#i mean like 'you people need to stop shoving it down our throats' homophobic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Vaincre

part v

cw: homophobic encounter.

November

November shadows,

shade November change

November spells sweet memory,

the season blue remains

“Lo!” Finn called. “Guess who just got traded to the Rags.”

Cool dread spun its way into Logan’s chest at full force. He felt the point of one of his hips knock against the counter. “Quoi?”

“Marshy and Morgs!” Finn said, and the appeared around the corner into the kitchen, red hair a mess. “Like, together. Like us.”

“These were Harvard teammates, yeah?” Leo asked, spooning sugar into Logan’s coffee.

“Like us?” Logan said. “They’re dating?”

“Oh, no,” Finn laughed. “I just meant together, like, at the same time. Around the same time, I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” Logan nodded, which prompted Finn to imitate the way he said wow, drawing out the W’s. Logan smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We could visit them over the next free weekend maybe.”

“Damn, that’d be a blast to the past.”

“What are they like?” Leo asked, leaning into Logan’s side.

“You’d love Will. Will Morgan, Morgs,” Logan said. “Really level-headed, probably the nicest person I know. Marshy…”

“Percy Marshall is one crazy motherfucker,” Finn said, and poured his own cup of coffee, black.

Logan leaned into mock-whisper to Leo. “And Finn gets insane when they’re together.”

Finn shot him a look, but continued. “Best way to say it. He’ll party until the sun, he’s crazy superstitious—worse than Cap and Loops combined—and he’s also,” Finn slid onto a stool. “One of the hardest working guys you’ll ever met. Probably the hardest working.” Finn’s smile was one Logan’s favorite one, made even more so by the fact that he got to see it directed at Leo. “Until I met you, that is, Nut.”

Leo let out a pleased laugh and let Logan brush a hand through his hair. “Well, they’re in our division now. I’ll get to meet them.”

“Oh, man, we’re in for a fucking treat when we play New York next,” Finn grinned. “Gonna hit the town hard.”

Leo snorted. “You guys might.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I know everyone we need to know.”

“And I can finally tell you,” Logan began. “That the first time you dragged me around New York knowing ever person you saw, I loved you.”

Finn blushed a little and let Leo pull him to settle in the V of his legs from where he was leaning back against the counter. “Well, it’ll be nice to see them.”

Logan nodded, but part of his chest pulled. He cleared his throat. “Ouais. Also…”

When he paused, Leo tapped their socked toes together encouragingly.

Logan shrugged and looked down into his coffee. He thought of Finn’s quick breaths when they took the Cup back to Harvard. He thought of kissing him in their old room. He thought of everything before. Percy and Will were a part of all of that. Not directly, maybe, but Logan knew what seeing them again would do.

“Memories,” Finn said, and Leo nudged him.

“Don’t say it for him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Memories,” Logan agreed. “Good and bad.”

Remus missed the net three times in fifteen minutes, and only barely managed to keep himself from breaking his stick against the boards. He would be embarrassed afterwards if he had, but could it really be so much worse than the way that he felt now?

He accepted Thomas’ fist bump as he passed him going into the locker room and sat down heavily in his stall. The game had been close, but the Devils had won out in the end. He glanced at some of the assistant coaches, who were murmuring together. There was no guarantee it was about him, but it still felt as thought it was. Sirius was talking with Evgeni, Evgeni’s loud laugh warming up the room. Remus stripped out of his sweaty uniform quickly and was headed for the showers with a towel around his waist when someone slapped him on the back.

“It’s decided,” Logan’s accent came from beside him. He wasn’t bothering with his towel, which was slung over his bare shoulder. The fleur-de-lis tattoo on his hip—and everything else—was on full display. “Me and Talker are taking you out tonight.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean exactly?”

Logan just smiled. “No boyfriends. No hockey. We have a day off tomorrow, so no pressure. Just some drinks.”

“And some pool, maybe,” Thomas said, coming up to Remus’ other side. “What do you say, Loops? Fun, eh?”

“Okay, one of you is butt-naked right now and the other is in a three-piece suit. I’m going to say yes and shower, all right?”

Thomas gave a whoop, and Remus couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he dropped his towel in the change room and turned on the hot water. He felt like a sling-shot lately, being catapulted one way, and then in the opposite direction. He guessed he should feel thankful that his friends could pick him up like that, and he did, but another part of him caved in beneath the sheer affection.

I’m letting you down.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and looked over his shoulder when he felt a gentle, quick kiss against the back of his neck.

“Bonsoir,” Sirius said with a soft smile, and went to the shower head beside him.

“Hi,” Remus smiled back. “Beautiful goal tonight.”

He watched the water lace over Sirius’ tan skin, darkening his hair further as he pushed it back, away from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Olli,” Finn called across the showers, making Olli look over at him. “You’re fucking beautiful, man.”

Olli just squeezed shampoo into his palm. “I know that, Harzy.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed through the showers, joined by others, and Remus let it warm around him like the steam.

“Apparently Tremz and Talkie are taking me out tonight,” he said to Sirius as they walked back into the locker room.

“Tremz,” Sirius called over to him. “Ouch.”

“Pas de capitaines,” Logan waved him off and went back to looking at whatever Leo was showing him on his phone. Sirius laughed and looked back to Remus.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Wake me up when you come in if I’m asleep.”

“And go to bed without a kiss?” Remus glanced down at the towel slung low across Sirius’ hips, then back up to his bright silver eyes. “I’d never.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, but Remus felt the unspoken settling between them. Sirius had stopped bringing up wanting to help with Remus’ shortcomings on the ice. Remus knew he had brought that upon himself with refusals after refusals to talk about it, but now it felt more like a thing. An object. An ugly vase in the corner of the room.

Maybe he really did need to go out tonight.

Thomas settled in his stall beside Remus. “We’re gonna go to Red’s, yeah?”

Remus nodded as he pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. He held up his dark jeans. “I can wear this, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m not wearing this thing,” Thomas picked at the lapel of his suit. “Noelle already screen shotted the snapchat I sent her. Why keep it on now?”

Remus just laughed. “All right, Talkie. Lead the way.”

Red’s bar was shoved up against the side of a larger block of buildings in Gryffindor. Remus glanced up, one or two stars were poking through the increasingly cooling loud cover. Inside it was warm, though. Foggy in the way some rooms get when there are lots of happy people in them. Logan had chosen a long-sleeved, dark gray cotton shirt, so thin that Remus could see each ridge of his defined muscles and his necklace, too.

“What the fuck happens when that thing gets wet?” Remus snorted, plucking at it as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I’ll pretend we had a fight,” Thomas said. “Throw a drink on you, find out.”

Logan just eyed them suspiciously as they leaned against the bar. “You guys are strange.”

Thomas just flagged the bartender, stretching the white material of his thin knit sweater. He ordered a whiskey, Logan a rum and coke, and Remus opted for a lighter gin and tonic. They still had a game on barely 72 hours. Not that anyone was that much of a light weight, but he didn’t want any assumptions being made, any photographs taken that could put him in a worse light than he already was.

“I know what this is, you know,” he said after Logan and Thomas’ intense COD debate had gone on too long. They both looked over at him, the picture of innocence. Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Media’s a bitch,” Thomas said. “That’s all this is. Hockey’s hard. You can’t help that you live with Cap, who makes it all look like a piece of cake.”

Logan laughed. “I think Cap would disagree. He stinks after games, mon dieu.”

Remus and Thomas shared a look. “And you don’t?”

“Finn likes it,” Logan smirked. “Gets him going.”

“Are you sure its the stench and not the muscles?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Logan waved him off. “I’m not talking about this with you two. We’re here for Loops.”

Remus groaned. “Guys…it’s not…I mean every player goes through this, right?”

They both nodded.

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But it doesn’t help that some people—“

“Assholes,” Logan amended.

“Right. It doesn’t help that some assholes don’t think you deserve to be here.”

Remus tilted his glass towards him. “Yeah.”

“We just think…” Logan began uncertainly, tongue poking out to wet his full bottom lip. “Look, I love Cap. He’s like a brother. But he’s intense. For him…sometimes hockey solves hockey.”

Remus wavered. “Yes and no.”

“We just thought you might want some other ears,” Thomas offered a smile. “I mean we can’t offer a feel good night of lovin’ to make you feel better…”

Remus snorted. “Right. You know, Talkie, that’s exactly what Sirius calls it.”

Thomas cracked up, too. “But we can offer drinks. And, you know…”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Ears?”

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “Look at Tremzy over here, finishing my sentences.”

Remus let his smile die down a little. “I…thanks, guys. I mean, I love talking to Sirius, but I also…he is the Captain. He’s a representation of all of us. I feel a little…” Remus took a slow breath, not sure if he was even ready for the words to come out of his mouth. “I feel a little like I’m letting him, and you all, down sometimes.”

“Aw, Loops,” Thomas said, voice softened.

“I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s just…it creeps in sometimes.”

Remus watched Logan swallow. “I get it. If there’s anything I can understand it’s guilt.”

“Tremz,” Remus said comfortingly. “I guess I should listen to my own advice here, but it’s not your fault. I can be ears, too, you know.”

“Is this…” Thomas said quietly. “Carrot?”

They both stared at him. “Carrot?”

“Code names,” Thomas whispered, even though the tables were noisy and the bar was somewhat empty.

Logan laughed a little, and nodded.

Remus waited. Logan gathered thoughts slowly, carefully. Interrupting, he’d learned while talking with Leo, tended to scatter them. He was also happy that the spotlight wasn’t entirely on him anymore.

“I found him at Harvard,” Logan began, swallowing dryly despite the drink in his hand. “And I was a mess. And then we spent that year apart, and I was a mess. And then I found him again, in Gryffindor, and I was a mess. I fell in love with Leo and I was a mess.” He looked at them, eyes pleading, then back down at his drink. “I am so, so happy now. It worked out. I can’t believe my luck. I wake up so fucking happy every morning. Every little look at them, my life with them, is incredible.”

Remus and Thomas waited some more. Thomas sent Remus a half smile across him, then leaned his cheek on his fist.

Finally, Logan finished. “But I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a mess without them.” He closed his eyes, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it really does. Tremz, I get it.” He tilted his glass, making his ice cubes stir the liquid inside. “You’re someone when you’re with who you love. But you gotta be your own someone, too.”

“Ouais,” Logan was already nodded. “Right, like…Re, you’re you, no matter what. Leo, he’s the same way. Finn, too.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not so sure right now. But I think what you’re saying makes sense. Tremz, you’re allowed to want that for yourself. It’s not a slight to the boys. At all.”

Logan laughed, still laced with frustration. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.”

Remus smiled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve got a pretty level-headed duo in your corner. I mean, Finn’s Finn.”

Thomas snorted. “Might take him a second.”

Logan smiled and it was fond. “Yeah.”

“But Leo…” Remus snapped his fingers. “He’ll get it. They both will.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bar. “I’m not asking for space. I don’t want space. I don’t want anything to change I just want to stop feeling like I’ll crash and burn by myself.”

“Me too,” Remus admitted. “Maybe in a different way, but…me too.”

“I don’t know if I feel like I’m gonna crash,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But hey, life’s tough sometimes.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Friends.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughing, the conversation turning to organizing a pick-up game in the park that weekend—if it didn’t snow.

“Gotta use the big WC, gents,” Thomas said after a while, picking up his crutches. “Then pool?”

“Who the hell calls it that?” Remus snorted.

“Me,” Thomas called over his shoulder, politely excusing his way through the crowd with his charming smile and causing a few longing looks to follow him at his back.

Logan drained the last of his rum and coke. “You don’t feel like Cap’s putting pressure on you, do you?”

Remus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment. “God, no. No, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s mostly me, I think. He even wants to talk about it. Sometimes I just…can’t.”

Logan nodded. “Good. No, good, I just thought I’d ask. When I first met him, he’d get like that with me sometimes. Wanting to run extra drills or talk through tape. I snapped at him for it a bit. This was before he was really who he is now.”

“Parents were lingering in him,” Remus nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

A man came to lean against the bar beside Remus, then, and Remus shot him a smile that he hoped looked friendly rather than uneasy. The guy was really in his space. He shared a look with Logan, who’s shoulders were rounded a little in alert, green eyes narrowed in on the guy.

“You’re Lupin, eh?” the man said.

Remus sighed softly, looking down at his now watery drink. He should’ve known.

“Yep,” he replied, and looked at the man. He had two friends, hovering a little ways back.

“What’s going on this season, huh?”

The worst part was that the man was smiling, as if he thought this conversation was going to go well.

“I mean, I know you’re with the Captain and all,” the man said. “But, I mean…come on. Some of us care about how the team does.”

“Excuse me?” Remus replied.

The man tilted his head, looking mockingly regretful. “It’s not just about you.”

“Okay,” Remus said, keeping his voice flat.

“What he do to get you there?” the man asked, leaning in like they were friends. “I mean, like…some type of reward, or does he already give you those at home?”

Remus flushed. “I think we’re done talking.”

At least his friends had the decency to look a little nervous.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“Fuck off, man,” Logan said in a low tone.

“What,” he sneered. “You got yourself a boyfriend, too, Tremblay?”

Logan was on his feet then, stools screeching back, taller than the man, stronger. Remus’ arm shot out against his chest, keeping him and his balled fists back. The man’s friend stepped forward, too.

“Whoa, Mike,” one of the friends said, hesitating. “That’s not why we…that’s not what this is.”

“Oh,” Thomas scoffed, announcing himself as he made his way back to them. He somehow made his crutches and boot look threatening. “Wrong type of harassment for you, my guy?”

The fans’ eyes went large. “Talker…”

Thomas just stared at them, and Remus watched him go from Thomas Walker with his friends to Thomas Walker on the ice, defensemen. Enforcer. “Only my friends call me that. Sit down at your own table or get out.”

Thomas shouldered through them, one crutch landing briefly on Mike’s shoe, who only just bit back a groan. Thomas was all bright, sharp grin as he sat down, leaning his crutches against the bar again. He waved the bartender over, then looked at Mike who was still standing there.

“Do I have say it again for you?” Logan snarled. “Trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Logan sat down slowly as the three men backed up and turned away. Remus pressed a thankful hand to his shoulder, also meant to calm him down a bit.

“Well, that was fun,” Thomas sighed. “Jesus. We take you out to forget about it and those three show up.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said, though his heart was pounding. “I’m surprised that was the first time it happened. Had a close call at the grocery store the other day.”

“Another round?” Logan asked. “Then pool?”

“Ouais,” Remus smiled, in his best impression of Sirius.

Most of November passed without change. Remus felt the stagnant ball of frustration in his stomach. He and Sirius cooked together, slowly mastering more and more recipes. Remus lived for the triumphant look on Sirius’ face when a dish came out just right. He went out with Logan and Thomas, with James and Sirius, Finn and Jackson and Kasey. He never felt more at home than when he was tucked against Sirius’ side at a team dinner, watching Logan toss food into Finn’s mouth from across the table, hollering when he caught it and then ruffling an embarrassed Leo’s hair, who was shushing them.

The weather had officially turned to Gryffindor winter, biting harsher and harsher with each night. It got to the point where Marlene started bugging them all about the Christmas video—for the fans, she kept insisting. Come on guys, it’ll be fun!

Evgeni seemed to be the only one who was truly game for it.

Remus wasn’t unhappy, but the media was growing more and more aggravated with him, the fans’ patience was running thin like ice, and now Arthur had started sending him glancing looks until, finally, he pulled Remus into his office as the boys were packing up.

The ball rolled around Remus’ ribs, fighting for space with his heart, and he sat in the leather chair across from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur took off his glasses, which was a bad sign. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Remus didn’t have the courage to make him.

“I know,” Remus finally said, and then his throat choked up. “I’m…”

“I don’t want any apologies,” Arthur said. “And, God, Lupin, I didn’t bring you in here to yell at your so get that look off your face.”

Remus blinked through the scarce relief and looked down at his hands.

“Media’s being real tough, I know,” Arthur sighed. “I know. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “I’m just…it’s not connecting, I…I don’t know. Maybe I could put in more time one-on-one with one of the coaches. Or ground work with the trainers. I know we’re about to go on the road. Maybe tomorrow morning before practice.”

Arthur hesitated, then nodded. “If you’d like. But overworking yourself isn’t gonna help if that’s not the issue. Frankly, I don’t think skill is the issue. You’re a beautiful skater out there. You’re wicked fast and can misdirect hits like I’ve never seen. But…”

“No net,” Remus mumbled.

Arthur looked regretful. “No net.”

Remus nodded. “I’m working on it. I’m doing everything I can.”

“I don’t doubt that, Remus. Really. Don’t think I do. I’ll be seeing you at the Dumais Thanksgiving, yeah?” Arthur asked.

Remus nodded, spared a smile. “Of course.”

Arthur smiled back and rose. He clapped Remus on the back as he opened the door to his office again. “Good. Try and relax over the break, okay? I know it’s short, but sometimes its less work that pays off. It doesn’t always have to be more.” He looked up. “Ah, another young rascal I’ve had to say that to.”

Remus looked up to see Sirius’ smile, his dark hair curling against his neck, but otherwise tucked under a thick black winter hat. Every muscle in Remus’ body eased at the sight of him. He wanted to wrap himself up in Sirius, tuck himself inside of his winter coat and never leave.

“Cap,” Arthur gave him a nod. “See you for Turkey. Who you’ve got for the big game?”

Sirius just shrugged. “American football. Who cares?”

Arthur made a wounded noise—and another one came from Leo and Thomas down the hall as they were bundling up for the cold. Evgeni was holding Thomas’ crutches for him as Jackson helped him into his coat. Remus cracked up and took the warm palm Sirius held out. They walked down the hallway that smelled familiar and warm, under toned by the scent of carpet and cleaner that, had it been any stronger, would have been unpleasant, but it just added to the familiarity.

The garage door rattled shut behind them as Sirius unlocked their back door, letting them into their warm kitchen. Remus shook out of his coat, hanging it in the closet and rubbing his hands together. With his coat and bag, he tried to drop everything else at the door. This was his and Sirius’ space. This wasn’t a rink, or a locker room, or the press room. Theirs. The word was warmer than the heat Sirius had set to come on a half hour before they got home.

“I’m starving,” he said. “What do you feel like? I maybe want pasta.”

“I feel like you,” came the reply from behind him.

Remus’ smile was slow and he turned to see a glint in Sirius’ eye. “What is it, the cold weather? You’ve been all riled up after games lately.”

Sirius just grinned, hands squeezing Remus’ hips. “I love watching you out there.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, his neck and his nose, between each phrase. “I love your face, I love your feet, I love your shoulders, and the way you bite the finger of your glove while you watch the game between shifts.” The kisses got considerably more heavy, lingering and accompanied by the the brush of a tongue and teeth. “I love the way you cradle a puck and the way you tape your stick. The way your hair sticks to your neck.”

Remus just smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been playing like shit.”

“Nu-uh,” Sirius said, and Remus whined a little at the next nip, letting Sirius rock him back against the kitchen counter. “Slumps are normal. You play amazing. Just no points. Shit and slumps,” Sirius said, and Remus’ mouth went dry as he was lowering himself to his knees. “Shit and slumps are different.”

Remus let out a laugh. “Aren’t those the words to turn a guy on.”

Sirius just grinned and bit at his pants zipper. “I love you.”

“Better choice.”

Sirius carefully pulled Remus’ zipper down. “Can I? Here?”

Remus only reply was tugging Sirius’ hat free to get at his hair, the thick strands weaving between his fingers. He could already feel himself getting interested, pressing against the slip of his boxers by Sirius’ proximity alone.

“Sirius Black,” Remus sighed as Sirius nuzzled against him. He stroked over his hair, overwhelmed with how much every part of Sirius meant to him. “I love you.”

Sirius took one of the hands Remus had in his hair by and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Remus let Sirius’ mouth fuzz his mind out, moaning softly at his hollowed out cheeks, laughing at the gentle nips to his hips and thighs. After, Sirius kissed him against the counter until both of their stomachs growled. Remus pressed his mouth against Sirius’ flushed hot cheek.

“I feel like a million bucks, thanks, baby.”

Sirius just smiled, tucking himself away.

It was true. Remus felt home. Settled. Almost as if he could forget the conversation today. Maybe even like he wanted to go down the the basement rink, just for fun, which he hadn’t felt like in a while.

“D’accord,” Remus sing-songed. “We have pasta or chicken or both.”

Sirius grinned. “Both.”

They were mostly quiet as they cooked, bumping hips, iPhone playing softly through their speakers. Remus watched the way Sirius kept his fingers carefully curled away from the knife, like Remus’ mom had taught him that summer. His tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth, the same way it did when he was carrying a puck up the ice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asked softly as Remus minced garlic.

Remus glanced over at him, then kept his eyes on his fingers, so close to the sharp blade. “Um. Coach says it’s not my fault. He says I’m playing well. It’s just…pointless.”

“C’est pas—”

“No, not like pointless, like, pointless. Like I’m not getting net.”

“Ah.”

They smiled at each other, Remus’ a little shakier.

“Yeah.”

I feel like I’m letting you down.

“I feel…” Remus began, and the words caught. “Um. I mean, it’ll get better. It has to.”

Sirius’ expression flickered, but he nodded. “Mhm.”

“Do you feel like a white sauce?” Remus asked, turning to the refrigerator. “Go well with the chicken.”

“Sure,” Sirius nodded. “Sounds perfect, mon loup.”

Remus took a long breath as he opened the refrigerator doors, maybe taking longer than necessary to find the half & half. He was angry at himself. He didn’t know why the words were sticking to the back of his throat. He didn’t want pity, he supposed. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to comfort him. Remus closed his eyes.

He’d do better.

Leo and Finn had their shoulders pressed together, each with their own book in their hands, when Logan opened the apartment door.

“Got the cream,” Logan raised the shopping back, and Leo all but leapt from the cushions.

“Yeah you do,” Finn said without looking up.

“Thank you,” Leo slid on his socks in his rush to get to Logan. He pressed his palms to Logan’s cold cheeks, kissing him in a quick burst. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Logan smiled as Leo scurried back into the kitchen to finish making his part of the the American Thanksgiving dinner Pascal was hosting.

“I can’t believe I ran out,” Leo said, stirring something on the stove.

“It’s fine, Le,” Logan said, shrugging out of his jacket and following him in. “Happy to get you whatever you need.”

Leo turned, a touched pout on his face, and Logan beat him to it this time with a slower kiss of his own. Leo tasted like the caramel he had had them all taste test earlier and Logan licked into his mouth eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Logan mumbled.

Leo’s expression softened in the way it always did when one of them said that. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck.

“Want to peel sweet potatoes?” Leo asked with a hopeful grin, and Logan laughed.

“Sure, soleil.”

Finn gasped from the couch, eyes on his book, glasses on his nose. “They kissed. I fucking knew they would.”

Leo gasped, too. “No. Harzy, spoilers, you’re faster than me.”

Logan looked between them. “Are you guys reading the same book again, like, next to each other?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he was gripping the book like another secret might spill out. “And yes.”

Leo pressed a peeler into his hands with another kiss, this one fast and skittering across his cheekbone.

“I love both of you,” Logan sighed as he picked up the first potato. “You’re weird.”

Finn closed his book without marking his place and heaved himself up with a groan, cracking his back. He came to sit at the bar counter across from where Logan was peeling.

“Thanks for the help, Harz,” Logan said.

“I don’t like it when my hands smell like potato.”

Leo laughed. “Sweetheart, how’d you ever survive on your own?”

“Take out,” Finn and Logan answered at the same time.

“And catering,” Finn added. “I think the NHL is used to boys who can’t cook. Marlene just slid the caterer’s card into my hand without a word.”

Leo just shook his head. “She tried the same thing on me. Honey, please.”

Logan and Finn shared a smile, both turning to gaze at Leo’s back.

“How much time do we have?” Leo asked.

“Like, two hours, babe, you’re good,” Finn said.

“Do I have time to ravish you in your glasses?” Logan asked.

Finn raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, these old things? You want to wear them?”

Logan dropped his peeler and walked around the counter. He spun Finn to face him on the stool and Finn’s feet hooked around his calves, holding him there. “Non.”

Finn smiled, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s bottom lip and pull.

“Tremblay, potatoes.”

Logan groaned and Finn gave his butt a firm slap as he pulled away. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Uh, hey dad,” Cole cleared his throat. “It’s me. I just um. I’m in Pascal Dumais’ house. Can you believe that? Uh, I just wanted to say…you know, happy Thanksgiving, and all that. Maybe you can come out to a game soon? Yeah…let me know, I can get you tickets. Okay. Okay, see you. Merry—or happy Thanksgiving. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Cole sighed as he put his phone down and looked around the Dumais’ sitting room. It was tidy, with food laid out every table, ready for guests. Cole, after that phone call, already felt tired.

There was a knock on the doorframe and he turned to see Layla, smiling at him hesitantly. She held out a glass of a deep colored wine. “I thought maybe you’d want some.”

“Oh, I can’t, uh…” Cole began.

Layla snorted. “Me neither, but…” she glanced around the tall-ceilinged living room. “Who’s gonna tell? Dumo? Please.”

Cole laughed a little and took the thin stem from her fingers. “Thank you.”

Layla nodded, bending for a cheese and cracker. “That sounded a little tough. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Cole pocketed his phone. “It’s not really. Well…maybe now it is. But I don’t think of him that way, of this that way. He’s a good father.”

He sounded defensive even to himself and sighed. “When he decides to be.”

“He hard on you?” Layla asked. She took a seat on the couch and Cole glanced around before settling on the ottoman of one of the fat leather chairs. “About all this?”

“Hockey?” Cole said, then laughed. “No. No way, he doesn’t give a shit about ice hockey. My mom got me into hockey. My dad still hopes I’ll be, like, I don’t know…I don’t know what.”

Layla frowned. “It’s not like you could’ve been a money-bags doctor and chose to paint watercolors instead?”

Cole cracked a smile. “Yeah…Yeah, he sort of skipped around a lot before I actually started getting good.”

“Oh,” Layla said softly.

The doorbell rang. And then rang again and again, like someone was jamming their finger into it repeatedly.

“Tremzy!” he heard Katie shriek a moment later.

Warm voices filled the hall.

Cole rose and, after a moment, offered Layla a hand. She smiled, letting him pull her up. “It’s not as sob-story as it sounds.”

“I get it,” Layla nodded. “My older sister skipped altogether when I was little. Still don’t know why. I know it’s not the same but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

Layla just smiled, one of her bright ones, and wrapped her hand—gold rings and all—around his arm. “Come on. Shit’s about to get wild.”

“And delicious,” Cole said, turning towards the smells coming from the kitchen.

Layla laughed, and Cole wanted to hear that sound twenty more times.

213 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

If you're still taking requests, could you do one where someone is making Remus really uncomfortable and someone from the team helps him out? (Preferably Sirius, Leo, Logan, James, or Dumo but everything you do is so good so it really doen't matter 😂❣)

Yep! Please take a look at the TW below before reading, since there are parts of this that are a bit intense. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Combined with protective Sirius and Leo/ Loops friendship!

TW for a super creepy guy, unwanted handholding, unwanted flirting/ not taking no for an answer, innuendo, moderate panic attack, and alcohol

The folding chair next to Remus creaked as a tall man in a perfectly-tailored suit sat down hard in it. He was clearly a drink or two past tipsy, and something in Remus’ throat itched at the way the man’s eyes flickered across his chest and arms. “You’re Lupin, right? The new Lion?”

Remus set his drink down. “That’s me.”

“Stan Martin, nice to meet you.” Stan held his hand out and Remus shook it; his palm was clammy, and he held on just a second too long. Remus was the first to pull away after he felt a light squeeze from wrinkled fingers.

“Pleasure’s mine,” Remus said with a polite smile. Sirius was nowhere in sight, and everyone else was occupied in their own conversations. He swallowed hard. “Do you own a team?”

“Nah, I just fund ‘em,” Stan snorted. “Too much work otherwise, not enough time for play, if you know what I mean.”

Remus forced a laugh. “Right, yeah, totally. Are you involved with the Lions? I’m a bit new to the whole administration thing.”

“Even after being a PT for so long?” Stand gave him an incredulous look, but beneath it there was a shadow Remus didn’t like.

“Yep. I was pretty contained to my tape pallets and charts.” Joke it off, Lupin.

A hand, heavy from alcohol and lack of inhibitions, fell on Remus’ forearm with a few clumsy pats before settling on his wrist. Stan looked directly into his eyes. “If you ever need someone to, ah, show you the ropes, give me a call.”

Remus cleared his throat and tried to pull his arm away, but the hand didn’t budge. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but thank you for the offer.”

“No, really. The NHL is a complicated world. I’d be more than happy to take some of that weight off your shoulders.” Stan leaned closer and Remus tensed as his eyes roved his face. “Your freckles are much more striking in real life, Lupin.”

“Please let go of my arm, Mr. Martin.”

“Call me Stan.”

“Let go of me, Martin.”

An awful little grin spread over his thin lips. “You’re a spitfire, aren’t you? Too much for Captain Solitude, I bet.”

He jerked his head to the side of the room, where Remus saw Sirius making polite conversation with a woman in a long dress. A spike of fury bubbled up. “Are you talking about my fiancé?”

“Easy, tiger, I’m just saying—” He hiccupped and Remus tried to pull away, but Stan’s grip tightened by a fraction. “—I’m just saying, you could do better with someone who knows how to handle you.”

“I can handle myself just fine. If you don’t stop talking shit about my fiancé, I’ll—”

“What? You’ll do what?” Stan leered at him and Remus paused to shove down his nausea. “You know, you were much prettier before you tried to be like the rest of these jocks.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“I’m just being honest,” Stan huffed, never releasing Remus’ arm from his hold. Remus could feel his shoulders starting to shake. “You’ve got those cute little cheekbones. Very delicate, like—almost feminine. Those training regimens they put you on ruined it, in my opinion. Look, Lupin, when you get tired of tall, dark, and boring over there, gimme a call and you can be pretty aga—”

“What’s going on over here?” a falsely bright voice cut in. The chair on Remus’ other side clicked at its joints as Leo sat down, looking between them with icy eyes. “Am I missing out on all the fun?”

“Hey, Knutty,” Remus managed, wincing as his voice cracked. Stan leaned back in his chair and Remus quickly yanked his arm away, tangling his fingers together.

“Lupin and I were just having a chat,” Stan said, glancing back down at Remus’ lap until he tucked his hands under his thighs. “Nothing big and important.”

Leo’s knee pressed against his own. “Sirius was looking for you a minute ago.”

Stan’s jaw tightened. “What, we can’t finish our conversation?”

“No.” Remus channeled all his roiling discomfort and the urge to knock the creep’s teeth in as he stood up. “No, this conversation has been done for a while. Have a nice night, Mr. Martin.”

Leo’s arm was steady across his shoulders as they walked away; Remus’ vision tunneled, sparkling black at the sides. “Are you gonna be alright?” Leo asked under his breath, his accent soothing. Remus nodded. “You’re shaking, Re.”

“No, I’m not.” He grabbed a plastic cup of water off a nearby tray and nearly sloshed it all over himself. “Jesus fucking—”

“Re.” He could feel his teeth starting to chatter and sweat rolled down the too-tight collar of his shirt. Leo’s hand closed loosely around his own and took the cup. “C’mon.”

“Sirius was looking for me,” he protested as Leo led him down a side hall.

Leo shrugged. “Probably.”

“…he didn’t talk to you.”

“Nope.”

“You came to get me anyway.”

“Yep.”

The clog in Remus’ chest grew and he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Thanks, Knutty.”

A sharp puff of air cooled his burning face. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“I tried to leave.” The words tangled around his tongue as Leo pushed open the bathroom door and led him to the sinks, dampening some paper towels. “I—fuck, Leo, I’m stronger than him but he was holding my arm so tight and I was so fucking freaked.”

“Easy, Re.” Leo sounded like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.

The towels were a balm in Remus’ hands and on his face as he pressed them over his mouth to muffle the wheezing noises. “I’d rather be called a slur to my face than have that happen again.”

The gentle circles on his back stopped for a second. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t—no. I just wanna go home.”

“Deep breaths.” Leo handed him a new towel to blow his nose, then pulled his phone out.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a kickass friend?”

A weak smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but his face was still troubled. “Once or twice.”

Remus’ lungs were tight with a mix of fear and disgust; he felt a little like he wanted to throw up, and while Leo’s hand on his back was an anchor to the world, the rest of him screamed ‘don’t touch me’.

Barely two minutes later, the bathroom door swung open. “Honey? What happened?”

“Holy shit,” Remus managed as gray eyes swam into his field of view. Sirius. Sirius meant safety. Reality zoomed back at double speed and the dam broke—tears poured down his cheeks as his whole body began to shake again. “Holy shit.”

Sirius shushed him softly, pulling him close with a kiss to the top of his head. “D’accord, mon loup, je t’ai.”

“I love you,” Remus sobbed. The fabric of Sirius’ suit was probably wrinkling under his tight grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I love you so much for exactly who you are, okay? Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I know.” Confusion edged his voice, but he kept it low and gentle. Remus loved him for it, wildly. The door creaked as Leo left, and then there was silence.

He finally pulled his face out of Sirius’ chest, kissing his jaw, cheek, and lips before resting his forehead in the curve of his neck. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ hands eased through the curls above his ears as he cupped Remus’ face in his hands. “What happened, Re?”

Remus shook his head as revulsion rose again. “There was this creep and he wouldn’t let me go. Said some shitty stuff.”

“He was homophobic?” An angry furrow appeared between Sirius’ brows.

“I wish.” Stan’s words rang in his ears and made his mouth bitter with shame. Remus closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Sirius’ face during his confession. “He, uh—he propositioned me. Kind of.”

“He what?”

“I didn’t catch on until he already had my arm.” Remus sniffled, pressing the heel of his hand below his eye to stem the tears. “He followed it up with some bullshit about you, and then some bullshit about me, and just wouldn’t shut up. I just froze. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, mon amour.” Sirius’ touch was so gentle on him, warm and broad compared to the crushing discomfort of Stan Martin. His hands were heavy, but they let Remus move however he liked.

“I love you,” Remus said again.

“I love you, too. Are you ready to go home?”

“I need a minute.” He rubbed his face against the soft lapels of Sirius’ jacket, desperate for comfort around the guilt wedged in his chest; his next words spilled out before he could choke them down again. “You still like me, right?”

“I love you so much—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You—am I still nice to look at? Now that I’m not, y’know, pretty and kinda twink-y.” There was a long stretch of silence. “Is that a yes?”

“Sorry, I had to take a second and stop myself from putting that fucking idiot through a table.” Sirius took a step back and met Remus’ eyes, fixing him with a hard look. “First of all, I love everything about you, and you will always be the most beautiful man on earth. Second, your muscles are the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. Third, you’ve never been—what word did you use?”

“Twink-y. It’s like…delicate. Femme. Etcetera, etcetera.”

More anger sparked in Sirius’ eyes. “Yeah, and you’ve never been delicate. You are the strongest person I know, Re. Whatever he said to you, it wasn’t true.”

“Can we go home now?”

“Absolutely.”

The ballroom was still crowded with high-end management and people Remus never wanted to see again when they finally left the bathroom; thankfully, the throngs of sparkles and dark suits made it easy for them to slip away with minimal human interaction. Stan Martin was over by the water cups, dabbing uselessly at a large wine stain across the front of his crisp white shirt—Remus saw Leo watching him like a hawk with a suspiciously empty wineglass in his hand and internally vowed to give him the biggest hug of his life at the next practice.

Remus slowed down to take in the fresh nighttime air, holding Sirius’ hand tight in his own as they crossed the parking lot. He paused at the passenger door and tugged him in for a slow kiss. “I love you,” he mumbled, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and cologne.

Sirius’ arms wrapped around him and Remus melted into the hug. He felt him trembling slightly, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the chilly breeze. “You are the best part of my life, Re,” he whispered, his voice thick. “The best part, no matter what. I’m so sorry for what happened tonight.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either.” Sirius kissed the top of his forehead once before giving him a squeeze and going to the other side of the car. “I’m sure Hattie will agree with me once we’re home.”

Two hours, one hot shower, and thirty minutes of puppy cuddles later, Remus curled up against Sirius’ ribs and felt his chest rise and fall under his palm. “I love you,” he said quietly.

Sirius let out a slow breath and entwined their fingers, kissing the inside of his wrist. “Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Impossible.”

He could hear Sirius’ smile, even in the darkness of their bedroom, and fell asleep to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

249 notes · View notes

fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

Note

Yay Loceit! (Ignore me, I have Loceit brainrot.) Can we see the zoo date? I would love to see the zoo date! (Is there a possibility of encountering Remus and make it a conjoined date? But, like, we don't tell him that's what it is? Because we don't wanna overwhelm the guy.)

(Words: 2712)

Janus: "Don't worry dear fiend. I have Loceit brainrot as well.....ALSo yes!! I totally haven't been waiting to tell someone all about the date. Pff totally not...So basically..."

When Janus arrived by the entrance of the zoo Logan was already waiting outside. They excitedly waved at each other before running up and clashing in a loving hug.

"So how is my one and only still not poisoned boyfriend doing?" Janus asked with a slight giggle in his voice.

“Very well now when I am with you”

Logan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His boyfriend already had a big grin on his lips but it only grew with the kiss.

He had on a blue suspenders, jeans and a t-shirt with some dude printed on it. The snake had tried to dress extra nice for his first ever date (!!) so he had his long black skirt and his finest purple shirt.

“That is...Jean-luc Picard..right?” He pointed at Logan’s t-shirt.

He flapped his hands around “Correct! I see that the star trek watching is teaching you a lot!”

“Well I do have a good teacher so of course”

The compliment left rosy blush on Logan’s cheeks. He took his boyfriend’s hand and intertwined their fingers before walking into the zoo. It had a big outside area for different larger animals and then a bulding to the west filled with frogs, fish, snakes, etc, etc.

Neither of them were that interested in the large animals. Though Janus did snark about how he looked like a seal and Logan stopped to take photos of the bears so he could show them to Patty later.

It wasn't until they passed a sign Logan suddenly let up into happy stims. He pointed to a house with big look through windows.

"Birds!"

He dragged Janus along with him to one of the windows. kestrels, subirds and kingfishers were flying around and vibing among trees and hung out fruit treats. A small crowd around them was also looking at the different birds.

Logan pointed between his boyfriend and the birds as if Jan hadn’t already seen them. He kept stimming his arm back and forth.

"Their aerodynamics are so fascinating don’t you think. Aside from humans they are the animal that are consistently closest to space and all because of their biology. They are like natural born astronauts”

“I respect any creature who can leave any and all social situations by flying away. Big dick move as some” Remus “says” Janus replied.

“If birds had too big dicks I think it would disturb their flying but yes I get your point” He let out a dreamy sigh “Oh what I would do to be able to inspect bird teeth, not to even talk about their wings!”

Logan squeezed his hand and smiled at him before dragging him over to the next bird. It was several big secretary birds. They were walking instead of flying.

"These ones are known for eating snakes" Lo commented "Are you feeling frightened?"

"Ah yes darling, I am already close to death from fear" He replied in as much of a monotone he could muster. They both chuckled.

Logan went on a long ramble about how the different biology of the species made the flying look and work different. His voice went a bit louder than it usually was, it always got like that when he was excited. Janus wouldn’t have minded it if there weren’t other people there.

He nodded along to his boyfriend’s rant but kept glancing to the people around them. Some of them were looking at Logan. Janus gulped. Suddenly holding his boyfriends hand hurt.

Janus quietly moved his hand away. His throat tightened. The people weren’t looking anymore but it felt like they did, like ants crawling up his skin. It had probably been a stupid idea to wear the skirt.

Obviously Logan noticed but he didnt say anyrhing about it. He finished his rant and asked "Do you want to reunite with your relatives- I mean look at the snakes now?"

"I uh “ He forced a confident smirk “Of course darling. It it prime time to return to my people!!”

They walked away from the birds and went down the sunny path towards the house that stored snakes among other things. It was lined by neatly cut trees and homes for mammals. They didn’t hold hands.

Janus kept fiddling with his gloves to the point of not even looking where he was walking. He bit the inside of his cheek until it was bleeding.

“Are you feeling alright?” Logan asked.

“Never been better!”

“If it is about the hand holding feeling nervous is nothing to be embarrassed about. When I first held hands with Patty I got so flustered I proceeded to walk into a swing and break my glasses”

Janus glanced around to the people around them “Ah yes that is definitely why I’m acting this way. Spot on dear”

His boyfriend looked in the same direction he did “Oh alright I understand now” He patted him on the shoulder “Well I will have you know I have taken part in multiple physical fights to protect Patty from harassement, I did win most of them. I will of course do the same thing for you”

He said it so casually Janus nearly lost it “Exscuse me wHAT?”

Logan leaned down so they were eye to eye and put his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders “Sweetheart I can and will break someone’s nose for you”

“That’s the most romantic thing someone has ever said to me”

“I would go for their kneecaps as well”

Janus clasped his hand over his heart and gasped in an overly dramatic tone “Oh such erotiscism you’re showing today!”

“I am legally obliged to show it off every now and then”

He straightened his back and continued to walk down the path. Janus hesitantly reached out to take his hand. Shame tugged at his heart but he buried his face against his boyfriend’s arm to try and ignore it. Logan gently moved his thumb up and down his skin in response.

“....I do still advise that you talk to Picani about it. I am aware it’s hard but if what you’ve told me about your mental health is true I believe it would be beneficial. I could help! I know Picani! Very intimately!”

“Darling please you don’t have to keep reminding me you’ve fucked my fake therapist” Janus sighed “I don’t know if I deserve to take up his time, I’m not That bad”

“Sweetie that is first degree bullshit” Logan replied very gently “There is scientifically no way to accurately compare two people’s mental healths to conclude which is worse. Trust me I did a study on it in college! Do I need to brag about my degree more?”

Janus let out a half hearted chuckle “I’ll think about it. Let’s focus on the snakes for now”

“Thinking about it is good enough for me” He pressed a kiss to his forehead.

They entered the building. The first room was lit in a calming blue because of the giant windows showing off octopuses and rays swimming around. A sign was pointing over to the frog and snake rooms.

Janus looked around the room in awe and- HOLY HELL REMUS WAS THERE. He sat crosslegged on a bench in front of the octopuses. He had headphones on and was focusing on the sketchbook in his hands.

In a panic Janus started to drag his boyfriend with him to the frogs. Logan saw how flustered his boyfriend had suddenly become and looked around. He saw Remus as well and stopped in his tracks which forced his boyfriend to also stop.

“Does that happen to be the other guy you have a romantic interest in?”

“We’re here to look at snakes not at men Loganson!”

"Aww" Logan flapped his free hand "There are few things i like more than getting to see my partner being loved by someone else they love! We must talk to him"

"Oh- Oh god-" Janus let out while being tugged along.

Remus flinched when Logan shoved his ready to be shaken hand almost into his face. His whole body tensed to an uncomfortable degree.

"Greetings! I have no idea who you are!" Lo exclaimed.

He took off his headphones and looked up at him with panic in his eyes "Uh yeah" He saw Jan and immediately let out a breathe of relief. His shoulders relaxed slightly. "Hiya snakey~ Is This dude your snack?"

Janus was dying. He was dead. This was hell.

"NO! He's my sworn enemy! I'm here to use one of the sharks to kill him!"

Logan gasped "You are? How rude. Such a waste of the shark’s time when a bullet would do"

"Yeah!” Remus added “Anus! If that even is your real name-”

“It’s not”

“-I thought you would be much better at murder! Shark murder is sooo the 70's. Where's the orchestrated acrobatic dance knife throwing???"

Janus let out a dramatic huff "You simply don’t understand how hard it is to be a strong independent complete idiot and a serial murderer at the same time"

Logan nodded in sumpathy "Stranger would you like to accompany us on the rest of our zoo experience?"

He closed his sketchbook. Pages had been filled with doodles of the octopuses "Sure! I'm Remus by the way"

"Ah yes" They began to walk down the hallways lined by animal habitats. He held onto Janus’ hand "You were killed by your twin according to Roman mythology"

"I know!! That's why I chose it"

"Fascinating. I'm Logan. My parents chose it because of the X-man" His parents were also huge nerds.

“Hah dorks!” Remus said while skipping alongside them “Why are you holding hands? Is that a rule at zoos? Oh shit have I been doing zoos wrong???”

“I don’t think so. We are only doing it” Lo glanced at his still flustered boyfriend “.....to aggravate homophobes....yes...”

“COol!! Can I join?”

Logan nodded. Remus proceeded to take Janus’ free hand and happily tugged at it while skipping along. Jan had been wrong. NOW he was dying. His face was so hot from blushing he swore he could melt chocolate on it. The only way this could get ‘worse’ was if he suddenly grew a third arm and Remy appeared to hold it.

“Murder frogs!!” Remus exclaimed while stopping outside a window.

Inside sat several poison dart frogs in a pond surronded by leaves. They were in pretty neon colors and small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. Remus jumped up and down from excitement before pressing his entire face up against the glass.

“They’re the most poisonous animal in the world!!! Snakey you should murder Lo with this one!! These bitches can kill like 10 people with 1 poison thingie!!! it’s so cool!!”

“I have read that they can live to up to 15 years so they have ample time to kill hundreds of people in their lifetime” Logan replied.

“!!!! You are SO right!!! That’s my life goal as well!” Remus turned to look around the room and his eyes turned as big as a cat’s “Fucking hell. Look at how THICK that lizard is!!!”

Janus kept being dragged around between the two while they explored the animals. The saw toads stacked on top of each other, insects swarming around and exactly 1 incredibly friendly chameleon who climbed across a tree to get as close to the glass as it could.

Just holding both of their hands was so much to take in but hearing them rant facts to each other while looking so so happy made his heart feel things he didn’t know it could feel. He wanted to kiss them both and beg them to please never ever shut up.

The zoo melted away as he daydreamed about living as a poly relationship. Getting to see them both be this close and happy every day. Getting to hold them both like this every day. Getting to fall asleep next to them. Oh he was so-

“Hey Snakey you’ve been pretty quiet” Remus interrupted “Whatcha think?”

“dfshkjskj” Janus very eloquently let out. He buried his flushed pink face in the fabric of Logan’s shirt.

“Huh. Exactly what I was thinking! Onwards to the snakes!!”

The snake room was oval shaped. The walls were made up of windows into different giant vivariums decorated with branches, warm rocks and food. In the biggest vivarium several big samar cobras were lazing about. They were both big enough and venomous enough to kill a man.

Janus let go of his crushes to press his palms against the glass and wave at the snakes. He looked back at his boyfriend with a big goofy grin “Look at these babies!!”

“They are indeed very pretty”

“They eat rats! Their venom is able to destroy tissue so if you get the venom in your eyes it can create total blindness!! They-” He stopped himself. Stopped his stimming as well “Sorry. I’m rambling”

Remus patted his shoulder “No. Go on. I wanna hear, about the other snakes as well. I promise” Logan nodded along.

Janus hesitated, but they both looked at him with such loving looks he quietly continued “Okay well what I was going to say was...”

They went around and looked at every snake. The other two happily listened to him infodump about every species there. Sometimes they held hands. Sometimes they all stimmed together. Janus was smiling so much his cheeks hurt.

They stayed sitting by the snakes. Janus leaned his head against the glass to bop his nose to the snakes while Remus and Logan ranted to each other about their favorite obscure sci-fi movies (they also exchanged numbers).

The three of them had a sudden realization that they all loved murder mysteries and decided they had to have some sort of murder mustery movie night some time in the future.

(Logan also saw a poster about how around Christmas snake petting spots overseered by snake experts would be open. He didn’t tell the other two. He figured he would use it as a surprise Christmas gift)

Eventually the zoo got close to closing. It was Logan who had to drag them both away from the snakes and octopuses. The 2 drama kings acted like Lo was dragging them away from their children.

Once they stood on the street outside the zoo Remus said goodbye. For a moment it looked like he was moving in to hug Janus but he decided not to. He disappeared down the street to catch the bus.

“So” Logan turned to his boyfriend “Was it a satisfactory first date?”

Janus rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and moving up on his toes to kiss him on his nose “It was absolutely horrible darling! I hated every second of it!”

“Glad to hear it” His voice softened “I’m proud of you honey”

“It was just a date. It’s nothing. Nothing if it’s with you”

“Well I shall still be proud, because you can not stop me, and I shall still be percentage wise incredibly in love with you” He pressed a loving kiss to his forehead “I will see you at work then”

“Not if I’ve gotten my invisibility spell to work by then muhahah” Janus slowly let go of him “Love you!”

Janus stood by the entrance watching as his boyfriend (it still made him giddy to think that) went to his car. He gulped and tensed his shoulders once he was all alone. He walked over to a more desolate spot and sat down on the side of the payment.

He scrolled through the contacts on his phone while the image of Logan’s smile repeated in his brain. He let out a shaky breathe as he moved the phone up to his ear and listened to the signals.

“Hiya Janister!” The cheery voice of Dr. Picani rang out.

“Hello...I.....I would....I’m just looking to ask if there’s a chance I could book a time for solo therapy? I’m...I’m...honestly not so sure if I’m completely okay...or if my childhood was okay either, but I’m sure I want to get better”

#loceit #dukeceit #demus #thanks for the ask!!#suggesting remus would be there was a really good idea!#janus sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #for yalls information in the fic universe they are somewhere in august so christmas is quite a bit away

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kitkat4406 · 3 years

Text

TW- the homophobic f slur, homophobia in general, racism, a swear

Pairings- Platonic Virgil and Remus

Part five > Part seven

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Remus whispered, fixing his hair that showed under his beanie. Virgil laughed lightly.

“Yes, it's just a small lunch date, there's nothing to worry about, I'll meet him with you and then I'll head off so you can go to lunch in peace,” Virgil said, fixing Remus’ collar of his plaid shirt. “Just calm down, it's going to be okay” Remus stared at him in the mirror.

“You're telling me to calm down.” Remus muttered, stepping away from the mirror and slipping his shoes on. “Look, I’m just nervous, okay? He ghosted me all day yesterday then just randomly said let's go out for lunch” Virgil smiled reassuringly, patting his shoulder.

“Remus, I’ll be with you for the first like, ten minutes. If he seems like bad news i'll get you outta there, I promise” Remus sighed, nodding.

“I know you will, I again.. Just worry” The two came to a comfortable silence, before Remus almost jumped out of his skin when his phone went off.

“Who is it?” Remus showed the phone to Virgil, nervousness rolling off Remus in waves. “He just wants to make sure you can make it dork,” Virgil laughed lightly. “Just saying that he wants to meet in the park you two went for a walk in” Remus said oh softly, nodding.

“We should get going then shouldn’t we…” Virgil hummed, grabbing the bag he had brought over.

“Yeah, it's a bit of a walk isn’t it?” Remus nodded, putting his phone into his pocket and following after Virgil.

“I don't want to keep him waiting, ' Remus mumbled. Virgil shrugged it off.

“We won't be late”

“We’re late! Awesome, wow! Thanks” Remus muttered bitterly. Virgil groaned.

“I didn't think we were going to be!” Remus looked at him exasperated.

“You stopped at a busy coffee shop because you needed tea!” Remus said anxiously, hoping Logan wouldn’t be upset. Remus looked around the park, spotting Logan at a bench reading. Remus bit at his lip, tugging on Virgil's sleeve. “He looks content” Virgil looked at him with an eye roll.

“He’s biting his lip, checking his watch every few seconds, and also, he is looking around not reading” Remus stared at Logan.

“How…” Virgil shrugged.

“I’m engaged to a therapist, Remus. Work it out” Remus shoved him playfully.

“Lets just go over” Logan then looked up, smiling slightly and standing in all his 6’ 8” glory. Virgil blew out a breath.

“Damn,” Virgil muttered. “He’s tall”

“Hello Remus, is this Virgil?” Remus nodded, not finding his voice as always. Virgil cleared his throat.

“Yeah, nice to meet you. I’m Remus’ best friend.” Virgil said, not letting Logan's taller nature affect him unlike Remus. Logan nodded.

“I’m sure you know who I am then” Virgil nodded, looking Logan up and down.

“Lets go have a chat while Remus works through his gay panic.” Logan snorted, while Remus looked at Virgil with an embarrassed whine. Virgil gave a peace sign, grinning before his face fell, looking serious as he talked with Logan. Logan nodded with what Virgil said as Remus attempted to calm down. Remus watched as Logan said a few things, before a serious and grim expression came over his face for half a second. Remus looked away, nerves flooding his veins.

“Remus?” Remus jumped, looking at Logan. He noticed Virgil off to the side thinking, before he nodded and waved by to Remus with a soft ‘your going to be in good hands.’ Remus looked up at Logan.

“Y-Yeah?” He asked, grabbing his shirt sleeve tightly.

“I hope you know I don't mean to hurt you in any way or bring you stress” Logan explained softly. Remus nodded.

“It’s okay, I just worry” Remus said lightly. Logan nodded before clearing his throat.

“I am not… very good at dates and feelings like these, so I hope you will forgive me with any mistakes I may make,” Logan said with a soft nod. Remus nodded.

“It’s okay, I’m not the best at saying how I’m feeling so its going to take a lot of communication on both ends,'' Remus said lightly. Logan hummed, the two falling silent before Logan cleared his throat.

“Well, we should go to our lunch now, yes?” Remus nodded, following after Logan.

The two talked and walked for awhile, before Remus very hesitantly touched Logan's hand. Logan hummed, stopping what he said and looking down at Remus, offering his hand. Remus shyly took it, smiling nervously as many thoughts filled his head. Was he holding his hand too tight? To light? Was he holding Logans hand right? Was his hand sweaty?

“Get a room you faggots!” Remus flinched, dropping Logan's hand and falling behind. Remus didn't notice Logan's eyes fill with rage, or how Logan seemed to examine the girl before his eyes narrowed.

“Last I knew, what me and my date did was none of your business” The girl rolled her eyes.

“Get out of America, I don't know where you’re from, but I know that you should go back” The girl hissed at Remus. His family was from Ecuador, yes, but he had been here since he was a year old. Remus shook his head, quickly walking away with Logan. Logan glanced back at the girl, before looking down at Remus.

“Are you okay Remus?” Logan asked kindly. Remus nodded.

“It happens all the time” Remus muttered bitterly. Logan shook his head.

“I apologize for that then Remus, you shouldn’t have to deal with it” Remus shrugged.

“Lets just get to our lunch thing” Remus mumbled, not taking Logans offered hand, even if he wanted to. Logan nodded with a slightly hurt expression, dropping his hand again.

“We’re just going to a restaurant I used to frequent, the food is very good in my opinion” Logan explained as they turned a corner. “They’re very friendly people too” Remus nodded, looking around the street, looking at the only restaurant around.

“That one?” Remus asked, pointing towards it. Logan nodded.

“Indeed it is” Logan said with a soft smile, crossing the street with Remus.

“That was a very good lunch,” Remus said with a grin. “It tasted like home cooking,” Remus laughed. Logan hummed with a smile.

“I happen to agree,” Logan nodded. “Now, should we go back to the park?” Remus hummed, nodding.

“I should probably get back to writing, my boss is on my ass again about getting this book out '' Remus said off handedly.

“I thought you were an author, not a newspaper editor or something” Logan said with a confused tone. Remus nodded.

“Exactly, I’m an author meaning I shouldn’t have any due date. God, I wish my boss just conveniently stopped existing sometimes” Remus laughed. Logan nodded.

“What’s his name?” Remus looked up at Logan.

“Why?” He asked with a light smile. “You gonna take him out for me or something?” He laughed.

“Sure” Logan shrugged, seemingly completely serious. Remus giggled.

“You're funny Lo, but no, he is normally a really cool guy, but his family is in a rough patch from what I know. I'll be fine” Remus grinned, taking Logan's hand with hesitation. Logan smiled, holding his hand.

“Okay, I suppose nothing will happen.” Remus laughed.

“Silly goose” Remus said, smiling up at Logan. Logan smiled at him too, before looking back up to make sure the two didn't run into anything.

#sanders sides #ao3 #fanfic #wattpad #a killer love #light angst #logan sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #raven writes

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acescreations · 4 years

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Roleplay Transcript (pt. 1)

So this is an old roleplay I got permission from my RP partner to post to my writing blog. I guess revisiting this is kind of a birthday gift to myself and also an apology gift to all of you guys for not writing for shit.

Warnings: Fighting, swearing, violence, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, homophobia, panic attacks

Ship(s): Platonic Analogical

Word Count: 12,553

When Logan went to school on his first day of junior year, he was filled with a strange sense of pride. Students shot glances at him, seemingly worried that Logan would for some reason pick a fight with them, which he would only really do if they were being a jerk and deserved it. Teachers read his name off the attendance list with a hopeless tone upon realizing they had Logan, before looking up with a disappointed resignation when they saw Logan's patch of electric blue hair. Logan had built up a reputation of being strong, of being tough. Just about every kid in school knew about him, whether they be the bullies he fought, the kids he was defending from the bullies, or just the people who saw the fights he was in.

Virgil’s first day at Mindset High was pretty scary. He didnt make friends easily, and he felt like everyone was judging him. He wore a soft lavender hoodie and royal purple sweat pants. Everyone seemed scared of this guy called Logan. I mean, he seemed so grumpy.. He sighed, sitting next to Logan.

Logan blinked in surprise as he watched another student sit down next to him. Most people tried to avoid him as much as possible, so he usually sat alone during class. Even when there were only enough desks for each student in the classroom, people usually pulled their desk a distance away after even the slightest glance from Logan. He guessed this kid sitting next to him hadn't heard of his reputation yet. Well, unfortunately for him, the two were in Logan's least favorite class: history. The class that Logan now associated with whitewashed nationalist propaganda, and arguing with the teacher.

Virgil decided that he would at least get to know this strange man that everyone seemed so.. reluctant to like？ “Uh, hello, I’m.. well, if.. I’m Virgil.” He said tamely, he hoped that they could.. maybe talk？A friend would be nice.

Logan looked over at Virgil with an even, if not cold, expression. That wasn't a name he recognized, so this was probably a new student, which explained why they were actually talking to him. "Logan," he said shortly. They'd learn soon enough that Logan was someone you didn't want to be associated with if you want to have even just a neutral social standing.

Virgil nodded nervously. The dude seemed to be angry at him？Did he provoke him？Should he move seats？ He sighed as he looked down at his work.

Logan put his feet up on the table in front of him, pulling out his phone as he waited for the teacher to, as he put it, "begin his attempt at brainwashing a class of impressionable teenagers."

“Today we shall learn about the history of people that.. well.. people who.. the homosexuals.. and.. others.” Virgil was completely stunned, before immediately grtting dissapointed. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” He mumbled.

"Oh hell no," Logan said out loud. Literally everyone in the room probably already guessed about Logan not being straight, so he didn't have anything to lose from being vocal about his distaste over the lesson. "Oh, FUCK no." Underneath his iwn complaining, however, he heard Virgil's much more quiet complaint. Okay, so this guy is actually pretty chill. That's good to know. By "chill" Logan meant "not a smallminded conservative" but those pretty much meant the same thing to him.

Virgil sighed. “This.. is fine.” He said. He was a closeted gay boy, he didnt need this. “Now, this shall be respectful..” The teacher rolled her eyes. “Now, what do we know about.. you know.. those people.”

Logan heard what Virgil said, but to him, this most certainly was not fine. He had already picked his battles, and he picked all of them. "If it's gonna be respectful then why don't you just say the word 'Gay'?" he yelled at the teacher.

The class went dead silent. Virgil sighed softly. If someone found out he was gay, he would die on the inside. “Well, as you all know, the bible said that homosexuals.. will rot in hell.”

"FALSEHOOD!" Logan screamed, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. "Respectful my ass! And how is this even history?!" Logan would go on, but if he's learned anything from the debate team, it's to let people keep saying stupid shit for Logan to prove wrong.

“Homosexuality is a diease. Now, now more recent years, we have homosexuality shoved down our throats. This is causing more parents to force their children to be gay. This all started because a black trans-” “Please stop talking..” Virgil groaned, tempted to just bash his head into the table.

"Gayness is NOT a disease," Logan said, smacking his hand on the table as he began talking over the teacher. "It's a human characteristic just like height or eye color. Gayness is NOT being 'shoved down our throats,'" he smacked the table again, "people are just getting introduced to labels they didn't originally have. Parents are NOT forcing their children to be gay-" smack "- most are actually beating and throwing their children out of their homes for being gay. But you know what? You just keep talking. Maybe one of these days you'll actually say something intelligent."

“You come from a biased pretense！You only see the side of the homosexuals, thats why you are one of the-” “OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE, CHANGE THE GOD DAMN SUBJECT YOU-” “Damn pastel！Didnt know you could speak.” A guy called out.

Logan immediately turned and shot a glare at the person who insulted Virgil, forgetting the current feud with the teacher for a moment. "If you're going to waste oxygen like that, at least keep it relevant to the conversation." Logan then turned back to the teacher. "You're the fucking biased one, you homophobe!" he shouted, pointing a finger at the teacher as he leaned nearly halfway across the table to yell at him.

“I am not a homophobe！I like.. the lesbians.” The teacher smirked, as Virgil began to laugh. Hes just,, this teacher, how did you get a job？ ”Fine. We will move onto a differ-”

For once in his life, Logan is so stunned by by what he's hearing reaches a loss for words. "How did you even get your teaching degree, you fucking creep?"

“I try to act respectful, and you insult me？I think people like you just stir up drama to draw attention to yourself.” Virgil had stopped laughing. He felt.. guilty. He shouldnt have laughed. Maybe the teacher was right？

Logan went completely silent, his hands curling into fists. "Don't. You. Ever. Generalize me. Like that." Then, to make sure he didn't try to physically fight his teacher, he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Virgil watched Logan leave, watched everyone whispering about how freaky Logan was. How gay he was.. Virgil stayed quiet and refused to speak to anyone.

Logan stormed down the hallway, absolutely fuming. He ended up in the school's gym, knowing there wasn't a gym class that period. He let out a shout of frustration as he punched a wall, which hurt, obviously, but it satisfied him and let out some of his anger. After that he just stood there, fist against the wall, breathing heavily.

Virgils scheduele was lost, so he asked around for his next class. They led him to the schools gym, and left him there, lost and confused. Time to make an unlikely friend.

Logan had since moved to sit on the bleachers, glancing up to glare as Virgil entered the gym. He was currently in a mindset that nobody would be friendly towards him, especially right now.

Virgil felt the glare, but sighed. He did promise Patton to make one friend at this god forsaken hell hole. He slowly walks up to Logan. “Uhrm, hi？”

"What do you want?" Logan growled. He recognized that this was the person who was sitting beside him in history, but he still felt like he'd antagonize Logan anyway. Most people did anyway.

He gave Logan a weak smile. “A..Are you okay？” He tilted his head. ”And where is the rest of our class？” He expected at least one othed person to come in. Poor thing.

"I'm fine," Logan snapped defensively, in a counter-productive attempt at convincing Virgil that that was actually true. "And there isn't a class in here right now." Logan didn't have a gym class at all. He was actually skipping a class right now, but it wasn't like his teacher would miss him anyway.

“Oh..” He stammered, looked down at the floor guiltily. “Do you know where S7 is？” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And.. wait. Why arent you in class.. oh.”

Logan sighed as he stood up. "Yeah, come on." He gestured for Virgil to follow him with a small shrug of a shoulder.

Virgil smiled. “Thank you, Logan.” He said softly, following behind him, glad that Logan would do this for him.

Logan shrugged as he began leading Virgil to his classroom. "Whatever," he muttered. Whatever it took to get himself his alone time in the gym. He doubted it would do Virgil's social reputation much good to see him with Logan, though.

“To be honest, that ass of a teacher really should be fired. What kind of creep just likes lesbians？” He tried to make small talk.

"Basically the entire American public does, actually." Logan was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but it wasn't like he was wrong, he thought.

“oh.. well.. thats..” Virgil sighed. “Why were you there alone instead of hanging out with friends？” He seemed rather done.

Logan glanced back at Virgil, although he didn't stop walking. "Because there are classes going on right now," Logan said. It was true, although Logan wasn't hanging out with friends because he didn't have any. He just wasn't going to tell Virgil that.

“Dont you have a badass like, gang？Like everyone says？” He tilted his head, very confused. “Oh.. are you.. uh..” He was genuinely confused.

"A gang?" Logan said in mild surprise and disbelief. That was seriously what people said about him? Logan guessed he underestimated his own reputation.

“Yeah. Also, apparently you dont like when people steal your role, so you are going to beat my ass. If you are, then I guess do it here.” He has no fear for death anymore. This school sucked any hope of caring out of him.

"What exactly do people say my role is then?" Logan hadn't intended on carrying on a conversation for this long, or really at all, but he couldn't help but be curious as to what people said about him.

He stared up at the sky, he really didnt want to say this. Dear god, please strike him with lighting. Oh, no lighting？F- “You’re the bad boy that all the girls swoon over. Apparently you’re soft and sweet on the inside.” He scoffed slightly. His defense is up.

Logan stiffened as he continued walking, gagging a little. That was it. It was official. Logan hated his reputation. He supposed he'd have to work harder on establishing his reputation as being stone cold and heartless. He wasn't going to stop picking fights with bigots though, he knew that much. "Well, here's your class," he said to Virgil, stopping in front of a classroom before immediately turning go back to the gym instead of the class he had that period.

“Thanks Logan.” He gave him a weak grin. “Logan Man, Fighting off bigots day after day.” He scoffed, before it turned to a light giggle, and Virgil went into class. What a dork. A nice dork.

Logan glanced back as he walked off, turning back after Virgil walked into class. As he neared the gym again, he glanced down at his left knuckles. After punching the wall, they became red and sore, and Logan was starting to regret punching the wall. His hand still stung.

This is why you dont start a war on walls, you idiot. Virgils class exprience was.. intresting. They made up rumors about him and Logan, and Virgil wanted to vomit. Love always made him feel weird and uncomfortable, but hes absolutely sure hes just gay.

Logan sat back down in the gym bleachers. He didn't know what he was doing back here instead of going to class. He guessed he pretty much didn't want to hear whatever his classmates would say about him. That was actually the first time he stormed out in the middle of class like that, and he assumed that was what people would be talking about right now.

They began to gossip about Logan having a girlfriend, boyfriend, and then him being in a gang. Now they all think Logans a fucking gang leader. Good luck talking to anyone, Logie.

After sitting in the gym with nothing to do for a while, Logan stood back up and headed to the band room. That was where he usually went when he wanted alone time, the gym had just been closer that time. As he walked down, he realized that being a musician probably contributed to people thinking he's "soft and sweet on the inside" but fuck it. Music is probably the reason he doesn't throw hands with every mildly unpleasant person in his vicinity.

Virgil cant stop laughing at the pure idiocity, wanting to just record this and send it to Logan... Eh, later. Once he befriends Logan. He nods to himself as the bell rung. Now he could go find Logan！And hang out with him！

Logan had just reached the band room by the time the bell rang. "God dammit," he said loudly. Now he'd have to choose between letting out some energy and missing another class. Logan sat down behind the drumset in the room, pulling out his phone and earbuds. He figured his teacher wouldn't miss him, and really, who cares if the teacher calls his house? Who gives a shit? Certainly not him. So he put on a pair of fingerless gloves he kept with him, turned on his music, and played along to American Idiot.

Virgil was going to class, but heard... music？He quietly walks towards the sounds, peering in. They had a music room？！ Logan plays music？！ He quietly attempted to sneak in, to be able to hear better. He ended up tripping into a guitar, miraculously not breaking it.

Most people would've heard Virgil tripping as he snuck in, but not only was Logan listening to really loud music, but he was also playing a really loud instrument. But really, neither of those things meant much, because Logan was in The Zone. It would take a lot to break his focus.

Virgil was extremely impressed. Logan really was in the mood. He sat on the floor, just admiring the music.

Logan looked up once the song had ended, quickly pulling out his earbuds and jolting upwards once he saw Virgil sitting there. "What the hell are you doing here?"

“...Uhhhhh, I thought this was the cafeteria？Nice pl-playing.” He quickly stood up, immediately smackin into a cupboard and just sighing softly.

"Of course this isn't the fucking cafeteria, do you see any tabl-" Logan went quiet for a moment when he saw the knocked over guitar. He practically threw himself over the drumset as he ran to check on the guitar, because despite the fact that the school technically owned all of the instruments, that was Logan's Guitar. "The fuck did you do?!" Logan shouted as he checked the guitar over for any damage.

He quickly stood up. “See-ing a-as this isnt the cafeteria, I-I’m going to-” He began to speed for thr door.

Logan looked back up once he was sure his guitar was alright. Once he saw Virgil heading for the door, it occurred to him what he had just done. "I, I didn't mean to snap," he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head as he looked away from Virgil. This new body language was a complete change from how he usually acts.

Virgil paused, reluctantly rubbing the back of his neck. “U-Uh, oh, ok-okay. I’m.. I’m sorry. You.. You clearly werent..” All words just seemed to die in his mouth.

Logan sighed as he stood back up. "Whatever, just, try not to knock any instruments over, okay?" Logan mumbled as he began walking past Virgil out the door. Okay, so he didn't mumble, but compared to how clearly he normally speaks he might as well have been.

"Thank you, L-Logan." He stammered. He didnt move, just awkwardly standing there. "O-Oh, uh, of course.. Uh, can I sit with you at lunch?" He managed through jumbled stammering.

Logan glanced back at Virgil as he walked out, trying to understand the logic of wanting to be around somebody who just yelled at you for something that wasn't intentional. Logan was hoping it wasn't anything like Logan being nice, because if Logan was the nicest person Virgil knew, well that's just sad. "Sure, whatever." Logan shrugged. He didn't actually know if he was actually going to stay until lunch, since he had been planning on leaving for the rest of the day. He shrugged at himself as he left the band room. Logan supposed he'd find out by lunch.

Virgil just followed after him, quietly. Hey, Logans the nicest guy here at this hell hole of a school, Well, the nicest guy he has met. He looks around, feeling awkward. Oh god. Why is he bothering Logan. He doesnt want you here. Just leave. "Uh-"

Logan attempted to continue walking as normal, despite the ever present awareness of Virgil following him. After all, by the looks of this kid, he's definitely harmless. Although after a while it became hard to ignore the little lost puppy of Virgil. "What are you following me for?" Logan asked over his shoulder. "Don't you have a class or something?" Honestly, how is anyone supposed to let out some steam when someone is following them everywhere?

Virgil flinched. "uh.. yeah.. sure.." He mumbled, and he quickly left. He didnt know why he cared so much. Oh wait, yes he did. Because he wanted Logan's friend. Why? Because he found Logan cool.

Logan sighed once Virgil left. He didn't really know why. Was he disappointed? Logan actually thought he might be. That was probably the longest anyone had ever voluntarily been around him, after all. Either way, Logan still had no idea what to do at this point, especially considering that if he left before school ended he'd definitely have to deal with the consequences soon enough.

Virgil headed off into the bathroom. He just needed somewhere to stay calm, and clear his head. Everything just made him feel horrible. He quietly locked himself into a stall, keeping himself quiet.

Logan leaned against a wall in the hallway, getting out his phone as he debated his options. If he left school now, Virgil wouldn't have to worry about his mistake of wanting to be around him during lunch, but his mom would be pissed if she found out he didn't even stay half of the day. But if he stayed and went to class, he'd half a lot of pent up anger with him during class, and his home had probably already been called due to him not having made it to this class period, so he'd still probably hear about it anyway.

Virgil calmed himself down, and went back outside. He looked around, wondering if Logan was still around. He.. He hoped so. He is not going to that hell hole alone.

Logan sighed as he put his phone away, finally heading to class. He was pretty sure that it was the world's most stupid desicion for Virgil to want to be anywhere near him, but as a new kid who clearly had no idea how to survive in this school, he probably wouldn't be very safe if he was alone during lunch.

Virgil quietly sighed, deciding to go to class. He hid his eyes with his hair. He slunk into the back of the class, trying to keep away from everyone.

Logan managed to keep himself from throwing hands for the rest of his morning class, heading down to the lunchroom afterwards. He stood against a wall and watched people enter without personally eating.

Once that hellish excuse for a class was done, Virgil quietly found Logan and walked up to him. “Uh, hi.”

Logan looked over at Virgil, honestly kind of surprised that he committed to his decision to spend the lunch period with Logan. "Hey," he said briefly, looking back across the room.

He gave him a pathetic grin, trying to not be awkward, but the boy radiates awkward. “Uh, uhm, er, hi.” He began to play with his hands, biting his lip.

"You don't talk to people much, do you?" Logam didn't look back at Virgil as he spoke. Was he hoping Virgil would decide Logan actually was unpleasant to be around and leave? Yeah, Logan thought he was.

“N-Not really.” He mumbled, not moving, copying Logans pose. He wasnt exactly enjoying the people staring at him, but hes happy having a friend.

Logan's surprise grew as Virgil started copying him. He didn't know why, but that was really unexpected. "Aren't you going to eat or something?" Logan was determined to not let his surprise, or really any other emotion, show.

Virgil shook his head, deciding a verbal response wasnt worth it. Plus, the food looked like slop. He fidgetted with his hands, trying to spark a conversation.

Logan glanced over at Virgil, trying to figure out what to do in this situation. God, this kid is making me more awkward just by being around me. It's a wonder he's survived this long.

Virgil thought about his family. His family sucked. It would be nice to know what raised that hardcore lad. “Uh... Whats your family like？” He said softly. God fUcking damn it, Virgil. You cant ask about anything N O RM A L-

The change in Logan's posture was immediate. His back straightened, his shoulders became more squared, his hands tightened into fists. "Why do you care?" Logan's voice was cold and hard as knives.

Virgil shrunk back, his eyes wide. “I-I dont know？I’m just trying to make conversations..” He trailed off, going silent. Wait. Why was Logan caring so much. “Oh god, are you an orp-”

Logan scoffed at that second comment, giving Virgil the slightest shake of his head and somehow managing to make those small actions violent and angry. I wish I was that lucky.

Virgil flinched. He felt his heart race at those angry movements. “Uh, er.. sorry.” Virgil practically sped off, he feels sick.

Logan turned and watched him go. If he were in any other mood, he'd probably feel bad for scaring Virgil like that. But right now he didn't even care, he simply turned back to glare at the rest of the people in the room.

The whispers of the room continued, questioning Logan and why he doesnt like his family

Logan didn't say anything to anyone, although when he heard someone talking about him he'd shoot a glare at them to get them to shut up.

The cafeteria was awkward and quiet. Nobody wanted to talk to Logan, or get beaten up.

Eventually Logan got tired of the stares and went back to the gym. He would've went to the band room, but there was a class there at the time, so he had to go with the next best thing.

Virgil was sitting behind the bleachers, desperately trying to calm himself. Logan hates him. Everyone hates him. He hates this hell-hole of a school.

Logan didn't notice Virgil as he came in, walking over to a padded part of the wall so he could punch it and not hurt himself again. He punched the wall, then drew his hand back and punched again, and again, and again. He hated his mother. He hated every single boyfriend she had ever had. He hated this school. He hated that he was always alone. He hated that this one time somebody actually wanted to be around him, he was determined to scare them off. He hated everything right now.

The punches just terrified Virgil even more. Oh great. Now a murderer was after him. He let out a strangled gasp, as his world began to spin round, making Virgil shake.

Logan paused when he heard the gasp behind him. He turned and finally noticed Virgil behind him, and of course it was only after he started panicking. Logan stood there, trying to figure out if he should go try to help, considering he was probably the thing causing Virgil to panic and being closer might just make it worse.

He couldnt breathe. The gasps became more frequent. Fuck. Hes gonna die here. Hes gonna die alone. Jesus this is getting sad.

Soon enough, Logan decided on walking over, kneeling down in front of Virgil. It wasn't like he was getting any better without Logan interacting. "Hey, Virgil?" Logan started in the most even voice he could produce. "I'm gonna need you to calm down, can you do that? Just focus on breathing." Fuck, is this what you're supposed to do? Logan honestly didn't have a clue, but from what he did know about panic attacks this seemed like an appropriate response.

Virgil trembles, before his blood stopped. Logan. “I-I’m sorry！I’m sorry！I-I-I-I...” He hears that Logans hear to help. “I-I cant- I-I’m a failure！”

Upon hearing Virgil's words, Logan's hands curled into fists. He was immediately ready to fight on behalf of someone he didn't even know. Then Logan reminded himself that right now, fighting was not in fact going to help. He took a deep breath, forcing his hands to relax again before continuing to talk to Virgil. "No, you're not a failure, there's no need to be sorry." Logan slowly reached out and took one of Virgil's hands in his own, checking for his reaction.

Virgil jolted, scramming away, apologizing. “I said- I said sorry！P-Please.. Leave me alone.” He sobbed. “I-I-I-” He felt his throat constrict.

Logan quickly pulled his hands away from Virgil, feeling guilt like a stab in his gut. This was all because of him, wasn't it? Maybe he should just leave, Virgil did tell Logan to leave him alone, didn't he? And Logan was pretty sure he just made it worse because he had no idea how to help, so Virgil would probably be better off if Logan left him alone.

Virgil whimpers, god hes so pathetic. Such a useless person. “Pathetic.. Useless..” He mumbled softly, looking away from Logan. The attack was beginning to die down, but he wouldnt be calm for a while.

Logan opened his mouth, about to correct Virgil on what he was saying about himself, but then he hesitated, and soon closed his mouth again. Logan looked down at the floor as he slowly stood back up and left, his endgoal being the doors leading out of the school. Logan officially decided he was done with being around people for a good while. Logan easily ignored the stares of the people in the halls. Most people took one look at Logan's overall demeanor and knew not to stare, so Logan was able to get out the school doors without even being interuppted.

Virgil made sure to keep close to Logan. He felt so guilty, he can’t believe he was so stupid. He had to have Logan come help him from a panic attack！All he is, is a panicky, clingy, failure.

Logan sighed and turned around as he got outside the door, facing Virgil. "Don't you have something better to do? Like class or something?" Logan was trying not to snap, especially since Virgil had just gotten out of a panic attack, but his voice was still harsh. Logan just wanted an escape from people, and now this little lost puppy of a person was becoming the first and only obstacle to that.

He kept his mouth shut. He felt so awkward. Like he owed Logan and apology. For seeing that. For seeing how much of a mess he was.. Yeah, he left soon after Logan spoke.

Logan walked away from the school after that, although he didn't really know where he was going. All he really knew at the time was that he wanted to escape from people, despite the fact that he didn't know where he could go that didn't have people. Logan ended up going over to the park, deciding that the park would have the least amount of people. After a while Logan had calmed down enough to tolerate human connection again, and walked down to the local café, because despite its black color, the fabric of Logan's jacket did little to protect him from the cold. He almost smiled as he walked through the door of the café, looking at the pride flag sticker on the window. Logan sat down in a booth, although since he was a regular the staff weren't expecting him to order anything.

Virgil was nervous. He had gotten lost on his way home, and was walking down to a cafe. He was hungry, after all. He looked at his phone, cringing at its dead battery. But he managed to smile. Today started off great, at least. Logan was.. his friend？Well, he seemed to begin to tolerate Virgil. And hes fine with that. He ordered a cup with a long list of ingredients. His own list of “Fuck me up” ingredients.

Logan didn't notice Virgil walking in. He had started dozing off in his seat when a waiter walked over, giving him a plate of eggs and toast. "It's on the house. You look like you could use it," they said with a smile as they left the table. They were right about that; Logan hadn't eaten all day. Logan glanced back over, guilt weighing down his shoulders as he began eating. He glanced over at his phone as he ate. The only reason it wasn't dead was because he was at the table with the outlet. That was basically His Table and both the visitors and staff knew this. Once Logan finished eating, he put his head atop his hand and began dozing off again. The poor kid hadn't slept well in ages.

The waitress did NOT look happy that Virgil had such a long list, but, he paid and ordered it, so she had to. When he asked for an outlet seat, he was pointed into Satan- I mean, Logans direction. “Oh, hi Logan.” Virgil said softly, holding his head phone.

Logan was partially asleep at the time, although he had trained himself to not fall asleep entirely, so when he heard his name he was immediately awake and alert. He put his arm down on the table as he looked at Virgil. "Hey," he said shortly, realizing that this was the kid from school, which meant school was over. Logan hadn't really been paying attention.

“Uh, Uhmm...” He felt really awakward.. Was there any other outlet booths？Logan looked like he would murder Virgil if he sat there.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, drumming his fingers against the table. Honestly, if there was anywhere that he was least likely to murder someone, it was that café. It was quite honestly the most comfortable place he had ever been in, and he wasn't about to throw that away by getting into a fight.

Virgil looked away. They say, if you look Logan in the eye, you’ll turn into stone. “Sorry. I’ll just take the bus.” Yes. The bus. That he has no.clue about. Tbh, If I were Virgil？I’d rather walk.

Logan stared at Virgil. What the hell was he talking about? "We don't have a bus." Did Virgil just move here? Also why was he talking about a bus inside a café? What the hell was his train of thought?

Transfer student. Yes, he did just move here. Thats.. Thats kinda why he wasnt as fearful of Logan. ”Oh.” He said simply. “Fu-”

Logan sighed in confusion as he looked away from Virgil, bringing up his hand again to set his head on and closing his eyes. He didn't have any sort of obligation to interact with Virgil, so if he wasn't going to actually say anything then Logan was going to try to stock up on light sleep.

“ck.” He sighed. He awkwardly shuffled into the booth, just wanting to charge his phone, man.

Logan opened his eyes again, having expected Virgil to just stand awkwardly or leave. He glanced at the coffee Virgil had as he sat down, reading the ingredient label. "That's incredibly unhealthy for you." Logan didn't know why he was starting conversation when he could be sleeping, but he was aware of how much Virgil's coffee could fuck someone up.

“Eh. Nobody really cares.” He took a sip, waiting for his phone to do him a favour and charge. One percent, and the most aggressive spam of messages blasts through his phone. “Oh. I’m popular today.” He muttered. Of course, his parents had guests today. They had to pretend they cared.

Logan watched the phone screen as the messages showed up on the screen. Honestly he was pretty surprised by the spam, he barely ever got any messages, and he definitely didn't remember the last time his mom texted him. She generally saved her barrage of harassment for when they were face-to-face. He genuinely didn't think whatever the messages were about could be good.

They werent. They were degrading messages about his intelligence. “Ah！My mom.. uh, says that.. I gotta go.. God, shes so kind.” He made a convincing act. “See you, Punk.” He gave him a pathethically weak smile. He had no way home. Sadness hours.

Logan didn't believe the act for a second. Everything he read on that screen were things he could practically hear his mother saying to him, and "kind" wasn't even the last word he'd use to describe her. Nonetheless, he understood the need to get home. Logan sighed at the smile. Honestly it was kind of sad. "You don't know where you're going, do you?" Logan asked, deadpan. Seeing how lost Virgil was in school, the entire town probably seemed like an actual maze to him.

Virgil flinched at the deadpan tone. “Ah, well, uhrm, yeah..” He muttered, allowing his bangs to cover his eyes. “I’ll find my way home, I dont need a gang member to escort me.” He muttered, a bit of a bitter tone in his voice. He doesnt know why he said that. Maybe to drive Logan away？But he adored Logan！Logan was so cool.. God damn, you stalker, stop thinking about him！ “...sorry.” He muttered, getting up.

Logan sighed and looked away. Gang member. Is that really how people saw him? He only meant to scare off jerks and bigots, and he honestly wanted to be supportive of basically anyone who got picked on or bullied. Apparently those people couldn't trust him either. He knew he couldn't be surprised though, nobody in their right mind would trust somebody who got so angry they had to punch a wall to feel just a little better. "Whatever," Logan muttered. "I just hope you know that everyone's gonna assume you're queer now." Logan jabbed a finger towards the pride flag sticker he had looked at on the way in.

The look of sheer terror as he saw the said flag was hilarious. He had tried his best to act like a straight guy. “I’m straight.” He mumbled. “Uhm, are you gay, Logan？”

Logan almost laughed at what was to him an obvious lie. Almost. "I think I'm as straight as you are." Straight as a rainbow, that is.

Virgil looked afraid. But then again, when hes with Logan... Wait. Beforehand, Virgil wasnt scared or worried. Aww！You turned someone who, rather blindly, trusted you, against you！But isnt that what you do best, Logan？

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roleplay #logan sanders #virgil sanders #punk logan #pastel virgil #tw fighting #tw swearing #tw violence #tw verbal abuse #tw emotional abuse #verbal abuse #emotional abuse #tw homophobia #TW panic attack

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fuck-customers · 5 years

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How does he still have a job?

So I'll start by saying I like my job for the most part like yea there are times it pisses me off but I think that's every job even if you love it. But there is this one guy at my job that frankly I have NO CLUE how this guy, we'll call him "Jimmy", still has a job! What does he do might you ask? Better question is what doesn't he? 1) He is openly condescending and rude to other workers (and even some times customers.) at the drop of a hat. a good example of this happened about a week ago, a coworker of mine sold some people an extra ticket they didn't need (the people buying them didn't even notice.). NOT a big deal, they can easily come back to the front desk and we can give hem the money back at ANYTIME that day. Well "Jimmy" felt the need to make this known to not only the person who made this mall mistake but also known to EVERYONE at our work within ear shot of a radio by loudly and very condescendingly barks into the radio "UHM??? [Name of guy who sold the ticket's]?? You sold these people a ticket they didn't need! They need FIVE tickets, NOT six [NAME]. They are going to look around and when they are done I'm going to send them back down to you, you are GOING TO get them a manager, you are GOING to get them their money back for that extra ticket that you sold them, and you are GOING TO tell them sorry about this [NAME]. Be more careful next time!" I honestly wish I was kidding, the poor guy selling tickets was mortified at how much "Jimmy" blew up this tiny mistake. Keep in mind this isn't the first time he's done something like this either this is just the newest time he's done it. To be fair he was swiftly talked to about it and forced to say sorry, not that it makes up for it. 2) He touches people... a LOT. This is a BIG one, caz when I say he touches people I me even if you tell him to stop he will keep doing it. We have about 35 people in our department and only 3 of them are "comfortable" working with him, everyone else WILL and does ask to not work with him if they know he's their that day. It doesn't stop him from coming and bothering them and touching them but it lessens it. Only thing that stops it is getting openly very angry with him or involving management and both of those only keep him away like a week at most. What kind of touching? Touching peoples faces, rubbing their shoulders, rubbing their backs, grabbing their hands, arms, hair, putting his arms around their shoulders, waists, hips, forcing hugs on people and not letting them go, pulling on their clothes, etc, etc. The dude will NOT keep his hands to himself.

3) The VERY inappropriate jokes. Now I think everyone has let a bad joke slip but this guy has nothing but bad jokes. He's made every kind of bad joke at work you can think of! Black joke, pedo jokes, rape jokes, sexual jokes, slavery jokes, killing babies/kids, making jokes about someones family member/pet dying, joking about people dying of cancer, etc. Not only to other workers but COSTUMERS while on shift and in uniform. Some of these jokes are SO bad that managers wouldn't even repeat them or wanted to write them down (I'm good friends with a manager outside of work and asked if it was really THAT bad of a joke, she loves dark jokes and she wouldn't even repeat it.) These have been stopped for the most part I think? Hopefully? 4) Has been openly homophobic and shoves religion down everyone's throat, the homophobic stuff has been stopped by management as far as I know but he still tries to force religion on people as much as he can. 5) This kind of goes with #4 as he has given female coworkers shit for having short hair duo to it makes them look like a "lesbian", makes them look like a boy, or isn't how girls are "intended to look" whatever that means. Managers have gotten this to stop from what I know though he does still make comments about "Oh you got your hair cut, a little short, huh? Is that really how short you asked for or was that them messing up?" every now and then if he sees one of the girls at work has cut her hair short or gotten it trimmed when it was growing out to much. 6) Has openly mocked people with disabilities, enough said there. 7) We have a gift shop and have a few toy demos we're allowed to show off how thy work and and play with, one of these is an "airzooka" which if you're not sure what that is it's pretty much just a little canon that shoots puffs of air at people and is pretty much harmless... Unless you're "Jimmy" that is. Jimmy has gotten the airzooka taken away from the demo area I believe twice now. the first time was for shooting puffs of air at him older man who nicely asked him to stop the FIRST time he did it but after doing it over and over for 5 whole minutes and wouldn't leave the guy alone a manager had to be called and it was taken away. The next time was for running around the store chasing kids with it and shooting at puffs at them, which was fine up till he wouldn't leave the kids alone and the mother got creeped out when he kept following her kids, I'm not 100% sure what all the details are on that one but he's not allowed to run around with little kids anymore. 8) He doesn't wash his hands. And yea ew, that's REALLY gross but it's even worse when you know we have a small food area and he doesn't wash his hands even after going to the bathroom and has to be told to when he gets back to the food area. This from what I know isn't all the time but it's enough to have been noticed. Nasty af. 9) He eats food off the floor and out of trash cans... In front of costumers. He's been asked if he has food at home or needs help getting food and he told management "No, I have plenty of food? I just don't think wasting food should be allowed."

10) On top of all of this, you would THINK "Oh well, he must at LEAST be a good worker and that's why they keep him on, right??" Nope. This guy doesn't do shit and honestly if anything makes other people's jobs harder.

I could go on but I think everyone get's the picture here, how this guy still has a job is beyond me! From what we all know he has no mental disabilities (Which would excuse SOME stuff but not all and still wouldn't make any of it ok.) management has check in on it to see and be sure so he really doesn't have an excuse for why he acts like this or why the hell he still ha a job here when he's talked to ALL THE TIME and no one will work with him willingly since he makes everyone so uncomfortable. I mean we're WAY past the three strikes and you're out rule here, you now? I'm just hoping he doesn't end up hurting someone, triggering someones PTSD, or making them sick not washing his hands.

#tw #trigger warning #submissions #fuck co-workers #embarrassing #fuck coworkers #submission

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moonguilt · 5 years

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random klance and adashi headcanons? 🥺🤲

i have been meaning to put some grocery shopping headcanons out there… so here u go (plenty more beneath the cut as well):

-when keith and lance are falling in love and in their honeymoon phase with each other, they jump at the opportunity to go grocery shopping together because a) they wanna spend every moment with each other, and b) it’s domestic af and it makes them feel like they Have Something

-once they’ve been together a while, the novelty wears off and the laziness kicks in and they both try to find increasingly ridiculous ways to get the other person to go shopping without them

-keith usually goes for willful/feigned ignorance: “what kind of toothpaste did you say you wanted?” like 4 separate times, and then “idk they all look the same to me, i usually just grab whatever” and when lance inevitably goes on a tirade about the importance of his Very Specific brand and flavor, keith concludes with a “maybe you should buy it in person if you want to be sure you get the right one”

-lance’s tactic neglects logos and instead relies on pathos: “keeeith i am so tired” “keeeith my toes are still so cold from the walk home” “i promise i’ll go next time keith pleeeaase kosmo is in my lap and he’s so comfy look at him keith look. we are having a bonding moment keith dont interrupt us”

-when lance REALLY wants something Very Specific and is genuinely worried that keith will mess it up, he will give in to keith’s strategy and just go shopping himself, but 90% of the time keith is a Weak man and lance always gives him a big toothy grin and a kiss whenever he agrees so honestly you can’t blame him

-also it gives him a chance to restock his emergency midnight snack lunchables stash without lance giving him the “you are a grown man and my mamá gave me so many good recipes for us to try out and yet you choose to bring this under our roof” lecture (even though keith is sure that he bought 5 packs last time and only ate 3 of them but now their pantry is mysteriously devoid of lunchables, which means somebody in this house is lying about their disdain for lunchables)

-but ANYWAY sometimes they still actually do go to the store together just like old times and when they do:

-taking turns doing the thing where you run and put your weight on the back of the shopping cart and let it glide-(getting caught doing exactly that by an employee and being told off for it after they nearly knock over a chef boyardee can display)

-choosing an item on the list that they have no idea where to find & racing each other to see who can find it first

-“do you see this toothpaste keith. do you see this? can you see the name? can you read the flavor? you see how it says ‘for sensitive teeth’? do you see it?”-“considering you are practically shoving it down my throat, yes.”-“well then maybe your esophagus will be able to remember it for you next time you go shopping”

-keith grabbing the last pack of rainbow gold fish bc they are his favorite-toddler wanted those goldfish & starts crying-”ah shit fuck hey hey hey uhhh” cue keith turning a desperate look toward lance bc he Does Not Know how tf to handle small crying child-lance is like “dude, baby, sweetheart, my man, just give him the goldfish we can get the regular ones”-but keiths like?? bitch?? i got these first?? also im gay and these are my pride fish?? dont be homophobic-lance is about to argue with him abt it but then the kid’s mom gets involved and is like “how could you make my baby cry he’s just a kid let him have his goldfish dont be selfish”-you’ve activated Protective Lance mode-“um okay first of all, rude, keith got them first. second of all, this isnt even healthy for your kid. THIRD of all these are rainbow colored and keith is gay so maybe dont be homophobic??”-things escalate and keith and lance nearly throw down with karen and little jimmy in the snack aisle-they savor every last one of those fucking rainbow goldfish later that night, just out of pure gay spite

-lance spending several minutes inspecting individual broccoli stalks meticulously to make sure they buy only the very best-he narrows it down to two but keeps debating between them until keith comes up behind him and slumps against his back, wrapping his arms around lance’s waist and muttering something about how cold the produce aisle is-lance makes a snarky comment about keith being a whiny baby & keith retaliates by slipping his freezing fingers under lance’s shirt, prompting a startled yelp and giving keith the opportunity to pluck a broccoli stalk from lance’s hand and put it in the cart

-“okay, while we’re here, let’s grab a cucumber for the salad”-“gotcha, one cucumber coming right up–.. hey.. hey, keith, this one kinda looks like a–hehehe–hey keith, do you think i could–hnnkeehehe–do you think i could fit this one up–”-“oh my god”-“what do you say keith–you, me, this cucumber, a bottle of wine–”-“alright im getting on line.”-“wait wait babe im kidding come back let me put the cucumber in the cart”-“NO go get a different one, i am NOT letting that one anywhere near our salad”

-selfies with the local Stop & Shop robot. lance thinks it’s kind of creepy but keith thinks it’s cute and lance thinks that’s cute, so

-“lance we left the reusable bags in the car”-“quiznak. well that’s okay, we can just use plastic bags this one time and i’ll make sure we put them to good use at home so it’s not wastefu–”-“no. we paid money for our bags. we have to use them. i’ll be right back”-“keith we parked way down on the other side of the–oh my god KEITH WATCH OUT FOR THAT OLD LADY holy shit SLOW DOWN oh my god man”

-keith tries to sneak those storebought sugar cookies, you know the clear-boxed ones that they always put out front with holiday-colored frosting and sprinkles, into their cart-“keith what is with your obsession with processed food”-“it was all had to eat when i was living alone in the desert”---“baby that is very sad and you know i empathize with your tragic anime backstory but put those godawful abominations back or so help me”

-only, keith isn’t the only one who likes processed food

-yeah, another reason keith is so used to it is because even after he started living with shiro, he kept eating that junk because that’s all shiro ever ate too

-shiro is a slut for kraft mac & cheese

-this presents a problem for him and adam, because adam loves spicy food and loves to make spicy food for shiro to eat

-but shiro is a big baby, and due to his inability to cook and his subsequent reliance on kraft & campbell’s & top ramen, he basically has white people taste buds

-adam is scandalized when he learns this the hard way after finding shiro nearly in tears over his half-eaten serving of dum aloo

-adam promptly declares that shiro needs a culinary intervention and they have been working towards the recovery of his palate ever since

-shiro is a creature of habit though, and he will try to convince adam to let them buy kraft mac & cheese whenever they go to the store together (which is often because unlike keith and lance, they never got tired of it and they still consider it a romantic domestic activity to this day. they’re just gay like that)

-when keith and shiro have their “broganights” together they indulge in all their crappy processed comfort food, much to the consternation of lance and adam, who bond over their shared exasperation and begrudging affection for their respective partners

#klance #adashi #thank u for the ask i had fun with this hehe #sorry the klance ones are more extensive... i have a bit of a bias in case u havent noticed #headcanon #domestic #lavender letters #ask

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tazzytypes · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 1

EDIT (6/10/2020): I know this is unprofessional as hell, but I added more because the ending didn’t sit right with me. Was too excited too hurry up and post and forgot there was a reason I plotted things out in a certain way. Hope you all can forgive me.

Finally! Chapter 1! I hope you guys enjoy it. I loved reading your comments and every kudos made me more excited to keep writing. Also, I apologize for the weird spacing throughout the post. I had to copy it from scrivener to AO3 to here and it just made things messy, but it’s 1AM rn and I’m tired.

Read on AO3 or Fanfiction.net!

click here for: Prologue |

Emily shifted in her seat, head rebelling after spending a week in the dim light of candles which cast everything in an orange hue and made the shadows dance on the walls. Even her large circular glasses did nothing to ease her sight… it was a wonder she wasn’t already legally blind. Either way, she had the mother of all headaches.

The constant fires always left E uncomfortably hot and the layers upon layers they were forced to dress didn’t help. First thing the wardens did when they arrived was strip her down and burn every shred of fabric… her favorite shirt nothing but ash. Clothing standards were non-negotiable. Evening wear on the left side of the armoire. Don’t mistake it for your daily clothes or you won’t receive dinner. Cocktails before-hand at 6:30 sharp. Lucky for Emily, she was always early for everything and had yet to find out what the punishment was for that particular faux-pas. She wished nothing but to grab the t-shirt and shorts she had arrived in just to find some relief.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Her mother had always told her.

At first, she had been relieved when the others arrived. Now she had to wonder if she would have been better off on her own… the supplies she had counted in storage would certainly have lasted longer. Small little cubes with all the nutrients they needed. They probably would have been better with non-perishables, but she doubted the wardens would risk a venture outside to hunt for some… not like they would be able to eat it, anyway.

Another stabbing pain pulsed at her temples, hands going to smooth it out as she listened to the chattering around her that sounded more like white noise than coherent sentences. Waiting out the apocalypse in solidarity would have driven her insane, humans being the social creatures they were. However, she doubted any of them would survive the end of the world with their sanity intact.

Not that one could guess it was the end of the world by the conversations of her fellow residents, most of them rich and most of the snobby. Gallant and Coco were thick as thieves… their personalities almost comically matching that of Regina George from Mean Girls. Evie, Gallant’s washed-up film star of a grandmother was almost repulsively republican — so homophobic and racist that most of the residents hoped she’d have a heart attack and die. The Stevens, a mother and son pair along with the son’s boyfriend, were tolerable. Andre liked to throw shade, but he was balanced by his witty counterpart, Stu.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she thought of their earlier conversation.

“It’s like Satan’s Spotify playlist,” Stu had joked in response to Gallants endless complaining, making Andre nearly choke on the water he had been drinking.

“For the amount of times I’ve been told I’m in league with the devil, I’d have expected him to have better taste.” Emily had joked in return.

Stu laughed and Andre only sighed, “don’t even get me started on the clothes.”

“Well at least you don’t have to wear a corset,” Coco had snipped, hand going up to pat at her hair in an attempt to keep it in place.

Emily tugged at her own, something poking her in her stomach, “These are not historically accurate.”

“Let me guess,” Stu said, gesturing to her glasses, “history major?”

“Insomniac.”

The pounding returned to her head and she leaned on the table, pressing at her temples with the hope of some relief. Maybe she could ask a Grey to get her some ice… she doubted Venable had a stash of ibuprofen in the reserves.

It had been 14 days since they had gotten here. 3 of which she had spent on her own, wandering the halls with a candelabra like a damsel from a Victorian novel. She tugged at the high collar of her shirt. Whoever designed this hole in the ground was determined to have them living in a corset-laced wet dream.

“Are you okay?” The girl beside her asked, a gentle hand placed on Emily’s arm. She had just arrived at the outpost, 2 weeks after the bombs dropped, with a boy around the same age. They had barely been able to introduce themselves before Venable cut in, ringing a bell obnoxiously to usher them to dinner.

The few words the pair had said still haunted her.

“It’s all gone,” The brown-haired boy had told them at Gallant’s insistence, lips pressed into a thin line as he tried not the let the emotions that came with those words to overwhelm him.

“Everything,” The girl echoed, voice hollow.

Gallant fell back as if he had been shot, panic threatening to overtake his lungs after it was done squeezing the life out of his heart.

“What…” Emily had stuttered out, trying to calm herself, “What did it look like?”

Andre’s voice had cracked and spat out like venom, “who cares about what it looks like?”

Stu had placed a hand on his lover's shoulder. His brows were furrowed and there was a slight shake that came over his body. Andre curled into him, Stu wrapping his arms around him as if he could somehow shield the man from the world.

Her anxiety spread through her like a wildfire, the attempted facade of strength cracking, “It matters because it could tell us how fucked we are!”

“We’re well past fucked!” Coco had snapped.

The girl with ebony hair focused on Emily, eyes welling with emotion she all too well understood.

“No sun…” She said, forcing the words from her mouth, “just green… smog.”

“Does that mean anything to you?” Stu had asked her, eyes betraying his own fears.

“Hiroshima happened in the… 50s? Chernobyl happened in the 80s,” Emily began to say, too in her thoughts to notice the side-eyed stares of her companions, “and that was still radioactive before it was radioactive… again.”

The comment seemed to stir something in the new girl’s head, “I heard about that… people were able to take trips last year… once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Coco scoffed, “so is dying.”

“Wait, so like… this can go away?” Gallant asked.

The girl looked to Emily, “People were living on Hiroshima before all this.”

“Possibly,” Emily mused, “Then again, we’d have to multiply that incident by… well, a lot.”

“We’d have to find out where and how many bombs were dropped.” The girl added, “as well as the area affected by it.”

Coco frowned, still more focused on her hair than the literal end of the world, “could you stop talking like that? You’re seriously freaking me out.”

“We’re all freaking out,” Dinah snipped.

“Just tired,” Emily reassured the girl, leaning back in her chair. She realized she had yet to ask the girl her name, but the Grey’s entered with their meal before she could — one Grey for each purple at the table. The large black plates were almost amusingly large in comparison to the singular small cube that sat at its center.

A full table-set was spread out before them, silver soup spoons, teaspoons, knives, and a salad fork mocking them every day. They stood out against the dark wood and reminded them that they were doomed to a life of tasteless jello for the rest of their lives. Emily finally understood how her pets felt, fed the same food day in and day out… at least she had bothered to change up the flavor. Her body rebelled against her after the third day, gagging whenever she brought the cube anywhere near her mouth. A few days of starvation quickly rectified the situation and greatly amused her jailer who was all too happy to put the food back from whence it came.

Venable chose the seating arrangements, naturally. Emily was sat beside the two new arrivals, positioned as far from the woman as possible. It was an arrangement neither of them minded. Emily didn’t hold her tongue in moments such as these and she didn’t like placing her wellbeing in the hands of another. Venable expected complete and total control over her residents, enforcing strict standards of order that were almost as tight as her hair, tightly pulled together in a double french twist at the back of her head. Emily was the stray hair that wouldn’t lay flat no matter what she did.

The new arrivals stared at their plates as the Greys placed the cubes before them, sending each other confused glances and waiting to see what the rest of them did. It hardly looked appetizing, brown and having a texture reminiscent of a health-nut’s chia-seed protein bar.

Emily poked at her own food for good measure, feeling her throat clench at the mere thought of eating again. It didn’t listen no matter how many times she tried to reason with it. You’d think the body would behave and finally realize that this was as good as things would get.

Gallant turned towards the girl to his left, “Don’t be too disappointed.”

“Darling,” Evie sighed from the other side of the table, spreading a napkin across her lap, “You don’t know what disappointment is until you’ve slept with Yul Brynner.”

The mere thought of the old woman having sex was enough to make Emily’s lips curl in disgust… maybe she didn’t need to eat after all. For once Dinah was amused by the old crone, chuckling as she cut apart her cube like it was a five-course meal instead of the science project of Elon Musk.

“I want to die,” She could hear Gallant mutter a few seats over, head in his hands as he contemplated his decision to bring his nana along on whatever this adventure was.

Dinah was quick to explain the cubes to the new pair, “The cube on your plate contains every vitamin our body needs…”

Across from Emily, Coco ungracefully shoved the entire cube into her mouth with one fell swoop, cheeks puffing out. Dinah continued to speak, pretending to have not seen Coco, words coming out rushed, “…or so they tell us.”

“Whether or not it aids in our caloric intake is up in the air,” Emily added, following the woman’s lead and gently cutting into the cube.

“The fewer calories the better!” Evie proclaimed from down the table, waving her fork in the air to accentuate her statement.

“Until you become a skeleton.”

Emily had learned from Dinah’s example to take small bites, savor it. She hoped it would fool her body into thinking it was eating more. Either way, her stomach still growled and she was grateful to her handler for taking her to Chick-Fil-A on their way to the Outpost. The mere thought of that last meal made her mouth water.

Coco’s silverware clattered onto her plate as she closed her eyes and whined, “I’m still hungry… I am so tired of the hunger.”

A fist to the table made Emily jump, dropping her own silverware in turn. The girl next to her looked to the other residents as Coco stood up abruptly, letting her chair screech against the floor as it was thrown back. She looked to Emily and all she could do was offer a half-hearted shrug that said, “same shit as usual.”

… God, she missed John Mulaney.

“Fuck! This! Bullshit!” Coco continued, “With all the thought that went into this they don’t have a single bag of Pirate’s Booty in the pantry?”

Evie sat back as if watching a soap opera while the rest of the residents braced themselves for another tantrum. Coco raved on, unaware of the sudden looming figures coming up behind her, “For a hundred million dollars a ticket, I expect goddamn Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen cooking us real food!”

Then she stopped, a tap of a cane on the floor signaling the arrival of Venable, Miss Mead on her heels like an obedient dog. They braced themselves for another, self riotous lecture on appreciating what they had as if none of them mourned for what was. Slowly, head bowed and aware of her impending doom, Coco turned.

The slap rang in everyone’s ears, causing a collective gasp to fill the room. The brown-haired boy beside Coco caught her as she fell back, her hand going instantly to her cheek. As she stood once more she took it away and examined it. Emily could see the barest hint of blood on the blonde’s fingers. A growl threatened to rise in her throat and her lips curled in a disgusted snarl.

It was hard to keep calm as she addressed the woman donned in black, “we’re all adults here. We can use our words… I hope. At least some of us have mastered that much.”

Venable turned to her. The black-haired girl beside her shifted uncomfortably. One could cut the tension between the two women with a knife.

Finally, Venable pulled her eyes away and turned her focus to the spoiled girl before her, her hand resting back on the cane she always carried, “Let me be very clear so there will be no misunderstanding. We have enough nutrition to last for the next 18 months and if our situation doesn’t improve, you can count on less and less.”

Slowly, Coco sat. Shaking hands pulled away from her cheek as she reached for the chair. She was so scared that her movements were stiff. Yes, she had been yelled at before. God knows she was a stubborn woman with a temper, but no one had ever slapped her before.

Venable retreated into the only exit of the room, slithering back into the shadows. Venable’s tone bordered on the overly-theatric, playing the part of a woman burdened by knowledge she dare not speak lest it disrupts the peace.

“You could have told us that from the very beginning.” Emily blurted out.

The woman didn’t even bother to look at her as her lips curled into a mocking smile. When she finally turned to Emily, her tone was thick with condescension, “and cause unnecessary panic?”

“You know what they say about communication and relationships.”

“ Situation ?” Gallant asked, waving a hand to get their attention, “What is our situation ?”

Miss Mead looked to her boss whose face glimmered with uncertainty and surprise, but only for a moment. Venable was debating whether or not to tell the truth or keep them in the constant state of unknowing, easy to control. If she were still in college, Emily could have written an essay on the ways Venable reminded her of the worst sort of people in their history books.

“We had a perimeter alert this morning,” She finally told them, less than pleased with the fact the words were leaving her mouth at all, “Something penetrated the grounds. It was a carrier pigeon delivering a message from our benefactors.”

Coco gasped, “Wait! A pigeon! Can we eat it?”

Emily sighed and leaned on the table, resisting the urge to hand her head in her hands. This place was going to be migraine city the moment she tapered off her medication.

Miss Mead’s tone echoed her feelings, brows scrunching at the pure idiocy of the question.

“It was contaminated by the fallout .”

Her response didn’t phase Evie, who made it abundantly clear she had never made a meal for herself in her entire life, “Can we boil it?”

Venable reached into her pockets and pulled out a small sliver of paper and began to read, “There are no more governments. Only rotting mounds of corpses, too many to bury.”

Emily’s hands fell to her lap and curled into fists until she could feel her fingernails embed themselves into the flesh of her palms. All she could hear were the voice-mails, each and every last plead for life. She could still hear her brother’s voice, cracking in a way she hadn’t heard since their grandmother’s funeral. It was etched into her brain to the last breath. To his last breath, he took his role as an older sibling seriously, trying to soothe her fears instead of his own.

“I don’t want to die. God, I don’t want to—”

Venable continued reading, “Starving people kill for a piece of bread.”

“I love you… I… You were… are a good sister.”

“Three outposts have been overrun.” Venable’s voice droned on, voice cracking ever slightly as she reached the end of the letter, “We are the last vestiges of civilized life on the planet.”

“I… I know you would have made a difference… I wish I could have seen the life you would have created.”

Venable looked to them all as she read the last line, “be vigilant.”

Emily was pulled from her thoughts by a squeeze to her hand, instinctively pulling it back until she realized a hand covering her own. When Emily met the ebony-haired girl’s gaze she offered a reassuring smile, Emily nodded in a small message of thanks before brushing away the single tear which had begun to roll down her cheeks.

“Everything we know is gone,” Mead summarized, eyes blank. It was nice to see that even the Warden and Venable felt fear. Made them feel… human.

“In two weeks ?”, Andre shook his head, staring blankly at his hands, “That’s all it took?”

In a rare show of empathy, Gallant reached out and squeezed the man’s hands. Emily noted the way Stu watched the interaction, eyes watching the hands as if it were a snake slithering in his direction.

“They made you think the system was a rock,” Mead explained, standing at attention with her hands locked together in front of her, “It was a water balloon. One prick of the needle and —”

She made a popping noise, “that’s all it took.”

It wasn’t as if Emily was surprised. One of the first things she learned in a college psychology class was that the only reason the world didn’t fall into chaos was due to people putting faith in a system that would protect them… conventional. The bombs had scattered them, left them weak to the chaos that ensued. It reminded her of the way roaches scattered when sprayed with Raid. Lawlessness was the antithesis of reason, mob mentality was evidence enough of that. It was textbook horror.

“We will only survive if we follow the rules,” Venable emphasized.

Emily scoffed. Some of Venable’s rules she understood while others were a blatant overreaching of power. She could understand the “no sex” rule to a degree. Copulation could result in the creation of new life which they had no means to sustain, but even the Victorians had condoms and you couldn’t walk into a 7-Eleven without finding a rack of Plan B. Not to mention half the residents were gay which made her rules pointless.

“Rules are the basis of order,” Venable said, clearly addressing her despite staring at the wall above them, “unless you find yourself to be above the rules? Too special for them to apply?”

She hadn’t a moment to voice her thoughts, quickly distracted by the army of wardens that quickly began to fill the room. They all watched with bated breath as The Fist bent down to whisper in Mead’s ear, her lip twitching and eyes flitting to the ground as she gave the other woman her full attention.

“There’s a problem.”

Those 3 words were enough to break Venable’s gloating, head snapping to the side like Coco’s had a moment ago. They all watched the pair, unsure of who to keep a better watch on — Venable or Mead.

“We’ve detected a spike in the background radiation, centered in this room,” Mead informed her boss.

Gallant was quick to point fingers to the new pair, whatever empathy he had shown with Andre gone like the wind as he moved from them as if they had the plague, “It’s them! They just came from the outside!”

“No!” The girl exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously and sitting forward in her chair, knuckles white around the wooden arms, “No! We were checked when we got here! We’re clean!”

She looked to Emily for aid, brown eyes wide and pupils dilated. Her eyes glimmered with confusion and panic, searching for an unspoken question. Emily’s brows knitted and she bit her lip, eyes flickering between the girl before her and the wardens preparing a device that looked like a microphone attached to a larger box.

“No,” the boy echoed, “we went through decontamination.”

His eyes also went to Emily as he continued to speak, begging for her to understand, “we were cleared.”

Emily opened her mouth but could find nothing to reassure them. Mead addressed the room before Emily could utter a word. “Place your hands on the table… and don’t. Move .”

Shaking her head at the girl, Emily did as she was told. This hadn’t happened before. She didn’t know what to expect. As the device clicked from her left, she edged her pinky towards her knife. It wasn’t sharp. It didn’t have to be sharp to cut through jello. With enough pressure, it could cut through skin. The rest of the room faded away as she kept her eyes on The Fists' hands, a second device in her hands as well. Emily’s heart hammered with each step closer.

“Radioactive contamination,” Mead spoke, devices crinkling like static as they hovered over each person, “is a grave risk to our entire community.”

The Fist, a giant of a woman with blonde hair pulled back from her face, towered above Emily when she was standing. Sitting down made her feel like a child in the presence of a giant. She held her breath as she felt the device get closer, clicking sounds falling silent as soon as it came above her hand. The Fist repeated the motion a few times more, making Emily’s heart go haywire in her chest, before moving on to the new arrival next to her, the clicking resuming once more.

“The clean rule is there to protect all of us,” Mead continued, now going over the boy who sat stiff as a board, eyes following the woman’s every move, “A single stray gamma particle can cause skin lesions. Your DNA breaks apart, your body disintegrates. You’ll wish you died in the blast.”

The residents weren’t sure what to make of her speech. It wasn’t as if any of them graduated with a degree in radiology. They had learned it in high-school, sure, but that was ages ago… before there was colored TV for some of them.

“But someone here decided,” Mead went on, circling the table for a second round of testing, “that their individual needs were more important.”

Emily tensed once more as the stick was waved around her, Mead pausing momentarily to look down at the box she held in her hand to see if it had somehow turned off. Finding nothing, she continued. “Someone went outside. Touched something dirty .”

The room was holding their breaths. They all knew they were innocent, but didn’t trust their companions as far as they could throw them. Their gaze followed the device, then to the person next to them, then to the person in front of them. They searched for a sign of guilt. It was easier to point fingers when someone looked shifty.

“Makes me sick to think that this person,” Mead spit as she made it to gallant, “to risk contaminating all—”

A wild crackling filled the room. They all jumped in their seats, eyes focusing on the hairdresser. Emily’s heart leapt into her throat, paralyzed as the vultures began circling, donned in leather and stronger than any of them could hope to be.

“No,” The man said after a moment, shaking his finger as he looked to the Wardens, “nononono. That’s a mistake because the only thing I’ve touched is Coco’s hair.”

The Fist stood over Coco and shook her head. Mead gave the final order, voice lacking any pity, “she’s clean. You’re dirty.

The wardens grabbed at Gallant, claws latching onto him as he began to struggle.

“No!” He cried, “this is impossible! That machine is wrong!”

Fingers dug into his shoulder and Gallant cried out in pain, dragged to his feet and across the floor. The warden closest to him placed him in a choke-hold, Gallant letting out a fearful sob as he clawed at the man’s arm. Evie stood, chair screeching across the floor as she reached out towards her grandson with trembling hands.

“This is outrageous! Stop! Please, stop! Bring him back!”

Coco gasped and let out a cry, hands moving to cover her face as her eyes welled with tears. The girl beside Emily looked between herself and the boy in front of her, chest rising and falling rapidly as she began to hyperventilate.

Gallant scream pierced the air, “Evie!”

The crackling filled the room once more. In their panic, they had failed to realize Mead making her way towards Andre and Stu. The couple could only stare at each other, the seconds dragging on like hours.

“No way!” Stu chanted, refusing to look away from Andre, “No! No way!”

“No,” Andre sobbed, reaching out towards the man and trying to pry him from the grasp of the warden pulling him away. He was thrown away with a shove.

“Get your hands off me!” Stu screamed, another warden now going to carry him by his feet.

Mead’s voice rang out from the chaos, followed swiftly by the marching of footsteps.

“Take them to the decontamination room!”

They could hear the groans of their fellow residents echoing down the hall. The sounds resonated long after the steel doors had closed.

Emily reached out for the hand of the girl next to her. Her face was frozen in a gasp, eyes wide with terror. Her hand rested on hers which still sat on the table. She squeezed back and held on for dear life.

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

For once the saloon was quiet. Evie had gone to bed. Emily currently sat next to a crying Andre, Dinah opposite her. He hadn’t been able to stop crying since dinner, now unable to do more than hiccup.

“How could he have been contaminated,” He sobbed, a horrible epiphany crossing his mind as he turned to Emily, “do you think they—?

Emily gave him a look, “Did you forget Gallant’s little hand-squeeze during dinner? He was coming on to you, not Stu.”

Andre had a fleeting smile before anxiety overtook him once more.

“What we need to do now,” Dinah said, running a hand up and down her son’s back, “is make sure Stu comes back safe.”

Her words were less than comforting, Andre shoving away her arm and staring at her with an emotion Emily couldn’t quite place… somewhere between distress and anger.

“Why wouldn’t he be safe?” he demanded, looking to the brunette when his mother offered no response. Emily opened her mouth, hoping something would pop into her head, but she was at a loss for words. She couldn’t reassure him of anything. It would be a lie.

The man scoffed, stepping back and shaking his head, “I can’t believe you.”

He turned on his heels, breath hitching once more as another fit of sobs threatened to take over him. Why Stu? Why not them? Of all the residents Stu was the least deserving of—

Emily rose, hand held out to stop him, “Andre—”

A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder. Dinah took a step around her, hand trailing down her purple-clothed arm until she held her hand, the other coming to rest on top of it.

“Let me talk to him,” the woman tried to reassure, the events clearly have shaken her as much as Stu.

Emily pressed her lips together and nodded, pulling back and watching the woman hurry towards her son, heels clicking down the hall. The door clanged shut behind her and silence filled the room.

… but only for a moment.

“What’s going to happen to me if they find out Gallant is —” Coco started to ramble, “I mean I was the only reason he was here in the first place.”

“You were clean,” The brown-haired boy pointed out, face twisting in confusion.

“Well, I know that!” Coco exclaimed, turning on the couch to face him, “but who’s to say there won’t be a second investigation. I mean there had to be a reason they were tainted.”

She went quiet for a moment, hands held out in front of her as if she was having a revelation, “oh my gosh! If they kill Gallant who’s going to do my hair?”

Emily sighed and sat next to the new girl who was wringing her hands and staring into the fire.

“I never did ask your names,” Emily noted, looking to the girl and the boy.

“Timothy,” He said with a nod of his head.

The girl was pulled from her thoughts, turning from the fire and to the people behind her, “Emily.”

Emily chuckled, “You’re joking.”

“What?”

“It’s the end of the world and I can’ escape the fate of having a basic girl name.”

A smile curled at the other Emily’s lips, then a laugh, “really?”

Emily extended a hand, “Hi, Emily. I’m Emily.”

“There’s two of you now?” Coco groaned.

“I was named after my grandmother,” The other Emily said, taking her hand and giving it a shake, “you?”

“My parents looked in a baby book and picked a ‘less common’ girl name. 21 years later and there’s at least three Emily’s in each one of my classes.”

“God, this is going to be confusing,” Coco sighed, pressing her fingers to her nose in a praying motion, “Oh! I know! Emily 1 and Emily 2… no... That’s too wordy.”

“Middle names?” Timothy asked.

“No way in hell,” The two replied.

“I can always go by ‘Em’,” she said, “god knows I’m used to it by now.”

“M?” Coco asked, “that’s original.”

“Well, we can’t all be named after a brand of cereal.”

“I was named after Coco Chanel!” she snapped, turning to Timothy with crocodile tears, “You get it, right?”

“…yeah?” he answered, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion, “The clothing brand.”

He looked to the two Emily’s as he spoke like he was part of some hidden camera show. The two could only laugh and shake their heads as he was quickly rounded into another one of Coco’s monologues.

“My parents named me Coco because they knew I was destined to make it big. So it was only natural that I…”

Timothy looked ready to face nuclear winter. His guilt over the previous dinner altercations made him feel guilty for wanting to run away, but the boy always had a hard time saying, “no.” The Emily’s watched on, sparing him pity-filled glances when he looked to them for help.

“So did you pay your way in here or are you here for your superior genetics?” Emily asked.

“Genetics,” Emily… Em replied, “I was supposed to be on the east coast but someone paid for me to be transported all the way out here.”

“Who?”

She shrugged, “no idea. Some rich snob wanted their dog to go with them… at least that’s what Venable tells me.”

“I’d hardly call her a trustful resource.”

Em laughed, “That we can agree on.”

“How long do you think we’ll be here?”

“More than we have rations for,” Em sighed, reaching for a glass of water, “Fallout could last up to five years and we’ve talked about Chernobyl… but nothing on this scale has ever been recorded.”

Emily stared blankly ahead and nodded, trying to recall all she had learned about the matter in school, “we could be here for 30 years… maybe more.”

“Sorry,” Em offered, “anyone here can tell you — I’m not one to speak to for optimism or reassurance.”

“No,” The other girl shook her head, “I’d rather blatant honestly than pretty lies.”

“If we had anything more than water I’d toast to that.”

Emily laughed and shook her head. She reached for a glass of her own and held it up.

“Let’s toast anyway.”

Em smiled and leaned her glass forward, a dull clinking sound filling the air.

“What were you doing?” Em asked, leaning back and taking a sip of water, “before the bombs hit?”

“Protesting. It sounds minuscule now… climate change, minimum wage.”

“Everything is minuscule in the presence of death.”

“Poetic.”

“I sure hope so,” Em jested, “or all the money I wasted on an English Major was worthless.”

Emily laughed, “Is that what you were doing before the bomb’s dropped?”

“Nah… I was at home… enjoying summer. I was working on our campus’ literary magazine and selling art prints online as a side-hustle.”

Em shook her head, silence sitting for a moment before Emily spoke.

“I don’t know what to do with myself now.”

“I don’t think any of us do, but at least we’re not alone.”

“I wouldn’t call this particularly good company,” Emily admitted.

“It’s not,” Em blatantly admitted, earning a short laugh from her companion, “but you and timothy seem alright.”

“And you?”

“Well…” Em said, side eying Coco who was still avidly speaking without a sign of ever stopping, “I’m no influencer.”

Emily snorted and shook her head, “that may be for the best.”

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

“All I’m saying is Stu was boring and using up our food, and that lesions won’t work with my complexion.”

Em rolled her eyes and looked to Emily who once again sat beside her as Coco’s tirade went on. The blond-haired woman once again was patting at her hair like she was on the red carpet. They looked to Timothy across from them who just sat looking blankly ahead of him. Em smiled at shook her head, not able to blame the man for pretending he was anywhere else but here. If not for the mandatory cocktail hour and communal meals, Em would have stayed as far away from the others as possible.

Days had passed since Gallant and Stu had been forced into decontamination. Gallant refused to speak of the incident and… well… they knew where it got Stu. One would have liked to have said that Coco had shown some respect for the deceased, but the farthest she got was initial shock followed by contempt towards their fallen comrade.

“Fuck you,” Andre spat, murder in his eyes, “I hope they come for you next.”

“If they don’t,” Em noted, Coco’s eyes glaring into her own, “I will.”

She gaped at her, nose curling as her expression turned into one of disgust, “Is that a threat?”

“A promise.”

Emily gave her a look like a mother trying to get their child to behave among strangers.

It’s not worth it!” She hissed under her breath. Em was far too annoyed to pay her any mind. She could forgive selfishness and vanity, but her complete lack of sympathy for those in pain? It didn’t matter if it was genuine. All she had to do was shut up, give Andre space to grieve.

Lucky for Coco, their jail-keepers arrived at the table before Em could follow out her threat. Venable’s cane sounded like the tik of a clock with each step she took, reminding the brunette of a horror story her friends and herself would tell around Halloween.

“Nobody is coming for anyone,” Mead told them as they both rounded the table to their respective seats at the head of the table, “unless you break the rules.”

She looked to Em, “which includes murder.”

Em paused as she took a sip of water, raising a brow at Coco, “I never said anything about murder.”

The older woman looked into her lap and shook her head, trying to hide the amused smile threatening to show on her face. Coco scoffed.

“This is harassment!”

“This is a difficult time for everyone,” Venable spoke, failing to address Coco’s claims, “as a small consolation, we have a special treat.”

Em could smell the food before she could see it, the salt and the meat, she could taste it in her mouth without even touching it. She felt like a dog, smelling things with such detail she had never been able to notice before. It was incredible what desperation could do to the body. The whole table buzzed with excitement, grins brightening faces and hands going to silverware before the food could be set on the table.

Emily was unable to hide her shock, “no cubes tonight?”

Venable’s lips curled into a smile, the expression doing nothing to ease the woman’s continuously angry expression, “enjoy the bonne bouche.”

Bowls clinked together, the Greys hurrying to place food on the table.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Yes,” Emily sighed beside her, looking over to Em with an expression of relieved joy.

The brunette didn’t care. If she was being honest, she hadn’t exactly paid much attention to the woman’s words after she saw the soup on the food trolley. It was much like a cat seeing a bird at the window, green eyes widening and pupils dilating as if Em had found her true love. While her companions were much more graceful, at least attempting some decorum, Em quickly dug into the meal.

Her mother used to chide her for this as a child, sitting next to her brother at the dinner table and seeing who could finish first. She couldn't explain to the woman that she had to eat fast or else her brother would steal her dessert. Such things didn’t make sense to an adult, but a child’s reasoning was elaborate and honest. For a life so short, every little detail mattered.

Usually, she wasn’t a fan of stew. Something about the floating meat and murky broth didn’t sit right with her. Now she wondered why she didn’t enjoy the delicacy more often. The meat fell apart like well-buttered bread in her mouth, the broth warmed her from the inside out. She could feel it burning down her throat like a shot of Bourbon, somewhat painful but none the less satisfying.

“You think bribing us with a hot meal’s just gonna’ to make everything okay?” Andre asked, voice sore with grief. A white handkerchief flourished with the wave of his hand. It had been somewhere on his person since Stu was pronounced dead. Em was too caught up in her hunger to realize the weight of his words or the sudden stillness of the girl beside her, an unspoken conversation between herself and Timothy. She would take the bribe happily if it meant being spared from the tasteless cube she had become accustomed to. It wouldn’t win her over, but only a fool refused something readily given with no strings attached.

By the time Emily swatted at Em’s arm the brunette had already finished most of the stew, the bottom of her bowl visible through the broth. She sent Emily an irritated glare, gesturing with her hands as she swallowed her last bite.

“What?” she hissed.

Emily only rose her brows and sent a pointed glance towards Timothy. Turning towards him she was meant with an equally suspicious gaze and a shake of the head. With a sigh, she sat back in her chair, looking between the two and waiting for an explanation.

“I think my mouth just had an orgasm,” Coco moaned with a full mouth, quickly shoving more food into her mouth in fear it would turn out to be a cruel mirage. Em looked at her and embarrassment made her flush a pale pink. Is that what she had looked like?

“Andre,” Venable sighed, settling in her seat and arranging her silverware before she took a single bite, “We’re not trying to bribe anyone, but there is something we all need to understand.”

With a thud of her cane on the floor, the residents turned to her like raccoons being caught in a garbage can. Em prepared herself for a show of saintly-hood the uptight woman so adored.

“There is no ‘us’ and ‘them,’ We are in this together,” Venable proclaimed, “No individual is greater than the group. We did what we had to do. This is, quite simply, a tragedy.”

Em held her tongue for once. While Stu and herself hadn’t been close, she respected him more than she respected most of her fellow purples. The old world may have died, but the power games still presided — a strongman was still a strongman even when draped in fine clothes and laced in a corset.

It wasn’t as if any of them were paying her any mind, too enthralled in the smell of salt and meat like Hansel and Gretal in the witch’s house. Dinah sighed as she took another bite.

“Where have you been hiding the meat?”

Venable’s pause waved over Em like a bucket of cold water, the slight twitch of her lip as she looked down at her plate louder and more illuminating than any sermon she had given them. “We have resources… for special occasions.”

Em could only stare at her as she ate, trying to work at the puzzle which was Miss Venable. There were moments where she swore the woman showed regret or perhaps anxiety, but they were small and fleeting. Everyone had a tell, even the most stoic of society. Em just couldn’t figure it out and it drove her up a wall. It felt like she was staring at a brick wall, waiting for it to crumble.

Gallant pulled something out from his mouth, cringing as his teeth dig into something hard. It was white and square, but he couldn’t tell what it was? Gristle? Bone?

“I’ve never tasted anything like it.” He murmured, examining the object further as he twisted it in the light.

“It’s chicken,” Mead told him a bit too insistently.

“That’s not a chicken bone,” Timothy spoke, looking from his untouched bowl to the object the hairdresser was holding. His lips pressed into a thin line. Venable took a spoonful to her lips, then another, and then another.

Andre spoke from the other end of the table, voice wavering as he stared at yet another hard piece which had made his teeth hurt, “tell me this doesn’t look like a finger.”

Em looked to her plate, stomach twisting as she poked at the remains of her meal. A piece of white glimmered to the surface. Damning polite behavior, she reached in with her hand and pulled it out. Her mind went blank as she stared at it, rectangular with two prongs reaching outward from the body. It was a tooth. There was no doubt. Chicken didn’t have teeth. A frog gathered at the back of her throat, threatening to leap from her mouth.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Andre sputtered out, breath coming out in wheezing gasps as he flew back from the table shrieking, “The stew is Stu!”

The table erupted in panic. Gallant spit out whatever was in his mouth, leaving a dripping dark stain on the tablecloth. Andre wailed and Coco shrieked to a Grey named Mallory to make her throw up. Em could only stare at the near-empty bowl in front of her, the reality not quite sitting with her. Morbid questions filled her mind. It had tasted like… she didn’t know what it tasted like other than meat. Salty, maybe? Sweet?

A firm hand squeezed her own, Emily once again there to pull her from a spiral.

“You didn’t know.”

Amongst the screaming, the gagging, and the retching Venable sat, unmoved by the fires of fear rising around her. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t show any reaction at all.

“For heaven’s sake,” she spoke with the same amount of annoyance she always addressed them with, a touch of boredom in her tone “Don’t be ridiculous. There are lines which can never be crossed.”

Something was glinting in Venable’s eyes, something that Em had seen many times before but could never properly place. The woman looked to Mead, “not eating people is off the first rank.”

Em’s voice sounded hollow as it left her, “Yet it is always the first taboo to be broken among the desperate.”

The thought of cannibalism wasn’t what alarmed Em. Cannibalism was deeply ingrained in human history — from burial rituals to a final stand against starvation. No. What frightened her was realizing she would do it again in an instant if it meant her survival. A fire burned in her as she looked to Venable, sitting there with a smug glow of victory. She had hated Venable before, but this made her blood boil at the sight of her. A revelation she did not want had been forced upon her and Venable’s eyes glinted as they met her own.

Her message was clear: Don’t rebel or you’ll be next.

#ahs fanfic #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x oc

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lunasilvermorny · 4 years

Text

The Luna and Rowan Show - Pride Month Edition

Pride month - Day 7.

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

*6 minutes opening credits*

Rowan: Hey, Luna why are these flags all over our house? And why are we sharing a house?

Luna: Don't you know, Rowan? It's June, which means it's Pride month! We need to show our support to the LGBTQ+ community!

Rowan: But we are already a part of the community, every month is pride month for us.

Luna: You said it!

Rowan: Why are you looking at the wall?

Luna: Anyway, want to have a gay lunch?

Rowan: What's a gay lunch?

Luna: It's like regular lunch, but on pride month.

Rowan: Seriously, what are you looking at? You’re freaking me out.

Luna: *creepy smile intensifies*

Rowan: And again, I'm gay. Every lunch is technically gay lunch. Unless my father is around.

Luna: Haha, a homophobic parent. So relatable.

Rowan: Okay, what the hell is going on?

Luna: Did you know that being gay is gay?

Rowan: Is it Jacob? Is he controlling you from afar again?

Jacob: Did someone say my name?

*Jacob walks in*

*Claps and cheers*

Rowan: What have you done to Luna?

Jacob: Say, do you know what month it is?

Rowan: Yes, June. Pride month. I get it-

Jacob: It's pride month!

Rowan: Yeah, that's what I said.

Jacob: We need to show our support to the LGBTQ+ community!

Rowan: You are gay! You’re literally a part of the community!

Jacob: But just this month, every other month is straight month.

Rowan: It doesn't work that way.

Luna: Hello, Jacob. Happy gay.

Jacob: Happy bi.

Rowan: Is this the twilight zone? And what's the twilight zone?

Luna: Look at the time, I have to bi somewhere else.

*laugh track*

Rowan: A stupid dad joke - check!

*Luna leaves*

Jacob: Say Rowan-

Rowan: Yes, yes, I know! It's pride month! Can we talk about something else, please? Anything else!

Jacob: Dedicating a whole month to this might seem redundant, but it is important. You need to understand why we celebrate it in the first place. Because yes, for us every month is pride month, it's who we are, but we need to normalize it so that we could be treated as equals. The point is not to say that we only have this month to express ourselves, it's to give people a reason to unite and stand for our basic rights, whether you're a part of the community or an ally. We've come so far, but only because we fought to get here, and although it might seem like we are accepted everywhere, there are still places where racism and homophobia exist out in the open and we need to make it clear that no matter how much hateful people push, we will never stop pushing back, because this is who we are and we're not going anywhere. This month represent the struggles we've went through and will go through in the future, until people everywhere would be free to be who they are without the fear of being discriminated against or hated for it. It's basic human rights, and it's something that is worth fighting for.

Rowan: Oh, wow.

Jacob: Also, I love wearing slutty costumes in parades.

Rowan: I was not expecting that. You're right. We need to do something. Protest, make out voices heard!

Jacob: Do you want to go make out instead?

Rowan: Oh, Merlin, yes!

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

I remember 10 years ago, people said that being part of the LGBTQ+ is normal and accepted in our society and there’s no need to shove this topic down people’s throats anymore, but looking back now, so much have changed for the better.

Happy pride, everyone.

Also, why am I still making the joke that Rowan has a crush on Jacob? I hate it so much. Please, someone, save me from myself! I can’t stop and we can’t let it bleed into the headcanon!

#hogwarts mystery #barely headcanon #the luna and rowan show #luna silver #rowan khanna #jacob silver #pride month 2020

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nemo1230 · 5 years

Text

Promises worth a lifetime

"Richie, slow the fuck down, man, I can't breathe, jesus!" Eddie was panting and red in the face from being dragged by his arm by none other than Richie Tozier. Fucking hell.

Don't get him wrong, Eddie loves his boyfriend to death, and always will, but sometimes he can be real pain in the ass. Like right now, Richie arrived at Eddies house at four in the morning, banged on his window like a proper gentleman that he is, without so much as a word drove him somewhere in his rusty 1978 Ford Mustang II that smelled like cigarettes and air freshener that Eddie had desperately sprayed, using at least half of the bottle, gotten out, grabbed Eddies arm and started dragging him into the woods.

"Eddie, sweetheart, please, hold on a little longer, we don't have much time left!" Richie shouted infront of him, sounding a bit out of breath himself. His black curls were bouncing slightly with each step he took, and Eddie might have gotten a bit hypnotized by that if he didn't feel like his lungs were on fire.

"Late for what?? And where in the ever-lasting hell are we? Why in the name of god are we in the woods in four in the god damn morning? Are you trying to get us killed? Because I swear to god, if we die, I'll personally bring myself and you back to life just so I can kill you again, Tozier, and that's a promise!" He tried to sound threatening but the many short intakes of breath ruined it. He run his free hand trough his hair and felt that some sweat had already formed on his forehead. It was the very crack of dawn yet he didn't feel cold at all, despite the cool early morning air. He was only in his pajamas pants and one of Richies big t-shirts, this one saying "want some sax?" With a cartoonish drawing of a saxophone. It's so fucking stupid, since none of them even plays saxophone, but the t-shirt is big and soft and smells like Richie, okay.

Richie just briefly looked back at him, flashing him a toothy grin. "Babe, patience, you'll get it once we're there."

Eddie decided that this really was a losing fight, so he shut up, letting Richie lead him wherever that big dumbass had planned, instead focusing all his attention to the ground, since he had tripped at least 5 times already.

They half-jogged for some time before Richies voice rung trough the still silence of the morning. "We're here Eds!"

Eddie practically jumped, too deep in thought to pay any mind to their surroundings. "Where..." He trailed off, finally looking up and seeing where they were. Turns out Richie somehow had found a hill, that was surrounded by the woods, but leaving a small field in the front empty. In the distance, by the bottom of the hill, the whole city of Derry could be seen. It wasn't one of the most breathtaking views, since Derry was quite small, no big buildings, no flashy traffic, just a few lonely houses, cramped closely together. In a few windows a faint light could be seen, people getting ready for the day. But mostly what made Eddies breath get caught in his throat was the sunrise - a slight blur of pink and orange light, right by the horizon, and the morning mist that seemed to be wrapped round the whole city, giving a surreal undertone to all of it.

"Do you like it? I brought a blanket, we can sit down, if you want." Richie brought Eddie out of his short moment of being completely consumed of the scene that unraveled beneath and above them.

"Yeah, okay." he said, still feeling a bit dazed. Richie got out the blanket from his backpack, layed it out, and gestured for Eddie to sit down. "Your lair awaits you, sir." He said, doing a quite terrible british accent. But his smile was genuine, so Eddie only meant half of the shove that he directed at him, before sitting down, facing the sunrise.

Richie plopped down next to him, immediately lacing their fingers together. Eddie thought about how natural and easy now physical affection was to them; only a few months ago they were hesitant, all of their actions laced with uncertainty, how they were scared that even the smallest touch will break the whole thing in pieces. Now, however, they couldn't stop touching eachother, drawn to eachother, like magnets, never being able to be apart for too long. Maybe it was the fact that for so long they had repressed, hidden their want and need for eachother so much, that now that it's finally out and they know it's okay, the want and need has only intensified, leaving them never satisfied, always wanting more.

Eddie let his head fall onto Richies shoulder, deeply inhaling the scent that was so entirely his boyfriend. Richie rested his head on top of his, after kissing it tenderly.

Over them, the sunrise slowly bled into soft morning light, surrounding them in blushing shades of pink. Here, in each other's arms, they felt safe. In a way, it was a bit ironic, since technically the whole homophobic town was right in front of them, and here they were, two boys, openly showing affection, but it felt like the mist and first rays of sun were creating a safe haven for them, a bubble where only they and their love existed, no restrictions, a small, temporary salvation for the curse that was this god forsaken town.

"Richie?" Eddie whispered, not wanting to damage this still, quiet moment.

"Mm?" Came an illegible reply. He seemed to be deep in thought.

"Thank you. For bringing me here. Honestly, I needed that. Even though I am still a bit angry that you made me do this in four in the morning."

Richie squeezed their intertwined hands. "Anything for my Spaghetti!" He exclaimed, although being his usual annoying self, sounding genuinely happy that Eddie enjoyed this.

Eddie tried to fight off a smile while saying "Call me that again, and I'll push you off this hill."

Richie did a very over exaggerated gasp. "Eddie, my love! How could you say such things! My own lover!"

Eddie only snorted.

After a while, finally the coolness of the morning caught up to him and he shivered slightly.

Richie immediately felt it and lifted his head, looking at Eddie. "Oh shit, Eds, you cold?" He took both of Eddies hands and kneaded them with his, then shoved them right into the sleeves of his hoodie.

"Yeah, because someone decided it would be a good idea to sit on the ground at the very crack of dawn!" He grumbled, not really meaning it. He was glad that Richie took him here, but that didn't mean he couldn't complain a little.

"You love me." Came the replay, and then Richie proceeded to untangle their hands, remove his hoodie and throw it at Eddie.

Eddie caught it right on time, and schruched up his face in a frown. "How long ago did you last wash this?" he asked, while pulling it on.

Richie chuckled. "Dunno, maybe your mom washed it after one of my nightly visits to her."

"You're disgusting." Eddie stated, then pecked Richie on the lips. "Thank you. You sure you won't be cold?"

Richie smirked before replaying, "Nope, all I need is the burning love I have for your dear mother."

He rolled his eyes. His boyfriend is going to be the death of him. "Beep-beep, Richie. Jesus, how can a person be so fucking annoying."

"I do try my best, Eds."

Now Richie rested his head on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie exhaled, feeling content. Then he looked ahead, and finally saw the city more clearly, the fog had disappeared, taking with it the safe feeling that it had provided. It now put things in a perspective; the fact that they'll never be able to be together freely in this town, they will never be accepted, or even tolerated. It was like a punch in the gut, leaving Eddie out of breath. Suddenly he no longer could take this sudden overwhelming feeling so he blurted out, "Rich. Can you promise me something?"

Richie replied immediately. "Anything for you, babe."

"Promise me that we'll get out of here. That we'll leave this stupid fucking town and go as far away as we can. Please, can you promise me that?" He now felt tears stinging his eyes, vision getting a little blurry. He quickly tried to blink it away.

Richie then lifted his head from Eddies shoulder, taking his face in his hands. "Of course, Eds! We'll get out of here, all right! One day we'll start my car, pack our shit and leave. We'll go somewhere so far, that this shithole will feel like a bad dream, and nothing more. We can go to like LA or something. And we'll build a life together, just you and me, we'll get an apartment together, I could do comedy or something and you'll do something boring, yet something that's so you, that it will be fine, and we'll get a dog, or a cat, or both, who cares and we'll fucking be one of those disgusting couples that take pictures together all the time and our friends will tease us to death but we'll be so god damn happy that we won't care. Fuck, Eds, I'll marry the shit out of you, if they make it legal. I'll-"

But whatever else Richie wanted to promise him died on this tongue because Eddies was throwing himself at him, kissing him so fiercely that Richie almost fell back. They kissed and kissed, and kissed some more. Their kisses held promises worth a lifetime, they held so much love that they could barely handle it all.

They drew back, but still stayed close, foreheads tightly pressed together, panting in each others mouths.

Eddie took a breath and exhaled slowly. "Damn you, Tozier, and your never ending theatrics. I swear, I'll lose my mind one day because of you."

Richie laughed, but then slightly pulled back, to look into Eddie's eyes. "They're not theatrics though. I meant it all. I would marry you one day, if it would be possible."

Eddie couldn't stop the tears now escaping his eyes and he quickly looked away, to try to wipe them before quietly saying, "I would too. I'd marry the shit out of you too."

Richies eyes were glossy too now, yet he still reached forward and took his face in his hands, wiping away the rest of the tears. He had a tender smile on his face, a rare occurrence, since most of the time he preferred a smirk. He looked beautiful like this; all freckled cheeks, soft eyes, pink lips and wild hair.

"Damn, I've really hit the jackpot with you, haven't I, like what did I even do to deserve you," said Richie, while fixing his glasses.

"Yeah, whatever," Eddie snorted, while shoving him affectionately. "We should return soon. My mom will kill me if she finds that I'm not home."

The sun was already up, last shades of pink turning into light blue, the air already warming up a bit.

"Yeah," Richie agreed, but none them them made the move to leave. They were reluctant to leave this comfort that they've found in simply being with eachother.

They simply held eachother for some time, stretching out the time as long as possible.

At some point they did leave, hand in hand, until getting into the car and driving back. Richie drove Eddie home, and since it being so early, the streets were empty, so Eddie in lightning speed pecked Richie goodbye, got out of his car and sneaked back into his house.

One day they won't have to sneak around like that. One day they will be free, accepted, and loved.

One day.

#reddie #reddie au #reddie fic #eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it2017 #it chapter one #it movie #nemo writes

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batskulldrag · 4 years

Text

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

I’m gonna post chapter three wicked early. I’ll make a chapter list and link tehm alll together as soon as I figure out how.

Abuse mentions.

Chapter Three: Young Volcanos by Fall Out Boy

What are you doing!? Don’t show weakness! Virgil’s thoughts screamed at him.

No, I’m warm and safe. A different thought argued.

You don’t know him! What if everybody is like Dad!?

Then I’m already screwed!

He’ll use this against you!

How?

You think I know? I don’t think like them!

Maybe he doesn’t either!

You put your guard back up this instant!

Let me enjoy this…

Virgil ignored his louder instincts for the time being and pressed his head further into Patton’s shoulder. It was a nice feeling, and sure he probably couldn’t trust this guy, but he was going to enjoy feeling like this while he could. Patton seemed like a nice guy, and he smelled like butter. And everything else smelled like hand sanitizer, and it was cold because it was a hospital. But Patton was all warm.

Besides, even if he was going to do anything, he couldn’t with witnesses hanging around and security cameras everywhere. Maybe this was ok. Maybe this was normal. Virgil let himself slide down lower and rested his head on Patton’s lap.

“Ya getting sleepy there, kiddo?” Patton cooed, still stroking his hair.

“No, I’m ok.” Virgil mumbled. This was nice. He wanted to stay here.

“Ok.”

Virgil became aware of Patton’s heartbeat it was going fast. Was he nervous too? That was weird. Why was he worried?

Virgil sighed. Both Patton and Thomas were probably waiting for him to say something. Hell, they were probably expecting him start belting songs from Annie or jump up and click his heels. It’s not everyday someone gets pulled out of hell and sent somewhere better, so they were probably looking for a more mood fitting reaction than lying down and taking a nap. One more minute.

“So, what happens now?” Virgil asked, keeping his head on Patton’s lap. One more minute.

“Well, Patton has already signed all the forms and the background check should be coming back tomorrow.” Thomas answered, for whatever reason he looked really content. “So, as soon as you’re discharged you can go home with him.”

“When can I be discharged?” He was trying not to sound too eager. If they knew he wanted something they could probably use that to toy with him.

“I’m afraid that’s up to your doctors.”

“Ok.” That made sense.

“But when you do get out, we’ll have your room all ready.” Patton chirped at him. “And you’ll need to tell me what all your favorite foods are so I can make them.”

What an odd thing to say. I guess I should get up. One more minute.

“Ok.” He mumbled.

“Oh, and do you have any allergies or eating restrictions. Like vegetarian or vegan and the like?”

“No.” One more minute.

“As for right now.” Thomas sounded hesitant, was he going to kick Patton out? “Your doctors and I need to document your bruises. And if you want to you can make a statement for prosecution.”

“Right now?” Virgil sighed, no more hitting reality’s snooze bar. He slowly pulled himself back up.

“It is better we do it sooner rather than later.” Thomas sighed. “Patton can stay if you’d like him to.”

“Good idea, I was hoping for an even bigger group of people to see me in my underwear.” Virgil sneered, rubbing his arm. Despite his will he also felt his face going red. Damnit.

“I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s kind of a necessary evil.”

Virgil sighed and glanced at Patton. He might as well stay. This was as good a test to see if he was weird as any. Right? Yeah, he could be a serial killer, or this could be his kink or something like that. Best to know what he was going to get himself into. Just that. That and no other reason.

“I mean, he can stay if he wants to.” Virgil mumbled impassively. “It’s a free country, he can do whatever.”

“I’ll give you your privacy.” Patton replied, ruffling his hair. “I’ll come back in when they’re done kiddo.”

Patton stood up and took a few steps towards the door. Virgil’s heart sank. Patton abruptly stopped and turned around.

Are you gonna stay?

“I almost forgot to give you this.” Patton said happily. “this should help you ‘bear’ your stay here.”

Patton gleefully produced a stuffed bear and gently set in his mummified hands. As the toy stared derpilly up at him he got the joke and impulsively smiled. Then he saw the pun written across the bear and let out a laugh. Double whammy with the dad jokes. He glanced at Patton and saw that the older man was beaming (bee-ming?), clearly enthralled that Virgil liked the joke.

“He’s cool.” Virgil tried to play it off. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Patton turned back to the door. “I’ll be right out here if you need me. Ok?”

“Ok.”

Patton closed the door behind him only to reappear in the window and wave enthusiastically at him. He mouthed out the words I’ll be right here and gave a thumbs up. Virgil waved in return and fought back another smile. Patton was a funny guy and so far, he seemed pretty cool.

# # #

Patton shook his arms to get the relief tinglies to calm down. Everything seemed to go well. Virgil didn’t hate him, and he even liked dad jokes. And he liked the bear. So far things were going well.

He saw them close the blinds in Virgil’s room so that no one in the hallway could peep in on him. They must have started cataloging his bruises. Patton hoped his brother had a mean cellmate. He made a mental note to look up a few legal things when he got home.

While waiting Patton sent Logan a quick text to let him know everything was going ok on his end and to ask what was going on in the outside world.

# # #

Logan set another casserole dish on top of the stove. He had to shove aside the other three dishes, the two pies and the pot of soup. Both Patton’s library friends and all their neighbors had been at it for hours.

“How many friends does Patton have?” Roman exclaimed, walking into the kitchen with a Tupperware of pasta. “And why are they all old ladies?”

“Some of them are just parents whose kids were in his class.” Logan sighed. “He’s a lot of kids’ favorite teacher.”

“Is the fridge full?”

“Yes, just set the pasta on the table.”

“Any updates on the news?” Roman set the dish down exhaustedly.

“No, not yet.” Logan looked at his phone. “Patton texted. He says that Virgil’s fine, and seems excited to come live with us. And of course, he wants to know how we are.”

“Drowning in food and tired of small talk.” Roman switched into a frail voice. “It was so brave of you to rescue that boy. It’s so good of you three to take that boy in like this. It’s about time Patton and Logan adopted a kid.” He changed back. “I never thought I would get sick of praise. I feel like Jack Skellington.”

“Minus the kidnapping I hope.”

“You’re the one with the kid now.” Roman jabbed, eating the pasta straight from the dish with his hands.

“Roman, get a plate.” Logan began.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“If that’s Barbra from next door I’m calling the police.” Roman stood up dramatically.

“It’s my turn to deal with callers,” Logan walked towards the hallway. “But if it is her, I’m getting you.”

“Let’s set her up with my brother the next time we know where he is.” Roman laughed. “She’ll never speak to us again.”

“Neither will Remus.”

Logan could still hear Roman laughing when he got to the front door. He glanced through the peephole to see if it was indeed well-wishers. He instead saw several smartly dressed people bearing cameras and tape recorders rather than food. With few other options he turned out the lights in the front room and went back into the kitchen.

Roman was taking inventory when he got back.

“Say Lo-bot, how much of this could we take to the homeless shelter?” He asked casually. “I don’t want to be disrespectful or ungrateful, but this is a lot. The freezer is full, the refrigerator is full, and the oven is full. It would be more disrespectful to let this go to waste when the less fortunate could have it.”

“We will discuss that later,” Logan took the car keys off the rack. “But it is a good idea.”

“Where are you going?” Roman squinted at him.

“I’m going to pick Patton up from the hospital.”

“Who was at the door?”

“Reporters have found us. I’m all for the first amendment, but I do not wasn’t to be harassed in my own home. So, I’m leaving.”

“But won’t they go away if we talk to them?”

“Yes, but then they, and all others will think it’s okay to show up at people’s houses.”

Roman looked around.

“We could ask them in for dinner.” He laughed.

“But we won’t.”

# # #

Patton sat at the foot of the bed while Virgil sat across from him at the head. Virgil was sitting cross-legged with his casted foot poking out from under the blanket and the bear in his lap. Patton clicked his heels together; it was very quiet.

“You’re not much of a talker.” Patton teased.

“My throat hurts.” Virgil answered.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!!!

“So, you’re really my dad’s brother?” Virgil asked skeptically.

“Yeah, he’s about three years older than me.”

“And you’re related?”

“Yep, people used to mistake us for twins. Until I had to get glasses.”

Virgil coughed and tapped the bear on the nose a few times.

“This isn’t actually my first time meeting you.” Patton started. “My mom and I kind of did a lot of the raising when you were a baby.”

“Is that stuff dad said true?”

“No.” Patton dropped his shoulders. “It’s not. Our mother was wonderful and supportive. She even took Logan in after-” He stopped himself. “No, it’s not true. He was the homophobe.”

“Yeah, I never really believed the pseudo-rape story.” Virgil shifted his feet. “Dad always seemed more like a predatory animal. And maybe that was a front, but if it was it was flawless.”

“I think Payton said something about being with her for posterity.” Patton rubbed his arm. “She was really pretty and was a cheer leader in high school. And a lot of guys wanted to be with her. So, it was like a triumph for him.”

“He told you?” Virgil coughed.

“No. I just kind of figured. He did say he was gonna marry her, you know when we found out about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Patton mimicked his brother’s tone. “Children need a mommy and a daddy. And I have to accept my mistakes.” Patton switched back. “I never really believed him.”

Virgil shivered and looked down into his lap. Through his bangs Patton could see him biting his lip.

“I’m sorry.” Patton said quickly, but softly. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. I should have known that would hit too close to home for you. I’m sorry.”

Virgil looked at him quizzically and his eyes darted around the room. He seemed utterly baffled. Still looking like the world had just flipped over Virgil crawled over and put his head back into Patton’s lap.

“Are you ok, Kiddo?”

“Yeah,” He sounded stunned. “I’m fine. I-I just need to pull my thoughts together.”

“I get what you mean.” Patton tried to lighten the mood. “I never think straight, just ask my husband.”

Virgil laughed very softly.

“We’re gonna have to get that laugh stronger.” Patton teased, stroking his hair. “As soon as your throat is better, we’ll have you practice.”

“Practice?”

“Practice laughing, ya goof!”

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Virgil said in a strained voice.

“No, you’re wide awake.” Patton soothed. “And I can prove it. Your throat hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Like I swallowed a bag of razors.”

“Well, you can’t feel pain in dreams. And you can only feel one emotion at a time in them.”

“Really?”

“Yeppers, if you’re having a happy dream, you’re happy in the dream and nothing else. Same for all the other types of dreams. And they’re never this elaborate.”

“I guess not.” Virgil yawned.

“And you can’t get tired in a dream, now can you?” Patton asked, booping the younger man on the nose. “And you can’t learn something you don’t know in a dream, because it’s in your mind. And you don’t know what you don’t know.”

“So, this is real?” He yawned again. “It’s not a dream or an act or something.”

“Nope, it’s as real as that sore throat of yours.”

“Ok.” Virgil sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. “You can keep talking if you want.”

“Maybe I’d better go until you’re feeling better.” Patton brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair. It was starting to feel like he hadn’t showered, which was fair.

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?” Virgil mumbled, halfway asleep already.

“Of course, I can.”

# # #

Patton paced into the waiting room. Logan had texted him saying he was coming to pick him up. He thought that was a bit unnecessary, but it would be nice to not have to take the bus.

“Maybe Logan missed me.” Patton said to himself with a coy smile. “I guess we’ll have to pick up dinner on the way back.”

Patton slid into one of the uncomfortable chairs that normally furnished all waiting rooms. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe he’d just tune out for a minute.

“In other news we have conformation that the destruction of former mayoral candidate Payton Foster’s home last night was in fact arson. Traces of accelerant were found inside the house, leaving Mr. Foster himself as the prime suspect. Police believe he was attempting to destroy evidence of previous crimes for which he had been accused. His teenage son is reported to have escaped the fire with minor injury thanks to the actions of a heroic stranger. That’s quite the Disney convince, eh, Garbo?”

Patton glanced wearily at the TV as the reporter’s counterpart took over.

“But he’s not so strange anymore now Malloy. We did figure who he is. Seems that drama teacher slash community theater star Roman Lupine has gotten tired of the stage and is out there looking for drama in real life. That may suit Mr. Lupine, but I think here on Garbo and Malloy we would just stick to playing fictional heroes.”

Patton started looking for a remote to change the channel or just flat out turn this thing off. The publicity was bad enough, but he hated these guys’ banter. How did they even get this job?

“And of course, we all recognize Mr. Lupine from his press infiltration over a week ago.” Malloy droned.

“Speaking of the ShareBook incident, most of our sources believe that Foster’s brother will be taking custody of his son.” Garbo, who was aptly named countered. “But so far no one has been able to get a hold of any of them.”

“Well let’s hope Mr. Foster and his husband are prepared for their new son coming out as straight.” Malloy swung for the obvious joke.

The two trash goblins laughed like they were those guys from the Muppets and they mercifully changed the subject.

“Next up on Garbo and Malloy, Garbo and Malloy go dumpster diving.”

“Don’t come back.” Patton pleaded as he finally found the remote and shut the TV off. “And Thomas already told that joke.”

He slid back into a chair and sighed hard. How could anyone joke or bant about this? It was a little like saying Anne Frank was bad at hide and seek, it wasn’t funny. It was just tasteless. And were they making fun of Roman?

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a patient by the name of Foster.” Someone interrupted his brooding and worsened his mood.

“Are you family?” The receptionist countered.

“No, I’m with the press, I’d like to see if he or his current guardians are willing to do an interview.”

“Come back tomorrow.”

Not willing to do that, Patton his behind a chair until he was sure this man was gone.

# # #

The car ride home was saturated in a tense quiet for the first few minutes. With a look they all communicated exactly what they knew to one another. Unfortunately, they all knew a lot of the same things. Both Patton and Logan had at least fifty unchecked messages on their phones and Roman was in the back seat agitatedly sending out explanations to every single person in his contact list.

“How has everyone in Florida found out about this so quickly?” Roman sighed from his spot on the back. “One of my students texted me somehow knowing that I was in the hospital last night. I have never been so fed up with the age of information.”

“They were talking about you on Garbo and Malloy.” Patton added in a barely audible mumble.

“Were they reviewing the play?”

“No, they were talking about the fire.”

“Those two discuss current events?” Logan interrupted, sounding absolutely dumbfounded.

“Not very well.” Patton sighed. “They were making fun of Roman.”

“Oh, of course that were!” Roman barked. He then slid into a mimic of one of the reporters. “Next up on Garbage and Malloy, Garbage and Malloy let a child burn to death in a fire, ‘cause people who try to help are just attention seekers. hA ha Ha HA.”

“Several of your friends from work brought us food and expressions of good luck.” Logan added, evidently trying to change the subject.

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Patton melted into his seat. “All this talk of my brother was starting to make me doubt humanity.”

“Well,” Logan sighed. “I certainly hope you’re hungry.”

A question bounced back and forth between Logan and Roman. Well, more like the question. And the question took turns resting in their brains and mouths but remained unspoken.

“Patton,” Logan sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Did Payton actually…” He couldn’t say it.

“Yes.” Patton gagged on the words, they tasted vile. “He did.”

With that the silence returned.

#logicality #parental moxiety #parental anological #platonic LAMP #sanserssides #sanderssidesfic #Romile #hugs and cuddles

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the-small-one-to-rule-them-all · 5 years

Text

In and Out

(no, not the restaurant, like the closet)

summary: Patton is both in and out of the closet. Coming out isn’t a one time thing, and it isnt always your choice.

pairing: romantic Moxiety, romantic Logince

warnings: implied homophobia and transphobia, food mention, crying, yelling, panic attacks, not so implied homophobia, kissing mention. accidental outing, unaccepting parents

word count: 4,365

a/n: so, I have had this written for a long time and finally decided to publish it here. it feels like one of those stories that just has to see the light of day, ya know? Yes this is hurt/comfort I have a hard time writing much anything else lol. Enjoy!

Patton crumples, falling to his knees as the panic hits him. He can't do this. He feels his hands shaking and he whimpers as the world seems to press in around him. He tries to take a deep breath, failing he feels himself start hyperventilating, his breathing going as fast as his thoughts.

A knock on the door startles him, “Patton, are you ready to go yet?” Virgil asks, “We’re gonna be late if we don't leave soon.”

When he gets no answer, Virgil frowns, “Patton, are you okay?”

As Virgil hears Patton’s hiccuping breath, he opens the door. His stomach drops when he sees Patton curled against his mirror panicking. He rushes over and sits beside him, “Hey, Patt, it’s me. It’s okay. I'm gonna breathe and you try to copy me as best you can, okay?”

A nod.

Virgil breathes deeply and Patton’s gasping breaths follow the rhythm of his breathing. Slowly Patton starts to breathe normally as the panic starts to fade. Once Patton is calm enough, Virgil pulls him into a hug.

Patton wraps his hands around Virgil and sighs, “I can't go to the premiere, I can’t, 'm sorry.”

Virgil runs a hand through Patton’s hair, “Okay, that’s fine. I don't really like dinner parties anyway, but can you tell me why?”

Patton curls further into Virgil, “My... my parents will be there.”

“You didn't tell me they were coming.” Virgil says with a frown. Patton knows he gets anxious about those things, he would’ve told him, right?

Patton shakes his head, “I didn't know. My mother texted, told me they were going to the party, said they were hoping to see me.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I'm too busy and that we won't be able to meet up.”

Virgil sighs, “Listen, Patton, you’ve told me you don't have a great relationship with your parents, but for the thought of seeing them again to give you a panic attack that... that’s a lot. If, if you can ... would tell me why?”

Patton takes a shaky breath, “Virgil, when I left home, I wasn’t out to them at all. They don't know i'm gay, let alone that i'm trans, going by a different name and dating you. Though I suppose if I told them I'm dating you they would assume we’re a straight couple, but...” Patton sighs, “Virgil, they have no idea. They wouldn't be accepting if they knew. They, they would hate me and probably disown me.”

Virgil sighs and gives Patton a big hug. He pulls out his phone, “I’ll call Roman and Logan and make sure they know we’re not coming and figure out what to do about your parents, alright?”

Patton nods and Virgil dials.

Roman picks up the phone while styling his hair, “Hey there, calling to tell me you’re gonna be late, Prince of Panic?”

Virgil sighs, “Hey Roman, and no. Actually, Patton and I can't make it.”

“Oh, is there a reason?”

“Uh, yeah, did you know Patt’s parents are coming?” Virgil asks.

Roman frowns, “We heard they were going, yeah. We thought it might be a nice surprise.”

Virgil shakes his head, “Well, it’s a nice thought, but not exactly. You see, Patton isn't out to his parents, like, at all and apparently they’re super homophobic.”

“Oh my dear sweet Cole Sprouse. I'm so sorry, we didn't know.”

Virgil shrugs, “Don't worry about it, we know you meant well.”

“Wait, if they’re going to be at the premiere, how do we avoid outing Patt? I would hate to deadname him or use the wrong pronouns or anything. What should we do?”

Virgil frowns, “Uh, I don't know, that’s up to you.”

Roman sighs, “Wait they don't even know us. I guess we’ll just have to avoid mentioning you two.”

“Well, If you’re sure that will work then I guess it should be fine”

“I am.” Roman insists.

Virgil sighs, “Okay, Bye Princy. I’ll call Logan and let him know we can't make it.”

“Bye, tell Patton we’re sorry.” Roman asks.

“He already knows.” Virgil tells him with a small smile, looking down at Patton curled in his lap.

Virgil hangs up and calls Logan

“Hey Logan.”

“Hello Virgil. Why are you calling? Are you and Paton going to be late?”

“No, Logan, Patton and I won't be able to make it tonight.”

“Oh,” Logan blinks straightening his tie, “May I ask as to why?”

Virgil nods, “Sure. Patton isn't out to his parents at all and apparently they’re pretty homophobic.”

“Oh dear,” Logan clears his throat, “I am sorry about that, we had no idea, we thought it would be a nice surprise to have them there.”

Virgil smirks, “Well, Patt got a text from his parents saying they were looking forward to seeing him at the premiere, so it wouldn't be much of a surprise, but that’s fine.”

Logan’s eyes go wide, “Oh my, I do apologize for any bad things that might have brought up.”

Virgil shakes his head, “Don't worry about it, we know it didn’t happen on purpose. And Roman is making sure his speech doesn’t mention Pat, he is hoping no one will realize you know us.”

“What will happen if word gets around to his parents that we do?”

Virgil sighs, “I don't know but that’s gonna be your problem to deal with, not ours.”

Logan nods, “Fair enough. Have a good night, you two will be missed.”

“Thanks Logan, tell Roman we think he did absolutely wonderful in the show. And I think we will have a good night. I figured we would watch some movies and make a fort in the living room.”

Logan smiles, “I will. That certainly sounds entertaining, just make sure to eat some protein, I know you two tend to just eat apples and popcorn when you do that and I want to make sure you are taking care of yourselves.”

“I thought Patton was the Dad friend.” Virgil says with a laugh, “Don't worry Lo, we’ll eat some salami we have left over from lunches this week.”

Logan nods, “That is satisfactory. Well, I need to go, it’s time to leave and Roman isn't ready yet.”

“Bye Logan.”

“Goodbye.”

Virgil hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket, “Hey, why don't you get changed into your cat onesie and meet me downstairs with supplies for the fort? I’ll start getting all the furniture ready and set up the outside if you bring stuff for inside.”

Patton smiles up at him, eyes still watery, “That sounds good.”

An hour later they’re sitting side by side under a pile of blankets eating popcorn and watching Winnie the Pooh.

Patton wakes up to a knock at the door. He smiles as he looks over to see Virgil asleep in his skeleton onesie beside him. Patton rubs his eyes and stretches, getting up to turn on the coffee pot. He jumps as he hears the doorbell chime.

He looks through the peephole on the door and smiles, opening it wide, “Logan, Roman, what are you doing here?”

Logan lifts the large tupperware he is holding, “We thought we would bring over the leftovers from the premiere and share.”

Roman smiles, “Yeah, we thought we might give you two your own private party!” Patton grins, “Well that certainly is nice, but Virgil isn't up yet. Why don't you come in and I’ll go wake him up.”

“Patton, who are you talking to?” Virgil steps into the foyer with a cup of coffee in his hands, “Oh. Hi. I'm gonna-” Virgil points a thumb behind him.

Patton’s phone starts buzzing frantically in his pocket and he pulls it out. He looks at it and his face pales. He opens it and scrolls a bit.

Virgil sets his coffee down, “Patt, what’s wrong?” he asks.

Patton opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He clasps his hand over his mouth. His legs buckle. Roman catches him as he falls, dropping his phone.

“What’s wrong Padre? You okay?” Roman asks as he leans Patton against the wall.

“My- my dad.” Patton gulps and stares at his shaking hands, tears falling down his face, “He, he knows. They know. They know everything.”

Roman frowns, “How could they?”

Patton shakes his head “I don't know. I.. I..” He stops, panic taking over as his breathing shallows.

Virgil sits beside him and walks Patton through the breathing exercise Patton had done with him so many times.

Logan steps inside and stoops down, setting down the tupperware and picking up the phone. He scrolls through the messages from Patton’s father, a scowl on his face.

When Patton’s breathing returns to normal Virgil pulls him into a hug, “I’m sorry your parents are assholes.”

Patton chuckles dryly, “Thanks for the sentiment.”

Logan sighs, “Patton, did... Did you read all of these?”

Patton nods.

Logan shakes his head, “The nerve of some people. So ignorant, so dim witted. Good news is your dad hasn’t said any more since you dropped your phone.”

Patton frowns and takes a shaky breath, “That’s because he wants a response. Just leave him on read. He is so fluent in passive aggressive, he’ll know what it means.”

Roman takes the phone from Logan and quickly looks through the texts, “I want to call them, I have some choice words-”

“NO!” Patton yells, “Don't! Don't call them! It’ll only make all of this worse!”

Roman puts his hands up, “Alright, I'm sorry, I won't! It was just a joke, I promise.” Roman says handing the phone back to Logan.

Patton sighs, “I knew they would respond like this. There is a reason why I have almost never responded to a single call or text from them since I left home. I cut them out of my life. I'm not letting them back in.”

Logan hands the phone to Virgil and grabs the tupperware from where he had left it on the floor, “Would you two like to change while Roman and I set up a buffet of leftovers to take your mind off it?”

Patton wipes his eyes, “I appreciate the thought, but I don't think I could keep anything down.”

Virgil frowns, “What do you need from us Patton? How can we help?”

“Honestly,” Patton says staring at his lap, “I just wanna sit in the blanket fort and cry for a while.”

Roman nods and helps Virgil get Patton on his feet. Logan adjusts his glasses, “Let me put this in the fridge and I'll join you.”

Virgil smiles softly at him, “Bring water and juice boxes when you join us, will you?”

“Of course.”

Virgil, Roman, and Patton settle into the fort. Virgil moves the empty popcorn bowl and food plate on the table across the room before he takes his place on Patton’s left leaving Patton sandwiched between him and Roman.

Roman grabs the tissues from the corner where they had been discarded and hands them to Patton who gives him a small smile.

Logan appears moments later with juice boxes and water in hand. He sets the drinks down in front of the trio and sits beside Roman.

Patton puts his head in his hands and whimpers.

Virgil runs a hand through Patton’s hair, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s safe here. You can let it out.”

Patton gasps out a sob and Roman places a comforting hand on his back.

Patton puts his arms down, hunching in on himself, “It just hurts. I knew what they would say but it... it still hurts so bad. I hate that it hurts. I hate it! It shouldn't, I cut them out of my life. I didn't think he would say...I mean i'm his child. How could he say those things to me?:

“I mean, I guess, I... I thought maybe I wouldn't ever have to come out. I thought I could move away and never see them again. I thought they might never find out. I wasn't ready, I... I...” Patton stops, letting words give way to tears.

Virgil takes Patton’s glasses off his face and hands them to Logan who places them on the table next to him. Patton manages to squeeze out a thank you and Virgil wraps his arm around Patton’s shoulders.

They sit there for a while until Patton calms down to sniffles and hiccuping breaths.

Roman removes his hand from Patton’s back, handing Patton a juice box before placing it next to the other in his lap. “It’s okay that this hurts.” Roman says, looking at his hands, “Even though you knew what they’d say. It always hurts. It never gets easier to hear someone say those sorts of things to you, especially if it’s someone you wish would be supportive, someone that should accept you-.” Roman’s voice breaks and he sighs, tears falling down his cheeks.

Patton opens the juice box and drinks as he talks. When Roman finishes he looks up at him, “You... you too?”

Roman nods, “My parents, they always said they would never go to a gay wedding, not even for their own son, god forbid he end up that way.” Logan grabs Roman’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, “Needless to say, when they saw a picture of Logan and I on Facebook, they did not take it very well. The looks on their faces that day when I went home, the horrible things they said, I remember all of it. I'm so sorry you have to go through that too.”

After a long moment Patton whispers, “Does it ever stop hurting?”

Roman closes his eyes tight and whispers a pained, “No.”

Patton sighs, wrapping his arm around Roman and leaning against his shoulder.

Roman shakes his head, “This is all my fault. I never should've even suggested we let your parents come, much less without asking you. I'm so sorry.”

Patton sighs, “You couldn't have possibly known. I mean, I would've liked it if you had asked me, but you were trying to do something nice for me. I appreciate the sentiment. I appreciate that you would want to do something like that for me.”

“Yeah, but the intent doesn't really matter if I screwed it all up.” Roman insists.

“We don't know that we caused this.” Logan reminds him, “We don't even know how Patton’s parents found out. It could've happened completely separate from the premiere, and the timing led us to believe they were connected.”

Roman sighs, “I guess you’re right Specs.”

Patton and Virgil jump as Patton’s ringtone starts playing. Virgil pulls the phone out of his pocket and his eyes go wide, “Patton, it’s... it’s your mom.”

Patton starts to panic, “I can't answer right now! I'm a mess! Why is she calling? What does she want from me?”

Virgil declines the call. He puts the phone down and his hands in the air, “There, it’s over. We don't have to worry about it.”

Patton takes a deep breath and nods, calming down. Then the phone starts ringing again.

Patton shakes his head, eyes wide, “No, no, no, no, no, no!”

Virgil declines the call.

Patton’s mom leaves a voicemail.

“Do... do you wanna listen to it?’

Patton doesn’t respond for a minute. Slowly he nods, lifting the phone to his ear and pressing play.

“Hello dear, it’s your mom. I know us finding out about all of this has to be a shock for you, and probably a painful one at that. I know you must be upset right now, but I just want to talk to you. I haven’t heard from you in so long, please. I... I just want to talk.”

Patton sets the phone down as the message ends, “That... wasn't as bad as I was expecting.”

Virgil nods, “That’s good.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Patton shakes his head, “No. I need a minute to think.”

They settle into a heavy but comfortable silence. They rest in one another’s company, knowing that they all support each other.

Ten minutes later Patton’s phone rings again. They all stare at it for a few ring cycles, surprised she would call again.

Patton’s lip trembles, “I'm gonna answer it.”

“What?!” Virgil asks incredulous.

“Just give me the phone.” he insists.

Virgil hands him the phone and Patton takes a deep steadying breath before answering. When he speaks, they are all taken aback by how calm he sounds.

“Hello, mother,” he says, “This is Patton. If you are calling to tell me your thoughts on how the lifestyle I have chosen is wrong or to invalidate me, insult me, or try to get me to change, just hang up now. I've heard it all a million times before. So please, if that’s what you want from me, just leave before you make me go through the pain of that again.”

There’s a pause and Patton sighs, looking at the phone. Surprised to see his mom hasn't hung up yet he puts the phone back to his ear.

“Lu-” she clears her throat, “Patton, son, are you still there?” his mom asks.

Patton gasps shakily, a tear falling down his face, “Mom?”

“Oh, thank you for answering. I'm so sorry everything happened this way.” she says.

“You’re... You’re calling me by my new name?!” Patton says with a smile.

The others share a look and leave to give Patton some space.

“Of course I'm calling you by your name. Why on earth wouldn't I?” his mom asks.

“I... I didn't think you would approve.” he admits

“Of your name?”

Patton shrugs, “Of my name. Of me. Of being trans and gay. Of not coming out to you.”

His mom sighs, “Oh. Patton, dear, I'm so sorry.”

“What?” Patton asks, confused.

“I know the things your father has been saying to you, and I know it can't be easy to hear from him. And I'm sorry. But more than that, i'm sorry I never made you feel like you could be comfortable around me, like you couldn't be yourself, couldn't come out. You don't have to be afraid. I'm your mom, I love you and nothing is going to change that. Nothing. Not you being trans, or gay, or bi or anything else. I love you.”

Patton breaks down sobbing.

“Oh, honey i'm sorry i'm not there to give you a hug. Why don't you go get a hug from someone? I think I hear your friends in the background, right? Go get a hug, please.”

Patton manages a laugh as Virgil appears at the front of the blanket fort looking concerned. He makes a grabby hand at him. Virgil gives him a smile and sits next to him. Patton gives him a big hug, letting go when he calms down.

“Did you get your hug?” his mom asks.

“Yeah mom, I did.”

“Good.”

“Hey mom?”

“Yes Patton?”

“How, how did you find out?” he asks.

“Oh,” she sighs, “Well, when we realised we weren’t going to see you in person we kinda stalked you on social media, or we tried. We didn't know to look for your new name so we went through your friends pages looking for pictures of you. We didn't recognise you at first. We realised it was you when we saw a picture of you and... Virgil I believe is his name and a few of your other friends at a party. You two were kissing. If I'm being honest with you, it was a rather cute picture.”

Patton groans, “Oh that picture?!”

“Is there something wrong with that picture?” she asks.

“No but if I was gonna come out to you with a picture on Facebook that one definitely wouldn't be my first choice.” Patton insists, hearing Virgil laugh quietly next to him.

“Well i'm sorry, but I can't change that now. Perhaps you can send me better pictures sometime.” his mom suggests.

“I could do that.” Patton agrees.

“I uh, I'd like to see you again, Patton, if you’d let me. We could catch up, you could come out to me on your own terms, however you want to, showing me whatever pictures you want. We could meet at that little restaurant we used to always go to for milkshakes and have lunch or something. Would, would you want to do that?” she asks hesitant yet, hopeful.

Patton smiles, “I would like that. Does Tuesday work for you?”

“Lunch on Tuesday is perfect.”

“It’s a plan. I’ll see you there.” Patton says.

“See you there. Love you, son.”

“I love you too, mom.” Patton hangs up grinning wide.

Patton stands up and pulls Virgil out of the fort rushing over to the others. He grabs Roman by the hands and spins in a circle laughing, still crying from the rush of it all.

“I take it the phone call went well then.” Logan says with a chuckle.

Patton stills, dropping Roman’s hands and facing the others as they stand around the table. “She called me her son. She used my new name. She said she loves me.” He whispers, tears of joy falling from his face.

“That’s amazing!” Roman exclaims, beaming and wrapping Patton in the biggest hug he can give him.

Patton feels another set of arms wrap around him, then another. He chuckles, “Well, today has been an emotional rollercoaster and I haven't even been up for two hours.”

Roman smiles, “Don't you love rollercoasters?”

Patton lets go of the hug, “Yeah, but I think I'm ready to get off the ride now.”

Logan rolls his eyes, “You hungry Patton? It's been a while and you haven't had breakfast yet.”

Patton wipes his eyes, “I am hungry, I hadn't realised. What did you guys bring over? Anything breakfast worthy, or do I need to make myself some eggs?”

(bonus scene)

Patton taps his fingers on the mug of hot chocolate in his hands. He looks around, his mom should be here soon. He sighs and takes a sip of his hot chocolate when he hears the door open and sees his mom walk in. He wipes his mouth and sets down the cup, standing to face her. She turns to see him and smiles. She walks briskly over to Patton wrapping him in the biggest hug. She kisses the top of his head bringing a hand up to hold the back of his head.

“I love you.” she whispers.

Patton smiles, “I love you too.”

She finally lets go, holding Patton by his shoulders at arms length, “Let me look at you.”

Patton blushes and looks away. She puts a hand under his chin and lifts his head to look her in the eyes. “You look very handsome. I like your hair, it suits you, but more importantly, you look confident and happy. You look so much happier than you ever did at home.”

“I am happy, Mom.” Patton says.

“Good, now why don't we sit”

Patton chuckles, “Okay.”

They sit and his mom orders a coffee.

“I would ask if you like anyone or if you’ve kissed anyone yet, but I think I already know the answer to that.”

Patton smiles, “I... thanks. That means a lot.”

“Now, why don't we sort this all out, and you come out to me properly, hmm?”

Patton nods, “So what would be easiest? Should I go by chronologically how I figured it out or by label and tell the stories potentially out of order?”

She smiles, “Start at the beginning, it’ll be easier for you to keep track that way.”

Patton takes a deep breath, “Okay, well, do you remember that one time in middle school-”

“Wait, you never told me, are you and Virgil dating?”

Patton smiles, “Yeah, I thought it was obvious.”

His mom sits forward, chin in her hands, “So, how long have you two been a thing?”

Patton starts to blush a bit, “It has been a while, maybe two years.”

His mom nods, “Is he treating you well? He loves you?”

Patton nods, “Yes mom, he is so good. He sat and helped me through a panic attack just this morning, he knows my favorite food and makes it for me on days where he notices I'm not feeling well, and most of all, he loves me. He really, really loves me. And I love him too.”

“Well he certainly sounds like a good man. I hope he knows that if he ever hurts you he is going to have to answer to me.” His mom insists, pointing to herself for emphasis.

Patton blushes and shakes his head, “Mom, he knows he’s going to have to answer to several people already! He hasn’t even met you!”

His mom shrugs, “Well, maybe one day you could introduce us, preferably before your wedding day.”

“MOM!” Patton groans fondly, “Come on, you’ve known about him for just a few days! But yes, eventually you two can meet. However, I can't just spring that on him! I don't want your first interaction to be him having a panic attack.”

“That’s fair sweetheart... can I call you sweetheart?”

“Yeah Mom, you can call me sweetheart, and don't worry, you’ll meet him.”

“Well thank you for the reassurance.” His mom stretches her arms, sparing a glance at her watch, “Oh my is that the time? I need to go home and clean up before I make dinner!”

“Well then I’ll let you go.”

“See you later Pat. I love you.”

Patton smiles, “I love you too, and mom, thank you.”

She smiles sadly and hugs him, “Of course dear, you will always be my child. I love you no matter what. Remember that, okay?”

“Okay.” Patton nods.

His mom gathers her things and leaves and Patton heads to his car once she pulls away. By the time he gets back to the house he is only just holding back tears.

Virgil opens the door to him and Patton immediately throws himself into Virgil’s arms and begins to cry.

Virgil holds him and closes the door with his foot, turning his concern to the man in his arms. “Hey, are these happy or sad tears Pat?”

“So-o Ha-apy” Patton manages.

Virgil smiles and hugs Patton tighter, “Good, I'm glad.”

#hobbit writes #moxiety #logince #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts fic #homophobia tw #crying cw #food mention #yelling cw #someone is outed accidentally #hurt comfort #human au #everyone is gay #i hope yall like it #i wrote a cute fic yall

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giurochedadomani · 4 years

Text

Three days on a drunken sin

Anthony Crowley went to a party. He doesn’t remember much of it, but waking up in a hospital bed to Ezra’s pitiful eyes is etched on his mind. After a long summer of avoidance, he saves the day and Ezra’s new job at the old Tadfield library.

TAGS: Pre-Slash, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Human!AU: University, TW: drug use, TW: overdose, TW: suicide attempt, TW: characters having an homophobic family

The blue from the police lights reflects over the Central Tadfield Library sign, old and a tad cracked, making it look as if it were about to fall down on the rests of the storefront. A couple of agents dock down on their way out, as do the handcuffed wannabe robbers they’re pushing.

Crowley kneels, picks up the book, sees again the title —bloody Hamlet— and snorts. He offers it to Ezra.

Their hands touch when the other grabs it. Crowley’s just a tad too glad that he doesn’t drop it.

“That was awfully nice of you”.

Crowley feels a bit hot around the collar and suspects it might not have everything to do with the pulsing pain of the bruise on his left cheek. He deflects by glaring for good measure at the big, burly detective taking Mrs. Tracy’s statement, but he seems so enthralled as to pay them any attention.

“Very. Very cool”.

“Oh, shut it”, he murmures back.

He gives Ezra a side glance. It’s aiming for a glare and falls miserably short. His stomach does a weird thing when he sees the other’s soft smile as he flips the pages of the book. He feels a little bit dumb and a whole lot ridiculous at how, ugh, mushy ‘very. Very cool’ makes him. He misses his glasses, broken in the scuffle Ezra and him had gone into with the robbers.

Continue reading in AO3 or here.

He wills his left knee to stop moving. He ends up getting up from the sofa just to stop the nervous taps on the floor. Ezra asks: “How did you know that I was working here?”

Anathema had told him. She had done so subtly at first and with increasingly elaborate threats then to coax him to make amends with Ezra through the whole summer.

(Crowley can’t remember anything but the blinding lights of the ambulance, a cacophony of shouts from his parents and Ezra’s pitiful eyes before waking up on the hospital bed.

“Well, you really shouldn’t be here. I mean, given how many other people you have to fraternize with—”)

“I didn’t. I happened to be in the neighbourhood”. It has happened a couple of times before. That is, Crowley going so far as to reach the neighbouring park before bolting on the whole idea. Showing up just as the gang decided to strike the library hasn’t been about pure chance, though.

“My spidey senses just tingled”.

“Ah”. Ezra’s soft smile fades down a bit. Crowley feels an inexplicable pang of guilt. “Well. I’m glad about your spider senses. I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t show up, my dear. I suppose that I got myself into a very tight spot”.

Mrs. Tracy laughs. She then shoves a hand over her mouth, appalled. She looks apologetically at the detective, who very chivariously tells her that there’s nothing to apologize for.

Crowley fixates on how much that makes him gag so he won’t pay attention at how his mind won’t stop echoing ‘my dear’.

“It’s spidey, not spider. You know it’s spidey”, he chides him. It doesn’t have any real bite to it, though. He glances again at Ezra and spots that little self satisfied smile that he sports after being annoying on purpose. His heart clenches suddenly at the immensity of the feeling of how much he has missed it.

“Does pretending to be from two centuries ago still help you around here?”, he asks, as nonchalant as he can manage. He rests his back on the counter.

“I’ll have you know that Mrs. Tracy appreciates my tastes, as démodé as you may find them”. Ezra replies, petulantly. He purses his lips and adds: “And modernizing doesn’t necessary have to equal obscure comic book knowledge, you know?”

Crowley scoffs. Thinks I’ll give you obscure.

Ezra ignores him: “I’ve been keeping myself up to date as of late, if you must know. I—”, he hesitates. Crowley takes on his set shoulders, that proud grin. He thinks about how utterly adorable he looks as he doubles down on his resolve and—

A phone rings. An 8 bit version of something classical. That’s— Beethoven?

Crowley fishes the thing out of the floor, vibrating half hidden among books. It looks like an old Blackberry or something equally egregious. He flips it in his hand, spots the cracked screen and… he sees the screen saver, a bad selfie of Ezra kissing some guy’s cheek.

(“Someone like me? How exactly is someone like me? No, describe it. Do you honestly think that I deserve to get treated—”.

“I worry about you”.

“And now you sound like them. I only asked— At the very least have the guts to tell me that you think that this is a punishment—”.

“You’re putting words in my mouth that I haven’t said”.

“That’s the problem! You never say anything. So long for that being on your side shit when you won’t stand up when I need someone to do it”)

Crowley doesn’t even move when Ezra, beet red, grabs the phone out of his hand and answers.

“Hi, I— Yes. Yes. Both of us. I was about to call you to tell you about it, in fact”, he nods to nothing. “Well, Police has been interrogating us up until now. How have you heard about it, anyway? In the—?”, a whisper of something and then: “The what!? Yes, yes, I swear to— Look, given the circumstances it’s something that I’m able to promise, yes”.

Crowley just— stays there. With the image of the screen saver seared into his mind. The guy’s tall, dark haired, good looking, all draped in finery. Ezra’s honest to Someone giggling. Crowley feels as if someone has just dropped a bucket of cold water over his shoulders. As if someone has just punched all air out of his lungs.

“I— yes, the moment I get home”, continues Ezra. He lowers his voice: “Yes, me too”.

He ends the call.

One of the agents asks something to Mrs. Tracy and then helps her to close the storefront, hiding the broken glass under the metal sheet. After the creaks stop, Ezra tries a joke, pinpointing the phone: “I figured at some point of another I would have to let go of telegrams”.

The guy is probably refined and shit. He can picture him, a veritable dandy, dressed like a sir and philosophizing about morality while analyzing literary classics. Most likely, his vices limit themselves to cigarettes and the occasional brandy glass at parties. Surely, his police records are stainless.

He’s truly glad for Ezra.

Brimming with joy.

He pinpoints the old mobile: “You’ve nailed down the century, angel. Now all that is left to nail down is the decade”. He puts so much effort into not sounding as hollow as he feels, that he expends a few seconds without realizing exactly what has he called the other and only does so when Ezra looks away.

Crowley’s stomach sinks to the floor and then lower, a truly stupid, over sensitive move on his part—

“He’s a— well, a friend”.

(“You haven’t been able to admit that we’re friends. Not once”

Ezra looks away. He ducks his head. His voice wavers when he says—)

Crowley buries the memory quickly and mercilessly. He was a manipulative asshole that day. Ezra’s not the one to blame for Crowley’s devotion, nor his very private daydreams —so obviously out of touch with reality, given what he is, what tears them apart— about what a friendship might develop into.

“You don’t owe me any explanation”.

He tries to swallow the bile down his throat.

“Crowley, I—”.

The point is— he didn’t even know that Ezra might, in this world and life, be interested. That there was any potential to explore. That Ezra, well, is interested in guys. A part of him cannot stop ruminating about how it’s his fault. That he’s somehow lacking— he’s always lacking. That he was, well, truly pathetic to even secretly entertain the possibility.

He stands up and recollocates his jeans, trying not to wince when his bruised hands grab the rough fabric. “I’m going home”.

Ezra’s face falls. He looks away, frowning a little, pouting, his lower lip trembling slightly. Crowley’s convinced that if Ezra were looking up, his eyes would beautifully shine with unshed tears. He feels as if he has just committed genocide, or kicked an overgrown, blonde puppy with eyes as blue as the sky. He gives in, refrains the urge to sigh and asks: “Do you want a lift?”

Ezra does a double take. Then, he smiles. And it’s like grabbing a soft blanket and getting near the fireplace on a rainy day and corny shit like that.

Crowley feels a frustration almost as deep as the warmth in his chest.

Soon they find themselves in Crowley’s car, with him following Ezra’s directions across town and being just a tad too glad that he doesn’t have to explain why does he know where they are going.

Wait, no. Come back! He just means— Anathema’s new flame lives next door, okay? He’s not a creep.

“So you basically stole a bunch of books”.

“I didn’t steal anything. I acquired them. With hard work”.

“You’ve just told me that you went into a— well, a sort of manhunt of prophecy books, coercing their previous owners into giving them to you almost for free”.

“Coerce, now that’s a strong word. Suggest, if anything. Let it slide— Could you please go slower, my dear!”.

“Manipulated, more likely. Deceived”.

Ezra shots him a glare, baffled.

“It’s hardly my fault if they didn’t do the proper research before our negotiations!”

“I don’t know if that would stand in a courtroom”.

“Well, if you’re just going to ponder the legal ramifications of my job I might just ask you to drop me here and go the rest of the way back on foot”.

“Now, there’s no need for rush decisions”.

“Well, you’re the one rushing!”

Crowley smirks, takes a turn left a little to quickly to make it perfectly legal and tries hard not to laugh at how Ezra squirms. “I’m just— admiring the skill where it’s due”, he says, after a moment of silence. “It must have been very difficult to get the opportunity to negotiate with those antique dealers. To prepare a convincing speech that fit every occasion”.

“If that’s sarcasm, I swear, my dear—”

“Oh, gosh, no. I’ve seen you in action. I don’t doubt for a moment that you can be pretty persuasive”.

(“So, what am I supposed to tell them? ‘Oh, no, I’m sorry, but I won’t make it, you guys, I’ve plans of spending all night long curing the boredom of this blondie, you see’. Wait a minute, I’m so definitely texting them that”.

“Crowley! You’re making me look like a wanton thing”.

“Are you blond? Check. Did you convince me that spending the night here was way more interesting than putting up with Bee and their friends? Also check. Did you do so because you’re bored as hell? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a triple check! I fail to see how am I misrepresenting the truth here”.

“You know that they won’t think that! If you send them that they will assume that— They will think that we—”

Crowley has the smartphone in a hand, a glass of wine in the other. That, next to Ezra’s white jumper, will prove itself to be an accident in the making in mere seconds. An accident that Ezra will have only to vaguely battle his eyelashes to to get Crowley try his hardest to solve.

“Now, what will they exactly think?”

“Give me the mobile, Crowley!”)

Crowley smile falters. He drops the banter: “Doing something quite as reckless as inviting potential robbers of those books into your bookshop, now, I wouldn’t have pinpointed you as someone who’d do that”.

He sees out of the corner of his eye how Ezra ducks his head and looks out of the window. “I was supposed to get help”.

Ah, yes. Crowley remembers the girl of the library, the one who has played Ezra’s partner in crime before snitching on him to the gang. The one Ezra hadn't imagined betraying him because he wouldn’t be capable of doing something like that to someone else, so why would her do it to him. He changes gears, keeps his eyes on the road and answers, as if in an afterthought: “Next time you plan on turning yourself and your books into bait, maybe— well, if you need a backup, a proper backup, just ask me”.

He feels more than sees Ezra’s eyes snapping back at him, and that’s more than anything out of the flush that creeps over his neck. He feels his palms sweaty, his heart beating wildly. He preemptively puts up his shields, thinks a myriad of variants of ‘I only say it so you don’t make a fool out of yourself’ and is only halfway dissapointed when Ezra changes tracks to ask: “How did you find out about the strike?”

Crowley opens his mouth, thinks about explaining how Lucius had told him in no uncertain terms to follow the gang if he wanted to keep the job. He thinks about what Ezra would tell him if he mentioned the Inferno gardening shop and its shady backroom deals altogether. He shuts his mouth.

Ezra, who can read him back to back, doesn’t even need him to put it into words. He jumps to the worse conclusion, though: “Did he... order it?”

Wait, what?

“No. He— I heard them talk about you, okay? He—”, Crowley sighs, “Okay, he told me to follow them. That’s when I heard them talking about this library, this old and weird ass librarian, and the blondie, fussy young man who helped her and, well. I pieced things together and then...”

“And you decided to come to my rescue”.

Crowley risks a quick look over. Ezra looks… kind of amused. He doesn’t know what to make out of it. His gut reaction is to tone down the statement: it’s not as if he suddenly has turned into some sort of knight in shining armour. Or that he deserves to be praised like one.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything, mainly because a hand chooses that exact momento to gently squeeze his arm, and that stops altogether his train of thought.

“You can stop wherever you can. It’s over there”, Ezra explains, pinpointing the same large block of buildings in front of which he dropped Anathema a couple of weeks before. Crowley parks, not too far away. He hopes that Ezra will invite him over. Maybe make a big show of how irresponsible is to let a drive drive that late, perhaps chide at his reckless ignorance of road manners. Something that lets him a teeny, tiny opportunity not to have to say goodbye.

“Well, thank you for—”

He rolls his eyes.

“Ezra”.

“But I’m grateful for what you’ve done! It was... nice seeing you again”.

It’s the wild, blind hope in his chest what makes him take a deep breath, braze himself for the impact and say: “You know, Hamlet. There’s ah— They’re doing Hamlet. The guys in— Shit, well, I mean”, he backpedals. Starts again, trying to say it so it makes sense. Subject, verb, complements. Come on, you can do it! “The new community theatre downtown? Some friends of mine are doing Hamlet there. They’re not— Oscar worthy, or anything, but they’re also not rubbish. And there’s a bar near, they make some pretty mean pizzas. Italian authentic recipe, all artsy. We could—”.

“I can’t”.

Crowley clasps his mouth shut.

“Right”.

He blinks a few times, keeps his eyes away, tries to will the sharp sting away.

“Crowley, I’m not ashamed of you. I just— I can’t, okay?”

Ezra squeezes his hand for a moment.

Crowley won’t cry.

“Okay, angel”, he manages.

Ezra grabs his bag and gets out of the car. He doesn’t manage to move until he sees him disappear through the entrance hall.

It doesn’t happen that night. Nor the morning after. He’s got to wait up until the afternoon shift at the Inferno for Bee to call him to the back room and hand him the shop’s phone. It’s humid in the backroom, it clings to his clothes. It almost chokes him when he hears a sweet, deep voice tell him: “You’ve got guts to show up, that I have to admit it. I’ve seen you worse for wear, though. Is that how you pay your shots now, scuffles?”

(“My brother is—”

“An idiot? A petty bastard who didn’t outgrow the bully phase?”)

“I wouldn’t stick around if I were you, our parents don’t take to too gently to your kind. Neither do I, if we’re being honest. If you want to ruin your life, that’s your problem. But the last thing we need is you dragging Ezra down with you. Specially, after what he did to get you back to school”.

Ba-dum-thud. His heart skips a beat.

“I’m going to take your little chat from last night as an aberration to the rule, but needless to say, I don’t want you to go near him ever again. Or else, there will be consequences. And you know for experience that I do follow up my words”. A pause. “Do we have an arrangement?”

Ire cloughs his throat. He’s got the phone in a death grip.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Have a nice day, Crawley”.

He hangs up.

Crowley waits one tone, two tones, before his body reacts and he stomps the phone on the receiver wishing that it was not a phone, but a certain someone’s face. Bee refrains mid-sentence to tell him how he’s going to have to pay it if he breaks.

He paces back to the front of the shop, feeling disgusted with himself, and only partially because after being at the back room he’s pooling in sweat. His mind is lost to the present, racing through images of him burning with rage at the hospital, screaming at Ezra to fuck off, to images of him burning with rage at the police station, being questioned, to images of him burning with rage at the director’s office, being told with a stern voice and pitiful eyes that even if Crowley will not be expelled for the incident, if he continued down this road, it’d probably cost him way more than his academic possibilities and he knows that . He knows there’s a missing piece in there, somewhere, though he cannot for the love of Someone pinpoint where is it. There’s the familiar weight of guilt in his stomach and a question which echoes through his brain.

What the fuck did he do?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #Crowley #Aziraphael #myfics

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damndaehyung · 4 years

Text

Level 7 Friendship

JTMD AU Includes: Daniel, Tyler

“Tyler Lee, just the man I was looking for,” Daniel greeted Tyler as he spotted walking across campus alone. Tyler spun around with an unimpressed look on his face, an eyebrow cocked up as he looked over at Daniel. Daniel smiled sheepishly pretending to fix his beret but really it was to turn on the stupid camera the girls had insisted he wear.

“Really because i had the distinct feeling that you were avoiding me?” Tyler said, his posture radiating annoyance. “What happened to okay we will try to be friends? You know I was going out of my way to make an effort,” he continued, his hand going to his waist making Daniel feel like was definitely getting scolded.

“Oh,” Daniel said softly, looking down. “So Tara didn’t tell you?” he asked looking up with wet eyes. Caleb had always told Daniel that his acting classes would come in handy, Daniel never imagined it would be like this.

“Tell me what?” Tyler asked with a frown.

“Oh my god this is so embarrassing,” Daniel whined dramatically. “Forget it,” he said, turning around, counting down in his three, two, one.

“Hey no,” Tyler said, grabbing his wrist. Daniel smirked inwardly, this was going easier then he thought it would be. “You can tell me, whatever it is, I promise I won't judge,” Tyler said softly, Daniel knew he was trying to be a supportive friend but there was the tiniest hint of hopefulness to his tone which threw Daniel for a loop.

“Oh no you got it wrong, it’s not embarrassing for me it’s embarrassing for you,” Daniel said pulling out of Tyler’s grasp. “Look your girlfriend-” he said, watching as Tyler’s brows furrowed. Maybe he was wondering which one Daniel was referring to it must be hard to keep your stories straight when you are dating several people all at once. “She told me to stay away from you in a more colourful way,” he admitted with a frown.

“Also she is kinda homophobic, implying that only reason i would even want to know you is because i want to get in your pants like gay men can never have actual male friends, also now that i think about it it’s kinda insulting to you because she is implying that only noteworthy thing about you is your body,” he paused him ‘ramble’ to look Tyler up and down. “Which i am sure is a very lovely body but it's kinda mean,” he shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you because I know you had a bad break up and who am i to judge your rebound,” he said.

“My girlfriend said that to you?” Tyler asked with a frown. “I don’t have a girlfriend -” he explained.

“Well someone better tell Maurice that because she told me you two were destined to get married and if i get in the way of that -” he said, making a throat-slitting motion.

“Do you mean Maude?” he asked, if he looked annoyed before then he was straight up angry now. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were narrowed and his hands were balled up into fists.

“Is she a brunette, brown eyes, about ye high?” Daniel said, gesturing for how high he believed Maude to be. Tyler nodded a grimace on his face.

“Look, Daniel,” he statred, “She isn’t my girlfriend, she is my ex,” he explained.

“I thought you said her name was Minah,” Daniel pointed out.

“Yes, that was my most recent ex, Maude is a little while ago,” Tyler said. “Look our break up was kinda messy, i admit i was - it was just bad but Maude had always been a good friend to me before we were together so we agreed to be friends but she is-”

‘“Kinda you know-” he said making a crazy gesture with his hand.

“No,” Tyler shoved him playfully, “I think she keeps hoping for something that won’t happen,” he said. “I am really sorry though she had no right to say any of that to you,” he said once again reaching out and grabbing Daniel’s hands. Daniel smiled stepping back and effectively freeing his hands once more

“Yeah it’s not your fault,” Daniel said. “Don’t worry about it,” he said waving dismissively

“So you said you were looking for me?” Tyler asked curiously.

“Yes, so firstly are you free on Thursday?” Daniel asked.

“Depends on the time?” Tyler said

“Morning, around 10-ish?”

“Yeah I should be,” Tyler said. “What do you have in mind?” he asked,

“Crossfit,” Daniel said. “My friend has roped me into going to a class? Is it a class? With her and her boyfriend and you look pretty fit,” he said as Tyler smirked. “Oh stop smirking I meant like healthy,” Daniel said with an eye roll. “So hopefully you can distract them when I surely collapse by actually being good at you know… gym stuff,” he said.

“Awww,” Tyler cooed. “Sweetie, I think you need to work on your stamina,” he said with a teasing grin. “You want to come to practice this week? I can help you get ready for it, you know make you last longer than a minute?” He smirked, the double innuendo was not lost on Daniel.

“I don’t know why I would go to you if I wanted someone who could last-“ Daniel rolled his eyes. “Anyway is that a yes?” he continued.

“Don’t worry I got your back” Tyler said. “And I always last,” he grinned.

————

“So you want to explain to me why you bought Tyler Lee along?” Mia asked as they found seats at the cafe just near her boyfriend's gym for a ‘light lunch’. Daniel let out a groan making vague hand gestures, he didn’t want to talk, talking hurt, everything hurt. Why his supposed friend wanted and successfully tortured him was beyond him. “Are you friends?” she continued to ask Daniel let out a noise that he hoped sounded like a well. “Okay are you fucking?” she asked as Daniel flopped in a chair wincing as his body ached, glaring at her, he shook his head. So said friend not only tortures him but insults him. “Okay okay,” she held her hands up in defence.

“What are we talking about?” Mia’s boyfriend Topher said as he and Tyler sat down placing the table number down.

“My funeral,” Daniel whined. “I’m dead, maybe not literally yet -it’s coming though, - but figuratively,” he said resting his head against his palms. The table laughed at his pain, did he expect from the two traitors and some who choose to go by the worst half of a Christopher.

“Aww dude you didn’t even do that bad,” Topher said, his name is Topher and he says the word dude. Daniel would hate him if he didn’t look like he could bench press him and have the personality of a large golden retriever, bigger than necessary but oddly lovable.

“Yeah so what if you didn’t finish the workout,” Mia said biting back a giggle as Tyler patted his back humming in mock sympathy.

“You lasted longer than I expected,” Tyler commented. Their supposed support and praise was nothing but sugar-coated arsenic. Daniel looked up glaring at the pair causing them to both laugh even more.

“The first time is awkward for everyone,” Topher said as sincerely as possible, despite his well-meaning attempts to defend him, Tyler and Mia, like the filthy-minded fools they were, burst out laughing. “No seriously most first-timers don't do well, at least he didn’t pull a muscle,” he continued.

“Aww babe never change,” Mia said beaming at him, interlocking their hands. Daniel’s nose scrunched up, ah couples - disgusting. “At the very least Daniel had three guys offering to give him CPR if he really needed it,” she said with a grin. Daniel grinned, that was true, the only good thing about gyms was the guys.

“I am the only one who got any numbers,” Daniel nodded. “Even after Tyler's little striptease he still got no numbers,” he grinned, nudging the boy beside him. “Oh it's so hot let me just take my top off,” he said mockingly.

“Topher and several other guys had their shirts off,” Tyler pointed out. “Seems the only one who noticed was you,” he smirked.

“You wish, I was in too much pain to even look at you,” Daniel sighed. “But i am sure it was a great show even if you didn’t get any numbers, maybe you should show some leg next time,” he teased. Daniel was saved from whatever witty comeback Tyler was going to throw his way by a waitress showing up and putting their drinks down, her eyes staying on Tyler the whole time.

“Maybe i will get that number after all,” Tyler smirked.

“Is this foreplay for you guys?” Topher asked, causing Daniel to spit out his drink, grabbing napkins he quickly wiped up his drinks. “I am sorry was that too blunt? I just don’t get why you would be okay with your boyfriend getting other people’s numbers,” he said. Mia once again started to giggle.

“Oh no- “ Daniel said, shaking his head a little too quickly if the ache in his neck was anything to go by, “We aren’t a couple,’ he said pointedly. “We are just friends - Ty is straight like Captain of the baseball team, head frat boy, has multiple crazy ex-girlfriends type of straight,” Daniel said.

“Basketball and no crazy ex-girlfriends but the sentiment is right,” Tyler explained. “But if we were, I would win clearly,” he said.

“Firstly who cares they all have a ball involved, two at the very least ONE crazy girlfriend and three if we were a couple i’d be the hot one who gets all the numbers,” Daniel said taking a sip of his juice, smiling as he nibbled on the straw.

“If i was your boyfriend other guys wouldn’t be brave enough to give you their numbers,” Tyler said. Daniel rolled his eyes, having a boyfriend had never stopped someone from giving him their numbers before. He couldn’t see how Tyler Lee would be able to stop them.

“Are you sure you two aren’t -” Topher said, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely sure,” Daniel cut him off as the waitress came back with their food, as expected her number was tucked in Tyler’s napkin. “I am still winning,” Daniel said in a sing-song voice as Tyler rolled his eyes scrunching the number up and tossing it onto the street once the waitress had turned around and started walking back inside the cafe. Daniel’s brows furrowed leaning across to whisper what he is doing. If he was going to play the game, he had to act like he believed Tyler was heartbroken .” She could have been a good rebound,” he whispered.

“Eat your food,” Tyler whispered back. Daniel rolled his eyes shaking his head, turning his attention to his food.

The rest of their brunch continued on pretty pleasantly. Topher and Tyler continued to talk sport, something Daniel couldn’t care less about. Mia told them all about her production of Much To Do About Nothing was going and how her sorority was having problems with some of the freshman, Tyler decided to offer his expertise on the subject. It was easy to forget the pain he was going through when they were having a good time but once lunch was over and it was time to head back to his apartment he was reminded.

“Tyler since you are my friend I have a favour to ask you,” Daniel said seriously stopping in the middle of the footpath, Tyler turned around looking at him curiously.

“What does this favour entail?” he said, sounding unsure.

“A mercy killing, specifically killing me,” Daniel whined, “Why did you let me do this to myself, is it revenge for avoiding you after Mindy told me off,” he asked, noticing the way Tyler reacted to Daniel’s purposely wrong name for Maude. Daniel raised an eyebrow was Mindy another ex? Geez, how many of these girls did this guy actually date, not every girl he fucked had to turn into a girlfriend, he could just hook up with them and then throw them away like used tissues.

Whatever ‘Mindy’ inspired in Tyler was over quickly because the next thing he knew Tyler was chuckling. “One I am not killing you why should I be merciful to you?” he asked with a teasing grin. “Two, you asked me to come and three her name is Maude and i explained that situation to you and now that i think about it you owe me after how cruelly you treated me over something that wasn’t my fault,”

“It was so, she is your ex, so therefore she is your fault,” Daniel huffed. “And fine, to make it up to you I'll use my AMM login to hook you up with a model,” he offered as Tyler’s nose scrunched up. “What? you don’t want to date a model?”

“Why are you pushing for me to hook up with someone?” Tyler asked, raising an eyebrow.

“To help you get over your ex?” Daniel offered. “That is what our friendship is for right? To help each other with our broken hearts?” he pointed out.

“So you are just trying to get rid of me bypassing me off to another girl?” Tyler asked with a frown. “I don’t know-” he started before Daniel cut him off.

“Hey i didn’t mean it like that, I was just trying to help,” He said holding his hands up. “I just figured you’d be into dating a very pretty girl,” he said. “Sorry,” he offered.

“It’s fine,” Tyler huffed. “I just feel like you don’t actually want to -” he trailed off, “I mean you haven’t even given me your phone number, normal friends give each other phone numbers,” he pointed out.

“Fine,” Daniel said, “I guess we have reached friendship level 7,” Daniel admitted. “I mean you did come to the hell on earth known as Crossfit with me so,” he said with a nudge as Tyler held his phone out. Daniel rolled his eyes typing his number in. “There you are now one of the few people that actually have my number, don’t give it to anyone without my permission,” he said with narrowed eyes after Minah somehow managed to get his number he was even more careful.

“Who would i give it to?” Tyler snorted texting him so he had his number.

“I don’t know who would you give it to?” Daniel asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Tyler. Tyler rolled his eyes, shoving him.

“Come on let's get you home before your legs give out,” Tyler said. “Do you think you can walk or do i have to carry you?” he teased.

“I can walk, you’ll just have to listen to me complain,” he said. “And you aren’t coming to my house, you need to be at friendship level 15 for that, so you know get to work.”

#story

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