly with some Manfredf*ckers, though and so I have thought/heard a little bit about their thoughts re: von Karma sex in general.

My main feeling is that I feel like whether Manfred would top or bottom depends entirely on whom he is being shipped with. He bottoms for Gant and Blaise, he tops Udgey, Yanni, Phoenix, Miles or Kristoph (I've only seen it one fic but like...👀).

But as for Gregory...you know I have a feeling Manfred would bottom for him too. Specifically in the sense of being a rather pushy power bottom and sort of for similar reasons as Kristoph. He's super uptight and repressed--and I feel there's a part of him that would enjoy losing some of his trademark control and perfection but specifically in a controlled, safe, private environment like the bedroom. Also, he's worth it so he would enjoy making his partner do most of the work and he just sits and enjoys like the perfect and deserving von Karma that he is.

As for Gregory, I guess see him more as a service top anyway. He doesn't strike me as particularly dominant, but he strikes me as a submissive even less. Maybe it's the overall "dad" energy that he exudes, but I feel like he would be very attentive to his partner and focus on making sure that they feel good and are well-looked after.

So yeah, they're probably both switches but in this case, Greg as service top to Manfred's power-bottom.

[drea-ms]

MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE — RK800

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ "Maybe falling in love with you was a mistake." "Maybe it was." Connor regretted saying that, he regretted not saying I love you to you.

warnings. heavy angst. no happy ending. reader is a detective. deviant!connor. fights. hospital scene, reader getting shot. reader is from New York. no use of yn. grammar mistakes.

You wondered how you got in this moment, before this, you were in the precinct chatting with Gavin and Hank. The next you were called in for a homicide along with Hank and Connor, and now you were chasing the suspect who was running away. You were lucky you got a head start because the guy was running at a fast speed, Connor behind you, was catching up, while Hank was slow, he was old. That's when time stopped and the suspect turned around and tried to shot one of you guys and notice that he was aiming at connor. It felt as if time stopped, maybe it did because by the time the gun went off, you went running in front of connor, the bullet hitting you in the ribs. Then, your eyes closed.

The next time you woke up it was two weeks after that chase, you were in the hospital, your android partner, was sitting there, sleeping or what androids called sleeping. His brown hair a mess, his chocolate covered eyes closed and his clothes a mess, Hank came to visit you once you woke up, the android still asleep. The older man looked at you then at Connor, then began to talk, "He's been here since you were shot, the poor kid was worried sick" he stated taking his coat off and putting it on the sleeping android before continuing, "He was mad at everyone, at himself mostly, mad at the fact that they couldn't help you faster, mad that he couldn't help you, he was scared." He said turning around and taking steps to the door, "I'm going to tell the docs that you're awake, you should wake up sleeping beauty before they get here" he said and left. You smiled, grateful for the older Anderson.

Once he left you turned to look at Connor, you shook him awake until he woke up, when he did, the first thing he did was yell, "What the hell were you thinking?! You could've died!" he said standing up straight and tidying himself up, with wide eyes and an aching feeling in your chest you managed to say a couple words, "Geez, no thank you?" you sarcastically said, looking at him with a deadpanned face, "You could've let me get shot! I could be repaired in an instant! You can't!" he once again yelled, making you look at him with a sadden look, "He was aiming your heart you shithead! You could've died" you stated tears welling up in your eyes, almost choking on your own tears, "You're human! You only get one chance to live, I could live up to the end of the world! I can be replaced! You Can't!" he said repeating the last part, you looked at him, full on crying now. "What part do you not understand?!" he said once again, "I don't want you replaced, I don't want Hank to lose another son, Everyone doesn't want you replaced Connor! That's why! What if CyberLife does something to you and replaces you with a non deviant version of you?!" you yelled, you're voice hurting when you did, "I can assure you—" "That's not the point Connor! While I can live once without a copy of me, You can live on forever! And It wouldn't be the same if the original version of you is replaced by some other kind!" you interrupted him, him now standing in place quietly before he stated the words you never wanted to hear,

"Maybe falling in love with you was a mistake" he muttered but loud enough for you to hear him, "What?" you whispered looking at him, your vision becoming blurry due to your tears, "If falling in love with you caused this many problems, then I regret falling in love with you, I don't regret not being able to tell you that I do." he said, looking at you with a straight face, "Maybe it was.." you whispered not loud enough for him to hear, "I'm sorry?" he said, wanting you to repeat what he said and you did loud, "Out. Now." you shakily said, pointing at the door, "I will, hope you recover well enough detective." he said not calling you your name anymore, and he left.

It was a couple of weeks after that incident and once you felt better you went back to your job and avoided the android with all your heart, not wanting to see him, that was until you had an idea, if he didn't want to see you again then you would make it happen. You were in Fowler's office when you told the captain that you wanted to transfer to New York, the angry looking captain ask you why, "I don't think I can handle this.." you said lowering your head so you can't see his reaction, "I thought you loved it here," he said looking at you with a concerned look o his face, "I want to be home for a while," you said sadly smiling, and as a surprise he let you transfer, and when you saw that Hank and Connor left the precinct, you started to pack your stuff up from the desk, it was late at night and almost everyone left beside those who were on the night shift.

Since it was friday you were transfering back to New York until monday so you had enough time to leave everyone with out trace, but you didn't, you left each one of your friends and letters, you left two on Hank's and Connor's desk before leaving the precinct and looking at at for one last time and you left. Not trace on your desk left of you on there.

When Connor came back to work on Monday, he saw that your desk was empty and you weren't sitting there, he thought that maybe you switched desks, until he went through his cabinet in his desk, looking at the letter you left him.

Connor regretted letting those words come out of his mouth. He regretted not being able to finally love you like you did to him.

VALs NOTES : guess who's back!!!!!! i'm sick though and i though of this while shaking at 2am with the worst cold EVEREEEE though i have two fics in thw works!! one is a saiki k x reader and the other is a 707 x reader both are fluff!!

[penncilkid]

At long last, it's finally time. Welcome to:

PK's Redacted Fic Final!

Because of the contents of some of the fics/discussions in the segment, I am asking minors to not interact. If anyone is interested in the SFW/non 18+ fics I was sent, feel free to shoot me an ask or something. Otherwise, for the respect (and safety) of the authors I included, skip this post. Now then, let's get into it (under the cut /lh).

Summary/Overview: In total, I received 49 fics for this final (absolutely wild! /pos) and ended up including 8 of them as part of the final product. Said final product is a fake radio segment with a speaker created for the sake of discussing these fics in a fun way. The audio form of the segment will be attached on this post along with a downloadable version of the transcript (Note: I will also be reblogging with a text version of the transcript very soon).

With that out of the way, I'd like to take a moment and personally tag/shoutout the writers who's fics I included directly. In order of their appearance in my final, we've got:

Stress Relief by K9rage [Gavin/Damien] // @calicostorms

Mutually Beneficial by FriendlyFaded [Imp!Darlin/Vega] // @friendlyfaded

Pack Bonding by Bratty_Telepath [Darlin/Milo] + [Asher/Darlin/Milo/David] // @bratty-telepath

"this chain will never end (but i'll fucking try)." by zozo_01 [Damien/Huxley] // @zozo-01

not a day goes by (that I'm not into you) by Autisticempathydaemon [DAMN Polycule] // @autisticempathydaemon

Practice Makes Perfect by domini_moonbeam [Asher/David] (primarily) // @dominimoonbeam

Spark and Bite: A Demon-Vamp Crossover Special by AngelicAether [Freelancer/Gavin/Lovely/Vincent] // @angelicaether

he's the fire in the sin (and i burn breathing him in) by dogboynextdoor [Gavin/FL] // @redactedgender

I managed to get through 30 of the 49 submitted before finalizing things for submission, but! I still plan on reading through the remaining submissions and scoring them on their cards/sheets (which I will make a second post about soon).

As previously mentioned, the focus on my project was dissecting the portrayal of queer masculinity as it appears in fanfiction. Majority of the final is me gushing over the fics with commentary woven in between, so I hope it's enjoyable for anyone who chooses to read and/or listen to it. Once again, thank you so so so much to anyone who submitted a fic, wrote any of the fics, or has supported me throughout the creation process at any point. You are amazing.

(Also apparently the audio file itself is too big </3 so linking it instead /lh):

[ingravinoveritas]

Georgia talking about staged again and now their…… flirting? Is that what you would call putting a heart on Anna and her calling Georgia a flirt?? Radio silence from the both of them and now randomly there’s this.

Hi there! Well, I'm not sure it's really random. But let's get the visual up here first, for those who haven't seen Georgia/AL's Insta stories today:

So this seemed to start with Georgia posting the story about Staged playing on BBC iPlayer after she finished watching OFMD. The second story is the one with Georgia drawing the heart around AL, followed by the story with her drawing a heart around the glass of wine Michael is holding, and then Anna shared Georgia's story and called her a flirt.

The reason I don't believe this is random is because for the last several days, all everyone has been talking about online is Ineffable Con and Rob/Gavin's comments about the kiss between Michael/Aziraphale and David/Crowley. And as we've seen before, just when the conversation gets too focused on Michael and David, Georgia and AL post a story or photo to bring the attention back to them. It's actually fairly predictable at this point, since it's happened multiple times previously (though I would say this seems a bit more blatant than other instances, given that there isn't any reason for either of them to promote Staged right now).

My thought in regard to the "flirt" comment is that I agree with you in not understanding exactly how that reads as flirting (as it didn't come across that way to me). I do wonder if this is another attempt at Georgia and AL trying to be the female analogues to David and Michael (which we've also seen before), but it again doesn't work because they don't have that same chemistry or flirty dynamic that Michael and David have. Also, if this actually was "flirting," what was the purpose in GT circling the glass of wine? Is she flirting with the wine as much as AL? Once you look past the straightforward promotional aspect of these stories, it just seems very weird.

Weirdness is apparently the theme for the day, however, as there was also this reply from AL on Twitter earlier:

If you look at the timestamps, AL replied to this tweet/Michael's tweet exactly one minute after Michael replied. Going back to the idea of predictability, there's been nonstop discussion for the past several days about Michael and David kissing, and my first thought was that she seemed to just be looking for a reply that she could jump on and insert herself, to where I would not be surprised if she has notifications set up for his tweets for just such an occasion.

Upon further consideration, I did get the feeling that her "Where can I get one?" was not at all sincere in the way that Michael's was. It came across to me as a passive-aggressive way of reasserting her position (i.e., "I'm the only one who actually gets to love Michael Sheen"). It also makes it seem like she is fighting with the fans for Michael's attention, on top of already competing with David (although let's be honest, there is no competition there). More than that, however, I also got the feeling that AL copying his comment was her way of mocking him for wanting the t-shirt at all (i.e., "Look how stupid he is for wanting this stupid shirt"). Which of course is not something she would actually say, but the copied text along with the reply coming only one minute later makes it seem a bit circumspect. And it makes me feel sad for the fan who made the original post who may not realize what is really going on.

In any case, those are my thoughts on GT and AL's social media posts today. As I've always said before, I know I could be completely wrong in my interpretations, but the timing is just too strange for me to believe it's a coincidence. I'm happy to hear others' thoughts, though...

[anichibicore]

preview of an untitled klapollo fic featuring apollo being oblivious of his own feelings, trucy being her dad's daughter, and the realization that maybe daydreaming about doing mundane things with one of your colleagues on a regular basis is probably indicative of something.

edit: HEY CHECK NOTES FOR THE LINK PRETTY PLEASE TY

-----

"Hey, Polly, do you have a crush on Klavier?"

Apollo does his absolute best to not spit out his coffee, electing to instead just choke on it and hope it doesn't kill him. Once he recovers, he retorts in a much too loud voice, "No, I don't!"

"Really? But, you always look so giddy after seeing him! Are you sure?" Trucy bounces on the balls of her feet, smile never leaving her face. Apollo puts down the styrofoam cup before he ends up crushing it in his hand.

"Trucy, I'd like to think I'd know if I had a crush on someone." Apollo crosses his arms as he speaks.

"I don't know, you've missed more obvious things before. Besides, you stare at him the same way Daddy stares at Mr. Edgeworth when he thinks no one's looking."

Apollo decides to not unpack that one. He does not need to know the state of his boss's love life. "Hey, you do it too! Why am I getting singled out for this?"

"Polly, I'm a teenage girl, I'm supposed to have a celebrity crush on pretty guys." Apollo again decides to not unpack the fact Trucy starts fiddling with her cape when she says that.

"Thinking someone is pretty doesn't mean I've got a crush on them, Truce." And he's right. So what if the annoyingly attractive (wait, attractive?) rock star regularly shows up in his thoughts? He worries about the guy sometimes, that's all. So what if, sometimes, on occasion, (quite frequently) he daydreams about doing things as simple as going out for coffee with the guy? He just wants to get to know him more. As a friend.

"Mmhm, sure. Polly, did you know you fiddle with your sleeve when you're lying?"

He stops, suddenly acutely aware of his rolled up sleeve pinched between his fingers. "I'm just nervous. And not a fan of this line of questioning."

"Is it because I'm right? Your face has been red this whole time."

Is this what witnesses on the stand feel like when he does this? He feels Trucy's eyes boring into him and he suddenly feels empathetic for all the witnesses he's caught lying with his perceiving. "Well, wh–what do you want from me? You'd be embarrassed too if you were in my shoes!"

"So you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!"

"You're fiddling with your sleeve again."

He is. He's rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index finger.

Is she right? She can't be. Sure, he's thought about more romantic things with the prosecutor, and sure, maybe just thinking about kissing him (which he has only done now, because Trucy put the idea in his head. It's definitely never crossed his mind before. Not at all.) makes his heart soar. But that's a normal thing when you're faced with someone as beautiful (objectively speaking, of course) as Klavier Gavin, right?

Right?

"Oh my god, Polly." Trucy laughs.

He said all that out loud, didn't he?

"Yes. You did. I've never heard pining more obvious in my life."

Apollo puts his face in his hands and groans. "Why do you have to be right?!"

"I wouldn't be Wright if I wasn't right!"

Apollo shoos her out the door, keeping his face down in a vain attempt to hide his blush. "Get. Go. Leave. Out. Now."

"Did you know your blush reaches your forehead, too?"

"OUT!"

[yourssinfullyquiche]

Night

Hello, all you beautiful people🥰 Another installment in the 4 part Gavin (s.e.x) series. Yes, I was supposed to do Afternoon and Evening first but I'm still writing Afternoon and Evening has yet to be written. So...let's just skip to Night, shall we?

This is an NSFW work, and it's also a little angsty. I had to. I was desperate for angst TW: Unprotected sex, and...nothing else. I'm so bad at this

I come out of the bathroom, fresh as a dewdrop and see Gavin against the headboard of the bed, clothed in his tee and shorts, reading papers with his glasses on. It’s never used often, those glasses. Kept in a black zipped case, it remains on the bedside table ready for use when he wants to. Rather, when he has a splitting headache after reading too much too closely. Though, there are times when he adorns those golden spectacles for the surprised glint in my eyes that leads to heat spreading to my cheeks which results in me tugging my bottom lip with my teeth. 

I have an inkling of why it’s there today because the second I emerge from my shower, his eyes meet mine immediately in a gaze that tells me he’s not OK. It’s the kind where his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Behind that gaze is the lethargy of his recent mission that ended after a month, a sadness of which he has experienced that he’s yet to tell me. He looks like he’s about to cry driven by fear of loss. Ringed with dark circles, the reports he ought to be reading are abandoned with an unfocused mind. 

I stride towards Gavin, with a resolve of eliminating the feelings which feed into that look. He puts the papers aside and the spectacles on it, arms at his side to welcome my presence on his body. I don’t even bother changing into my pyjamas, only removing my bathrobe and tossing it onto the chair, knowing that his clothes would be strewn all over the floor. Clad only in my delicates, my legs straddle his hips. He cups my behind and pushes me up, securing me comfortably above him, levelled to his face. My hair falls encasing us in a curtain of floral vanilla scent—a secret reprieve, only the two of us share.

Our hands fiddle with our clothes—mine are gone in no time, my fingers move on to his shorts, pull it down in one go and throw it haphazardly. He’s bare and chuckling when he looks at me. “Don’t worry, the other half of my body won’t dare run away.” 

The delivery of that line should have me laughing but his voice is as empty as a hollow tree, something he tries to mask with cheekiness but fails. Though it twinges within, I don’t point it out. Instead I reciprocate with the intended cadence and smack his chest lightly, “I’ll be sure to use that line when you tear my clothes in shreds.”

He purposely averts his eyes all innocently with a satisfied smile on his face. The back of my fingers absentmindedly runs over his cheek as he tucks the spilling locks of my hair to one side. “What’s on your mind?” I ask. 

There, it’s that look again. That look in his eyes tells me he’s so afraid. He breathes heavily and pulls me closer into his warm embrace, protectively cradling the back of my head. I wait for his shaky breaths to dwindle and answer though I know it won’t come as easily. I look back at him to see his eyes glisten wistfully and then he says, “I’m so happy that you’re here with me.”

My face twists first into confusion and then understanding. I don’t pry further because that one line tells me everything I need to know. A smile forms on my face as I cup his cheeks. “There’s no place I will be than in your arms, my love.” 

The smile he gives me is loving and grateful as he brings me into his embrace once more. There’s a small lump forming in my throat, but I swallow it. There will be no tears for now, not when he needs my strength—and it comes full force as my fingers ghost over the deep lines on his body

All sizes with pains that ache my heart. I dance over the fresh gash across his sternum like they’re hot coals burning my fingers. Yes, it burns. It burns my entire being, makes my blood boil that he has to put himself through countless horrors—yes it is not deep, but the marking remains sufficiently angry to leave a scar crossing both his pecs. 

My thoughts halt when he looks at me with a pensive gaze. I remind myself that anger is not what I need now as well. I’ll not let him have the chance to comfort me, not when he’s clearly in need of some love. So, before he utters anything, I kiss lips, one he gladly sinks into. Desperate and breathless it becomes and it makes me float, taking away my mind that would eventually travel down the path of bitter horrifying stories it conjures. 

I caress his cheek with the back of my knuckles. Kiss all over his face. He chuckles as I flutter my eyelashes across his skin. I look into his eyes, tired but always exuding gentle love that sends a rush of warmth through my body. 

No words leave my lips, it only moves to join his again. Our kisses are unhurried and languid, a sweet dance. We save exploring each other’s bodies for another day, for today we yearn only for the warmth such nakedness provides. I raise and sink slowly down his cock. The chorus of sounds leave our lips at the pleasure of fullness we both feel, feeling so close to one another, the warmth that one can only feel when they’re skin to skin. 

One of his hands stays resting on my bottom and the other sneaks up to hold my nape, mine finds its way to the soft strands of his hair, and they stay put for anchor. I feel him engorged and pulsing in me. The burn of my core, the stickiness my legs feel and the incredible need to rise and slam hard into his body. I ignore all the impulse, instead we rock our bodies to a slow rhythm. Moving together and savouring the deliberate thrusts. 

Gavin’s lips caress my neck until they land at the corner of mine. “You feel so good,” he whispers against my lips, choking my sighs once more in a reverent kiss. Tonight, I let my lips take away his grief, my body take away his pain. Perhaps after, words will be shared once more, dead in the twilight wrapped around in sheets heated by the warmth of our bodies. 

The waves of pleasure crests within us yet we never hasten. I feel the usual jolt in my tummy, one look at him tells me we’re both about to fall over the cliff. “Together,” I tell him and he’s about to pull away when I stop him, clamping down. “I want it inside.” He stills, eyes wide as he stares at me for a few seconds. The question is clear. Are you sure? 

Softly he asks to confirm his thoughts, “Is that what you want or are you doing this because you think I want it?” 

I yearn, and perhaps I am doing this for him. But I don’t care. I know he’s the man I want to spend all my nights with wrapped in our sheets, the only one whose golden eyes I ache to meet when I wake. Somehow I know he needs that as well. To be so close to one another until the air we breathe diminishes. 

“I want it…,” breathlessly it dispels from my lips. 

I look at him and his eyes are glassy and dark to a deep shade of bourbon as he kisses my forehead. 

“Then come with me,” says Gavin.

We’re in one tight embrace as our bodies rock once more—a little faster, and within a few seconds we come undone in a gentle rush. I have no plans to move, to feel the emptiness that will instantly wash over—he doesn’t either when his hands stay tight around me. I feel the warmth of the duvet around my skin as we kiss goodnight and say I love yous before we drift to a slumber. 

-

A/N: Thank you for reading❤️ Updates will be quite slow since I'm working now. I had this piece in the drafts as I wrote it immediately after Morning. I waited so long only because I wanted to post it by order but the Afternoon piece is taking longer than expected. It's really out of my comfort zone, so writing it has been a slow process. To those of you reading, I appreciate your patience~

Credits to @cafekitsune for the lovely dividers😚

© YOURSSINFULLYQUICHE2023 — no part of this writing shall be plagiarised, translated or reposted in any way. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Taglist: @playheej@purple-cat-demon@rinharu-purple (if you want to join my taglist, please visit my blog and click the link available on my pinned post)

[chazzielynx]

Assigning Sleep Token Songs to Redacted Characters.

Hashtag is this too niche, lmao.

Characters in this post: Brachium, Geordi, Vincent, Avior, James, Blake, Hush, Regulus, Anton, Sam, Milo

Note: I am mainly using their latest album. All of these are just my opinions.

TW: Vincent's one briefly mentions self harm. Also Sleep Token is the opposite of angst free so read with caution.

Brachium - Chokehold (this bitch is getting angrier and angrier and I am heeere for it. "We act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake" GRAA)

Geordi - Granite (now I'm not here to hate on Cutie. But this song screams Geordi to Cutie. But specifically "so keep an eye on the road or we will both be here forever"?!?! Crying, sobbing)

Gavin - DYWTYLM (Early Gavin in particular. I feel like he truly thought they were only fond of his sexual favors in the beginning. So this is him questioning everything "it's getting harder to be myself" yeah. Yeeeeah)

Avior - Take Me Back To Eden (there are so many lines I could use here like fr. But I'd say this is mostly his anger about being stuck in that hellscape "I don't know what's got its teeth in me but I'm about to bite back in anger" I have his "what mindless force of nature" speech memorised at this point lmao)

Vincent - Are you really okay? (Now this might be projecting, but I feel like Lovely struggled more with all of what they went through than we might know. And Vincent so desperate to help but doesn't know how "cutting deeper than the scars could run" why do I do this to myself)

Porter - The Summoning (we only really know his sassy and his sexual side so far. This song screams dom-masochist. "You've got my body, flesh and bone, the sky above, the earth below"...need I say more)

Blake - Vore (this whole song screams hehe get it cause it's a heavy screaming song anyway seer wanting to devote his life to change their lover's fate: "there is always sth in the way I wanna have you to myself for once" Change my mind.)

James - Aqua Regia (now this is purely based off of vibes GIVE ME MY HUSBAND BACK ahem but I feel like this man would use fancy science words to explain his love. Also "running to your heart when you're thinking of" AHH)

Hush - Rain (this man needed one hug from Doc and he felt better. LIKE SIR "touch me again, I feel my shadow dissolving" whole song feels like him)

Ivan - Ascensionism (I feel like I could write an essay on how this describes Sadism Hold Ivan. But to demonstrate: "half algorithm, half deity" = Vega, "blood stains on the collar means just don't ask" = Baby, "you want someone to be your reflection" = Ivan)

Regulus - The Apparition (now, this is a little bit of a shot in the dark because except for last year's Halloween audio, I haven't listened to his playlist yet. But based on vibes, this seems to match. Don't come for me)

Anton - Euclid (little bit of a stretch mayhaps but this could be Anton away from his partner "call me when you get the chance, I can feel the walls around me closing in" and a lot more angsty lines)

Bonus Songs (because I love them)

Sam - Blood Sport (specifically this is Darlin in the beginning of their relationship, feeling like they're just dragging Sam into their bloody trauma "Even if [...] the heavens just won't open up for me, would you invite me in again?" Hmm)

Milo - Drag Me Under Again (now technically this is such an Avior song, like hello. But this feisty werewolf is in awe with his partner to this day. And he may not call himself a poet but this mf literally said "you feel like forever in my arms" HELLO SIR. So the admiration in this song fits)

[plutobutartsy]

i was actually just joking about vega and gavin being divorced with shared custody over caelum but i got a bit too silly and now it's just an actual au i have so uhhhh here are some thoughts

first off, unempowered/no magic au + no angst only fun bc caelum deserves it (and so do i)

i think gavin and vega only got divorced because after moving in with each other they noticed each other's annoying habits and just went "fuck no, i can't live with this guy forever"

nothing major just like,,

gavin taking REALLY long showers until all the hot water is gone

vega putting his dirty dishes in the sink instead of directly into the dishwasher

stuff like that

they both just got hit with a magnitude 8 ick on the richter scale and because they're both petty and dramatic they decided living seperately wasn't enough so they just HAD to get a divorce

so technically they're not on bad terms but again, they're just really petty so they bicker a lot and bring up dumb shit the other did for no reason other than to be annoying

they keep the fighting at a minimum in front of caelum (even though it's not really serious)

but once caelum is out of the room?? oh boy

they're 100% the type to kick each other under the table

they also definitely try to one up each other

constant debates on who the favourite is

@super-trouper-lights suggested freelancer as daycare worker but i think caelum is a bit older so they're his grade school teacher :)

they have an enormous amount of drawings the kids made them and caelum is deffo the one who makes the most

they try to hang all of the drawingd up in the classroom but once they run out of space they take some older ones down to keep them safe in a binder (more like multiple binders lol)

some of their older coworkers look down on them because they're very gentle with the kids, they think freelancer isn't strict enough

jokes on them because freelancer is amazing at their job and all the kids love them

both vega and gavin make time to go to the parent teacher conferences together and gavin is lowkey salty about it because he wants to spend time alone with freelancer

that's why he does a lot of volunteering to help with school events and such

one time he spent a month perfecting his brownie recipe for their bake sale with the sole intention of making something freelancer might enjoy

only for him to find out that they were allergic to nuts and couldn't have any

he was devastated

vega found out because caelum told him and laughed at gavin for a solid 10 minutes

pet works at the local arts and crafts store that caelum insists on going to like once a week at LEAST

after vega met the for the first time he kept finding excuses to go back there, to the point where he had to convince caelum that no, he doesn't have enough glitter and yes, they have to go to the store right NOW

after a month he finally asked them to have coffee with him and they said yes

they started officially dating a few weeks after that <3

and YES vega definitely brags to gavin about being with pet while gavin hasn't even asked freelancer out yet

gavin's main concern is not wanting to make freelancer uncomfortable or to cross any boundaries or god forbid get them into trouble for dating a student's parent

so he is resolved to wait until caelum moves on to middle school (he's slowly going insane)

freelancer actually developed feelings for him as well after spending so much time with him organizing school events but they want to keep it professional and they're afraid they might misread gavin's kindness and passion as him being interested in them

"he's just a really dedicated parent i can't believe i'm making this about myself :("

freelancer and gavin truly are peak idiots to lovers

also, freelancer gets all their supplies for the class from the same store pet works at so they know each other and have gotten quite close over time :)

while freelancer is decent at arts and crafts, they're definitely not good at it (they're the teacher that prefaces every drawing they show in class with "now i'm no ARTIST")

pet on the other hand is really good at all artsy things

name a medium and they're good at it i gurantee it

so naturally caelum is amazed by them and always wants them to show him how to make certain things

vega always just wants to watch but pet and caelum talk him into joining them and he literally sucks at most of it lol

the only thing he's good at when it comes to art is folding paper boats and airplanes

pet also makes their own jewellery

at this point they made so much for vega that he pretty much exclusively wears stuff they made

ofc caelum also gets his own jewellery

he makes them friendship bracelets in return

they have a ton of them and wear a different one every day

this is a lot longer than i intended so i'll wrap it up here but if anyone has any thoughts on this please share :D

psst there's a part 2 now 👀

[malimaywrite]

gavin/freelancer | mature | wc: 7.1k

cw: mentions of childhood emotional neglect

notes: she/they freelancer, physical descriptors of characters included, non-canon backstory included, banner image from 'fall of icarus' (1607) by carlo saraceni, title taken from 'sunlight' by hozier | read on ao3 (log-in required)

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful. They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked. It terrified him. /// five times Gavin meant to say 'I love you.' (Takes place from months before to the night of 'Your Dom Incubus Confesses His Feelings to You')

the icarus to your certainty (oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight)

“You are wonderful, Freelancer. The light in my heart.”

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful.

They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked.

It terrified him.

“Who's watching who sleep now?” Freelancer muttered, all at once too close and too far from the racing in his chest. They stretched away from him for a moment. His bare skin where their arms had been cooled.

He ignored the incessant noise beyond his rib cage and propped up a smirk.

“I'm simply primed for an early morning round,” he said.

They snorted. And his heart gave a hard thud even at that. He stilled himself with a deep breath—taking in all vanilla and shea butter. All them.

“You are greedy,” they said, dragging out the last word. Their smile widened and the sun brightened.

“I could've said the same to you last night.” He tilted his head from their pillowcase. “Or the night before or the night before.”

He found himself pulling them in closer and closer with each 'or.' Freelancer needed thicker blankets. The morning chill always managed to slip underneath their sheets was all. Pulling them closer long after they'd reached euphoria kept him warmer. That was all. He told himself so for the thousandth time, each time rang more hollow. But a couple weeks ago, he'd started to admit it was partially to stave off his least favorite part of their morning afters.

Freelancer's arm draped across him again. They buried their face just into the crook of his neck and along the pillow. He rested his chin on the cloud of their hair. His hand caught in the coils and curls there. His other trailed along their back while Freelancer's fingers drew lazy circles along his. Their chest rose and fell against him, light breaths against his collarbone.

He didn't know how long they held each other. He didn't, but worlds could have collided and Aria could have turned to stardust and he wouldn't have dared to move. He'd have gladly spent his eternity just like that. Home.

He froze. That familiar terror pinpricked along his spine again. It overwhelmed him, bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed it down. That usually helped. Freelancer's fingers stopped their art. He scrambled for a sly comment, an innuendo. Something to distract them and himself.

“You okay?” they said, pulling away. Dark brown eyes stared up. A line formed between their brows.

An instinct. He placed a kiss right along the furrow, hoping to will it away. His lips lingered for a moment. Their face soft when he met their gaze again. The gentle kindness in them. The awe that swelled in him as he followed the sharp line of their nose and curve of full lips. His heartbeat banged a loud and cascading roar in his ears.

For weeks and weeks that fear had blossomed from the smallest of seeds. Every smile, every gaze, every touch ignited it. Another swallow. It hardly helped.

One of their eyebrows rose. He finally got himself to nod. A pause. Another soft smile from them. And the sun blazed—blinded him. The sharpest terror struck him yet again and he realized its actual name, the phrase that explained it. The truest of words.

He loved them.

He loved them.

“You sure?” They curled into him again. Their turn to pull him in. “You stiffened up a bit.”

The three words echoed in his head like a song. He tried to think of another tune before the air in the room could dissipate.

“Of course, deviant,” he let out slowly. “Your naked body is pressed up against me.”

They laughed. “My naked body is pressed up against you often.”

“But 'often' surely isn't enough.”

He felt their smile against him before they rolled away with another stretch. They sat on the edge of the bed completely out of reach. There it was. There was his least favorite part of morning afters.

Freelancer checked their phone from their organized clutter of a nightstand, balked, and shot up faster than he could blink. They grabbed one of the sheets to cover themself. The three-worded song in his head played too loudly for him to conjure up a remark quick enough.

“'Often' will have to be enough,” they said. “I set it for PM, not AM.”

They grumbled at themself before darting to the bathroom in a half tiptoe, half sprint. The dragging sheet dropped before the door clicked shut. He didn't realize he'd had his own small smile on his face until the sound made it drop, until the room chilled after. The most unsteady of breaths left him as the faucet cut on beyond the door.

He loved them. He loved them with everything in him and he didn't know what to do.

///

It happened when she yelled. Or yelped, rather.

“Why are you headed towards the only other car in the parking lot?” she said. A quick and strangled laugh followed.

Gavin gripped the steering wheel—both hands, as she'd requested—and slowed their crawl of a drive across their corner of the campus lot into a near stop. Her car—Chip, named for the several paint scuffs that decorated its bumper ever since she bought the used vehicle—sat at an angle across the white lines.

“Because when I drive well,” he started slow. Wondered if he should elude the truth, slip out of reach of sincerity. “When I drive well, you stop speaking.” He failed. He wanted to hear her voice, his spellsong. Always.

Even if it only begged him to use a blinker.

A heavy pause. He'd shifted the air, stifled it of the lighthearted. He dared to look at her and her face scrunched up. Warmth radiated off of her with that small smile, blanketed and eased any twist of tension in him. Beautiful.

“What is a demon on the road to do without direction?” he said, catching the daze in his own voice.

Freelancer lifted her eyebrows. “You want me to command you.”

He'd shifted things back into place. The drop in her voice and playful twinkle in her dark brown eyes threatened to shift something else. A quick and subtle surge of sexual energy from her flowed through him, made him sit up straighter.

He smiled. “We have tried it a few times.”

He never longed to be a telepath, but the second surge that rushed through him in wave told him she took a moment to relive one of those tries in her mind. He wanted to relive it with her.

She shook her head after an audible breath. Her focus lasered in on the emptied pavement ahead of them. He loved when she did that. He caught it during her long—sometimes too long—study sessions, her eyebrows bunched as she peered over lines of text. He etched it in his mind when she squinted in the mirror, comb in hand, and she tried to part her coils for braids; when she huffed, cheeks puffed, and stirred egg whites into stiff peaks during their dessert days.

She took another heavy breath. The tiniest surge. Barely enough to taste. He held in a sly comment.

“Let's head out to the street after one more lap.” Her voice steady. “I have a reward for you if you decide to be a traffic law-abiding citizen.”

His turn to lift an eyebrow. Oh? “Yes, deviant,” Gavin said.

They'd squeezed in some driving practice between her 17th century western magic history and intermediate levitation classes over the past week. Huxley's away game meant an almost six-hour road trip over the weekend and Damien declared that everyone would contribute to the drive over and back. An agreement everyone felt comfortable with until Gavin mentioned he couldn't remember the last time he drove. Lasko's eyes had widened at that. And they only grew wider when Gavin mentioned he somehow still had a license, however.

Freelancer had offered a driving retread before the concern could spill from Lasko's pretty mouth.

Gavin hadn't quite needed the lessons—the only thing related to humans' fast-moving metal contraptions that really confused him still were roundabouts—but it meant spending more time with Freelancer. A gift he'd always receive with gratitude, with reverence. As long as their lessons didn't mean longer study sessions for her or added stress, he'd welcome it. He found himself taking a couple glances over to her as the towering thick trees and D.A.M.N. dorms whipped by to see if she did as well.

He eased to a stop at the oncoming red light, flicked on his blinker, and waited to make a right turn. Students roamed by in a flurry of school logos and heavy book bags. Once they cleared out, he headed on. The sidewalk pedestrians and bars of the university stadium entrance in the distance blurred.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. Light and quick, the softest of touches.

Heat rose along the length of his neck, simmering up to his temples and to the tips of his ears. Luckily, the next light caught them right at the line. It was a little harder to ease into that stop. What? Gavin didn't know it was possible to surprise himself.

“What?” Freelancer said.

Whiplash might have followed with how quickly he faced her. He felt the confusion on his own face. Freelancer raised an eyebrow, snorted.

“You said 'what,'” she said with a smile in her voice. She leaned forward. Looked directly at his cheek. “Are you..?” Closer.

He was. He had never before. And especially not over the most chaste of kisses.

He caused flushed cheeks—trembling hands, flubbed sentences, and ceaseless moans—out of others. Once he sensed the person's attraction to him, it could happen as easily as blinking for him. Not a single instance of nighttime rendezvous and midday flirting had someone made Gavin blush. What in all of Aria was wrong with him? A thrum, an echo, a song played in the back of his head yet again—bang, bang, banged in his chest. He ignored it. He had to. It threatened to swallow him whole.

“Deviant,” he said, all performance as the light flickered green and traffic continued on. “I have been graced with a sizable share of kisses from you. Along every inch of me.” His words slowed. His lips on her body a trail that his mind followed. “And—while a welcome gift—a soft kiss to the cheek can't be enough to make a sex demon blush.”

It can't.

It can't.

It was.

It was when it came to Freelancer.

“Plus, Chip's A/C isn't working as well as it once was,” he added before he could stop himself.

He felt her smile before he spotted it in his peripheral. Warmth radiated from around Freelancer in rays. The sense of comfort and care from her wrapped around him. He swallowed hard. The only thing he wanted to do was nuzzle in it. He opened his mouth, hoping to remind her of the many times Chip had to bear witness to their rapture. But Freelancer's hand traveled the length of his arm until she pulled one of his own from the steering wheel and laced her fingers with his. Their linked hands rested between them. Her thumb glided along the back of his hand.

That familiar and incessant pounding. A frantic search for a tease followed. She had wanted both of his hands on the steering after all. But he found something else first: a beg. A bellow of a beg for him to not send her hand away from his—to not mess up what felt right. Of course that was where his hand should've been. Of course it was always, always, always meant to be interlocked with hers.

Thoughts like that had grown to loom larger and larger, harder to cut down and distract with each passing day. Maybe. Maybe he could've let them roam.

He lifted their hands and gave his own chaste kisses. One to each of her knuckles. Each one pressed three words against her skin.

///

It happened while knots formed and twisted tighter, threatening to snap with every Mother's Day Sale commercial and multi-colored tulip bouquet that seemed to catch her eye. He called her name in the middle of the grocery store—his hands full of her preferred pastry flour—as she stared at a set of pink balloons. The words 'Best Mom Ever' decorated the plastic in cursive. He rubbed her wrist at Max's—calling her hadn't worked that time—as her eyes bore into two women that ate in the booth behind him. The only difference between their small features was age as they sat closer than what seemed feasible. Freelancer flinched and smiled away his concern each time—clouds covered the sun.

Each knot tightened the closer that Sunday inched. He attempted to distract her the best ways he knew how—worshiping every line of her, leading her to the wealth of bliss she deserved when she wanted. He attempted to distract her in the ways he'd forced himself to learn how. He binged every comfort show she'd mentioned during their pillow talks with her. He'd hum the tune to the one with the field and parks in the introduction, recite parts of the opening monologue from the cartoon with the air elemental. It earned him a smile that lit her up each time.

Gavin tried every “kitchen sink” cookie recipe he could find, swapping with the human and magic way each time. He tasted cookie dough with her and off of her fingers. Her eyes gleamed every time a fresh cookie instantly appeared in his hand. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time while they waited for batches to bake. He gave her space when she asked. He recruited friends when Freelancer had the bandwidth for socializing. Huxley, Lasko, and Damien up for board, card, and video game parties often. Caelum ready for couch cuddling and more cartoons just the same. Every time he heard her laugh, something surged in him. He could feel when the knots in her loosened ever so slightly as if they were his own.

But that Sunday still came.

Gavin tasted her as morning streamed in from the curtains, they showered together, and made breakfast. He made sure to keep the television on streaming—keeping the commercials at bay—all the romantic comedies lined up and ready for another binge. With Freelancer's head going from his shoulder to his lap in 45-minute increments, they made it through two movies before she got up. She headed to her room with her phone in hand as credits rolled. Told him to give her a second, to start the next one if she took too long for him. The final logos appeared before she did. A tight smile on her face and the knots even tighter. The same thing again after the next film. Another departure, another twist.

He didn't want to press her, only held her hand when she rested against him again. A reminder that he'd be right there when she wanted to tell him what caused the new coiling, if it wasn't only the day itself doing so.

Freelancer left again in the middle of the next movie. Gavin paused. The 'Last Holiday' summary faded in over the actors' faces as she darted by.

“You didn't have to. I've seen this part,” she muttered. “Sorry, I'll be right back.” Another attempt at a smile. It dropped.

Gavin's stomach did the same.

Freelancer disappeared into the room. He started for the door after minutes that moved like days, but she burst out of the room before he could make it to the hallway. The phone gone and replaced with her half open book bag.

“I have a lot to do,” she said under her breath. Her frown deep, her head aimed at the floor, her shoulders low.

She maneuvered around him. Dropped herself and her bag with a thud between the plush of the pastel green couch and the dark hardwood of the long coffee table. She rummaged through her bag with her eyes still aimed at the floor. His chest ached in the worst of ways.

The feeling radiating from her sunk him into the depths of Dahlia. The heavy weight of despair, the cold and sterile and impenetrable fog of devastation. His insides quaked.

“I still have two finals to get through,” she said. Her fingers flicked through pages, never landing on anything. “I just have a lot to do. We can finish the movies later.”

He sat next to her, taking her in. She didn't look at him. Her eyes blinked hard at her textbook, portraits of famous energetics and elementals of the past few centuries flashed by.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to place his hand on top of her frantic ones, cradle her face, rub her back. Anything to soothe her.

“Freelancer?” he said. That dear word asking all the questions and spilling all the worries he had in him.

A pause.

Freelancer's hands stopped moving. Dark brown eyes still on the page.

“I'm blocked,” she said. Her voice harbored the slightest tremble.

His head tilted, but he kept quiet. Waited. Let that beautiful mind of hers work through what she wanted, what she needed to say next.

“She still won't answer the phone.”

The room went cold. The tears Freelancer had tried to blink away spilled over. She finally turned to him.

“Gavin, she won't answer the phone.”

A choked back sob. A tear inside of him. They reached for each other at the same time. He cradled all of her on the floor. She gripped his shirt tight as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin. His chin rested along the puff of her curls. His arms wrapped around her as if doing so was all that would hold him together too.

The devastation thickened, threatening to choke him. Every sniff and gasp from her tore at him. He noticed the quake that shook his being again when she trembled against him. His magic. It did the same with her. Shuddering. The thuds in his chest begged him to clear the fog, to send her pain to the stars. His neck muffled her soft cries. His magic burned when she held onto him tighter. He did the same to her.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so...”

He shook his head. He'd expected her to say it. She apologized a little less now when people bumped into her, when she said 'no' to things, but apologizing when any emotion besides pure happiness made an appearance still happened often.

“You don't have to apologize for feeling,” he said again. He'd say it over and over until he could one day sense her belief in it. “You're hurting, Freelancer. Let yourself feel what you need to without judgment.”

Freelancer's childhood and adolescent stories made it seem as though her parents never allowed her that. Treated her as though she'd come into being fully formed and ready to care for everyone without complaint. Stories of her walking home from school to an empty house right before her younger siblings—all expectations for her to heat them food when she was barely even big enough to see the stove properly, to help them with their homework before she got to hers, to send them to bed before she got to dream. Her mother's only comment to her after a late night arrival was to critique the way Freelancer washed the dishes.

How her mother's distance began after Freelancer first showed her mom that she could make her old dolls fly.

“At least she didn't seem to hate me as much when I helped around the house,” Freelancer had said the night she'd first told him with a soft and weak laugh.

Gavin closed his eyes. Held her just that much tighter just like he'd done then.

Tales of the gap years “tending to the household” between high school and her local unempowered humans' university, the several semesters of mornings working at her neighborhood bakery and getting her siblings ready for school, her afternoons in lecture halls, her evenings either back to work or with her head in her books filled the nighttime talks between them. Any mention of stress in those years, of not being able to leave her bed was met with irritated dismissal from her mother. The pressure had built up in her, right in her core until it cracked.

“I couldn't do it anymore,” she had mumbled against his chest.

“You shouldn't have had to.”

The shatter happened days after she'd had to declare her withdrawal from college—the financial, mental, and physical strain too much—and hours before the high school graduation party for her youngest brother. One cold comment from her mother about how late Freelancer managed to pull herself out of bed, another on how she cooked the breakfast eggs too early, another about how her cake's icing hadn't set properly, how she'd set the tables wrong, how she didn't know how to tie her brother's tie, how she was of no help.

Freelancer remembered crying and opening her eyes to screams, shouts of 'where did she go?' The table, couch, and breakfast bar stools hovered high against the popcorn ceiling. She hadn't realized she'd cloaked until she ran into her room, flickered in and out of view in her dresser mirror. Freelancer was kicked out of the house by sunset.

“Why won't she at least just answer the phone?” Freelancer whispered. Barely audible even with her mouth so close.

After almost three months alone, all she essentially had was the name of a rumored magical academy and the auras she could always vaguely sense, but not name herself yet.

Freelancer's softening sniffs pulled him back fully. He rocked her ever so slightly as her grip on his shirt loosened. He wished on Aria that he could go back to those months, to the day Freelancer's magic finally had to scream out, to the years she spent small, suppressing, and placing a household on her shoulders because that seemed like the only way she could receive a single emotion beyond disdain from her mother.

“It's my first mother's day without...” she started. She didn't have to finish it.

He couldn't make up for it, the affection and care she deserved then. No one could. But he would spend all his eternities giving her all the affection and care he had in him. He didn't know if he could pull her any closer, but he tried. He'd always try. Her breathing steadied and his magic, his entire being, did the same.

Three words roared in his head for the umpteenth time since he'd finally admitted them that one terrifying morning. He let them spill from his mouth. It morphed into three different ones. Their meaning all the same.

“I'm sorry, Freelancer.”

///

Freelancer pulled the sheet over Caelum as he slept on the couch. A couple of their multicolored scrunchies rested along the base of his lavender horns and Dory stickers sat along his puffed cheeks. The credits for the fifth Pixar movie of the day scrolled up on the television screen. Freelancer smiled down at him before moving a small bowl of tropical skittles away from his limp hands.

Gavin didn't fight the smile that rose on his own face. Nor how much it grew when they approached him. The sun, all warm and bright. He leaned against the doorframe to their kitchen as Freelancer stopped right in front of him.

“I'm so glad he doesn't have to rely on actual sustenance from us,” they whispered. They popped a skittle in their mouth.

Gavin tilted his head. “Oh, don't be so harsh on yourself, deviant,” he started, voice quiet as well. “You have been a delectable source of sustenance for me at least.”

They snorted. A roll of the eyes followed a flicker of a glimmer before they headed into the kitchen. He let out a small, soft laugh as he joined them.

Freelancer poured the excess candy back into its bright blue packaging. They clipped it closed after pouring a handful into their mouth.

“You know?” they said through the candy. “I refuse to wake him, but I don't want the last movie he watched tonight to be 'Cars 2.'” They seemed to consider then shrugged. “As long as he liked it though then it's fine.”

“He did go...what was it?” Gavin said.

“Ka-chow,” they grumbled.

His smile grew. “That's right. 'Ka-chow' about fifty times before we got to middle.”

They pulled out three mugs. Gavin already knew what they were about to make. He leaned down to the low cabinets. They set out the one big and small grater. He pulled out a saucepan to place on the stove and turned it to medium-low. Freelancer poured milk in and then pulled out a bar of their favorite semisweet chocolate. They both started grating after Gavin added a pinch of sugar to the pan like he'd seen them do all the times before.

They both gave reviews of the movies they'd finished. Gavin had taken a liking to the one with the little robot, swore to Freelancer that someone who worked on the emotions one had to be empowered, and wondered why anyone would go to a stadium to only watch screens in the monsters' college one. They both finished their grating and Gavin poured the shavings into a glass bowl, letting Freelancer heat it up in the microwave. He'd somehow set it to defrost and low power last time he tried to warm anything in it.

The first set of thirty seconds hummed to a beep before Freelancer spoke up again.

“They have exemption exams,” they said.

He raised an eyebrow, running through the monsters' college movie in his head again. “When did they mention exemption exams?”

They shook their head. “Oh, no not in the movie,” they said. “D.A.M.N.”

He stilled, barely. But it was enough that Freelancer's gaze traveled to his shoulders, his stance. He forced himself to loosen. He didn't even know where they were headed. An eyebrow remained high and he made sure a sly smirk covered his face.

Freelancer held steadier than him. “You remember a few nights ago?”

“I remember all of our nights, deviant,” he said. “We can reminisce on the first, second, and third time you came apart for me last night.”

They didn't take the bait.

“We only kinda talked about it once,” they said. “But, you've been mentioning things about school for a couple weeks now.” They finished with a soft smile. One that made him want to step closer.

Had he?

His comment from last week hit him. Whilst walking Freelancer to class, he'd somehow got on the subject of how inconceivably handsome he'd look in a cap and gown. Another from a couple nights ago where Freelancer mused over making their schedule for next semester, rambled over an electro class they were nervous to take. Gavin urged them to head to Lasko if a class ever made them uncomfortable. How he wished he could have done the same. A final comment from yesterday. Freelancer had sent in their last essay for the semester and during a celebratory round of pizza and wings, he'd mentioned how much he had grown fond of writing essays back then—even the research ones.

Freelancer made it sound as though there were even more examples.

“It was on the D.A.M.N website,” they started again. “They had it a little hidden in the 'academics' section, but you can take this pretty comprehensive exam and get full certification. We can ask Lasko about it.”

Full certification.

The words a pang in both his sides. He'd stored that hope away after classes where he'd caught a whisper or two of 'leech' as he passed rows of classmates, after more than one professor scoffed at his interest in any subject that didn't center around him fucking, when morphing himself into someone he wasn't to get an A made him want to fade back into the Elision Well.

Freelancer had asked him if he'd wanted to go back for full certification awhile ago. The conversation flipped when he asked them if they wanted to be 'full of him.'

He must have been quiet for too long. He couldn't gather up an innuendo in any of it. His mind rummaged through all the reasons he'd set that goal aside and buried it deep.

Freelancer wrapped their arms around him, looking up.

“We can do study sessions together,” they said with another smile that rivaled the stars. They rubbed his back. His shoulders eased. “I can get you back for all the other sessions we've had. We could do practice quizzes, we could do the whole review and have you explain concepts back to me, we could do flash cards. I love a good set of flashcards.”

Light swelled in his chest. He'd finally managed to move his arms around them, their words jolting his body.

“If you want to go the other route, I can make sure you don't have to take that shitty class ever again,” they said. All defiance and defense in their voice. He took in a deep breath and shea butter comforted him. “You shouldn't have to since you already have the credits. I'll head down to any counselor's office if they tried it.”

Gavin could not get a single word out of his mouth. Care and conviction radiated off of them with enough intensity to warm him up from the inside out. Waves of it hugged him tight.

“You get to choose how you get it,” they said, "if you want to get it."

That got his mouth to open, but he had to take more than a couple of deep breaths in. There didn't seem to be enough air in the kitchen.

“It was a joke, Freelancer,” he said, deflating. “They were jokes. What you all call 'the funnies.'”

Freelancer only kept their gaze on him. So gentle and kind. It overwhelmed him, stripped him naked in the only way that made him uncomfortable.

They nodded, but placed their warm hands along his cheeks to cradle his face. The slightest tremble of a chill rushed through him. Their lips against his, just as gentle as their gaze had been.

They tasted sweet.

Their forehead rested against his for days, months, centuries. All until they pulled away enough to look at him again.

“I know in my heart of hearts that you would do amazing, Gavin.”

The sun would never set again.

Gavin had to will himself to take in breaths slow. Freelancer's words carved themselves into the depths of him. He'd never had someone, anyone give the slightest hint that he could strive for something—accomplish something. Heaviness in his chest. That familiar thrum and song that played in his head. He welcomed it. And the tiniest candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach, one that once went out when he too declared his withdrawal from school. It felt a bit like hope. That hope felt safe with them.

He wasn't ready to fan the flame larger. He'd explain that to them later. He didn't know if he ever would be, but their dark eyes on him made ask himself again.

“Thank you, Freelancer,” he said with his song. His voice garbled even to his own ears.

Freelancer dropped one hand and rubbed his cheek with the other. The room continued to suffocate him, everything in him threatened to bubble over. He almost asked to step away for a moment. Instead, he let his head tilt, let it relax into their hand. They'd beamed at him before he closed his eyes. Their thumb still grazed his cheek, their body so close to his. All warmth radiating from them yet again.

The softest of any laughs huffed through his nose. All those romantic comedies they'd finished. The declarations from the tops of monuments and between the greenery of parks. None of them—not a scene nor a monologue—had described love well enough.

He opened his eyes to the sun again and kissed them.

A knock and a creak of the door before it could even register.

“I tried really, really, really, really, really hard to wait for when smooches were over to ask,” Caelum started at the door, sheets wrapped around him and over his head. They pulled apart with a snort from Freelancer. It took Gavin a bit longer to blink out of his haze. “I even knocked like you told me to, Gavin, but I didn't know how many times to knock to stop the smooches. Smooches were making you both really, really happy and I want you both to be really, really, really, really happy 'cause it makes me really, really really, really, really happy times infinity and infinity is a big number. I think it's the biggest...”

Caelum continued his ramble as Freelancer turned off the boiling milk. They headed to him, patted the sheet pulled taut over his head and horns. Caelum interrupted his numbers ramble to circle back to the topic of 'smooches.' Another easy smile graced Gavin's face.

“After smooches,” Caelum continued, “can we watch Rata—ratatulle? Ratatoe? Ratatat? Ra—can we watch the rat one?”

Freelancer threw an arm around his shoulder. He moved closer into them with a little shuffle before they spun back to face the living room.

“Absolutely,” they said. “And I think it might even be infinity plus one times better than the one we just watched.”

Caelum gasped as they both left. “Infinity plus one?”

The door swung shut and their muffled talk faded. The small smile on Gavin's face only grew. A huff of a laugh through his nose. That light, a kaleidoscope of color filled him to the brim. The haze and daze still hovered all around him, spinning him around as he stood still. He half-wondered how his legs hadn't given out, how much wider his smile could get. His cheeks ached. The imprint of their hands continued to warm them.

That candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach grew.

///

“Really though,” Freelancer said, gesturing to the night sky. “She's gonna wake up every day not knowing who he is or her own kid. In her mind, she went to bed years ago in her own room in a house with her dad and brother. She wakes up and she's on a boat with a whole kid and husband.” Their jaw dropped. “The days where she woke up visibly pregnant.” Their eyes widened.

Gavin snorted as they huffed. Their head rested on his lap. They both lounged at the center of the courtyard along the trimmed grass, between the reach of high-branched hackberry and pistache trees—Huxley had told him the names. Underneath lamp posts' glows, an occasional student strolled down the alumni bricks of the walkways—the names and years of graduates of old etched into the steps leading to study halls.

“Horror story,” Freelancer finished. A forced shudder ran through them. “Not a bad movie, but I think we should start on the pure comedies next.”

He raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to..?”

A smile from them. One rose on his own face before he even noticed it.

“Is there one you want to start with?”

He'd considered after a moment. Freelancer asked him what he wanted often—movies, food, how he wanted them—and he still wasn't used to it.

“I do remember a certain 'Spaceballs' coming up in conversation,” he said slow, ready for their reaction.

“How did I not guess that would be the title you'd remember?” they said. They rocked side-to-side against him. “We should do that first then try 'Friday.'”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Don't the five of us have that trail hike then?”

They shook their head. The curls of their afro danced along his upper thighs. He placed a hand along the coils puffing at their hairline, fingers gliding over the soft strands. Freelancer closed their eyes for a few moments and breathed in deep. That familiar warmth radiated off of them. Their eyes shot open.

“Oh, no,” they said. “It's a movie.”

That didn't help the confusion. “They made a movie about a day?” A head tilt. He shrugged inwardly the humans made movies about talking toys. The concept wasn't that odd.

“Not technically,” they said. “It's a specific Friday for these characters.” A pause. “It's where that one old phrase 'Bye, Felicia' came from.”

His expression must have given him away. They seemed to read it quickly.

“It's a phrase to dismiss someone,” they explained, waving away the sky. “She was a neighbor?” Another shake of the head. “She came over to the main character's house and wanted to borrow their microwave. Or was that a different scene?” They waved themselves away that time. “We'll see.”

He huffed. “Why anyone would want to do that escapes me.”

“One day I'll get you to use one properly,” they said with a quick laugh—music that floated up beyond the leaves.

He waited for both songs to quiet just enough for him to speak.

“There are more important lessons, my deviant,” he said. A pull dragged him down to kiss them.

Freelancer kept their eyes closed long after he'd straightened back up. Their full lips drawn into another smile. Gavin nearly kissed them again.

Their recent movie review soon followed. Freelancer reminisced over the 'dial-up noise' and the robotic 'You've Got Mail' voice. They both bounced scenes of their favorite Tom Hanks—Freelancer had to remind him of the actor's name twice—movies. They each attempted to remember the complete, itemized list of the ways to make shrimp that one of the major characters mentioned in a favorite—they always forgot one of the two ways to fry it.

Their talk trailed off into Gavin's attempt to help Freelancer make fried sweet potato hand pies and how often Gavin had asked them why they'd clutched a box of baking soda so tight. They agreed to make the apple pie version soon and Freelancer remembered the last time they'd had it. They'd scarfed them down on an elementary school camping trip as all the other kids looked up at the stars too and made up their own connected constellations. Freelancer and Gavin proceeded to do the same through fits of laughs and innuendos Gavin made sure to find. And Freelancer asked if they both could look at the same set of stars when he was in Aria.

The moon roamed higher in the black ink of the sky and they quieted down after long, settling into comfortable near-silence of cicadas and footsteps. The gold hue from the lamp posts painted Freelancer's dark brown skin, highlighted the same deep tone in their eyes. Both of their gazes remained locked on the other and that was all it took.

The earth pulled him under and he couldn't look away from them, tethered. He felt his breaths deepening, felt the air shake inside him. The song drummed in his head louder than any passing conversation and toll of the courtyard bell. It traveled down from the top of his head to the tips of his ears to the center of his chest. Louder and louder as they looked at each other. That haze of light, of care and affection and warmth was home to him. It hovered from them to him. He knew it radiated from him too. He wished they could sense it from him. He had to let them know. He needed them to know.

His heart, all double-timed thuds slammed against his rib cage at the prospect. My love, my love, my love was what the thuds sounded like. He swallowed hard.

Gavin had to distract himself. Had to pull back.

He kissed Freelancer instead.

Slow, languid. The song deafened him. Their lips soft against his. The roaring, the pounding only grew louder. He had expected it.

He breathed them in once their lips parted, finally a steady inhale.

Gavin meant to mutter one of his innuendos. He scavenged for one about the kiss, about their head in his lap. Anything. Anything to lessen how overwhelming it was just to look into their eyes again. He couldn't find one.

He sat there with Freelancer under the stars, holding each other with their gazes, and that was enough for him. More than enough. It felt like coalescing, coming into being all over again when he was with them. All natural and ease and magic. That same magic thrummed in him like it called to them.

Gavin was so immensely and impossibly happy.

“What are you thinking?” Freelancer said softly.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An instinct.

He let that clear and truest song play as his scavenge finally found him a sly remark. It felt like the last one he would be able to dig up over this before everything in him forced out that spellsong to them. His fingers trembled as he laced them with theirs.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An unsteady breath once again.

“What you'll look like tied up underneath me,” he said low. Voice trembled even more than his hand had, more than any teasing comment that slithered from his mouth ever had.

Freelancer didn't scoff or roll their eyes. No wave or ripple of sexual energy rushed off of them. No soft slap to his chest or giggling shift away from him. Only that same warmth. Brighter.

They squeezed his hand.

“Me too,” they said. Just as low as him. Their eyes gleamed as he watched their smile rise.

And sunlight beamed in the middle of the night.

[veilder]

please excuse my word vomit but I shortened the hell out of my caption to avoid being annoying and your tags on my art sent me into a frenzy haha

so my favorite pre relationship dynamic for convin (and in my current fic) they start out as enemies with benefits who accidentally develop feelings but are in denial and know the smart thing to do is to stop and so every time they hook up is the last time (until the next time). and you’re right I drew gavin with the pained expression bc he’s the first one to realize his feelings are feelings but he doesn’t think he deserves connor and he thinks connor wants this to stay physical and that hurts but 1. he thinks he deserves the hurt and 2. he’ll take what he can get for as long as he can get it (hahaha ow). I’m allergic to happy endings in my own writing but I wholly support your happily ever after 😄

also no pressure at all just floating the idea but I’d be so down if you ever wanted to do a collab :] anyways yeah I’m happy you liked my pic and your comments always bring me joy, keep on being wonderful

Omggggggg, what a great ask to get!!! Thank you so much for sending this! 🤩🤩🤩 So, one, your idea behind your art is wonderful and fits them both perfectly. Two idiots getting in over their heads and catching feelings? Yep, that's them, lol. Although, I'm already imagining a happy ending for the two of them, even in that scenario, so whoops! XD I know for me, when I saw your art I was thinking that they were set to be separated. Specific scenarios were still up in the air (i.e. investigation gone awry, some sort of terminal condition, human!AU college fling, historical!AU, etc), but there would be some sort of circumstance that would drive the two of them apart. And this would be the scene of them making the most of their last days together, with Connor throwing his whole self into it while Gavin, in an effort to make the inevitable separation hurt less, begins to withdraw, even though it hurts him. And it would lead to a really messy breakup where they both say hurtful things and are just left with so many regrets. But then... there would be some sort of timeskip and they would meet again, both very changed now but never forgetting the impact the other had on their life. And again, something would force them together, whether it's work or some sort of mystery or even just running into each other over and over again. And they would both realize that the other hasn't really changed as much as they initially thought. That he's still the man they fell in love with. And that those feelings are far from dead. And eventually, things would rekindle in a burst of passion and long-held feelings and it would be terrible and beautiful and cathartic and so, so painful all at once. They'd wake to a morning of regrets and, in their fear, again try to sever ties. But they'd be miserable about it and all the life would drain from their days. That burst of brightness they'd slowly brought back to each other has once again vanished and they're both left in the dark. And then, idk, the plot would pull them together one final time and they'd get to have their moments of peril and heroics and emotional confessions. And finally, finally they'd confess their feelings for each other. The feelings they've had for so, so long. And they'd both realize what absolute dipshits they've both been, that they've both felt the same way for years and were just too emotionally constipated to do anything about it. And then I'd probably undercut it with some sort of big BLAMO moment where one of them gets taken out by the bad guy (I've decided that there's a bad guy now XD) and they'd be dying in the other's arms. And you'd think that that's it! That, after so much build up and them finally getting on the same page with each other, that they won't get their happily ever after after all. But then idk, there'd be some clever deus ex machina I seeded into the story early on that comes through for them and they both live and the bad guy goes to jail and everything is GOOD! And then sappy epilogue. XD ...Ugh, see? Look what you're making me consider here with your beautiful art?! I'm plotting. Multi-chapter plotting! UGH! 😫😫😫 No, but seriously, I adore that art and felt so damn inspired when I saw it? I wish I'd had more energy to do something with that, but alas! I was just getting off work and it was very late. 😓😓😓 BUT THEN YOU SENT THIS AND MENTIONED A COLLAB AND NOW IT'S ALSO VERY LATE HERE BUT I'M JUST 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 BECAUSE DAMN SON, I WOULD LOVE TO COLLAB?! Like, I legit cannot make any promises, I've had the worst case of writer's block ever now for a couple years and counting. But even if it's just, idk, discussing ideas or chatting about these idiots or something, I'd so be down for it! Definitely feel free to hmu whenever!!! I'd love to chat!!! :D

[viornefni]

You're in my head

I had plans for the weekend

But wound up with you instead

Back here again

Got me deep in my feelings

When i should be in your bed

You and i go back to like '09 it's like forever

And you were there my lonely nights, yeah, keeping me together

So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours and you could call me your baby

But we say we're just, say we're just

Friends

Just for now

Yeah but friends don't say words that

Make friends feel like more than just

Friends

Just for now

Now I'm over pretending

So let's put the "end" in friends

Friends

Just for now

Yeah but friends don't say words that

Make friends feel like more than just

Friends are not supposed to get too close

And feel emotions that we're feeling now, now, now

We ain't slowing down, down, down

But once we cross the line, there's no denying you and I can never turn around, round, round

Know we'll never be the same

You and I go back to like '09 it's like forever

And you were there my lonely nights, yeah, keeping me together

So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours and you could call me your baby

But we say we're just, say we're just

Friends

Just for now

Yeah but friends don't say words that

Make friends feel like more than just

Friends

Just for now

Now I'm over pretending

So let's put the "end" in friends

V 'FRI(END)S' Release

🎧 Listen now: https://ingrv.es/friends​

Credits:

Director: Samuel Bradley

Production Company: Iconoclast TV

EP: Maeva Tenneroni, Jean Mougin, Guy Rolfe

Head of Production: Kate Sharpe

Producer: Martha Mcguirk

Directors Agent: Yoni Yosef

Casting: Road Casting

Casting Director: Coralie Rose

Casting Assist: Luis Torrecilla, Laura Meredith

Love Interest: Ruby Sear

Production Manager: Chanel Parkinson

Production Co-ord: Alice Hayes

Artist Liason: Jo Thompson

Cast Co-ord: Beth Rubery

Production Assistant: Callum Anderson

Production Runner: Mia Tessema

Intimacy Coordinator: Stella Moss

Movement Director: Yagamoto

Location Manager: Ryan Colaco

Location Assistant: Eser Savrin, Lois Constantinou

1st AD: Ben Gill

2nd AD: Gabriel O’Donohoe

3rd AD: Kitty Rajakulasingham, Aloha Kulieshova

Runner: Kai Rajakulasingham, Joe Heap, Danny Zanre, Anna Kovalevska, Grace Goodworth, Kwesi Mcleod, Darren Sintes, Tyson Douglas, Tiger Brewers

DOP: Jake Gabbay

A CAM Focus Puller: Rozemarijn Stokkel

A CAM 2nd AC: Ania Bahadrian

Trainee: Guillem Zamora

B CAM Operator Day 1: Juanjo Salazar

B CAM Operator Day 2: Jomar O’Meally

B CAM 1st AC - Alex Rawson

B CAM Trainee: Ollie Wesley

Camera Car: Davide Viera

Key Grip: Darren Quinn

Crane Tech: Henry Stone

Grip Trainee: James Quinn

Gaffer: Kieran Brown

Electrician: Shuan Clark, Ed Irvine, John Joe Besagni, Akeel Fleary, Cieran Nash, Amarjeet Singh, Laurent Arnaud

Master Rigger: Lee Doran

Rigger: Joe Parrott, Jamie Brindle, Ryan Ross, Alfie Berry, Scott Allen, Joe Knight

Video Playback: Liam Coles

Playback Assistant: Elvis Mcgovern

DIT: Lilly Palmer

Production Designer: Staci Lee Hindley

Art Director: Nia Samuel

Prop Master: Ezra Piers Mantell

Prop Buyer: Jessa Thorpe, Shopie-Mai Wigans

Art Assistant: Harry Beedle, Camilla Byles, Tom Hope, George Mein, Freya Wentworth, Alice Moles

Home Economist: Olivia Somary

Action Vehicle Driver (Car): Dan Chester

Action Vehicle Driver (Bus): Tom Burnage

SFX; Sean Harland

SFX Technician: Danny Matters

Stunt Coordinator: Jim Dowdall

Stylist: Justin Hamilton

Stylist Assistant: Samela Gjozi, Colleen Finnerty, Lorna Lane, Chris Atkins, Vania Monteiro, Katherine Somavia, Anna Menshykova, Mel Lyse

Hair Stylist: Simon Izard

Hair Assistant: Julie West, Aaron Dorn, Natasha Rose, Natasha Lawes

Makeup Assistant: Sophie Gia Moore, Marta Wozniak

Makeup Trainee: Rebecca Robinson

Medic: Alex Gardner, Richard Drakesford

Paramedic: Lynsey Shewring

Mini Winnego Driver: Phil Rainer

Honeywagon Driver: John Suttion

Production Sprinter: Jos Benschop

Minibus Driver: Rob Higgs, Gavin Baker, Granger Goodey, Dean Cumbers

Label Vehicle: Blerim Morina, Othman Abashikh, Peter Tarling, Steven Smith

Artist Trailer: Paul Haddock

Artist Wardrobe: David Czekalski

Honeywagon Driver: Martin Dean

Wardrobe Truck: Warren Smart

Hmu Truck: Wally Smart

Dining Bus: Andy Byrne

Location Security: Randal Berbick, Billy Bridger, Alan Laney, Kerri Mccann, Malakai Mars, Angelo Evangelou, Richard Johnson, Mathew Richards

Edit House: Assembly Rooms

Editor: Jack Williams

Edit Producer: Phoebe Armstrong-Beaver

Edit Assist: Bruna Manfredi, Tamara Ishida

Post Production: Cheat

Grade: Toby Tomkins

Post Producer: Joanna Dawson, Jen Saunders

Post Sound House: Soundtree Music

Sound Designer: Jack Patterson

Sound Producer: Neil Athale

BIGHIT MUSIC. Rights are reserved selectively in the video. Unauthorized reproduction is a violation of applicable laws. Manufactured by BIGHIT MUSIC, Seoul, Korea.

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#V_FRIENDS​ #FRI_END_S​ #뷔​ #V​

[p3ski]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 3.9K

Gavin didn't take his garbage out nearly as often as he should. His apartment was on the fourth floor, and the communal trash cans were on the opposite end of the building - down several flights of stairs. It never really occurred to him how much junk had amassed until he was literally wading through it, unable to see his floors. 

It was odd how his sudden compulsion to clean coincided perfectly with Nines' visit. After all, the android was already acquainted with his usual living standards. He had hardly concerned himself with making a good impression before. After securing the ties on two weighty trash bags, he surveyed his progress, feeling satisfied. That was until he heard a gentle rapping at his door. 

" Fuck. " Cursing under his breath, his watch informed him that it was 8 pm exactly. He should have known  Nines would be the punctual sort. Attempting to slip the trash bags inconspicuously onto his fire escape, the bottom of one started to rip. He cursed again, louder this time, as the persistent rapping continued.

Abandoning the bags in the centre of his kitchen, Gavin wiped his grubby hands on the front of his jeans. Once they were sufficiently clean, he navigated the cramped walkway through the living room, and went to answer the door: 

"Give me a second, Jesus Christ - " Swinging it open, he readied himself to continue his tirade when his words caught in his throat. 

Nines stood on the mat, so broad and tall that it was partially obscured by the doorway. Its hair had been rinsed of its usual product, giving it an uncharacteristically soft and bouncy appearance. Its CyberLife attire was absent, replaced by a grey turtleneck sweater and straight-leg black pants. The style and colour complemented its features, and Gavin couldn't help but notice just how well everything seemed to fit.

"Good evening, Detective."

He had completely zoned out, staring vacantly without sense or purpose. Upon realising this, he forced himself to look away, thoroughly unnerved. "Come on in'', he said reluctantly, trying to swallow the traitorous lump that had formed in his throat.

Passing the threshold in silence, the android studied the living space, eyes darting between the uncharacteristically clear floors and surfaces. "I had not expected you to clean on my behalf." 

"It needed it anyway", he quickly excused, "Was getting out of control." 

"The gesture is appreciated." 

"I'm gonna finish - that", Gavin gestured vaguely to the kitchen and the abandoned bags on the floor. "Make yourself home, or whatever. Tiff is in the bathtub, don't know how much luck you'll have in coaxing her out." 

Returning to the kitchen and creating a comfortable distance between them, Gavin attempted to tie off the damage he had done to the split bag. This only worsened matters, as the tear nearly doubled in size. Admitting defeat, he went to his cupboard and retrieved a second bag, slipping it over the first and manually gathering the loose remnants. Upon exiting the room, his houseguest was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, it had gone to the bathroom, searching for Tiffany. He seized the opportunity to drag his overstuffed bags out of the apartment, heading in the direction of the stairs. 

On the way down, he cursed himself for not sticking to his earlier convictions. Inviting Nines over had been a terrible idea. One that he was already coming to regret. The only person he had allowed to stay in his current apartment had been Tina - a tenuous arrangement in itself, given her vendetta with Tiffany. Hosting Nines felt…different. It couldn't be so easily categorised. They weren't friends, nor were there any romantic or sexual pretences. It was the sort of dissonance that could only be quelled by a drink. Or six. 

Making his way back up his stairs, he reasoned he should be upfront, telling Nines that he'd changed his mind. Writing the experience off as a lapse in judgement would be much easier than enduring an evening of painful awkwardness. This changed, however, when he made his way back into the apartment and saw it standing in the living room. Cradling Tiffany in its arms. 

The usually fractious cat was surprisingly calm, purring appreciatively as the android scratched behind her ear. "She seems more affectionate than usual." As if on cue, the cat's head lolled back, tucking into the crook of its elbow. "I suspect it is due to the change in her hormones."

Gavin had never seen his pet look so peaceful nor his partner so content. There was no way he could ask it to leave now, he was trapped. 

Having made a swift break for his kitchen - and, more specifically, the beers in his fridge - the bottles clinked together as he rustled to grab one. "I, uh, don't have anything you can drink," he loudly excused, pulling out a beer and using the magnetised bottle opener on his fridge to crack the lid. "Sorry." 

"No need to apologise. Although I wouldn't think it the most opportune time to be consuming alcohol," The disembodied voice was calm and distant, but with the subtle air of judgement. "When did you last eat?" 

Gavin pursed his lips as he stared haplessly into his fridge. It was devoid of contents save for the remaining bottles and a half-eaten yoghurt. "I'll order something later." 

"I really would advise against drinking until you have compensated for -" 

Slamming the fridge door shut, he returned to the living room, annoyed. "Can you stop making me feel like I'm on trial?" he snapped, pointing forcefully to his couch. "Sit down. I told you to make yourself at home." 

"I rarely sit down when I am home", Nines reasoned, combing its fingers through the expanse of Tiffany's back, "I prefer to stand." 

"Well, I'd prefer it if you didn't. It's fucking creepy." 

His companion stirred at the insult but quickly grounded itself, shrugging dismissively, "If it makes you feel more at ease, Detective, then I suppose I can sit." 

"Do it then - and stop calling me ‘Detective'. We're off duty; Gavin is fine." 

"Alright then…Gavin." The words sounded stiff as it tested the name on its tongue. As requested, it sat itself onto the couch, shifting Tiffany into its lap. The cat remained docile during this, never once stirring. 

Gavin busied himself with his television. The set was a relic - early 2010s, with limited functionality, save actually switching on. The remote had to be smacked several times before it would even respond. Still, it was one of the rare models to have a DVD player built into the screen, which paired nicely with his expansive collection. 

"It's still early. Thought we could watch something." Running a finger across the boxes, he wondered what, if anything, would be the best choice for entertaining an android houseguest. "So dipshit…what's your favourite scary movie?"

The reference flew directly over Nines' head. It looked back at him with a blank stare before shrugging its shoulders. "I am unfamiliar with the horror genre. I do not believe I have seen any films that fit the criteria."

"We'll be starting with the classics then." After some deliberation, he selected two DVDs from his collection and held them up to his partner. "Take your pick: A or B." 

Its eyes narrowed, carefully scrutinising the box art of both choices. Its LED whirred yellow briefly before it let out a gentle hum. "I find the synopsis of A more compelling. It would be my preferred option."

Realising what it had done, Gavin allowed his arms to fall limply to his sides. "I told you to pick a movie, not read the Wikipedia." 

"Should I not inform myself of the plot of a film before I watch it?"  

"It's more fun if you go in blind." He popped the disc into the side of the TV, and the old mechanism whirred to life. Remote in hand, he slumped himself into the space on the left side of the couch. 

Once the menu had booted up and the movie started, Gavin tried to get comfortable, picking up his beer and sinking further into the cushions. Nines sat in silence, intently focused on the scene playing in front of it. As ominous music played, a young girl walked alone through a boiler room. This continued for quite some time until she was loudly accosted by a deformed-looking man in a striped sweater. 

Much to Gavin's delight, Nines reeled back at this, visibly startled. Tiffany, who had been stirred from her nap, yowled and scampered away - but only made it as far as their feet before settling down again.

"Don't tell me that actually got you?" Gavin snorted before breaking out into a fit of cackles. "Big scary Robocop can't handle a jumpscare." 

"I wasn't scared. It was an involuntary reaction to what my central processor perceived as a threat." 

"Sure, I believe you," his laughter tapered off as he took a generous swig of his drink, "Want me to hold your hand in case there's another one?" 

"That won't be necessary", The android fired back. It clearly did not appreciate the mockery, jaw hardening defensively. "I know what to expect now, and I shall be more prepared next time." 

Nothing more was said for a while. Gavin finished his beer, setting the empty bottle in front of him. He was about to fetch another when his stomach let out a thunderous growl. This did not go unnoticed by his guest, whose attention snapped from the movie over to the source of the noise. 

"You are hungry," It said matter of factly. "It is getting late, you should consider acquiring food." 

Gavin tensed, resenting the fact that the machine was calling him out. He honestly couldn't afford to order another takeout despite his previous assertion. Perhaps some beans would be enough to quell the lingering pain in his gut, as well as to keep the android off his case. 

"You are partial to pizza, correct? I recall several empty boxes the last time I visited." 

"You mean the last time you tried to break in?" There had been little point deflecting the question. Nines was frustratingly astute with details, and there was no convincing it to drop something once it had committed. "I'm not feeling pizza tonight. Might just see what I've got in." 

"That is unfortunate, given the fact I have already placed an order." 

Gavin shot up, thrown by the statement, "Are you being serious? When did you -" He cut himself short, catching sight of the LED that spun on his partner's forehead. He held his breath, exhaling deeply before he continued. "You're not supposed to buy me dinner. I'm the damn host." 

"I do not need to eat, and you do - As you could not be trusted to make arrangements, I took it upon myself to do so." 

Ignoring the backhanded nature of Nines' remark, he pushed himself up from his seat, muttering under his breath. "You better not have got me trash. Any olives or pineapple, and I'll fucking end you." 

"I made an order based on your established preferences."

It had been a while since someone had thought to buy him dinner - and even longer without an ulterior motive. The conflict of emotions it left him with made his stomach twist. He grabbed two bottles from the fridge, one for enjoyment and the other for assurance, before pocketing the bottle opener. 

Gavin returned just in time to catch one of his favourite scenes. Upon witnessing the comedic extension of the killer's arms, his shoulders shook with involuntary giggles. "Good old Stretch Armstrong. Just wait until he starts running at her. It's fucking hilarious." 

Nines seemed perplexed by this statement, "I thought the intention of this film was to frighten, not to amuse?" 

"Ehh, it's a bit of both with this franchise." He opened one of his beers before sitting back on the couch. Propping his elbow onto the armrest, he leant his head on his hand as he gently sipped the foam. "The later movies get really stupid. Freddy's Dead is a straight-up comedy." 

"For a series you hold in such high regard, you seem rather critical of it." 

"Nah, that's the beauty of these old movies. Sure, the effects are goofy and outdated, but that's part of what makes them fun." 

Nines looked away, tuning in to a series of loud, pained screams emanating from the television. "...I can see how you might find it entertaining, although the logistics of this scene are rather questionable." 

"That's because it's a dream, dumbass", he chided, rolling his eyes. "Dream rules means no rules. Get used to it." 

It wasn't long until a knock could be heard on the door, disturbing what was building into a suspensefully quiet scene. Before Gavin had a chance to stand up, Nines had already done so and was answering the door with a polite greeting. A few muttered words were exchanged, after which the android returned with a large paper bag, handing it to its partner. "Here you go."

Tiffany, who had been curled up asleep on the floor, abruptly stirred at the new sounds and smells. Her head peered up at the bag, nose upturned curiously. She let out a small yowl as her owner pulled it open.

"No. Not for you. Fuck off", he said, firmly waving her away. "You've got food in the kitchen that you've barely touched." 

Retrieving the pizza box from the bag, he scrutinised the label. "Double pepperoni with stuffed crust. Very nice." Digging further into the bag, he noticed an unlabelled polystyrene container sandwiched at the bottom. Opening the container, he was hit with an abrupt wave of disappointment and confusion. "Did you order a fucking side salad?"

"Given your affinity for calorie-dense, processed foods, I felt some nutrients would not go amiss." 

"I'm not eating the salad." 

"You may find it agreeable", it argued, the corner of its lips pulling upwards. "Surely I don't have to feed you?" 

Gavin pulled a face, smacking his hand open and closed to mock the nagging tone. Setting the unwelcome salad down at the table's edge, he cleared space for the pizza. Not long after he'd pried the box open, he dug into the food like a hungry animal. Slurping at the cheese and tomato shamelessly, licking up remnants from his fingertips. Tiffany was still skulking around their feet, groaning and growling, to which the Nines picked her up and settled her back into its lap. 

"I must admit, I am enjoying this more than I anticipated", it said. "Lieutenant Anderson and RK800's taste in films leaves much to be desired." 

"Oh yeah? What sort of garbage have they got you watching?" 

"The Lieutenant is partial to action films, whereas RK800 leans more towards romantic comedies."

Gavin set down a half-eaten slice of pizza, pointing to his throat in a gagging gesture. "Figures Connor would be into chick flicks. Remind me never to come round on movie night."

"Fortunately, they are both equally partial to animals, so we find some compromise there. I must say, though, I found the last film we watched to be…distressing." 

"What was so distressing about it?" 

Nines looked on, a little forlornly, "It is about a couple who adopt a Labrador, and it follows their life as the dog grows up. Towards the end of the film -"

Oh no. The detective cursed his curiosity as a wave of unpleasant memories swiftly assaulted him. "Let me guess. Marley and Me? "

"I take it you've seen it before."

"Once, when I was six. That movie was why I wasn't allowed pets growing up. It took me a week to emotionally recover." 

"I imagine that came as a disappointment," it said with a look of solidarity. "You seem very fond of animals."

"I made up for it as an adult." Gavin went to take a sip of his drink before realising it was empty. Picking up the bottle opener, he retrieved his third beer of the evening and gently pried off the cap. "Got my first dog straight out of college. Great Dane, called 'im Scoob. Was great until I realised what a fucking ball ache he was to take care of. After that, I got Dipshit, a rescue tabby. Been a cat man ever since." 

"When did you purchase Tiffany?"

"I didn't. She was a gift from - " Gavin stopped himself, realising he didn't want to go there. At least not now. "Not important. I've had her for about four years." 

They returned their attention to the movie just in time to witness one of the more iconic scenes. Nines tilted his head to the side, evidently struggling to process what was happening. The killer pulled a man into his bed before a geyser of blood erupted from the mattress. "Is this another instance of dream rules? Because there's far too much blood to realistically be contained in a single person." 

"With this scene, I've got no fuckin' clue. I think they just wanted it to look cool."

"I find it surprising that as a child, you were so deeply traumatised by a fictional dog when this level of violence did not faze you."

Pausing for a moment, Gavin wondered how honestly he ought to respond. "That's not completely true", he confessed. "When I was little, my dad would stay up late watching movies every single night, but he never let me join 'im. I was a stubborn shit and kept sneaking peeks around the corner, so eventually, he sat me down to watch Child's Play . I was shitting my pants the entire time. Gave me all kinds of nightmares." 

"If the films frightened you so much, why did you continue to watch them?"

Gavin knocked back his bottle, swilling the liquid around his mouth before swallowing heavily. "After my parents split up, I only ever saw my dad on weekends. I wasn't about to waste any of the time we had." 

Nines said nothing but listened closely, its lips pursed tightly in thought.

"When he got sick, he couldn't do much of anything. Except watch his movies. We’d worked through his whole collection in months, and I was desperate to find something new we could watch together." He started to laugh. "One time, I convinced him to take me to see some shitty slasher movie, and I decided I'd make myself look older. In case the workers got funny about it. I wasn't very convincing, drew on stubble with my mom's eyebrow pencil."

"I'm sure your father found that amusing." 

"Sure did, it was great. You should have seen his face" The laughter he had forced throughout the story promptly stopped. His chest felt heavy from the exertion, and he struggled to breathe. "It's weird. He's been gone for 23 years, but it still feels like yesterday that I was at his funeral. Grief like that never goes away; you just learn to live with it." 

"...Gavin." He wasn't sure when Nines had moved, but the distance between them haf decreased massively. A hand slid out towards him, stopping just shy of grazing his fingers. "I know you may not appreciate me saying this, but I am genuinely sorry for your loss. I can't imagine the pain you must feel."

The detective bit his lip as his increasingly inebriated state threatened to breach his resolve. "You ever lose something, Nines? Something that tears you up until you feel like there's nothing left?" 

Nines stilled, its LED shifting to red instantaneously. It opened its mouth, emitting a crackle of static. "Yes." 

"Then you get it. To be honest, I think you get a lot more than I've given you credit for." 

It raised a quizzical eyebrow as the corner of its mouth pulled into a faint half-smile. "If you didn't detest me, I might hesitate to call that a compliment." 

"Don't get used to it. I won't be doing it again any time soon."

"A shame, really." Having turned its body away from the television, it was now staring directly at Gavin. "I would consider it a great honour to see more of this sincerity from you." 

With only a dull light to guide him, Gavin struggled to make out the other’s expression. In his efforts, however, he picked up on something that had previously escaped his notice. He had always assumed Nines' skin formed part of its 'perfect' design - being smooth and entirely free of blemishes. However, on closer inspection, he noticed a faint dusting of freckles across its cheeks and nose. It leant its unusually stern face some much-needed softness. 

 

His lips felt dry, and he subtly tried to wet them. 

Why did they have to make him so fucking attractive? 

 

The rogue thought slipped its way through, emboldened by the alcohol. As it began to sink in, Gavin felt overwhelmed by an abrupt sense of panic. Pulling back, he scurried to his feet.

"I need a piss."

Nines, confused by the abruptness of the statement, also inched back. Its mouth gaped open, but it was unable to say anything as Gavin made a hurried exit for the bathroom. Once inside, he took himself directly to the sink, running the tap until it was cold and splashing the water into his face. He tried to calm himself down as his mind worked over itself in a frenzied internal debate:

 

I mean, yeah. Objectively speaking, it’s hot. A lot of the androids are -

Exactly. It's an android. Have you lost your mind? What the hell is wrong with you? 

 

Tina was right. His current dry spell had gone on for too long, and it was time to do something about it. He resolved to call her tomorrow. Right now, however, he faced a more pressing issue.

He had locked himself in his bathroom, with the machine he had made accidental eye sex with sitting feet away behind the door. Gavin knew he had to face it eventually, and after taking a long, steeling breath, he prepared himself to do so. 

Inevitably, Nines was waiting for him as soon as he emerged. It followed his movements closely, face marred with a look of concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, all good", Gavin said smoothly, doing his best to avoid eye contact. "I'm really tired, think I'm gonna head to bed." 

"Did you not want to finish the film? I imagine we are close to the end." 

"Nah, it's fine. The ending kind of sucks, and I've seen it a million times." 

The android was clearly unsatisfied with this response but relented in arguing back. Its concerned expression morphed into something more detached and neutral. "I understand. That was the purpose of my visit, after all. To ensure you got a good night's sleep." 

"Right." There was little else Gavin could think to say as he made his way to his bedroom. Before disappearing into the room completely, he spared his partner a quick backward glance. "See you tomorrow." 

Nines watched after him, a little too intently, before letting out a gentle sigh. "Goodnight, Gavin. Sleep well." 

[maxpaulll]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Game

I was tagged by @agentplutonium who knows I absolutely despise tag games so I'm doing this out of spite.

I will not tag anyone because I don't know who to tag and don't want to but you can feel free to use this as an excuse to do it if you want.

1 - How many works do you have on AO3?

3 because I don't write often and I orphaned all my old fandom ones

2 - What's your total AO3 word count?

hhhhhh uhm... 5,403 because again, I don't write often. When I do it's just a one shot cause that's all I can commit to.

3 - What fandoms do you write for?

Redacted Audio, and you can't prove any other fandom /lh

4 - What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'm gonna rank these but I don't have enough so they all get featured, Get rekt losers.

#1 is Adventure of the Mates' Night Out. This is just a silly little one shot abt the Shaw Pack mates & Baabe being cool as heck B]

#2 is Family Gets Nicknames which is a short lil angst fic about Quinn taking Angel & Tank/Darlin' not being able to do anything about it. Technically it's unfinished but I wouldn't expect an update

#3 is The Stars Are Gone Now. It is my FAVOURITE AND YOU ALL ARE COWARDS FOR NOT LIKING IT/J. It's about Imp!Vega's death and Pet's grief. I love it more than life itself but it's pretty heavy and a lesser beloved pairing so I understand why it's not super popular.

5 - Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Sometimes, if I'm feeling silly

6 - What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Stars are gone now. Hands down. Pets stuck in Vega's room with no idea what's going on during the rebellion. The only solace they have is the lights on the ceiling which relieve them that Vega is still alive... until he's not. (family get's nickames is kinda sad too but it was written to be more panicky. I write a lot of angst because it helps me deal with my 🌟feelings🌟)

7 -What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Mates' Night Out!!! It ends with everybody being fine and Baabe being super sexy n cool but I should give a TW for mild violence, sexual harassment and swearing <3

8 - Do you get hate on fics?

Not as far as I know?

9 - Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Once when I was like 15 and then never again. I'm no good at it.

10 - Do you write crossovers?

Nope <3

11 - Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No?? I wouldn't know

12 - Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope <3

13 - Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes. In high school. On a twitter thread. With Pluto.

14 - What's your all time favorite ship?

I will die for Imp!Vega & Pet, I would give my life for Imp!Freelancer & Vindemiator, and I will kiss Gavin & Freelancer on their sweet little heads.

15 - What's a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I started writing this AU about Detective!Milo & Thief!Sweetheart that never made it past planning in gdocs but I think it would be cool to finish but I don't think I'll ever get there. There's also this one Playlist plotline I made because I wanted people to be able to see what I was thinking about when I listened to the songs. Making that into a finished fic would be cool but I don't have it in me. If you wanna read it, the link is here.

16 - What are your writing strengths?

I think my descriptions are my strong suit? I feel like my dialogue can be lacking but I feel good about my visualizations of scenes n stuff.

17 - What are your writing weaknesses?

Definitely making anything more than a one shot. I just don't have that level of commitment for something. When I write stuff it's because I'm in the moment and feeling what I'm writing. If I have to sit down and come back to it I lose my mojo.

18 - Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'd feel way more comfortable doing if I or someone I knew understood/spoke the language. I don't trust google translate for that.

19 - First fandom you wrote for?

Listen. Wattpad was a place... where I wrote Good Omens things. BUT WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THE DARK TIMES.

20 - Favorite fic you've written?

THE. STARS. ARE. GONE. NOW. IT'S MY BABY, MY BELOVED, MY POOKIE DOODLE. AND I WORKED HARD ON IT. YOU SHOULD READ IT (If you wanna) AND THEN CRY ABT IT WITH ME. Or not, I don't really care /lh

okay thats all

[sawtastic-sideblog]

This isn't the Gavin idea I posted about, but this is a week of sleep deprivation of writing when I could between work and studying/taking finals.

Tw: talk of death, some violence

Hope y'all enjoy.

"Oi, Y/N, you coming to the footie match?" Gavin asks. You look up from your magazine, staring blankly at him before looking down at your team shirt and back up again. You'd never really liked him, but you got along because of your best friend, Ray.

"Yeah," you answer before turning your eyes back down to the article, but your attention stays on Gavin. You can feel his eyes on you as he sits at the table across from you. You can smell his sandwich.

"Peanut butter and jelly? Really? What are you five?" You ask without looking up.

"My mum made me one before every game. Keeping the tradition alive."

"Ah, so you're superstitious," you say, eyes once again, flitting up towards Gavin. He shakes his head as he chews.

"Nothing like that. I'm just keeping my mum's memory alive. Helps me feel closer to her. Ya know, since she's been gone a full year tomorrow."

Your breath catches in your throat. You knew that. Of course you knew that. You went to the funeral with Ray. You'd just forgotten the dates. You let your eyes fall away from Gavin's as you stumble your apology.

"I'm sorry, Gavin. I didn't realize the date."

"It's okay, Y/N. You don't care about me enough to know these things."

"What things?" Ray asks as he walks into the room wearing his jersey.

"The anniversary of my mum dying."

"They remember it. They just don't know what day it is anymore. The haven't been seeping."

"Ray," you hiss.

"Ah, so, the insomnia has come back, has it? I can help with that," Gavin asks with a glint in his eye.

"Shut up," you say, holding the magazine infront of your face.

"Boys, it's time to go. Big game time," John, Ray's step-dad says.

"Come on, Y/N, time to watch me win us a championship," Gavin says. You roll your eyes and grab your things, following the boys and John to the car.

"Wanna wear my spare jersey? Got my numbers on it," Gavin asks as he opens the car door.

"Get bent," you say as you shove past him into the backseat and crawl all the way to the other side. You hear Gavin chuckle as he gets in the car.

"Go on, Ray!" You yell. You watch as Ray passes the ball over to Gavin. Two of the opposing team's players close in on Gavin, who is running towards the goal. One player tries to get the ball, Gavin dodges. The other player tries for it, Gavin dodges again. He kicks the ball towards the goal. You hold your breath, along with everyone else in the stands.

The ball soars ever so slowly, or so it feels. Your eyes follow the ball as it barely makes it past the goalies hands and into the net. The crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Gavin just won the game!

"Fuck, yes, Gav!" You scream. He looks towards the crowd almost like he's looking for the source of the scream.

Suddenly, he's on the ground. One of the players from the other team is kicking him. You see Ray and some of their other teammates running towards the scene. Ray shoves the player and grabs Gavin as a brawl breaks out between the teams.

You're digging through your bag as Ray brings Gavin over. You hand him the first aid kit from your bag.

"You alright?" You ask.

"I'm great. I think my bloody nose is broken."

"Good game," you say. Gavin's eyes light up and he smiles wide.

"Told you I'd win."

"So you did," you say while looking out at the, now, broken up brawl. Graeme's nose is sideways and John is yelling at him.

"To Gav and his game winning goal!" Graeme shouts into the bar. His voice slightly muted like he's congested. Pretty sure it's just the broken nose.

The team cheers and clinks glasses. You clink your glass against Ray's and go to take a sip.

"Ahem," a voice calls. You pause glass to your lips and turn towards the voice. Gavin holds his glass out to you expectantly. His nose is swollen, but not broken, and bruised and he has a bruise around his left eye.

You roll your eyes, but clink his glass and finally take your sip. Ray grabs your hand and pulls you out to the floor where the two of you dance.

You catch glimpses of Gavin staring at you all night. You can feel his eyes on you when you're turned away. You shrug off the uncomfortable feeling and try to have a good time with your friend.

"Hey, Y/N/N, having a good time?" Ray asks as he sits beside you. You had gone off to a secluded booth to get out of the hustle of the partiers.

"Yeah, just needed to catch my breath."

"Good. Gav is taking me home and asked if you needed a ride."

"Hasn't he been drinking?"

"One beer six hours ago."

"That's not like Gavin," you say surprised.

"He said it was his turn to be the designated driver or some shit."

"Well, how sweet of him. Thinking of others. Decent human being shit," you say sarcastically as you grab your bag. Ray keeps his hand on your upper back as the two of you walk through the crowd.

"Ready to go?" Gavin asks as you approach. You nod and keep walking. You could swear you feel his fingers drag against your wrist. You shrug it off as your drunken imagination and continue out the door.

"See ya, Ray," Gavin says before he slowly rolls forward. He watches the mirror as Ray goes inside. You stare at him as he drives off. You watch the streetlights dance across his features as you pass underneath them. His scruff enticing you with each light you passed.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is reaching out towards Gavin's face. Your fingertips dance across his jaw. He turns his head toward you and your fingers land on his lips.

"What are you doing?"

"You looked fluffy," you say with a slur to your words. You pull your hand back and Gavin shakes his head and turns back towards the road. You close your eyes and relax into the seat.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah, but it's more prickly than fuzzy."

"Your drunk," Gavin says laughing. He pulls into your apartment building's parking lot. "Here's your stop. Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"We're at your flat."

"Okay."

"Go on, then. Get out."

"I am," you say, not moving. You hear Gavin sigh and open his door. Moments later your door is opened and someone is leaning over you. They smell really good. You can tell it's Gavin. You seatbelt is unbuckled and your arm is tugged.

"You smell good."

"Thank you, now, come on, Y/N, you gotta help me out."

"I am."

"No, you're sitting in my car, doing nothing to help me."

"Ugh. Just leave me here."

"Wish I could, darling, but I gotta get home."

"Why? You don't have anyone to go home to."

"Ouch."

"Sorry."

"I'm sure you are. Now, stand up."

You lazily move your legs out of the car and stand up. You're very wobbly as you start taking steps. You hear your door close and you feel a hand on your upper arm.

"That's it. Easy does it," Gavin says, leading you to the metal staircase that leads up to your door. The night air gives you a chill and you try to curl into yourself. "You'll be inside in a minute. You can warm up then. Just walk."

Even with you stumbling up stairs, hitting your legs on everything, the two of you manage to your door. You stumble into the wall and stay there, holding yourself up. You pat your pockets.

"My keys."

"I have them. I have your whole bag. You left it in the car," Gavin says as he rummage for your keys. You start to slide down the wall. Gavin catches you, keys in hand. "Nope."

"I'm tired."

"I know. I'm trying to get you inside."

Gavin unlocks the door and opens it. He guides you inside and you stumble over to the couch, where you slump into the cushions. You fall into the throw pillow and hug it close to your body. You hear Gavin set your bag down and walk around the living room.

Suddenly, you're engulfed in a soft, fluffy material. You realize it's a blanket and pull it closer to your body.

"Goodnight, Gav," you say drunkenly. You hear a distant 'Goodnight Y/N' as you fall away, into a deep sleep.

The next morning you wake up with a terrible headache. You regret drinking so much last night. Your eyes scan the blurry room. You see a glass of water and two bottles on the table. You ready yourself and sit up. Your head is aching and your entire body hurts. Your legs sting as you move them to the floor. You see a note and pick it up.

"You kept falling up the stairs. That explains your legs. You tried to get up to go to the bathroom before I left and you fell into the coffee table. You got your arm and head on that. I tried to make sure you were okay, but your stubborn ass you wouldn't let me. I put the bandage on after you fell asleep. Take the pain killers, drink the water, and the electrolyte drink I left for you. -Gav"

You pick up the bottle of pain killers and down a couple with some water. You get up to start your day, which isn't much since it's your day off. You pick up your blanket to fold it and a jacket falls out of it. You recognize it as Gavin's.

'Why was I covered up with Gavin's jacket?' You wonder to yourself. You remember thinking he smelt good last night, so you hold it to your nose and inhale deeply. He does smell good. You shake it from your head and get to work on cleaning.

Ray calls you a bit later asking if you to come over for movie night. Not wanting to deal with his mother, you invite him to your place. He agrees and tells you he'd pick up pizza.

You're finishing up your cleaning when you hear a knock at the door. You open to find Gavin there, hands in his pockets, a bag hangingoff on wrist. His scruff from last night a little thicker, his eyes shining in the afternoon sun, they look brighter with the darkness of the bruises surrounding them, his hair a little messy, but it suits him. You feel a pull at your heart and get confused.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, Gavin, what are you doing here?"

"Ray said you two were having movie night. Thought I'd come crash it. Unless you guys had other plans," Gavin says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, it's just movie night, you dunce," you says, opening the door wider for him to walk in. He walks by you and you catch that scent again. "Did you get new cologne?"

"Nah, it's the same one I've been using for years. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just now noticing it."

"Ah, you like it?"

"It's alright. A little strong."

"Really? You told me I smelled good last night."

"I seem to also remember calling you a dick at the bar."

"This was after the bar. I was bringing you home. You said I smell good and that I look fluffy, but feel prickly."

"What?"

"You said my face looked fluffy, but got disappointed when it was prickly becauenif my beard."

"Oh, sorry," you say. Gavin just shrugs and puts the bag he was carrying on the dining table. You walk into the kitchen to finish up cleaning and Gavin follows you.

"How's the nose?"

"Alright, my entire face is stinging like a bitch. What about your head?"

"Surprisingly my legs hurt more than my head."

"I can imagine. You hit your shins on every surface last night."

"Oh, you left your jacket here. It's on the hook by the door."

"Thanks. Left it with you, incase you wanted to smell me again."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for last night. I appreciate it."

"Not a problem."

"And, uh, about today."

"What about it?"

"What was your mum's favorite movie? We can watch it in honor of her."

"The Sound of Music. Thanks, Y/N, that's really nice of you considering you hate me."

"I don't hate you, but I do tolerate you for Ray. I also liked your mom. She was always really nice to me."

"She liked you, a lot. Always said you were the child she never had. That you were a good influence on me. That you could get me away from Pat."

"Yeah, I agree with her. He's bad news. You should get away."

"Why? You don't care about me."

"Just because I'm not fond of you doesn't mean I don't care about you. I want what's best for everybody and that includes you."

Gavin's hands find your hips and he spins you around. He pin you against the counter. His eyes are full of confusion.

"If you don't like me, why do you want what's best for me? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of not liking me."

"Because, even though you irritate the absolute fuck out of me, I want to see you happy, Gavin."

"Why don't you call me Gav like everybody else?"

"I do, don't I?"

"In six years, I've only heard it twice. Once was last night when I tucked you in and you said goodnight to me. The other was yesterday when I scored the game winning goal. I believe your exact words were 'fuck, yes, Gav,' but that was from across the field, so I'm not sure I heard you properly. I think I need to make you say it again," he says, smirking as your cheeks heat up. He leans closer. "I could have you screaming it."

You're saved by a knock on the door. Gavin let's you go and walks to the door. You quickly run to the bathroom.

"Hey, Ray, we're watching mum's favorite tonight."

Three months later and you're hanging out with Ray. You're just grocery shopping, but you're both having a good time.

"Hello, friends, how we going?" Gavin asks as he blocks the two of you in with his cart.

"Great until now," you answer.

"Ouch, my heart. Y/N, you cruel beast," Gavin says, holding his heart dramatically. "Anyway, game night? I've been itching to play Monopoly."

"Sure," Ray says as he grabs a bag of chips from the shelf. You sigh, but nod your head. You've been trying to avoid Gavin since movie night, but it's proving to be more difficult than you thought. He left his jacket again, so he was back the next day to pick it up. He always seems to find a reason to come into the shop you work in or to hangout with you and Ray.

"My place?" You offer.

"Perfect. See you both tonight," Gavin says before pushing his cart away.

"Cheating bastard," Ray says as he hands Gavin the fake money.

"I'm not cheating, I'm just a smart business man."

"I agree with Ray," you say as you roll the dice. You land on the 'Go To Jail' space for what feel likes the billionth time tonight. You've been in jail so much what they should just give you the key. "Fuck me."

"Maybe later," Gavin jokes. You feel that little pang in your chest again. Your chest always feels funny when he says things like that to you or even when he's just doing mundane things. You heart did flips when he did the dishes at Ray's house once and when he was working on his car and he went to wipe the oil off his hands. Hell, you're pretty sure your heart skipped a beat when he showed up with pizza tonight. His messy hair, scruff, and mischievous eyes made your heart do cartwheels.

It was in that moment that you realized that you like Gavin. You like him so damn much.

"That's it, I'm done," Ray says, standing from the chair and walking to the couch. You laugh as you start cleaning up the game.

"You're done too?"

"Yeah, no use in even trying. You're the better business man," you say as you organize the money. Gavin nods and helps you clean.

The three of you decide to watch a movie and you offer for the two of them to stay the night. Both agree and you grab blankets for them.to use. Ray takes the couch and Gavin steals a throw pillow and makes a place on the floor to sleep. You bid them goodnight and go to your room. You can't sleep because your mind is running wild with the discovery of your feelings for Gavin, so you decide to read.

"Can't sleep?"

You jump and look up to see Gavin poking his head in your door.

"Sorry, saw the light on and decided to check in."

"It's okay and, yeah, I can't sleep."

"Something wrong?"

"Too many thoughts."

"Wanna talk about it?" Gavin asks as he walks fully into the room, closing the door behind him. He doesn't wait for your answer and joins you on the bed.

"No thanks. I'm good."

"Okay. I'm just gonna hang out here then. Floor is hurting my back, Ray is snoring, and I can't sleep either. Got another book?"

You hand him one from your nightstand and both of you sit in silence for a while. Gavin shifts and his shoulder is against yours. You feel the heat he gives off and suddenly reading is very difficult for you. You notice his scent and just how close he is to you. You take a deep breath through your nose.

"Smelling me? Do I smell good again?"

"No," you lie. You have to think quick. "I was trying not to to laugh. Funny part of the book."

"Oh, really? What happened?"

"You'll have to read it and find out."

"Does this mean that I can come back and sit in bed to read with you?" Gavin asks jokingly. You realize that he's flirting.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Yeah and I have been for years now."

"You have?"

"Yeah, you never noticed because you hate me."

"I don't hate you. I tolerated you because of Ray."

"Tolerated? As in past tense?"

"What?"

"You said tolerated. As in you no longer tolerate me. Why do you not tolerate me anymore, Y/N?" Gavin asks. He moves in closer to you. You stare up into his eyes and don't say anything. "Do you like me now, Y/N?"

"Quit it. Stop flirting with me."

"Why?"

"Because it makes it harder."

"Makes what harder? Other than me," he jokes.

"To accept that I like you. That I've always liked you, but I only, unconsciously, let myself start feeling it the night you brought me home. Then the next day, when I woke up with your jacket and realized I liked havin your scent around me. Then, you show up, looking handsome as ever, with my favorite soda. The way you mouthed the words to the movie, the jokes, just everything about you for the past three months have bee eating me alive. I couldn't figure out why until tonight."

"What made you realize you liked me?"

"When you said you'd fuck me later," you say hiding your face with your blanket. Gavin throws his head back and laughs. It's a beautiful sound, but it's at your expense, so you hide your face more. You feel Gavin's arms around you.

"On your terms, I will. Also, I dropped Pat the day we talked. I want to put your mind at ease."

"Good because I just realized I liked you and I don't want to lose you now."

"You're not losing me."

"Good," you say and lean into his chest. One of his hands stroke your hair, the other holds your hand.

"Can I fuck you, though?"

"Not with my best friend is here. Or anytime soon. We're taking things slow. Especially since you haven't asked me out," you explain. Gavin laughs.

"Y/N, will you be mine, only mine, exclusively mine, forever?"

"Yes."

"Good, now can I kiss you?" You nod. He tilts your head up and presses his lips into yours. It's soft and sweet, full of passion and pent up feelings. When you pull away for air, Gavin puts his forehead against yours. "I have been waiting six years to do that."

[iwonderwh0]

how frequently do you read fan fiction? and do you have any dbh fanfics to recommend? please do share!!

Rarely. I'm sure there are amazing fics I've been recommended that I still haven't read, because yeah, I rarely have a mood to read them and I'm a slow reader. Also I have this annoying tendency to abandon fics after a few paragraphs or chapters for quite random reasons.

Anyways, here's a list of things I've read and I think I can recommend:

A Ghost by Midnight -THE BEST ONE I'VE EVER READ. Just painfully amazing, it honestly blew my mind that a fiction can make me feel SO MUCH, because no other media EVER hurt me like this fanfiction did, just holy fuck, there is one sentence that just breaks my heart every time I remember it even now. This is a piece of art, a masterpiece. Every damn sentence is perfect and feels like a punch in the gut. Read it if you want text to physically hurt you. There is technically a second part, but I'm not going to recommend it because it was abandoned on a cliff-hanger and honestly this (technically first) part is perfect the way it is on its own.

Cast & Sugar - one shot, really cute one (the only non-hurt thing in this whole list, lol), centres around PM700. Really poetically well written. If you'll like this one, I also recommend another PM700 centric fic by the same author You can't kill me

ALSO from this author there's an amazing comics ZENO that technically isn't a fic, but I feel like it belongs here ZENO - it's not finished, but hopefully some day it will

You are enough - fun fact, it was the first fanfiction I've read in my life and in dbh fandom specifically. It's reed900, and even though it's not my cup of tea NOW, back then I really liked it, so if you like hurt/comfort and reed900, you'll probably like this one.

Detroit Become Nothing - another 'technically not a fic', but I must mention it. It's a text-based game that has different outcomes depending on how you play it. It has a fic attached to it, yes, but go play it first. Once again, it's quite heavy stuff. Honestly I am scared to play it again, so I still don't know all the outcomes. But give it some love, this is amazing.

Next two ones are Hankcon with lots of hurt

Eternal Winter - this one is written in a really addictive way that gave me shit ton on emotions, but it is REALLY Connor-centric. Author did what we all dream about and just tortured the shit out of him both mentally and physically. I imagine, it must've been really fun to write. Beware of tags, but this one isn't graphic, unlike the next one

Buried Beneath the Snow - MIND THE FUCKING TAGS, this one is really dead dove kind of situation. I'm honestly not sure if I should recommend it, because this thing is really graphic, cruel and well, it is fucked up. I probably wouldn't read it if I knew how graphic shit gets (I'm pretty sure I didn't check the tags AT ALL when I started reading it), but the writing in is absolutely fantastic, so when I realised how vile this thing is, it was too late to stop. Also it'll make you hate Gavin so fucking much you won't be able to see him the fanon way again. So, beware. This thing is brutal, so really think twice before reading it if you end up deciding to try.