#i wonder if he was just in a playful mood or if he wad helping me out ?

[transgaysex]

im abt to go to sleep but i am thinking

[mismess]

Jeremy went to pick up coffee.

Now Jeremy didn’t always drink coffee in the morning but this day he was asked to get some, so while he’s there he might as well indulge. He could use a boost of energy anyway.

So on his usual drive to work he took a small detour to a local coffee shop, he got two coffees, one medium roast with extra milk and sugar, one dark roast with milk and one sugar. He didn’t think to get more, he wasn’t told to get more so why would he?

This dark roast with milk and one sugar had to do with a call, a call he got early in the morning, around 6:30 am, which is too early and it probably woke up half the house, it was Scotty calling from work, Jeremy didn’t think Scott really registered what time it was, he sounded out of it, but still profusely apologized about his request for him to pick up coffee.

This leads back to a scene from earlier in the week, the coffee pot in the break room had been broken leaving the Fazbear employee’s caffeineless, which isn’t a problem for him but Scott seemed rather upset about it, he did recall him often having a cup in hand, might explain some of his jumpiness, perhaps Scott should cut back on the caffeine actually.

Just another unhealthy habit Jeremy thought to himself

But the thing is Scott almost NEVER asks anything of anyone, even if he probably should, so of course Jeremy agreed. He can’t turn down the one time he’s asked for something, even if it fueled that habit, it was the least problematic of them anyway.

So Jeremy picked up the coffee.

As he arrived at the pizzeria and walked inside, the main entrance opened up to a large open room, to the left were tables that costumers sat to eat pizza and watch the animatronic band perform, the flooring was black and white tile while the walls had star patterned wallpaper with colorful images of the band along on some of the walls, other walls had a few drawings from past costumers put up on display. To the right of the entrance he saw Fritz in their usual spot, in the prize corner near the games, while all their jobs were rather loose in nature and you simply go where you’re needed, that was their ‘main’ job, they take tickets and exchange them for prizes, Fritz was often leaving that post however to help a kid cheat at ski ball or something.

The place had been open for just around an hour, there was a couple of older kids lingering around on the arcade games but it was far from busy. Fritz didn’t take notice that Jeremy had arrived as they were messing with the little prizes behind the counter, such as the finger traps and those rubber poppers. He liked those poppers if he was being honest, and sometimes took one for his own enjoyment.

Jeremy walked past the prize corner and towards the break room, it always felt rude to talk to someone unless they were close enough to him, -what that distance was exactly he didn’t really know himself, depended on the mood and person-, or if said person directly talked to him first, and it felt silly to walk all the way up to someone just to say hello and turn away. So he stayed quiet. This sometimes labeled him as rude either way if someone expected a greeting and he didn’t supply.

He opened the break room door to find Scotty sitting at a table, slumped forward propping his head up with his hands while rubbing his temples with his thumbs, but when he heard the door he looked up, almost in a startled fashion, but that friendly crooked smile he always has on quickly replaced his nervous face.

Jeremy liked that crooked smile, it always leaned towards the right of his face, showing off his dimple on that side.

Underneath his smile however he looked tired, and it seemed like he just got more worn down with every day that went by. Scotty’s always been an overachiever when it came to work, he took long hours and probably did the equivalent of three people's jobs at the same time, but lately it seemed like it’s taken a toll on him. Jeremy’s tried to discourage this behavior in the past but that would usually just end with Scott finding a way to weasel his way out of those conversations.

There wasn’t much to the break room, it had a couple of plain tables strewn about with mismatched chairs surrounding them, a counter against the wall to the left of the entrance with a microwave sitting on it, the coffee pot formerly sat next to it as well, with a couple of cupboards above it that didn’t house much of anything besides a few cups, and at the end of the counter a fridge.

“I’m here.” Jeremy announced, giving him a quick smile

“Oh thank God! I have such a headache-” Scotty said as he shot out of his chair and walked over to Jeremy

Jeremy held out the dark roast with milk and one sugar to Scott

Scott took it and realized he wasn’t being very polite, “OH- Sorry, uh- Hello! How ya doing?” he asked, but quickly followed it up with another question “ Oh, how much was it?”

“Um. I’m fine. And you don’t have to worry about payment.” Jeremy reassured him

“Nonsense!” Scott said, reaching into his pocket “You are NOT paying for my addictions... Ah-!”

“- That’ll do!” Scott said while handing him a crumpled-up wad of spare change, just looking at it Jeremy could tell it was way too much for one dark roast with milk and one sugar.

Before Jeremy could say anything the break room door swung open again as Fritz walked in

“Ooooh, coffee!” Fritz said as they walked by Jeremy “Didn’t get me one~?” Fritz said in a tone that seemed playful, but Jeremy couldn’t quite tell if it was. He’s never been good at picking up tones very well.

“I didn’t know you wanted one, I’m sorry.” Jeremy said. He should have got more coffee, for everyone.

“Nah it’s ok, Jere, I’m joking, I’m sure Scotty called before I was even here.” Fritz said leaning on Scott’s shoulder while he sipped on his dark roast with milk and one sugar

“Wait a minute-” Jeremy started as he realized what time Scott really did call at “You did call from here right? Just how early did you get here?”

But before Scott was able to answer Fritz piped in instead "Dude, he’s BEEN here since 12 last night!” they gave Scott a friendly nudge, but as Scott pulled the coffee away from his mouth he gave out this nervous chuckle

“Wait- wait- Scott, you’re working the night shift?” Jeremy asked, he suddenly felt a sense of dread at the mention of it

“Um. Uh- Yeah, heh...” Scott said awkwardly

Jeremy hadn’t realized Scott had taken over the night shift, no wonder this man seemed more exhausted than usual.

“But you’re here during the day all the time!” Jeremy stated “Ok- Just how many double shifts do you take?”

“Uh- W-Whatever I’m a- asked..?” Scott said with a nervous grin, his shoulders raised up as if to brace himself, he put his coffee down on the table

“Scott-- God the night shift-- Do you LEAVE?”

“O- Of course! I can’t live here!”

“You say that like you would if you could!” Jeremy was obviously showing frustration in his voice, he didn’t mean to but the amount of work this man did stressed Jeremy out, and the night shift stressed him out even more

“Well- I mean- I’m not doing anything else anyway-” Scott started

“Well you should! Scotty you’re already working so many hours, do you sleep?! You have to realize this isn’t healthy-!” Jeremy was cut off by the break room door opening again

William stood in the doorway, his usual calm demeanor did not seem to be about him today, his brow furrowed and shoulders hunched in a manner unlike him “... What is going on in here?” he asked

“- Brought up Scott’s poor work-life balance, now the boys are fighting.” Fritz told him

William pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed “... Ok. I don’t care- There’s currently no employees out on the floor and a birthday party in an hour, can we stop the chit-chat and get things moving.” he snapped

“Yes, you’re right, William!” Scott quickly moved past William out the door on to the floor, obviously glad to find a reason to stop the conversation. William followed.

Jeremy took a deep breath as he watched him walk away “... You think Scotty works too much too, right?” he turned to Fritz, hoping he had an ally, fearing he might be coming off a little too overprotective.

“Oh definitely,” Fritz replied “He’s stubborn when it comes to work tho, you can’t get that guy to sit down. Seeing as you didn’t know he’s on the night shift I guess you haven’t seen his schedule, you should take a look, that thing is a MESS.”

Fritz walked out the door as well, leaving Jeremy alone with his medium roast with extra milk and extra sugar. He didn’t like the mood that was left hanging in this room, he felt bad for getting upset with Scotty, his problems wouldn’t improve just cause Jeremy got fussy with him. But Scotty always pushed these things aside, insisting they could “bring it up later” or “it’s not that bad” or simply just changing the subject, he didn’t know how to talk about it with him without getting fussy at this point.

It seemed like most of their recent conversations ended in frustration. Scotty grew a lot more distant after The Bite, and didn’t tell him about anything anymore, and if asked he would brush him off, he stopped having lunch with him or Fritz and usually spent most his time working or talking with William so any time for socializing was spent elsewhere. He missed his friend.

He didn’t want to just drop it but he didn’t know what more he could do, if Scotty didn’t want his help he can’t force him to talk to him or make him take less hours.

... The night shift...

Jeremy had sworn off the night shift after his first and only week on it, he didn’t like thinking about it, but the reason it was so bad was the animatronics weren’t right, they had something wrong with them, which is why they were scrapped. Those animatronics that seemed out for his blood weren’t in use anymore, and with them the problems of the night shift were gone. At least that’s what William said, Jeremy had no intentions of seeing that for himself, just the thought gave him anxieties.

But that means at least Scott would have the 6 hours to just sit down and relax, right?

He still didn’t think it was good, and Scott definitely should be taking more time off, but maybe Jeremy’s reaction was a bit unwarranted. He would apologize for his harsh tone when he got the chance.

Jeremy took both his medium roast with extra milk and sugar and the half-drunken dark roast with milk and one sugar and put them in the break room’s fridge, maybe they could drink them at lunch together later he thought.

and he got to work.

[jjk-anime-horray]

A Call in the Night

Dazai Osamu x reader x Oda Sakunosuke

Series Summary: While Dazai finally gets over the death of his friend and moves on with his life, he has to watch him unnaturally return into the world, and now he has to watch him turn twisted and into everything he hated in a way.

Chapter Summary: The Armed Detective Agency gets a call about an warehouse incident that happened in the middle of the night, and send two detectives to respond to it.

Notice: This fic series is going to have some dark themes in it so be warned, and in this AU Dazai and the reader are members of the armed detective agency, and this is a spiritual successor to “Late Night Tickets, and Meeting Him.” So I recommend reading that first even though you don’t need to. This is going to be a series!

Trigger Warnings: Blood, mentions of extreme violence, and description of illegal activities.

Getting a call about a mandatory and emergency investigation in the middle of the night, to be specific 2:32am, was something no one at the Armed Detective Agency wanted to do. So what's the most logical solution? Draw straws and the two people who draw the shortest are forced to go.

Unfortunately for you, you were one of the two unfortunate souls that drew a short straw. At least the other person who drew the short straw was Dazai Osamu, your coworker but most importantly the first friend you made in this city, so maybe you would be able to get a kick out of the bad situation at hand.

But when the two of you emerged from an alley to meet the crime scene at hand, that would by no means be the case because by the sight of the horror that layed out infront of you two it was enough for the both of you want to hurl.

Crime scene would describe the atrocity in front of as much as the phrases bloodbath and massacre would. No wonder this was an emergency for the ADA there were probably more than 30 people dead killed in various atypical ways.

First walking into the warehouse the most out of the ordinary sight would be a round wooden table with a duffle bag on it, but once someone took a closer look the rest of the ware house was completely empty other than the congealing crimson liquid that was pooling everywhere.

The five chairs around rickety table were matched with four bodies of executives of some sort laid face down on the table or dangling of the chairs.

But the most appalling sight was what was inside the duffle-bag, you were wishing it would be something tame like left behind money, however, much to your displeasure, they where severed off human heads. That by the looks of it were cut off with some sort of serrated knife my the edge markings.

"What are you thinking (Y/N)?" Were the words that Dazai spoke to snap you out of your spiraling train of thought. "I sure as hell am thinking this isn't the way I would have wanted to go."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one, this shit is something right out of a cheesy crime or horror movie.The only thing I can think of is the heads were a message of some kind to the people who were sitting at the table, and either the person at the empty seat with accomplices who killed everyone or are the only survivor, but it could be either. Were you able to identify anyone bodies or do you recognize anyone?"

"I don't recognize anyone, and most of the bodies are too mangled to be identified, but everyone at the table is wearing a customized Rolex, so I suspect that they were all executives of a organization of some kind, probably an illegal on based on all the gun men that were probably guarding the meeting before they got taken out."

"The only lead we have is the Rolex I guess, so Daz, will you take one for reference, we can visit all of the watch makers in the city to try to find out who was the person who commissioned these watches to be made, and then maybe through that we kind find out who the soul survivor was."

"Agreed."

Honestly the two of you would have been a little more playful and chatty if the events that took place tonight weren't so gruesome. The two of you were used to having to see and do brutal things, but Dazai had this gut feeling that this wasn't the typical violent act, and things weren't as the seemed.

The brown eyed detective just wanted to go take a nap after this, which was something you also wanted to do after see all the blood. Deciding to leave the true start to your investigation for a decent time the two of you swiftly communicated with the responders about the potential situation at hand. Then left to go deal with is mess the next day.

Timeskip........

After a horrible night's sleep and about three cups of coffee you were finally able to be semi-functional, so then you decided to grab your partner Dazai after dressing to impress and make for the horrible mood you currently were in from multiple factors. Dazai was even in a worse state than you where, you found him at the trying to convince Kunikida to go on the investigation for him, which was ultimately denied by the blonde haired man. Also leaving you to drag the genius yet idiotic maniac out of the office.

Walking down the streets in-between visiting different watchmakers and jewelers, you noticed some was off each time your boots hit the ridged pavement. In particular something about Dazai, his face was contorted into a being in deep thought, not to be disturbed for any reason. It was so out of character you were going to ask what he was thinking about, but then opted out.

"I know you were going to ask what I was thinking, I am a detective you know." He said his face morphing into one not of deep thought but of cockiness with a smirk. Damn, sometimes you really loved and hated that smirk, but right now you didn't know what to think of it. "I was just thinking of how now I know exactly who made the watches, and where is is for your information."

"Really who would that be? For my information."

"His name is Opāru Shokunin, he's done a lot of custom jewelry for Elise-chan and the port mafia in the past, but recently he's been doing a lot of foreign commissions for gangs and syndicates outside of Japan my word of mouth. When I first saw the watches I was initially reminded of how it looked like his handy work, but since the first three places we've visited were a bust, i'm confident it's him."

"Alright Mr. Mic-cocky, lead the way by all means." You scoughed lightly.

Unfortunately for the two of you, your desired destination was all the way across yokohama, so you had to hail a taxi which you knew you were going to be the one paying or it. The icing on the shitty cake was that you got stuck in rush hour traffic, so, the total time until arrival was three time longer than it should have been. At least you got dibs on the radio choice.

When the two of you arrived at your desired destination you now witnessed a normal looking office building, unfortunately, there was no elevator so the two of you had to work your legs up three flights of stairs to make it to Opāru's workshop.

Before you went in however you whispered to Dazai "how do we know he's even gonna be willing to talk to us?"

"He's going to be willing...."

"Why?"

"Simple you're gonna pay him."

"Um no you're going to pay him because I payed for the cab!"

"Um no."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"You realize I can hear you two bickering right?" was the raspy voice of the man you were looking for that ended your whisper argument. He was actually younger than you expected, about 38, but he looked older than his body by his eyes, the eyes of someone very worn out. Which would explain the smoking. "He's right i'll talk if you pay me, just come in before ya give everyone else a headache."

The two of you swiftly made your way into the working man's shop room. The room was a lot nicer than you thought it would be, and a lot lighter too. The man possessed a very nice view from his wall because his wall was almost completely filled with by windows. Dazai did mention something about the craftsmen liking natural light in the cab on the way here, so it wasn't too surprising and really lightened the room up.

You followed Dazai to the two chairs across from the white tufted sofa that Opāru was already occupying. Then Dazai placed the watch and a thick wad of cash on the coffee table separating the two parties of people.

"Oh, so you're here to ask who paid me to customize this for them? No surprise there they were particularly nasty."

"How where they particularly nasty?"

"I'm pretty sure that they were doing things even nastier than the port mafia, like taking kids of the streets and shipping them off."

"So, supposedly by word of mouth were human traffickers."

" Yeah, supposedly, but I didn't ask when the guy approached me."

"The guy?" You reconfirmed.

"Yeah, the guy, he had this weird tattoo on his wrist. The guy's name was Zinnnnnng, THUMP.

The two of you didn't even have time to blink or create when the bullet zipped through the head of the craftsman from. The crimson liquid from his head pooling on the couch were he was just alive a few seconds ago. The blood seeping into the fabric like the disparity of situation into Dazai and yourself.

Glimpsing out middle window now tainted with a hole you see the silhouette of the person responsible for this.

Dashing up without a second thought you sprint to pursue the culprit of the murder that just took place infront of you. Eyeing your target through the broken window.

Ahhhhhhh! Okay I’m literally really proud of how this came out! I’m really hope people like it. I’m really new to writing full fanics so if any experienced writer is reading this will you please give some pointers, that would be very helpful!

-Ellie

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 3 (Cowboy Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 3: The Preparation (Cowboy Path)

Pairing: Eli x reader

Content: Light swearing, reader is an awkward pining idiot, no indication yet if your crush likes you back, but we’re just warming up here…

Length: 1.6k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

It really would be best for you to go to the gala with Thrawn. It made sense. He was an alien and you were the only girl at the Academy willing to be seen with him. And while Eli wasn't exactly popular, you could easily count how many girls would gladly be his date to a dance. It was just that plain and simple.

So then why did you feel so... glum?

You gave yourself a once-over in the tiny mirror of your dorm. You supposed you looked nice, better than you usually did anyway. You'd managed to find a decent dress on sale, and your hair cooperated with you for once. But there was something off. You stared at yourself, looking for something, but not knowing what. Only the soft knock at the door pulled you from your pondering.

You had been excited before. Dressing up, dancing, drinking.... You'd rarely had the time for such things over the last year, and never as an official, Academy-approved event.

But now you weren't sure if you'd be able to enjoy any of it. Thrawn only occasionally spoke about it the week leading up to the event, and when he did, it was exclusively in terms of the plan. You'd helped successfully get Arden and Eva to go to the gala together as dates, and already Commander Burdick was pissed about it. But Thrawn had arranged a system for how the three of you would observe, and possibly even intervene, to ensure Burdick decided to pin his sabotage on Arden. It did not sound like a night of fun to you.

And even worse, you wouldn't be able to wallow alongside Eli, your only comrade in times of such misery. As predicted, Eli had had no trouble finding himself a date. Sadie Amiko. She was a cute, petite thing with curves, clear skin, and a dazzling smile. You knew she was in a few of your classes and got good grades. And all Eli had mentioned was she had been excited to accept his invite. And that he seemed pretty eager himself.

You were surprised, then, to see the person who'd been knocking at your door was Eli.

Surprised, and just a little bit flustered.

"Do you know how to tie a tie?" he asked with a sheepish smile, holding up a wad of navy blue satin. You gulped, trying not to let your eyes wander over him too noticeably. He was actually wearing a suit, fitted to his slim frame, and with shiny shoes and snazzy cufflinks to complete the look. The only thing he hadn't seemed to pay attention to was his hair, which was still in its usual, shaggy style. But it honestly made him look that much better. He was classy, but not fancy. Rugged, but not unkempt.

"Um," was all you could say. He looked at you expectantly, and after a moment you finally processed what he was asking for. "Oh. Um, sure, I think I can figure it out."

He heaved a sigh of relief as you let him into your dorm. Thankfully you didn't have any roommates; your old one had transferred out of the Navy halfway through the year, and no one seemed rushed to get you a new one.

Eli stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as you took the tie from him and tried to make sense of it.

"Thrawn was no help?" you asked just to fill the silence between you.

"He's been out all afternoon. Somethin' about preparing for tonight." He rolled his eyes. "And I don't think he meant it the way you and I are."

"Yeah," you said quietly, finally getting the tie around his neck and under the collar of his crisp white shirt. "He's obsessed with this plan."

"I would be, too, if my grades were on the line."

You nodded. You understood, but that didn't mean you had to like it.

Eli seemed to sense your low spirits. "You okay? I thought you'd be more excited about all this."

"I was... I am." You caught Eli's disbelieving look and sighed. "I don't know. It's just... we're not going so we can have fun. We have a mission. And Thrawn doesn't seem the type to want to dance all night. So... I guess I'm just resetting my expectations."

He gave a little laugh and for some reason you could start to feel your heart beating. That was odd. "You never know, Thrawn could surprise you and whisk you right off your feet."

You only glanced at him pointedly before continuing to fumble with the tie. You'd looped it around a couple different ways but nothing seemed right. You finally huffed and let the material fall against his chest.

"I give up. This isn't as easy as I thought it'd be. Sorry."

Eli shrugged as he pulled it from around his neck and rolled it in his hands. "Eh, it was worth a shot. I can go without it, right?"

He held his hands on his hips and did a playful little pose which made you laugh for the first time all day.

"Yeah, you look..." you hesitated, suddenly conscious of the fact that you found him incredibly good looking in this moment, but that you absolutely did not want to admit it. Eli was your friend. And this was just a dance. There was no reason to get sentimental about any of it. 

"You look good," you finally settled on saying, getting the words out quickly and turning around to pretend you were cleaning up your desk, so the compliment wouldn't seem like it was more than it was.

"Sure beats those wrinkly uniforms we always have to wear."

You couldn't help but look back at him over your shoulder. "Um, excuse me, but my uniforms are perfectly wrinkle-free. You know, because I actually do my laundry...."

"Oh, excuse you," he said dramatically, "but so do I. And they still look like shit."

"Must be that Wild Space curse you have," you laughed. "Forever doomed to look like a nerf herder."

"Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy, don't you."

"I said you looked good!"

"Yeah, yeah..." He didn't keep up the banter, having noticed your mirror and now self-consciously checking himself in it. Now you felt bad for the nerf-herder comment. You'd really meant it as a joke, but you couldn't exactly explain that his scruffiness actually made him attractive, not without making things really weird.

"Well, I better get goin'. I told Sadie I'd meet her there at six." He stopped fussing over his shirt and looked at you. "Comin' with?"

You shook your head, trying to ignore how casually he referred to his date, as if Sadie was someone he'd already been with for a while. "No, Thrawn said he'd come by for me. Should be soon."

"Alright," he shrugged and started heading for the door. You followed and definitely did not cast a few glances at his rear end. He paused in the doorway, looking back at you with a sincere smile. "And hey, how about I reserve a dance with you? In case Mr. Serious doesn't ask. I'll make sure you have a good time."

"Deal," you smiled back.

You let your back fall against the closed door, shutting your eyes in an attempt to steady your breathing. You couldn't believe you had acted like that. Your friend puts on a nice suit and suddenly you're into him? You're such an idiot, you told yourself.

A knock on the door made you startle out of your inner lecture. You turned to open it and found your date on the other side.

"Good evening," Thrawn said courteously, holding out a blue hand. You panicked, not realizing it was already time. Eli had really distracted you.

"Shit! Sorry, one sec!" you called over your shoulder at him as you rushed back into your room. "I need shoes!"

Thrawn was patient as he waited for you to finish getting ready and finally joined him in the hall. You didn't like feeling this frazzled. You had given yourself plenty of time to prepare just so you wouldn't have to rush and make the evening worse than it would probably be.

"Is everything alright?" Thrawn asked, naturally picking up on your mood. You avoided his discerning gaze, not wanting to encourage him to ask too many questions.

"Yeah, sorry, just lost track of time."

"I see," was all he said, thankfully. He turned to align himself next to you and held out an arm, which was clad in a very nice white suit. You briefly wondered if he had looked into these gentlemanly customs or if they were similar to Chiss culture.

You looped your hand through and lightly rested it on his arm, allowing him to lead you toward the gala.

"Eli said you disappeared this afternoon," you said, trying to find something to get your mind off the thoughts you'd had earlier. Maybe it would end up being a good thing, having this plan to focus on for the night. Maybe it wouldn't be fun, but at least it gave you something other than your suddenly confusing feelings to think about.

"I did not disappear," he said plainly, not quite understanding the figure of speech. "I was merely putting a few final details in place for the evening."

"Such as...?" You knew it was futile to ask but you tried anyway.

"You will see soon enough," he answered as predicted.

You nodded and continued the walk in silence. This would surely be an interesting evening, if nothing else.

Next Chapter: The Party >

Blueberry Path | Thrawn x reader

Cowboy Path | Eli x reader

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and vilains

Virgil Anker: a chance at change

Changes can be thrust upon you, or made by choice. Virgil has to make a few though decisions this year.

Virgil’s first day of his sophomore year started as a complete disaster. Over the summer his father had started on a ‘project’ he didn’t want to talk about at home. Which was weird. His dad loved talking about work. It was one of the few things that consistently got him excited. Last night he’d worked late, like really late, and Virgil hadn’t been able to bring himself to even go to his room. Instead he sat on the stairs, staring at the front door until his dad came through. After reading that headline that placed the horrible possibility of his father’s secret in his head he’d stopped searching. He’d bolted out of the library and into the park where he curled up under a tree, hid himself with his powers and proceeded to panic for what he later found out was a good hour. He’d always been a worrier and this discovery gave him so much to worry about. What if his father was Brain Storm? What if he was still a bad guy? What if he wasn’t but someone from his past was blackmailing him? What if he’d lose him when people found out? What if this project was something dangerous and something bad had happened? When his dad came home Virgil did something he hadn’t done since he was ten. He jumped into his father’s arms and hugged him tight. The panic he’d been keeping at bay all night rushing over him all at once. It took his dad a while to calm him down. Then he’d put him to bed with the promise of a serious talk after school. Then, of course, Virgil had overslept. His dad always left very early and usually Virgil was very punctual. But today he got up way too late and had to rush out the door. He barely took the time to shower, not even waiting for the water to get warm or to dry his hair properly. For breakfast he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth after which he rushed to the bus stop praying he’d still magically make it to the last buss that would get him to school on time. He had no such luck. When he finally arrived at school he rushed to get his late slip and thanked the heavens that the secretary seemed to feel enough pity for his sorry state to spare him a lecture and just gave him his schedule and told him the quickest way to his first class. “I hope you like where you are sitting…” The teacher’s voice faded out as he finally arrived in class. She looked at him, clearly not happy with his late arrival. “Ah, so glad you could join us Mr. Anker,” she greeted with a clipped voice. Virgil did his best to ignore the fact that everyone was staring at him. Maybe he should try and figure out if he could use his cloak in reverse and make himself blind to the presence of other people. He pulled his hood off as he muttered an apology and tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye. The teacher pointed to the back of the class. “Take your seat and spare me your excuses. I was just telling the class that these are your seats for the rest of the year,” she then continued addressing the class. “So I hope you like your neighbor, they are your new lab partner.” Virgil felt dread fill his stomach. Great a lab partner. And he got stuck with whoever was left sitting alone. He followed the teacher’s gesture and soon spotted the only empty seat in the second to last row in the back. He felt all tension leave his body as he saw that on the spot next to it sat none other than Roman Castile. Maybe today wouldn’t suck as much as he thought it would. The theater kid gave him a playful smirk and a wave. Virgil smiled back and sat down with a relieved sigh. “Man, talk about a lucky break.” “I agree,” Roman grinned. Before Virgil could say anything else, like ‘hi, how was your summer?’, the teacher started class and she was clearly not someone Virgil wanted to get upset at him. Soon they were given their first experiment. He and Roman were laughing, cracking jokes and throwing out nicknames and mild jabs the entire time and still finished early. Virgil couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach. Roman was cute when he was having a good time. He was so gay for this guy. Trying to look like he was perfectly comfortable with his lack of sleep, breakfast and zero minutes spent with so much as a brush, he leaned back in his chair and looked at Roman curiously. “So how did you end up sitting alone in the back, princey?” There was no way Roman voluntarily hid so far out of sight from everyone else and so far from his usual friend seated in the front row. Roman looked a little awkward at the nickname. “Princey?” he repeated. Virgil rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh come on, you are clearly destined to be prom king senior year. And every king is a prince first,” he teased. Surely he knew that he was the most popular guy of their year? “Fair enough,” Roman allowed with a brief gesture of surrender. “I was last to arrive,” he explained with a shrug. “Simple as that. I didn’t sleep well last night and didn’t get up until my mother kicked me out of bed. She was busy with an order or she would’ve noticed sooner and dad was at the office, so he couldn’t drag me to the breakfast table either.” He made a gesture that seemed to say ‘what can you do?’ “You?” he asked. Virgil couldn’t help but make a face as he thought about the horrible morning he’d had. “Until an hour ago I was convinced the universe just hated me today, let’s leave it at that.” Roman chuckled, but not in a mean way. Then he got this look that Virgil knew meant he was about to be dramatic. “Ah, fate does work in mysterious ways my friend. It must have willed us to team up for this treacherous quest.” ‘How is he this much of a dork? And why do I like that about him?’ Virgil wondered as he laughed at his lab partner’s antics. He just couldn’t help it. Roman just had that effect on him. “Only you can pull of talking like a Shakespeare character,” he told his classmate. A playful light flickered in Roman’s eyes at that. “Well, only you can pull off dressing like a dark knight and still looking like a lost kitten,” he shot back. Virgil forced himself not to show how flustered he felt at being compared to a kitten. Did that mean Roman thought he was cute? And knight? That was a good thing right? Still, he had some kind of reputation he had to uphold. So he gave Roman a playful shove. “You take that back! I am dark and mysterious and intimidating!” Roman didn’t look like he was going to take it back. He looked like he took his protest as a challenge. But then Virgil saw a wad of paper hit his neighbor in the head and Roman’s mood immediately turned sour. Virgil was not far behind. There was only one person he could think of who would provoke the coolest kid in their year like that. Couldn’t Jan let him enjoy himself without him for five minutes? “What gives Bullard?” Roman hissed as they turned around. Virgil hated to see the look on his oldest friend’s face, the sneer, the jealousy. Because it was definitely jealousy that had Janus so worked up about Roman. “You take Smellington next time,” the boy next to Janus flinched in his seat and shot Virgil a pleading look. He recognized him. Virgil had stood up for him to upper classmen several times in the past. “Virgil is sitting with me.” That made Virgil mad like never before. He couldn’t just make decisions about his life like that! “Excuse me?” Roman seethed. “His name is Carlton.” “And you don’t get to say where I sit J,” Virgil added barely keeping his voice down. “I’m fine sitting with Roman. Besides you heard the teacher. No switching seats.” And once again Virgil found himself grateful for something that at first seemed like a bad thing. The teacher might have half a mind to give Virgil detention the second he gave her an excuse, but she also won’t let Janus have his way. Janus was a smooth talker and it got him out of trouble all the time. How Virgil didn’t know for sure, but he was almost certain it wouldn’t work this time around. “We always sit together!” Janus protests, there is a little bit of hurt hidden behind his indignation, but Virgil won’t let it get to him. Not this time. “Exactly. The world won’t end because I’m Roman’s lab partner J.” Really why can’t he have one hour to spend with someone else? “Am I interrupting?” Virgil heard a cold voice from behind him causing him, and the other three students to freeze in shock and turn to face the teacher. She was directing her eyes at Janus. Virgil was right, his friend’s usual tricks would not work this time. “Mr. Bullard, I don’t have you and Mr. Jonson’s assignment yet, which means you can’t be talking with anyone else besides each other right now,” she informed him in a dangerous tone. Two tardy students was clearly already more than she wanted to put up with on the first day of class. Virgil looked back at his friend and watched as Janus gave her his trademark ‘persuasive look’ his voice becoming honey like. Virgil had watched this get him extensions on projects, a better grade on those he had turned in… It was weird, and Virgil almost thought it might be a gift, but Janus would tell him, if no one else. Not to mention it didn’t always work. A gift should be more consistently successful shouldn’t it? “Ma’am, I can’t work with him. Virgil and I never had a problem in projects, can’t we…” “No.” The statement was firm and final and Virgil tried not to show how relieved he felt. “I put Mr. Jonson next to you because you are much too dependent on Mr. Anker’s presence. You won’t always be able to hide behind him Mr. Bullard. You better learn that now. And if I see any more problems here then all that’ll change is that Mr. Castille and Mr. Anker will be moved to the front of the class so you can’t distract them anymore. Is that understood?” Virgil was a bit surprised to hear all this. It seemed like the teacher had forced Janus to let Carlton sit next to him before Virgil or Roman arrived. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with her statement, but he wasn’t going to argue with the result. Virgil shot Carlton a reassuring smile, he’d make sure Janus would behave himself. There was no need for any fallout to affect him.

The teacher left and both he and Roman turned back around in their seats. “Sorry about that.” Virgil had no clue what possessed Roman to say that, but he was not having it. “I should be apologizing. He’s my friend and he was bothering you.” Possibly not for the first time. Why had Roman never mentioned it? “Yeah, but I did something to piss him off… Don’t know what, but he hates me. And if you were my best friend and some dude I hated was being all charming with you, I wouldn’t like it either.” Virgil laughed in relief. He was glad Roman seemed to understand what had Janus so worked up. And while he’d love to protest the ‘he hates me’ bit, he couldn’t. So he focused on getting back to teasing each other and enjoying themselves. “Charming huh? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.” His jab had the desired effect. All conflict and worry left Roman’s face and he returned to his dramatic self. “Oh, my knight, why must you hurt me so?” Virgil laughed and allowed himself to enjoy the way being called his knight made his heart flutter. “Thanks… I needed that. J isn’t so bad, but he can be…” Virgil bit his lip, unsure what to say. “Yeah, not your fault,” Roman assured him before perking up. “Hey, why don’t you two come sit with us over lunch? Maybe if he feels included, he’ll calm down?” he suggested. Virgil’s eyes widened. That would actually be kind of amazing! Half of Janus’ thing was that he thought they were on the ‘outcast’ side of school hierarchy. If they both got into the ‘cool’ group then he could relax and go back to being the Janus Virgil would gladly do anything for. “You sure?” he asked hopefully. “Of course. My friends all think you are cool and they’ll think Janus is cool too, once he gives them a chance.” Virgil really wanted to accept, but a voice in the back of his head pointed out that this was too good to be true. What if Janus was right and he was unknowingly walking them both in a trap where Janus would end up feeling hurt and betrayed and never want to talk to Virgil again, leaving him with a choice between being all alone or following Roman around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of high school? Another, more rational voice pointed out that Roman had never exhibited any behavior that suggested he’d do that. That voice sounded a lot like his dad, and his dad usually made more sense than the bad voice. Still, why would Roman offer to put up with Janus? “You don’t like him. How do you know they will?” “I don’t like how he talks to me,” Roman admitted. Well, that was only fair. Virgil wasn’t very fond of the way Janus talked to people in general the past year either. “But he’s your friend, so how bad can he be?” His endorsement was that valuable? And had Roman mentioned that his other cool friends thought Virgil was cool too? When did that happen? Maybe, maybe sophomore year could be a new start. “Okay, I’ll suggest it.”

He should’ve known better. “Absolutely not!” Janus had huffed. “Jan, it’s just lunch. If it’s not fun then we can bail on them any time. You are the one who’s so obsessed with our spot on the social ladder. What do we have to lose?” Janus rolled his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand this Virgil. But the offer wasn’t for us. Roman wants something from you. And he’ll have his friends be nice to me around you to get it.” “I know I’m not exactly mister sunshine, but that’s overly dramatic and pessimistic. Roman is cool. Like genuinely. And if you gave him a chance…” “Oh please Virgil! You are not this naïve! Why do you want his friendship so badly that you blind yourself like this? He can have anything from anyone he wants! Why would he want to be around some awkward outcasts? Except to make himself look good? What end does that serve? Everything anyone ever does serves some selfish end Virgil. Even the most noble of deeds are ultimately out of desire to be seen as good.” “Except for you of course, you only have my best interest at heart!?” Virgil pointed out. Janus hesitated and then he leaned in, too close for Virgil’s comfort, and he spoke in that tone. “You are my only friend Virgil. Of course I want to protect you, even from yourself. Don’t let Roman’s flowery words and cute pet names get to you.” Virgil tried not to flinch. Did Janus know? No, he couldn’t know. Still, Virgil had to remember that he could hear everything he and Roman said to each other. “I give him a week before he gets bored of you. And I don’t want to see you hurt by that.” And Virgil believed him. So he followed Janus to an empty table in the cafeteria. He saw Roman perk up, smile and wave when he spotted them. And he wanted so badly to just turn to him and go sit with Roman, Janus could either join or eat alone if that made him happy. But he didn’t. He smiled apologetically and shrugged, indicating he tried. The way Roman’s face fell in disappointment made his heart break just a little. He was mad at himself for being so weak. The rest of the day he sulked, not talking to Janus at all, not that his friend seemed to care. He apparently was of the opinion that Virgil would come around soon enough. Virgil wasn’t so sure. The sadness and anger he felt about the whole thing didn’t seem to go away like it usually did.

And then there was the talk with his father. “Home!” he called out as he tossed his keys over the hook at the door. “Kitchen!” his dad called back sounding tense. Virgil took a deep breath and joined his father at the kitchen table, gratefully accepting the cup of tea. “Virgil, I want you to know that you are not in trouble. I am not mad or upset with you in any way. Alright?” Clearly he wasn’t as good at hiding his nerves as he’d hoped. He nodded. “Last night… Was that the first time you went through something like that?” Virgil looked down. He knew he had to be honest with his dad right now… But it wasn’t an easy thing to admit. “No… Sometimes I just think too much and I worry and then I freak out and… It always passes, but it’s…” He feels tears spring up in his eyes. He feels so stupid. Who freaks out over some stupid thoughts? Not his dad. He’s rational and calm and in control. “Frightening I’m sure.” Virgil looked up in surprise at his father’s understanding tone. “Virgil,” he began as he pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards him. “I have a list for you, I’d like you to read over it and indicate next to each item how often you experience them on a monthly basis. It’s important to me that you are honest. I have a suspicion of what may be causing this, but I get that talking about it might be hard for you. Therefor I provided you with this as a way to boil it down to simple facts. Can you do this for me?” Virgil nodded and accepted the paper and pen. He started reading and writing. He tried not to think too much about how bad it was that there were so many things he experienced at least once a week if not several times a day. When he finished, he almost didn’t want to return it to his dad. Would he be disappointed? “It’s alright Virgil. I know I’m not always, good, at expressing my emotions, but I do love you. More than I expected to when I first agreed to take care of you. Nothing could prepare me for how much I love you and how proud I am to call you my son. Whatever you wrote down, won’t change that.” Virgil took in a deep breath and shoved the paper forward. There it was gone. Silence lingered for a moment as his father read the paper and nodded to himself. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with this on your own Virgil. Can I ask for how long?” Virgil frowned and thought about that. “Um… start of last school year? I didn’t notice it was bad until shortly after Christmas though. I was in the park and started freaking out. After that I was more aware of it I guess,” he explained. His father simply nodded. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?” he asked worriedly. Because the first time I freaked out it was because I thought you might be a former super villain and I didn’t know how to even begin explaining that. “I… I wanted to… but then I started freaking out about freaking you out and…” he forced himself to take a slow breath and a sip of his tea. “I just figured I could deal.” Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Virgil, I think you might suffer from heightened levels of anxiety. That doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you. I would like for you to talk to someone about it though. If only to help you figure out a way to handle these attacks and the thoughts that come with this better so it doesn’t have to interfere too much with your life. Does that sound agreeable?” “A shrink?” Virgil asked nervously. His dad nodded. “I know there is a stigma against it… But my psychiatrist has helped me a great deal with your mother’s death. I hope he, or one of his colleagues can help you with your anxiety.” This came as a surprise. “You… you went to therapy?” He always seemed to be so in control of his life though. “Still do from time to time,” his dad nods simply. Virgil thinks about it for a moment. Well, it couldn’t hurt to see what whoever this doctor was had to say right? If he has his dad’s approval… “Okay… just… can this stay between you and me?” he pleaded. He wasn’t sure how Janus would respond to him having anxiety. Knowing him he’d probably become even more protective and he didn’t need that in his life. His dad nodded in understanding. “If that makes you more comfortable.” “Thanks,” Virgil smiled. Then he finished his tea and excused himself to make homework. His dad got him a first appointment for the start of October.

Things didn’t change much for him in that time honestly. Roman grabbed every opportunity to talk to Virgil and tried to coax him into conversation. And he would love to just throw caution to the wind and enjoy the hour they shared as well as the stolen moments where they ‘ran into each other’ or where they defended the same kid. But, he just couldn’t do it. The doctor was a unique individual. Virgil wasn’t sure how well they’d get along at first. “Now, Virgil, I can call you Virgil right?” Picani asked kindly. He was nice, but also… extra. Even Roman might think he was a bit too intense. “Sure,” he mumbled in response, toeing of his shoes and curling up in a ball on the couch. He didn’t miss the fact that Picani took note of that. “Well, I’ve heard why your father thinks you should be here, but what I’d like to know, Virgil, is why you want to be here. Are you just looking for some medication, some breathing techniques or are there some things you actually want to talk about?” Virgil looked at the doctor long and hard to see what his angle was. He couldn’t find one. And it was a good question. What was he doing here if there was so much he couldn’t share? He shrugged. “Not sure… I know my dad wants to help. But…” Picani made a dismissive gesture. “Your father isn’t my patient right now. You should only come here if it’s something you want. Your dad will just have to learn from Jazz Fenton’s example,” Picani smirked. Virgil chuckled. “Well, he’s a lot like her, he just might.” “Oh?” Picani’s eyes lit up. Virgil didn’t know this but it wasn’t often that his patients saw the show he was referencing and indulged in the analogy. “You know, not as serious as he likes to believe he is. Well-meaning and levelheaded most of the time… supportive of his loved ones… but he could maybe be a bit more accepting and patient I guess.” “I was indeed getting at the patient part. Jazz did a great job waiting for her brother to be ready to ask her for help and offered him aid from the sidelines. Protecting him from their parents’ antics in the process.” “But she still thought she knew better than him and while she accepted his powers she didn’t get him until they actually sat down and talked,” Virgil countered. Picani cocked his head curiously. “I mean… I’m bi, and my dad is very accepting of that. And he tries to encourage me when I do art, even if he doesn’t really get it. But… I feel like he expects me to tell him everything, but he’s hiding so much… this is between you and me right?” He was pretty sure that was a rule, but he preferred to check. “Until you give me the ok, your secrets are locked up in here,” the doctor tapped his head and then his notebook, “Safer than in a secret vault.” Virgil smirked. “Figured you’d be a potterhead too. Huffelpuf I assume?”Picani nodded proudly. “But we’re getting of track. You were saying?” Virgil sighed once more. “Right. You probably know that I’m adopted?” he verified. “That was in your paperwork, but I wasn’t going to bring it up unprompted,” the doctor acknowledged calmly. “Well… I’ve come to terms with that, really, I’m not ashamed or anything. But I know nothing about my birth parents. I ask about them, and Lo… dad,” he hates it, but sometimes his father’s surname slips into his mind, especially when he thinks about his birthparents. Never in front of him, but still, he finds himself thinking it more and more often. And he feel really bad about it. “You can address him however you’re comfortable Virgil. I won’t say a word.” Virgil nodded. “Logan won’t tell me anything. I don’t have any pictures or their names and I know he knew them. I want to understand that it’s hard for him for whatever reason. But I want to know where I come from.” Picani nodded calmly. “And this secrecy… could that be what brings out some of the anxiety you’ve been experiencing?” Virgil nodded. “It’s not the only thing though,” he admitted and before he knew it, he told Picani all about how things had changed between him and Janus and the feelings he was developing for Roman who was completely out of his league. Picani was understanding and careful about how he addressed the Janus situation. He did encourage him to accept Roman’s attempts to reach out to him.

Virgil agreed to make another appointment with the doctor and he really wanted to make an effort with Roman. But he was much too scared of being rejected when Roman inevitably found out he had a crush on him. Picani wasn’t frustrated with him when he admitted he’d chickened out, much to Virgil’s relief. Instead they talked about how the coping tools he’d recommended were working out and then they talked about the fun things he’d experienced that year. “Hold on, you described yourself and Janus as outcasts. But you just said that Roman, the main character of your year, as you described it, thinks you,” he pointed at Virgil with his pen, “are cool. I normally advice against this, but maybe you should pay more attention to the rumor mill in school Virgil, and see if Janus’ view of you two might be different from that of everyone else.”

It was an interesting thought. And Virgil did just that. Over the next week he eavesdropped on conversations where he heard his name drop. And what he heard, boosted his confidence to say the least. People called him brave, and attractive, smart and mysterious. They were hyping each other up to ask him out. Some were questioning why he was wasting his time with someone as ‘sketchy’ as Janus. “Doesn’t he know what that guy is like?” “Wouldn’t surprise me. That snake seems like the type to strangle a kitten with one hand while offering Anker some chocolate with the other.” He didn’t really like that bit. But the rest was pretty good.

Then there was his meeting with Patton Bonnaire. He’d left his third appointment with Dr Picani and decided to catch a ride home with his dad, considering he would be done soon. He was working on his mysterious ‘project’ over the weekend. The university wasn’t far from Picani’s office. Virgil told the receptionist who he was and sat down to mess around a bit on his phone while he waited. “Hello?” Virgil looked up to find a man his father’s age looking at him with a curious smile. He was dressed funny. Light blue cardigan and a grey sweater tied around his neck. Like some sitcom version of a suburban gay dad character. He looked very nice though. Wide bespectacled blue eyes and freckles all over his cheeks. “Um… hi,” Virgil greeted as he got up and offered his hand. “Virgil Anker, I’m waiting for my dad,” he explained. Seeing a random teen at the university on a Saturday afternoon would be rather surprising. “Oh my goodness! You are Logie’s son!” Logie? Virgil felt a smile fight to break free. This was going to be good. “Um… Logan Anker is my dad yeah… he told you about me?” he asked politely. “Oh, you’re the only way anyone can get him to talk about anything other than work. I know all about you, but I still don’t know what kind of cookies to bake for his birthday,” the man pouted. No, that’s not fair! Virgil didn’t know how to deal with disappointed faces like that! Well, considering his dad had told this man all about him already, it was probably fine to tell him this little thing about Logan. “Anything with Crofters Jam and you are his hero,” Virgil divulged, with a mildly devilish smirk, imagining the look on his father’s face when he suddenly received treats with his favorite guilty pleasure. How the man pulled it off, Virgil didn’t know, but he could swear the man’s eyes sparkled. He grabbed his hand in both of his and started jumping up and down excitedly. “Oh kiddo! Thank you so much! My name’s Patton! I teach moral philosophy. I love your cool jacket, and you did your make-up so well!” Then he lifted his sweater sleeve to reveal a heart shaped emblem on the cuff. The heart wore glasses and brandished the pan colors. Patton winked indicating he picked up on Virgil’s color scheme. Virgil smiled. “Thanks, I made it myself,” he informed him. “Wow! Such a talented kid! No wonder your dad is so proud of you!” Patton gasped in awe. Virgil blushed. “I’m alright,” he said dismissively, not very used to that type of praise from an adult. Patton reminded him a little of Roman. “Now, don’t say it like that. The design is good and you’ve sown it so well! Did you teach yourself?” Virgil nodded. “Well that’s amazing. I’m not surprised though. Whit a dad as clever as Logie.” Virgil is so going to tease his dad with that nickname. And maybe set these two up. At least if he isn’t the mysterious ‘project’. Was this dad’s way to hide that he’s trying to date? Patton was clearly interested. Ew… why does he even have to think about this? Scratch that. He knows why, he’s the only wingman his dad has. Technically there is uncle Thomas, his dad’s old college friend, but last time he’d tried to set Logan up, they’d ended up not talking for a month for some reason. As far as Virgil knew he hadn’t dated anyone since he adopted Virgil. The man needed to get out of his office. “For how long have you known my dad?” he asked curiously. “Oh we both started here around the same time. He won’t admit it, but I think I’ve… Crofted my way into his heart.” Virgil, not used to dad jokes, couldn’t help a chuckle. “Oh, you are so precious! Can I keep you?” Patton pleaded, only half joking if Virgil read him right. “Ask my dad out and maybe I’ll end up calling you papton.” That was terrible but Patton seemed to love it anyway. Then the rest of the sentence seemed to register and he blushed. “Um, wait no. I mean…” he sighed and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m that obvious?” “Only a neon sign with ‘date me Dr. Anker’ would be more obvious. And in my dad’s case, you might need that. He’s a bit dense when it comes to matters of the heart. I don’t think he’d notice if you had his all pitter Patton.” This gets him another bout of laughter. “You shouldn’t sell your old man short though kiddo,” Patton manages a few moments later. “He was a tad stiff in the beginning. But recently he’s quite lit, I believe the word is?” Virgil froze when he saw Patton dig through his messenger bag and retrieve copies of familiar cards. “He let you copy his flashcards?” he asked in surprise. “Oh, yes. I walked in one day to borrow a marker and heard him say ‘cobi’? He was tossing something in the trash and the class applauded. So I asked his secret and he showed me his cards. I asked if I could borrow them and…” Patton couldn’t finish his story because Virgil had lost the battle with his composure. He was laughing. Tears streaming down his face and clutching his stomach, barely keeping upright. “He actually said… god, I didn’t expect…” he wheezed.

“Virgil!” At the sound of his dad’s distressed voice he looked up and struggled to signal that it was alright. “Virgil if you can hear me squeeze my hand.” Oh no, dad thinks I’m having an attack. “Fine, fine,” he managed as he squeezed the hand that held his. “Just, can’t… Oh my god, hilarious,” he wheezed. “Virgil, are you having an attack?” He shook his head impatiently and tried the breathing exercise Picani recommended. It worked, surprisingly. Pretty soon he whipped at his eyes though he would have to wash his face in the restroom unless he wanted to look like a horror movie monster. He looked up at the two men in front of him. Patton was absolutely smitten. Seeing his dad in protective parent mode clearly didn’t turn him away. Quite the opposite. “You are using the vocab cards,” he explained. “Of course they were a gift from you, why wouldn’t I use them at any opportunity?” Patton clasped his hands in front of his mouth to stifle a squeal. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes, because you were complaining about not understanding some of the things your students were saying. I didn’t expect you to actually start yeeting your trash.” And then his dad readjusted his glasses, looked him dead in the eye and said: “Yeet is for distance. For trash I need accuracy, therefore the term used is ‘cobi’.” Virgil lost it again. His dad just… Gods he can’t wait to tell Roman… Wait, since when was Roman the first person he thought about to tell stuff like this. They weren’t even really talking right now. But telling Janus felt… when was the last time he and J had a proper conversation? Before summer? Yeah some time before art week. These thoughts brought down his mood enough to get him to stop laughing. Picani might not be entirely wrong to suggest that the friendship was in serious danger of becoming toxic. Though he didn’t use the label, Virgil could read between the lines. “Anyway, great meeting you Patton. It’s good to know dad has someone so nice looking out for him.” Then he turned to his dad. “You should invite him over for dinner some time. He’s a lot of fun.” Patton’s face became beet red, but more importantly his dad was getting flushed as well. “Well, you two talk about that, I’m going to wash my face,” he stated as he marched away, feeling rather good about himself. He always felt better about everything after a visit to doctor Picani. In the morning doubts and worries would return in full force. But right now, he was feeling good. When he returned he saw his dad standing alone, staring off in the distance. “Dad?”

“Dr. Bonnaire asked me on a date,” Logan breathed. “I think you can call him by his first name if that’s the case,” Virgil grinned. “I… I suppose…” His dad was in shock… wow. “You did say yes right?” Virgil clarified. “I… yes, I don’t know what came over me… I’ve never…” “Wait… you’ve never been on a date?” God the man who had the talk with him had never been on a date. “Not like this!” Logan exclaimed with a wild gesture, surprising Virgil. If he raised his voice this has to really be bothering him. “Last time, I was an arrogant college student who felt like he had to answer to no one but himself. Now, I am a single father, going out with a coworker. This is an adult outing. I can’t just…” Virgil smiled sympathetically and patted his father on the shoulder. “You really like this guy huh?” Logan sighed and nodded with a blush. “He’s so patient and friendly and… I just never thought he could ever…” “Now stop it right there. Me turning out like a somewhat stable person, proofs you are awesome. And you just showed him all the reasons why he should date you while taking care of me. You’re welcome by the way. Patton is cool. He’s already met your kid and passed the test. The scariest bit is over.” Suddenly his dad turned towards him and grabbed his shoulders. “You’re really fine with me going out with him? With me possibly entering a romantic relationship?” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I’m not a fan of the change, but I want you to be happy. And if Patton is your pick… I wouldn’t have suggested he come over for dinner if I didn’t like him.” Virgil rolled his eyes, but the gesture lost some edge when his father hugged him. “I am fortunate to have you as a son.” Virgil shoved him away, blushing awkwardly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever Logie,” he huffed getting a flustered stammering as a reward. “Let’s go home,” he suggested with a smirk before heading to the parking lot. The date was planned for the next weekend, after Halloween. And for Virgil it was a Halloween to remember.

He really wanted to go all out, Halloween was his favorite day of the year. But he didn’t want to ruin his costume or get Janus on his case. So, for school, he went with the bare minimum vampire costume, leaving his more elaborate creation for the trick or treaters to enjoy. He was texting his dad, who was still nervous about his date, and waiting for class to start when his day went from okay to awesome. “Greetings peasants!” the booming voice sounded warm and teasing and drew all eyes to the dark prince who’d just entered. Roman stalked trough he class, ‘scaring’ everyone with grand gestures with his arms and even drawing a fake sword threateningly. Making promises of never ending suffering upon the land. Virgil texted his dad that he’d talk to him later and to focus on his classes for now. Eventually Roman pulled back his chair and climbed on it, planting one of his feet firmly on their desk and raising his sword to the sky. “I! Prince Roman of the damned marshes declare war on all that is good and pure!” he bellowed. Virgil leaned back and enjoyed his front row seat. “And you,” he held out a hand to Virgil as if offering to pull him to stand at his side. “my coldhearted friend, may rule at my side!” he announced dramatically. Virgil felt a rush of adrenaline. Roman had effectively pulled him into his improvisation and Virgil didn’t feel like backing out of this challenge. Even if it involved having all eyes on him. “Is that a fact?” he chuckled amused, but otherwise uninterested. He had to be in character after all. And he didn’t look like a vampire bent on world domination. “Of course!” Roman’s delight at his participation settled warmly in his stomach. “You, dear count, are the only other of noble lineage! No one else is worthy of a throne!” Virgil did his best ‘whiny teen’ voice for his reply. “But ruling sounds like a lot of work.” To his surprise this got him a round of laughter, the good kind. People found him funny. “Then you may feast on my enemies!” Roman offered, not missing a beat. Now they were talking. But just then class started. Roman sat down next to him and shot him a hesitant smile when their eyes met while they got their books ready. Virgil felt kind of bad. Roman must’ve been wondering what he did wrong to go from ‘almost friends’ to ‘barely get two words that are not about class’. He returned the smile warmly, making sure that he knew that he was back. Janus criticized the whole endeavor of course, but Virgil didn’t really care anymore. “Roman and I are lab partners, and we’re going to talk. And sometimes we’re going to have fun doing so. You have zero right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I’m not your pet.” That shut Janus up. Perhaps he finally realized that he was acting the way he’d always said Roman would if Virgil gave him the time of day.

Virgil sat alone during Spanish, Janus had an exemption for his language elective because he was already proven fluent in both offered languages. Virgil had no clue what Jan did with the free hour, and he didn’t really care. “Hey, Virgil?��� Virgil looked up and saw that some guy from Roman’s usual group had paused at his desk. He was dressed like a crazy professor. “Hi?” he greeted, not sure what had brought this on. The other boy grinned and offered his hand. “I’m André. I’m friends with…” suddenly he chuckled to himself and changed his posture and voice to fit his character more. “I mean I am a humble servant to Prince Roman. I have heard you have allied yourself with him for the day?” he inquired. Virgil chuckled. “Depending on how it goes the alliance might last past midnight,” he allowed. Then, as if on cue, the doubt started to creep in. “You have a problem with that?” he asked slightly challenging. “No my liege, never!” André assured him. “We have all been eager to meet you. A friend of the prince, after all, is already family to us.” It was exaggerated, but the sentiment was clear. He wasn’t seen as a threat, in fact he was already considered part of the group even if he never hung out with them. Before Virgil could really say anything the class started. André joined him on their way to the cafeteria and asked about how he did his hair and where he got his hoodie. He was halfway asking for a commissioned jacket when they entered the cafeteria and Virgil was pulled towards a table in the middle by an excited Roman. “At last there you are. It’s time to introduce these cryptids to their new rulers!” Virgil looked up at Roman who gave him a questioning look. He could decline, return to his little bubble of anonymity and pretend this never happened. But… Maybe, hiding away all his life wasn’t how he wanted to live it? So, why not? No hiding today. Or not unless he really had to. “With pleasure Princey,” he grinned, feeling satisfaction in being the cause of Roman’s delight once more. He did that. It was worth whatever Jan threw at him later.

They spent about ten minutes on improv and Roman managed to make Virgil forget about the audience completely. And when he, regretfully, left Roman to sit with Janus he could hear the whispers. But no one was laughing at him. There were so many looks of awe and admiration, it couldn’t not give him a little ego boost. “Talk about putting yourself on blast! What were you thinking?” Janus seethed. “Yolo,” Virgil shrugged, grinning as he imagined his dad saying it. “No one says that anymore,” Janus reprimanded. “It’s what I was thinking,” Virgil shrugged. Already planning his next act of defiance. He felt kind of bad taking advantage of his dad’s first date nerves and his worry for him, but if this was his teen rebel phase then there were worse things he could be doing while his dad was out of the house. “Are you sure…” “Yes! Just have a nice time. Text when you arrive at the restaurant and when you leave. I don’t have school tomorrow so don’t hurry home,” Virgil assured his dad. “Pat, steal his phone if he checks it even once during dinner,” he then instructed his dad’s date. “I will,” Patton winked. “Good, you crazy kids have fun and don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to do,” he grinned teasingly. “Virgil!” his father chastised. “Love you too!” he shouted as he shut the door in his father’s face. Then he rushed upstairs and took out the vampire cape he’d worn for the trick or treaters this year. He then put on a black long sleeved shirt, black jeans and black converses and a cheap black zoro mask. He wasn’t planning on being seen tonight but if he was, he’d rather not be recognizable… and maybe the cape was more for dramatic flair. Roman’s antics had been kind of fun and he wanted to try it out for himself. No one was going to see it anyway. And if he liked it he might make himself a proper costume for future outings. He walked through some sketchy streets until he found what looked like a gang waiting for a victim. They didn’t see him thanks to his cloak and he hid himself in the shadows not too far from them. He took a deep breath and willed them to forget about their surroundings and instead focus on each other. It was easy when people were either not the sharpest mind or not really paying attention. He’d only gotten past his dad that one time because he’d moved in absolute silence. And that trick had taken a lot of energy. His peers in the hallways were easy because most weren’t even watching where they were going let alone trying to see where he was. This was a large group, but they were kind of preoccupied with their conversation and not very smart. So it was easy making them ignore the hand full of lost people that passed them by in a hurry that night. A buzzing in his pocket caught his attention. He checked who it was. Janus. That could wait. He wondered what other ways he could use his cloak for the greater good. Another buzz in his pocket. He checked. His dad. “Paying now, home in ten minutes.” That was his cue to go home. He’d only seen three would be victims, but those were three people who got home safe to their families and might not have otherwise. That was something. He knew that to him, one person coming home or not was everything. So feeling satisfied with his first attempt at true heroism he moved through the streets and hurried home. He just managed to hide his mask and hang away his cloak before he heard the front door. He threw on his headphones and put on some music while he sat himself on his bed. Hoping he’d look like he’d been distracting himself with music. Maybe it would be better if he wore more casual street clothes next time. There was a knock on the door and he pulled off his headphones. “Come in!” he called. His dad poked his head inside and let out a sigh of relief when he found him on the bed, not having a panic attack. “You should be asleep,” he pointed out gently. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you good night. How was it?” The soft look on his father’s face said it all. “I will brief you in the morning. Now you should get adequate rest. Sleep deprivation is detrimental to both your physical health and creativity.” Virgil thought it was kind of funny how his dad had started to use his artistic ambitions as motivation to take care of himself lately. “Okay, night dad,” he muttered in surrender as he got up to get ready for bed. “Night Virgil… I love you.” Virgil smiled. Dad was never one for saying the words. But ever since the start of this year he seemed to be making an effort to change that. It was nice. Virgil had always known, but hearing it meant more than he’d expected it would. “Love you too dad,” he told him, once more feeling a little guilty about sneaking out, and for planning on doing more of these dangerous things. But he was sick and tired of playing it safe all the time. He had the ability to protect others. He should use it for more than just some bullies. Science class was a lot more fun now that he and Roman were talking. It wasn’t very personal. They just exchanged witty banter and complained about school stuff. If he confided in Roman, Janus would hear and he didn’t want to upset him even more. Turns out Janus would absolutely bully others. Or well… Pick fights with classmates over little inconveniences. Luckily Roman wasn’t afraid of him like everyone else seemed to be. He even kept it somewhat civil, just staring him down until Janus backed off. Virgil wasn’t as patient. He didn’t like fighting in public like this, but he was just so done with this BS. Every confrontation made him wonder if this friendship was still good for either of them. But just because he was considering doing it didn’t mean he was ready to hear others outright say it. The rumors were one thing. People theorized on why Virgil was still friends with Janus now that he clearly showed his ‘true colors’ to him. All involved Janus being some sort of villainous mastermind and Virgil the tragic hero trying to save everyone at the cost of his own freedom, safety, or whatever. They were ridiculous, but he could deal. What hit him hard was when Roman voiced his concerns. Janus had been goading a senior into a fight, which was beyond weird. Janus knew that he couldn’t take him on. He always stayed far away from the arbitrary lines high school hierarchy drew between different years. Virgil wasn’t alone in breaking up the fight. Roman was talking the senior down while Virgil got Janus to follow him to their next class. The principle heard about the almost fight though and Janus was called out of class halfway through. Roman approached Virgil when they crossed paths on their way to their next classes. Still no Janus in sight. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly. Virgil nodded as he collected his things from his locker, unsure what to say to Roman on this unfamiliar topic. This felt much more vulnerable than their usual chats. “Listen… I’m probably way out of line, but I don’t think I can handle seeing him use you like this any longer…” he started and Virgil, while he knew that Roman was absolutely right and that he probably should take the help he was offering, switched to survival mode. He didn’t want Roman of all people to see what a mess he really was. So he snapped. “You are right. You are way out of line. You don’t have the full picture and you have as much right to tell me what to do with who as Janus. So back off!” he growled before storming off. He regretted every word before he was even around the corner. That night he worked for hours on an apology. The next day he slipped Roman the note. It basically said that he appreciated the worry, but that he had it handled. Along with an apology for being a rude idiot. Roman tucked the note away and gave him a thumbs up to show it was okay. His dad’s date with Patton went well. Not a day went by where Virgil didn’t hear at least one thing about Patton, good or bad. Apparently his father could get a little frustrated with Patton’s humor and his excitement could be overwhelming at times. But even with all that the man made his dad happy with his warm and understanding nature. They’d only had one fight Virgil knew of, and that was resolved quickly. It was good to see his father be excited . It also made Virgil feel bad to realize he’d been so unhappy all this time because of… “Your father’s choices and issues are his to handle Virgil. It’s not fair of you to put the responsibility of his happiness on you.” Virgil looked up and sat back upright in the couch, folding his legs underneath him and studying his nails. He’d gotten a new galaxy polish the day before. He briefly wondered if Roman would notice. He always seemed to see it when Virgil changed something about himself. He forced himself to return his attention to the conversation at hand. Picani probably had a point. Still… “He’s known Patton for years, and I’m pretty sure they’ve both been interested in each other for a long time… if not for me…” “If not for you he might not have taken the job at the university in the first place. It’s like in The Prince of Egypt. When Mozes found himself in the nomad’s camp he felt unworthy of their kindness. But the priest told him that it wasn’t a single man’s place to judge the worth of his life. You’d have to take a step back and oversee all the people you’ve met and the effects you’ve had on their lives and how that ripples throughout the world around them.” “Wow, a movie. Out of cartoon references?” Virgil teased, choosing to table the doctor’s point to think about later. “I like to broaden my repertoire from time to time,” Picani admitted. “So… Have you told your prince yet?” he queries letting go of the subject in favor of another tough discussion. “I… We are barely friends. I don’t want to push him away like that.” He expected Picani to draw a comparison to Kim Possible or something. But the doctor could surprise him sometimes. “Could it be that your father had similar reasons not to pursue a romantic connection until now? Out of fear of upsetting a status quo he felt comfortable with?” Virgil frowned as he considered that. Maybe, maybe he had a point. His dad was one for schedules and predictability. A new addition to their family dynamic would shake that up. So, maybe his dad had needed a shove in the right direction. Should he… No Roman is straight. Nothing good is going to come from this. “You mentioned that he said he hadn’t expected to care so much for you. Sometimes you don’t know what you want or need until it falls into your lap. Your father didn’t know he wanted a son until he had one. And similarly he might not have known he needed a partner until you shoved him and Dr. Bonnaire together.” That…Well he had a point there, maybe. He also made Virgil feel so relaxed at times that he wanted to open up about  his gift, even if just a little. Just mention that sometimes weird things happened. But he wasn’t sure if being gifted was one of those ‘if you might put yourself or others in danger’ exceptions to doctor patient confidentiality. Being a hero in the shadow’s had downsides though. He wasn’t authorized to make arrests. He didn’t have any kind of professional protection or equipment, and the police didn’t know who he is and to let him do his thing. Virgil had decided how he wanted to change the city though. He would listen in on conversations, record them without risk of being caught. And if those recordings ended up with the police and that lead to actual arrests... well that was almost as good then wasn’t it? He had plans for more daring escapades later. When he got better at healing and hiding. Baby steps. But that rule couldn’t apply to everything. After almost two years of dancing around Janus’ jealousy and his own wishes to make some other friends, the straw that broke the camel’s back came in a startling realization that brought everything crashing down. “Sociology would be a good choice.” Virgil hummed absentmindedly as he chewed on his sandwich and looked over the offered elective classes. The past two years he hadn’t been sure what to take and joined Janus in whatever he picked. But after a full year of hearing Roman encouraging his art, he’d spent a few Friday afternoons in the studio. He’d been surprised at how accommodating and understanding the other artists were. They saw him work with his headphones on and left him alone. No one looked at his art if he didn’t want them to and they didn’t care if he looked at theirs when they displayed it. They even asked him his opinions on their pieces. And rumors about his ‘talent’ had joined the whispers in the hallway he listened in on every now and then. “I was thinking to take an art elective,” he told Janus. “Why?” The question surprised Virgil. “Because I’d like to actually learn some techniques? I dunno. They say to pick something that fits our interests. I’m interested in art,” he explained a little annoyed. “But we can’t do anything with that in college,” Janus pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose it’s a decent extracurricular,” he allowed before going off in a rant: “though something with sports will be better. College’s eat that stuff up…” Janus kept talking but Virgil didn’t really listen anymore. He just realized something. Jan never stopped talking about decisions he made as if they were for the both of them. Even now he talked as if Virgil would even consider joining the football or debate team with him. Virgil who hated public speaking and would have a panic attack at the thought of football practice alone and all the injuries that could happen. “But… I really want to do art. The new teacher is a pretty awesome artist I’ve been kind of following for a while. This might be my only chance to learn from him,” Virgil pointed out. He really hoped that Jan had just not realized he was talking as if Virgil would follow him wherever he went. “Don’t be dramatic V. It’s not like you can make a career out of drawings.” Virgil thought back to every time Roman had praised him and said he had potential. Wasn’t that how friends were supposed to act? His dad, who had the job of keeping his feet on the ground was more supportive of his interest in art than Janus was being. “It makes me happy,” he muttered feeling hurt and rejected in a weird way. “A career isn’t about what makes you happy, it’s about what gets you ahead in life.” And the tone made it clear that Janus wasn’t going to talk about the subject any more. That was fine with Virgil. He too, had made a decision. The next appointment he sat himself on the edge of the couch and looked at Picani with an intense determination. “I’m ready.”

A hard won victory. 

  Masterpost

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[anonniemousefics]

My Dearest Inej | Chapter Six

Chapter Masterlist

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up

Synopsis: A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

Chapter Six: Dear Nina

Hello, lovely,  

Some news and a request. I am going away on an assignment for the next several months, and this one’s rather sensitive. It means I’ll be out of reach for a time. Don’t worry your wonderful Inej brain about it, though. You know very well I’ll be just fine.  

Here’s how I’m thinking we make due in the meantime. I’m writing down all my adventures and silly thoughts to send you as soon as it’s safe, and then we’ll be able to catch up in no time at all when all is right with the world again. You should do the same. Once I’m able, I’ll send a giant wad of letters along with where I can be reached to the Van Eck mansion for Wylan to hold on to for you until your next trip to Ketterdam. There. Not so bad, right?  

I miss you more than cake. And that’s not an exaggeration. Be safe, lovely. And give them all hell.

All my love,

Nina

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

(enclosed in an overstuffed envelope marked “Nina”)

(translated from Kerch)

Dear Nina,  

Your last letter has made me grouchy. I don’t know if there would have ever been a good time for you to fall off the map, but I think there could have at least been a better time than this. I’ll take your suggestion, though, and settle for trying to imagine your face when I tell you these things. When you read this, let’s imagine that we’re at that cafe in West Stave. The one with the little white tables outside. You’ve ordered enough waffles to feed five men, and I’m all hopped up on hot chocolate, and we can’t stop snickering. It’ll happen again someday, right?  

I’m going to use this letter to take a break in entertaining you with stories of battle at sea and the many delightful ways in which bad men beg. I’m docked in Ketterdam today with my head dangerously full of some truly mortifying events. I don’t know what to do, Nina. Keep eating your imaginary waffles – I’m going to offload a great many details and bring you up to speed.

I’ve told you that Kaz and I write letters. That they’re sort of a romantic nature. I know you think I’m crazy. I’m well aware that I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know -- there’s just something about him I can’t give up yet. And I love these letters. They’ve become the first thing I pick up at every new port. They’re these little slices of Ketterdam – all of the good stuff, that is, and none of the bloodshed.

It’s dangerous, though, isn’t it? Only getting the good side of things. It messes with your perception of reality.  

It should surprise no one that Kaz Brekker is good with pen and paper, considering how we’ve seen him con. Sometimes I worry that’s what letter-writing really is to him. Another way to con. He says things in letters that you could not even imagine, Nina. He can be affectionate. He can be really funny, maybe even playful. He can also write the most sincere, heartfelt sentences. You read them, and you really forget he’s, well, Brekker. It’s almost like, when he writes me, he’s not. Like some other side comes out when he picks up a pen, and it’s the side I’ve always hoped was really there all along.  

I’m such a goner for this other side, Nina. It’s become a problem. Try not to spit out those imaginary waffles.  

It’s a problem because, in person, when I’m in Ketterdam, he’s still Kaz Brekker, the persona, the enigma. It started messing with my head, because there is such a stark contrast between Kaz Brekker the enigma and the Kaz who writes me these insanely charming letters. That’s not to say Kaz Brekker isn’t trying to be less enigmatic, but it’s little things. He can take off his gloves more now without having violent reactions to a brush of skin. He’s managed to hold my hand for a few, brief moments. I’ve tried to cozy up to him, but I don’t know. It’s impossible to know what he thinks of it, if he likes it, if he hates it, if he resents it – until a letter shows up. And then he’s writing, “I miss you” and “I’m dreaming of tasting your lips.” (I’m imagining you making that silly fanning yourself gesture, and I really hope that’s true. Saints, I miss you.)

I’m rambling so much. I wish you were just here instead.  

He wrote me this letter after Jesper’s birthday, Nina. Ughhh, why are you so far away? It was a really good letter. A really, really good letter. We had a moment during this hot air balloon ride (yet another reason you need to come back to visit Ketterdam – we do birthday experiences now). Jesper and Wylan were on one side of the balloon’s basket, wrapped up in each other and all the sights with their backs to us. And, out of nowhere, he pulled me close, tucked me right up against his side, close enough that I couldn’t help but hold him back. At first, I could actually feel his heart racing and thought maybe he’d pull away. But he settled after a minute, and we rode in the balloon for a good while like that, stars overhead, city lights below. That was all, and it was more than enough for me. I still think about it all the time. He told me later that he thought it was a nice night, and so I thought it best to leave it at that. We had a nice night. Nice, like when your dinner isn’t ruined or someone opens a door for you.

But this letter that awaited me in Os Kervo. You know Suli, right? So, if I use the phrase (nearest translation: “I shit a brick”), you’ll understand just how shocked I was. He wrote how he never wanted to forget that night and the way I looked and the way he felt. It was perfectly un-Brekker-like. It might have made you cry.

The contrast has never seemed so stark.  

And so it came down to this: I needed to know that Kaz Brekker in Ketterdam was capable of actually being this person who keeps showing up in envelopes and using his name.

Which brings me to my most recent trip to Ketterdam. This was the trip after the hot air balloon ride. Before I arrived, he asked if I wanted to stay in the Slat this trip – with him. Don’t choke on your waffles, please. Nothing was going to happen – he can barely hold my hand for more than a few minutes, and at least one of the times it’s happened, I had to bribe him with Ravkan toffees first.

I had one condition for this arrangement. I wanted to bring letters for him to read aloud. Perhaps most incredibly, he agreed.

Right. This is where it gets ugly.  

I’d spent the day at The Slat. Usually my first day on land, I find I’m unusually exhausted, and everything in The Slat is fresh and new since Seeger’s fire – I’d even venture to say comfortable. I slept most of the day, a luxury I know you’d appreciate. I was up around dinnertime, and he’d brought in dinner. (It was those meatballs and mash pots we used to love so much. I hope I’ll be able to eat them again after this without wanting to hurl.)

Dinner seemed like a good time to try out the letter reading. We’d spread out the food on his desk and passed a bottle of kvas back and forth to lighten the mood before he rolled up his sleeves and I gave him the first one. I had tried to pick a variety of his letters to bring along, the ridiculous ones right up to the one I can’t get over – the one after the hot air balloon ride.

Before you get too excited, we didn’t get to the hot air balloon ride letter.

It was going so well in the beginning. My cheeks were hurting from smiling so hard, listening to so many charming words come from that voice. He seemed to be enjoying it even – feet up on the desk, a sip of kvas here, read an old joke there, and he’d try not to smirk to himself when it made me laugh. He even let one of his own laughs slip once or twice. It was just what I wanted. I felt like I was finally putting together a whole picture out of two halves.

But then we came to this letter he’d given to me on the docks of Fifth Harbor, thanking me just before I left after Seeger’s fire. I was getting ready to hand it over to him, and my heart dropped right into my feet. Nina. I’d forgotten I’d written something really, really, REALLY embarrassing in the margins. Just. Sankta Alina. I don’t know if I can repeat it.  

I tried to skip over that one, but he was having none of it. Everything had been playful and a little flirtatious up until that moment, and he swiped it from my hands. Sankta Elizabeta, my face is burning up while I’m writing this. Tell me this is salvageable. Oh, wait, you’re in backwoods Fjerda or something. Ugh, why, Nina, why?  

Everything got really quiet – he’d seen it right away. I could tell he was surprised, but that was it. I have no idea what else was happening in that brain of his.

What it was was this. I’d made a note of how different he was on paper and labeled that Kaz by his original name. I’d written that I like Kaz Brekker, but after these letters, I was in love with Kaz Rietveld.  

NINA. (Untranslatable Suli vulgarities)

I snatched the letter back – he wasn’t even making eye contact with me. He hadn’t even budged. It was too horrible. The silence felt never-ending. So, I left. That was yesterday. Now I’m staying on the Wraith. Maybe forever.  

I have to say something, and I wish you were here to help me figure out what to say. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there are fragments of lessons and sayings my father would have about this, if I could only cobble them in to something coherent. I’m trying and trying to imagine how he must be feeling.

He couldn’t have been that surprised about my feelings, could he? Not after all this time, not everything we’ve written. It’s not as if I’ve been terribly coy. I’m forcing myself to believe he would not be horrified to know how I feel. No, there’s something else.

How awful it must feel to think someone you trusted finds only a part of you lovable.

I have some soul-searching to do, Nina.

Come back.  

Inej

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

(hand-delivered, unaddressed envelope)

Dear Inej,  

I’ve spent the whole night thinking, and I have some things to say. I won’t read this one out loud, so if you have a hard time believing it’s me, I guess you’ll just need to get creative.  

I know you’re embarrassed. You might remember I have intimate knowledge of what it’s like to be in your position. At first, I wanted nothing more than to ease your mind and put everything back the way it was. There was a large part of me that was awestruck that you’d find even a small, half-dead remnant of myself worthy of loving. I was ready to crawl back to you and do anything to erase this moment from time.

But then I realized that’s not a fair deal to Kaz Brekker.

And before you start making faces, I’m not becoming one of those politicians that likes to bloviate in the third person. Just for the sake of clarity in this letter alone, I’ll use the labels that you used.  

Inej, Kaz Brekker saved my life. Yours, too. And a lot of other people’s. Kaz Brekker could find me food and dry clothes and shelter when there was no one else. Kaz Brekker has fixed and built and risked and fought and salvaged. And yes, there are a good many things he’s terrible at, like not being an unmitigated asshole. He is not friendly or particularly kind, and he’s rarely truthful. There are many things he should never have done. He’s done unthinkable things he’s not even sorry for. Trust me, Inej. When it comes to hating Kaz Brekker, I have a front row seat.  

But the only reason there’s a Kaz Rietveld here for you to love at all is because Kaz Brekker brought him this far.  

At first, my instinct was to write a letter detailing all the many ways I can become more like the man you love. And that’s not to say there isn’t some wisdom in trying to coax him out a bit more – you tend to have good taste in most things. There’s probably some value in striking a balance.

But Kaz Brekker is part of the deal. You can’t have one without the other. There is a lot about him – about me -- that I would not and will not change. So, I need to know that you see the same value in him. In all of me. Because, if you can’t, I’m not sure it will matter how much I’m in love with you, too.  

And to think we might have avoided this whole mess if I just would have let you bring a flute. To that I say, mati en sheva yelu. I am in love with you even if you play a damn flute.

Are you smiling at least a little bit? I hope so.

Sincerely,

K. Rietveld

[myherowritings]

Paparazzi

— “[pro!baku x pro!reader where] they go on the date but paparazzi will not leave them alone due to the public being obsessed with their relationship...so they leave and bakugou takes her to his house instead where he cooks for her & they share a cute little kiss but paparazzi caught it through the window & it’s kinda aired everywhere. thank you!!” by anonymous

pairing: pro hero!bakugou x pro hero!reader word count: 1.9k genre: pro hero au, celeb au vibes, fluff

a/n: this was requested as a part two for slip of the tongue, but you don’t need to read anything prior to understand! it’s just our fav couple being frustrated at the paparazzi and taking matters into their own hands ;)

“You know, as glad as I am to finally go out with you, this isn’t exactly how I imagined our first date as a public couple would be.”

“Don’t worry,” he muttered, glaring at the glass doors. “I feel the same way.”

Another flash of light burst through the faintly tinted windows of the restaurant as you and Bakugou tried to enjoy the complimentary bread despite the annoying interruptions.

This was your first date with Ground Zero since the two of you made your relationship public (all thanks to Deku’s drunken congratulations post, mind you) and it was somehow even more chaotic than you could have ever imagined.

The minute the two of you arrived down the street, clusters of paparazzi were already stationed at each corner. For the most part, they kept their distance, but as the night grew older, their shamelessness only intensified.

“The press were never this bad before,” you said with a sigh.

“That’s because the entirety of Japan wasn’t obsessed with our relationship before.”

There was a deep scowl etched onto Katsuki’s face and you reached across the table to smooth the lines down with your thumb.

“Don’t be upset, hon,” you soothed, despite how frustrated you were yourself. Was a nice, peaceful date with your no-longer secret boyfriend really too much to ask for? “They’ll leave us alone soon enough.”

But even as you said that, you knew they wouldn’t. The paparazzi were relentless, some camping out for hours just for a chance at an exclusive, juicy shot.

“Ground Zero! Ground Zero!” a particularly bold man asked, voice muffled by the glass as he knocked on the window.

Katsuki’s eyes widened, looking around the restaurant frantically. “What the fuck? How is this allowed?!” But when the waitstaff continued to walk by, unperturbed, he began to grow more agitated. “Five stars my ass!”

Placing your hand atop his, you gave it a gentle squeeze, taking deep breaths as your patience thinned. “It’s fine. Just ignore them. We can ask to move tables and everything will be fine--”

“Y/H/N! Y/H/N! You and Red Riot were spotted at the beach last weekend looking very cozy! How does your boyfriend feel about that?”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Bakugou, slamming his palms on the edge of the table and standing up to stalk closer to the window. “One more peep out of your mouth and I’ll wring your--!”

You yelped, jumping out of your seat as you tugged on his arm. “Watch yourself, Ground Zero.”

Raising your eyebrows, you emphasized his hero name. As burdening as it was, citizens looked up to Pro Heroes… Including young, impressionable kids. You wanted to put the nosy paparazzi in place as much as he did, but you knew the story could be spun easily to make Bakugou look like the bad guy.

“Let’s just head somewhere else,” you coaxed, lacing your fingers through his as you dropped a wad of cash on the table. (What for? You weren’t sure. It had been fifteen minutes since you sat down and they still hadn’t taken your order. All you ate was a roll of free bread.)

He snorted, smoothing your hair down to let you know he wasn’t upset at you. “Fine. But if there’s one more interruption I swear I’ll--”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a big and tough Pro Hero,” you teased. “You’d have them trembling in their shoes.”

“Damn right I would.”

Laughing as you exited through the back of the restaurant, you gave Bakugou a quick peck on the cheek, glad his mood was lifted even the slightest. You hated seeing him upset and you’d be damned if you were to let him lose control over some paparazzi.

Before anyone could catch sight of the two of you, Katsuki unlocked his black, tinted car, first opening the passenger’s side and waiting for you to enter before rushing to the driver’s seat.

You let out a sigh of relief when he pulled out of the area with no one on your trail.

“Where are we going now?” you asked over the quiet hum of the road. You knew Bakugou was looking forward to treating you out, and you hoped he wasn’t too frustrated from having to end the outing early.

He huffed. “Well since the restaurant date was ruined, I was thinking we can head to my place.”

You perked up, already liking the sound of that.

“I can cook something for us,” he said nonchalantly. “It’d probably taste better than the food from that place-- But we’ll never know for sure, will we?”

As his tone grew bitter, a small giggle escaped your lips at the sight of his pouty expression.

“No, I suppose we’ll never knew,” you agreed with an amused grin. “But maybe it happened for a reason? After all, I’ve been waiting years to try Ground Zero’s infamous cooking.”

Though your tone was playful, your words with sincere. You had been hearing stories of what a talented chef he was since Class 1-A went to the camping grounds, but you had never thought the day would come when your favorite Pro Hero would actually cook for you.

You could hardly contain your excitement, bouncing up and down in your seat as he drove closer to his house.

“We’re here,” announced Bakugou.

“Yay!” you cheered, following after him as he unlocked the front door.

You slipped your shoes off before entering his house, the interior looking just as spotless and neat as the last time you were over-- Not that you expected anything less than tidy from him.

Placing his hand on the small of your back, he lead you to his living room. “Here. You can sit down and watch some television while I cook you something.”

You started at the comfortable-looking couch before turning back to Katsuki and shaking your head.

“How about…” you trailed off, hoping the question you were about to ask wouldn’t seem as weird coming out of your mouth as it was in your head. “Would it be okay if I watched you in the kitchen instead?”

He glanced over at you in surprise.

“I-- Um… I want to see you cook. And maybe I can even help out!” you let out in one rushed breath.

A rare, rather embarrassed smile graced his features as he nodded nonchalantly. “I guess I wouldn’t mind.”

The two of you made your way to his well-lit kitchen near the front entrance of the house, Bakugou’s warm hand never leaving its place against the curve of your hip.

“What are you going to make?” you asked as he pulled away to get the ingredients from the refrigerator.

“Something I think you’ll really like,” was his vague reply.

You watched as he worked away in the kitchen, occasionally joining him to wash and chop some vegetables.

By the time he was done with the preparations and started the actual roasting and baking process, you were so entranced by his swift movements that you could hardly tear your gaze away.

“There,” Bakugou said in satisfaction, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead with his toned forearm.

With his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his cufflinks rolled up to just below his elbows, it was a wonder how you kept your self-control around him for this long.

“We just have to wait for the timer to go off and the food should be all done.” He walked over to you as your cheered. “In the meanwhile, I’ll make some dessert to pair with the meal.”

You blinked. As good as dessert sounded, being able to finally pull Bakugou into an embrace and give him a much needed kiss sounded significantly better. It didn’t help that a small trail of sweat dribbled down the side of his face to his neck.

Since when were you turned on by sweat? you scolded yourself, shaking your head.

“You don’t need to make dessert-- You’ve done more than enough,” you said, drawing him closer when you wrapped your arms around his torso. “Just take a break before the food is ready.”

You expected the hardheaded Ground Zero to put up more of a fight, but he simply hugged you back with a sigh.  “Fine. But only because I want to. Not being you asked.”

With a knowing grin, you cooed, “Aw, Kirishima was right. You are whipped.”

He pulled back suddenly with a snort. “He said I’m what?”

“That you are whipped,” you emphasized, pausing after each word. You held your hands up in a ‘V’ to frame your chin and cheeks as you gave him your best innocent and cute smile. “Whipped for me, of course. In case it wasn’t obvious.”

Bakugou scoffed, rolling his eyes at your audacity despite the amused expression threatening to take over his face.

“Baka,” he muttered, ruffling the top of your head. “You’re shameless.”

You beamed. “Only because I’m whipped too,” you admitted as you extended your arms out. “Now, come here. I have a few ideas for dessert.”

You leaned in to give him a kiss, but he moved his head to the side.

“We can’t have dessert before dinner,” he said haughtily. “It’s bad luck.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Well, I’m willing to take that risk.”

You stuck your tongue out, making a face. Katsuki scoffed, making one back.

With a laugh, you draped your arms around the back of his neck as he tilted your chin up. Your lips met his surprisingly soft and supple ones as one of his hands made its way down to your hip. Feeling your back press against the cool surface of the refrigerator, you deepened the kiss.

Katsuki nipped at your lower lip, a gentle sting against your skin, before soothing it with the tip of his tongue.

“Dessert’s sweet,” he murmured against the kiss, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards.

“Not as sweet as you,” you teased. “Softie.”

A low growl escaped him as he lifted you up and rested your back on the edge of the kitchen counter, proving to you that Bakugou was, in fact, not a softie. (Well, he was. For you. But you were willing to let him have this win.)

The two of you kissed until dinner was ready, and then kissed again when dinner was done.

It wasn’t until the next morning when you woke up in his arms that you checked your phone for the first time since you came over to his house. Your lockscreen was filled with notifications and Bakugou stirred awake when you gasped at a certain news article Deku sent you through private messages.

The article was the top story trending across social media and it displayed a blown up image of you and Ground Zero intensely making out against the granite counter from last night. It was taken through the window of his kitchen and you mentally scolded yourselves for not being more careful.

Spotting the photograph from over your shoulder, Katsuki hummed behind you, a deep vibration you felt through his chest.

“I told you dessert before dinner was bad luck,” he said, voice raspy from just waking up.

You grinned sheepishly, kissing his cheek as a good morning greeting. “Worth it.”

a/n: HONESTLY I’M GRINNING AT THE CUTENESS THIS IS PROB ONE OF MY FAV BAKU FICS I’VE WRITTEN LOL (until like 2 hours later when i decide i hate it again) thank u for reading! xx

[alj4890]

Flirty Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the following conversation as a prompt given by @prompt-nonny

Amanda: "You're so full of it." Thomas: "I prefer 'confident'." Amanda: "You would, you crazy man." Thomas: "You are so sweet." Amanda: "I hate you sometimes." Thomas: "I love you too." Have fun 😘 -Prompt Nonny ❤

A/N Thank you for the prompt! LOL! I had to include some other characters from Red Carpet Diaries in this to gauge their reactions. Hope you enjoy it and look forward for more prompts for my pairs. 

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment   @krsnlove   @annekebbphotography  @cora-nova @bella-ca  @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

Taken from Another Night/Another Dream series.

And Scene!

Thomas stood on the stage he normally had his students act out the different scenes they composed in their small groups. His signature frown was firmly in place while he studied the placement of the furniture for tomorrow's lesson.

His day had been wretched. It started with his coffeemaker breaking this morning, then the flat tire on the interstate, followed by ruining one of his favorite shirts to change said tire. Can't forget about the ridiculous answers on a set of exams his students turned in. Then the faculty meeting was beyond tedious. To top it all off, Amanda's visit was postponed.

The lady he had been dating and was currently engaged to was supposed to be here Monday. Then Tuesday. Wednesday, still no fiancee. Now it was Thursday. They were supposed to meet with the wedding planner tomorrow evening and he did not want to go without her. It had been nearly a month since they had been together and he was sick of being apart.

He ran a hand over his face while studying a scene that one of his students had turned in. The young man had a great deal of talent and Thomas believed he could go far if given the right opportunities. But this scene...

Perhaps it was because he was in such a foul mood that he could not appreciate the meet-cute nor the flirtation to follow. The accidental on purpose kiss was cliché at best, yet it seemed to fit the tone of the rest of the scene.

"I always love seeing handsome men on stage."

Thomas whirled around in surprise. Amanda stood in the doorway of his auditorium and smiled. His own smile, the first one in quite a while, came up as he hopped down and met her halfway. He pulled her into a passionate embrace and held her close.

"Does the theater always do this to you or is it that you missed me?" Amanda teased.

"You know very well what caused this." He muttered against her lips. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming this evening?"

"I wasn't certain what time I would be landing, so I thought I would surprise you." She kissed him once more before sitting down. "Holly told me you were staying late at the university, so I decided to stop here first." She glanced at the stage and the papers in his hand. "I didn't mean to interrupt your work."

He urged her out of the chair and over to the stage. "You are never an interruption. Besides, I could use another perspective."

Amanda smiled at him and laughed nervously. "I'm not exactly known for my theater talents. I can talk all day about film history, but this..." She waved her hand at the theater room. "This is completely out of my wheelhouse."

"You give yourself too little credit." He told her, his frown fierce once more. "Your intelligence and ability to critique something logically and without insult is vastly superior to most people's."

"Careful." Amanda wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him close to her. "Compliments like that will have me acting in a way that I'm certain is discouraged in the student handbook." She stood on her tiptoes and captured his lips in a heated kiss.

"This simply makes me grateful that you are not a student." He muttered against her neck. His hands moved down to cup her backside, pressing her closer. "Therefore the rules do not apply."

"And what would you have done, Professor Hunt, if I had walked through that door as your student?" Her teasing smile brought his own to form.

"I suppose this would not be happening." He sat down on the antique chaise lounge and pulled her into his lap.

"Professor Hunt! I am surprised at you." Amanda nipped his ear gently before pressing another tender kiss to his lips. "What was it you wanted my opinion on?"

He exaggerated a groan at her ability to remain clear headed. He should have continued with his seduction before telling her he needed her help.

"Will you read this and tell me what you think?" He handed her the scene.

She got comfortable in his arms and smiled at the occasional brush of his lips against her neck as he read over her shoulder. His fingers slowly moved up and down her arm.

"You are being quite distracting." She whispered. He held her tighter to him and paused his movements.

"I didn't say stop." She kissed his cheek when he chuckled and continued to read while he resumed his own activities on her skin.

She set the paper down. "Hmm."

He cocked an eyebrow and waited.

"It has a great deal of potential." Amanda picked it up again. "Though this conversation," she pointed at the lines, "it seems so out of character for the two."

He reread it and nodded. "I agree. I think it throws their romance off for the audience."

"Exactly! They have both been so sweet to one another and then to transition to something like this...would it be believable or would people act surprised?" Her eyes lit up with mischief. "We should try it out!"

"What? Now?" He watched as excitment flooded over her.

"Yes! Let's see if we can't get a few friends to meet us for a late dinner or drinks?"

"You just arrived." He argued pulling her closer. "We can test this another--"

"Aren't you grading this tomorrow?" She asked.

Thomas could see it was a losing battle. He had discovered that when her mind was made up, it was nearly impossible to change it. "Very well." He stood up and held his hand out to her. With a sudden tug he had her in his arms. "Once this experiment is conducted, you are mine."

___________

A couple of hours later...

"I need wedding details please!" Addison exclaimed. "What is being decided tomorrow?"

"We are touring the final two optional places for the ceremony and reception. I believe we will most likely have the rehersal dinner there as well." Amanda pulled a small notebook out and flipped through the pages. "Flowers and decorations too. Then Saturday is cake tasting and deciding on food."

Thomas watched her face light up while she discussed the upcoming wedding with Addison and Matt. He reached across the table and took her hand. Her smile glowed when her gaze met his and she gently squeezed his hand.

"We come bearing drinks." Ryan announced as he expertly flourished a tray.

"Impressive." Matt chuckled when Holly rolled her eyes.

"Don't encourage him. His ego is big enough." She sat back down and winked at Ryan when he placed her drink in front of her.

"Did you ever wait tables?" Amanda asked.

"No, but my first acting job was as a handsome waiter." He waggled his eyebrows at the group, causing snorts and laughter. "I'm simply quoting the script."

"Perfect timing." Addison pointed toward the pool table that was available. "Who's ready to play first?"

"I say Hunt and future Hunt against me and Holly." Ryan suggested. "Winners take on the ridiculously dynamic duo."

"I can't help that not only am I incredibly talented at pool, but that I am with a natural born hustler." Matt wrapped his arm around Addison. She pressed a kiss to his lips, giggling at the playful boos and wadded napkins thrown at them.

Amanda hung back a few paces with Thomas while the others walked over to the pool table. "Ready for your scene Mr. Hunt?"

He nodded. "Let's get this over with." He leaned down close to her ear and whispered what he had planned for the rest of the evening.

"Hurry up!" Holly yelled out. "Some of us would like to kick your butts at pool!"

Thomas picked up a pool cue and handed it to Amanda. She shook her head with a laugh and pushed it back. "Let me see what you've got."

A wicked grin appeared on his face. "At the beginning of my career--"

"Are we talking pre-underwear or post-underwear model era?" Ryan asked.

Amanda nearly choked on her drink at Thomas's glare.

"During." He answered. "As I was saying, one of the photographers would try and loosen everyone up by having us shoot a few games of pool."

"So you and the other models were in your underwear holding your pool sticks?" Holly teased. Ryan spit his drink out and stared at her in surprise.

"Yes." Thomas ignored the innuendo. "Much like my talent at modeling," he winked surreptitiously to Amanda, "I developed quite a bit of talent at billiards."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "You're so full of it."

The other two couples stared at her in shock. They had never heard her speak in such a way. Her teasing was usually sweet and directed toward herself.

Thomas leaned down and struck the cue ball with enough force to scatter the balls. A striped ball went into one of the pockets. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he lined up for another shot. "I prefer 'confident'."

He knocked another striped ball in a corner pocket and moved around the table.

Amanda shook her head in mock frustration. "You would, you crazy man."

Thomas purposely took his time to line up the next shot. "You are so sweet." His tone was nothing but sarcasm.

Addison stared wide eyed at the couple. She met Holly's concerned gaze and bit her lip wondering how to stop what had to be an argument occurring.

When another striped ball dropped in a pocket. Amanda groaned and dropped her head forward. "I hate you sometimes."

Holly gasped. Ryan placed his hand on hers to stop her from interfering. What happened to the two people that were nearly gushing with happiness while talking about their wedding? Matt had a comforting arm around Addison as her lip trembled waiting to hear Thomas's response.

He looked up at Amanda. "I love you too." His shot glanced off the side and he handed the cue to Ryan. "You're up."

Ryan took it silently as they all watched him walk back over to where Amanda sat. The two couples were shocked to see the pair share a tender kiss and a few words that none could hear.

Ryan messed up his shot for constantly looking up to see if they were truly okay. He handed the pool cue to Amanda who smiled happily and studied the table.

"There is no way I am near as good as you." She said over her shoulder to Thomas. "If I were you, I would demand to pick partners next time."

"I would still pick you." Thomas told her, smiling softly when she beamed at him.

She knocked another striped in and missed her second shot. "Here you go Holly."

Holly stared in disbelief at Thomas pulling Amanda between his legs when she decided to stand next to his stool. She leaned back against him and kissed his cheek. They were talking too softly to be overheard again.

Holly threw the pool stick down on the table in frustration. She shook her finger at the two. "That's it! What is going on?"

Thomas and Amanda stared at her in confusion. "What are you talking about?" He asked.

"THIS!" She motioned at them. "Am I crazy or were you two not acting like someone had taken over your bodies earlier?"

"I don't know what you mean." Amanda managed to say with a straight face.

Holly strangled on a frustrated sound and turned to the others to back her up.

"You were so sarcastic and mean." Addison explained. "You actually said you hated Thomas!"

"Now you act like nothing happened!" Holly finally managed to get out.

Amanda bit her lip and looked at Thomas. "We have to tell them or else they are going to hate me."

"I think we must. I can't have them thinking anything like that." He turned his attention to the group that was now even more confused. "We were acting out a scene."

"What?" Matt asked. "A scene? Why?"

Amanda pulled it out of her purse and handed it over to them to read. "The couple seemed like us in some aspects, yet that conversation seems out of place for the two. We thought we would try it out and see if it was us comparing their relationship to ours."

The four read it and gave their opinions. "I think it fits this pair in the scene." Matt said. "You two on the other hand, no."

"I'm with Matt." Holly added.

"Me too." Ryan replied. "And don't ever scare us like that again. I think you took ten years off my life, which means I will start being cast in father of the bride roles." He dramatically shuddered.

Addison shook her head. "I agree with Thomas and Amanda. This couple is too sweet in this story."

"Three against three." Thomas sighed as he took the paper back. "I suppose I will have to wait until they act it out and see the tone of the scene they intend to have before grading it."

"And I promise I won't say I hate Thomas." Amanda added. Her smile grew in mischief. "Except when we play cards. Then all bets are off."

Thomas shook his head and placed some money down. "Since we made you are test subjects in this little experiment, enjoy another round on us. I have an early class tomorrow, so we are leaving."

"All is forgiven." Ryan reassured them. "Or it will be after the next round."

Amanda chuckled and said her goodbyes as she slipped her hand in Thomas's.

Once back at his home, he kept the lights off as he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Her surprised laughter caused him to pause.

"I told you this would happen." He pressed his lips to hers again.

"You're so full of it." Amanda teased while unbuttoning his shirt.

His smile briefly appeared before he groaned at her caress. "I prefer 'confident'." Their lips met again in a heated exchange.

"In this context, it works." Her words were muffled under his lips.

"Yes, it does." Thomas pulled her upstairs. "Forget about that script. Right now, the only thing I want you focusing on is the infamous love scene."

"Yes, Professor Hunt." She mumbled before being kissed.

[writingwitchly]

Books, coffee, and... warm hearts

Pairing: modern muggle!Remus x reader

Word count: 2k 

Second one shot of the Essence series

A/N: @siriuslyimmoony as promised! ly gal <3 Please enjoy!

The coffeehouse displays its usual colors: sunset rays filtering through the windows, the green and white aprons of the waiters, and the kaleidoscopic wave of customers. A huge one. Loyal to its Saturday mood, the Coffee Behind the Book bar smells like caffeine, vanilla, and pastries.

From your table in the corner -- the one placed right in front of the first bookshelf of the shop -- you observe the swelling crowd that is slowly invading your favorite local, and congratulate yourself on the initiative of coming earlier today. As the soft buzzing of conversation and laughter starts to cover the ringing of the coffee machines, you put your headphones on, ready for a chocolate flavored dive into Pride and Prejudice.

«-when the door opened, and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered-»

A movement close in front of you diverts your attention from Lizzie Bennet’s internal confusion.

As you look up, your stare falls on a tall young man, looking twenty-something, who’s smiling down at you, a steaming cup in one of his hands, and a copy of And Then They Were None in the other. Scars -- a few lines darker than his skin -- stretch on his nose and cheeks and forehead, drawing interesting patterns on a face whose features express effortless nice looks. His deep brown eyes and mousy hair add a mysterious touch to his person, like cinnamon brings out chocolate’s most intense flavor. If, tonight on the news, something will be told about the Moon disappearing, you won’t have a slight doubt as to where it has gone: this guy’s smile looks like it.

He mouths something, and you frown, not understanding any of his words. With a gentle gesture, he points to your headphones.

You remove them in a haste, feeling your cheeks lighting up.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Cherry on top of the cake: a voice that sounds like honey.

Now that the music’s bubble has burst, the cacophony of the bar reaches your ears, accompanied by the overpresent smell of croissants. Without glancing sideways -- how could you? -- you understand that the other chair at your table must be the last one remained empty.

“I- um- Yes. I mean, yes that you can sit here, not that I mind. I don’t mind, at all. Of course. I- um- Go ahead.”

For Austen’s sake, Y/N, what on Earth?

Thankfully, the man’s manners seem to be proportional to his nice face, because he sits down with nothing more than the smile he has worn during the whole interaction.

“Thank you,” he says.

You attempt a smile, and run for cover behind the pages of your book.

«They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergence recollecting-»

After reading the same sentence thrice, without understanding it better, you take a peek at your table mate. Crossed-legged, with one arm next to his drink, and the other one holding his book, he seems very concentrated on Agatha Christie’s book. Without looking away from him, your hand goes for your own cup, but you hit it inadvertently, and a some of the chocolate caffeine splashes your wrists and fingers.

Panicking slightly, you look at the mess you’ve made, and wonder how you’ll dry yourself without dripping the liquid on your book, which stands between the napkins and your sticky hands.

There seems to be only one solution.

“Um- excuse me- could you please hand me a napkin?”

Handsome-young-man looks up from his story, and smiles at the sight of your coffee-covered hands. He grabs a couple of towels from the basket, and reaches out to help you himself.

Feeling that the temperature has climbed up too much in this darn small bar, you thank him as you finish wiping your arms.

“I can be so clumsy,” you excuse yourself.

He shakes the concern away with half a shrug, “Don’t worry. One of my best friends would make you seem nothing more than a beginner on the matter.” He leans back on his chair, but brings it a little closer to the table. “I’m Remus, by the way.”

You grin too, and look down to hide your blush.

“I’m- Y/N.”

“A pretty name for a pretty person,” Remus says heartily. “It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you answer with a wider grin. “Same for me, Remus.”

Fearing an awkward silence, you take a sip from your mug, and when you lay it down again, you find that Remus has gone back to Christie’s Devon.

With no other possibility, you reluctantly pick Pride and Prejudice up from the table.

«-and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him-»

“Y/N?”

Did you look up too fast?

Your name sounds good rolling down his tongue.

You gulp down. “Yes?”

“Could you please put that book back on the shelf?”

And he hands you the blue paperback.

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

As you grab it, your fingers brush, and the simple fact sends electricity running through your whole body. Careful to hide your troubled expression, you turn around and fit the book between two other mystery novels.

“Do you want any other?” you ask, not quite calm enough to face him again yet.

“Uh- Not really but- Do you have any recommendation? I think I’ve read everything that’s in here already.”

Forgetting about your shyness, you turn around and gawk at him. “You did?”

Seemingly glad to have surprised you, he exhales a small laugh, and shrugs. “I think I was the first customer to ever set a food inside here.”

Having arrived in town barely three months ago to attend a new year at university, you had discovered The Coffee Behind the Book just days after settling in your new apartment. From that day on, you have raced to read all of the volumes present in its library -- which is quite extended, to be honest. And you had never wondered how old it could be.

“When did they open?”

Remus looks at the entrance of the local, as if remembering the first day he had opened its door. “Around two years ago. I was just twenty.”

On its own accord, your mind makes up the addition: he’s just twenty-two.

“And you’ve seriously read every single novel displayed here?”

Remus leans forward, and whispers, “Are you doubting of my honesty, Y/N?”

You bite the inside of cheek, suppressing the foolishly gigantic grin that his playful tone threatens to provoke.

“Of course not, I’m just impressed.”

His eyes look even warmer, this close. They’re not totally brown: fine green flakes stretch from his pupil toward the exterior. Like fireworks.

“Have you read Madame Bovary, though? I haven’t seen it anywhere here.”

Remus tilts his head sideways, and narrows his eyes in an attempt to remember. “Sounds familiar, but only because I’ve heard it mentioned at uni lectures. Is it good?”

“No,” you huff. “Terribly boring.”

He laughs, and you smile a little more.

“Guess it’s not a rec, then?”

“It’s a rec to not read it, definitely.”

You set your elbows on the table, and start ripping a napkin to bits. Talking to a boy about books has never felt this good.

“Well, as we’re at it, I guess you’ll be very interested in knowing that you should never read City On Fire.”

“Never?” you burst. “I planned on reading it after this one! I thought it’d be good. I mean, the length says a lot.”

Remus shakes his head. “Reader newbies. Judging a book on its length.”

You throw one of yours wads to his face. “I’m not a newbie. I’ve been reading books since before I could walk!”

The man chuckles, and holds his palms up in defence. “Okay, sorry to have offended you, madame. But reading is not only about reading long novels or big books, you know. It’s about,” His eyes smile, and his lips follow. “Reading your surroundings too.”

“Surroundings?”

“Yeah,” he gives you another casual half shrug, which you’re starting to find terribly attractive. “Pay attention to what happens around you, to the people here and there.”

“And you think I’m a newbie at seeing stuff?” you ask, not weighting the weirdness of the question before it’s out of your mouth.

Remus snorts. “Well, you made me think I was nonexistent, earlier.”

“Oh, come on. I was just so absorbed by the book! Don’t pretend like it never happens to you.”

“Actually, no.”

“Are you kidding me?”

His laughter sounds like fairies and chocolate.

“I’m just teasing you. Of course it happens to me all the time. I’m a sucker at paying attention to anything.” Then, so low that you barely hear it, he adds, “Except to pretty bookworms in crowded coffee shops.”

To hide the increasing glow of your face, you shake your head.

His long fingers start fidgeting with the plastic flower that adorns the center of the wooden table, but his stare does not lose its focus on your face. Yours, however, travels to your surroundings. A group of teenagers on your right scream their delight over some phone conversation, while a couple of old ladies scowl at them from two tables away. A waiter, carrying more plates and cups than he looks like he could, speeds by like a modern version of Hermes. On your left, through the window, you can see a mother and her children walking their dog, and the Sun sending you a last wave from behind the buildings.

It’s past your usual coffee time, and yet you don’t want to leave.

This boy and his Queen t-shirt, with his smile that shines like a thousand stars, and his voice that warms your insides, is too much to let go.

You burn to know if Remus goes to the same uni as you, to know what his favorite novels are, to ask him about his preferred colors and weather.

“It’s late,” you murmur, instead.

His smile falters a little, “Yeah, we should probably be going.”

And, looking as if he has just woken up from a dream, he raises up. You follow his example, and take a step aside from the table.

“You’re forgetting your book,” he points out, with some amusement in his voice.

You shut your eyes in sweet shame. “I’m such a mess.”

And there you are, standing and laughing without really knowing why, for a good minute -- under the scornful look of the two old ladies.

You must be looking like two oversized preschoolers.

Then, the comic side of the situation dies down, and you are left biting your lip in slight embarrassment.

“Remus-” “Y/N-”

“Oh, sorry, you go.”

“No, no, you started first.”

You tuck a loose strand of your hair in place, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Okay then, I’ll start first. I- um-” Crinkles appear on the side of his eyes as an adorable grin blooms on his lips, “I really liked talking to you, and I don’t want to seem creepy or awkward but- Would you like to meet again on next Saturday?”

He grabs Pride and Prejudice from the table, and hands it to you.

«”What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. “My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you-»

“It’s nice to know that I didn’t bore you to death, but-” The muscles of his shoulders tense under his t-shirt, and you bite the inside of your cheek, a bit pleased by his reaction. “Do we really have to wait until next Saturday?”

He releases a breath, and you try to hide your exaggerated cheerfulness.

“Of course not, madame,” His eyes are soft. “I’d love to see you before.”

He offers you an arm to lead you out of the bar.

“Great,” you murmur, linking your arm with his. “Because it would have been a dreadful week otherwise.”

And, without any more words, you step toward the exit, feeling each other’s warmth, more than the coffee’s, filling your hearts.

[namitaylor1-blog]

Major self directed Media based artwork.

Before starting my media based artwork I looked to my favourite artists; Wes Anderson and Nadia Lee Cphen, to gain some inspiration. I further looked at various installation artworks, one that stood out to me the most is Tracey Emin ‘My Bed’. With the help of these artists I was able to come to the conclusion of creating my own installation for my overall artwork. I knew I wanted to focus on portraiture and play with the theme surrealism by manipulating the time and situation within my work. Further, I think it would be interesting to incorporate a high fashion theme amongst my images to add individuality and character towards my series of photographs. 

INSPIRATION

Wes Anderson is a American filmmaker who is well known for his distinctive visual and narrative styles. ‘Moon Rise Kingdom’ (2012), really stood out to me through the use of colours and composition that was used throughout the whole movie.

His techniques within filmmaking has always been intriguing to the public, I would liker to adapt such skills and intertwine them into my own images but still maintaining my own style. By indulging myself within the world of Andersons I’m able to gain a rich understanding of composition and the overall style that will help me in my final project. 

Nadia lee Cohen is a British filmmaker and self-portrait artist. Her style mainly focuses on the 1950-70s American and British cinema that is portrayed specially through her series ‘Hello my name is’. 

Cohen’s unique style of photographs and films has always been extremely satisfying to the eye. She creates captivating images through her unique skills in what seems like a materialistic world that she creates in studios and settings. In this series especially  has inspired me to create my own bizarre portrait photos. Her use of hair, makeup and costumes are all factors that build a somewhat plastic/fake appearances in each image creating a doll like figure. The posture of these subjects is what builds a strong composition and character that I will have to think about very carefully as I will only be using one piece of item with each image. I will have to use that to my own advantage to create a solid composition within the frame. 

Tracey Emin is an English artist known for her autobiographical and confessional artwork. I looked closely at one of her most famous installations of all time, ‘My bed’ (1998). She was inspired by the aftermath of her bed following a bad-breakup. Surrounding her bed was crumpled tissues, cigarettes, empty vodka bottles, through this image she believed that this was a work of art. 

Installation view of Tracey Emin, My Bed, at the Turner Prize Exhibition, Tate Gallery, London, 1999-2000. 

I was inspired by  her use of various random objects and created it into a one large installation artwork. It makes you wonder all the little things that we own or collect over the years into one little section of your own home. I wanted to use this idea within my own work by incorporating one random object in my house to show our relationship with our belongings towards the audience. The messy and uncleaned bedroom creates a buzzer compositions as it is placed in the middle of a meusume. She expresses a personal response depicting vulnerability, a self-portrait that doesn’t veer from the messiness of depression and heartbreak. Where she comments the views and her own painful experience. 

Mario Testino is a Peruvian fashion and portrait photographer whose work is found mainly in international magazines such as Vouge, V Magazine and Vanity Fair. High fahsion  photography has always been an interest in mine through the use of set design, preprofessional models and the mood and styling of the overall photo. Testino creates emblematic images that have contributed to the success of high fashion brands while he challenges traditional views on gender by mixing masculinity and femininity and suggests sensuality rather than. sexuality. 

Right: Amiaya, Tokyo, 2018   Left: Mario Testino Document Journal, May , 2014 

Above it is clear that Testino captures the moment in time and brings out the humanity of his subjects, creating a connection between the model and the audience. His images are captivating to the eye using bright bold colours, he also draws on his printed work to create a two layer image to exemplify the chaos within the image. Further I chose Testino as one of my artist of inspiration as his works have always stood out to me, especially for this task I want to create a my own inspired high fashion photographs to create an editorial series based on context and situation. 

DEVELOPING IDEA 

Before capturing any photographs I've decided to to sketch out each image that I will be taking, to gain a better understanding fo what my series will ultimately look like.  As you can see each drawing has one coloured object item that will correspond with the outfits. I wanted to keep a colourful rainbow theme throughout each image to indorse a light-hearted mood for the audience. 

Red: In this image I will mainly focus on the the colour rose red. This strong vibrant colour will be structured by the object; Eiffel tower statue. 

Blue: The image will have a striking electric blue tone throughout the photo. I will be using a phone box as my prop. 

Pink: For this image I will be using a mannequin head wearing a pink bob wig as my prop. My model will be wearing a pink coat that will correspond to the wig. 

Green: The green pop wad a little tricky to find as I will also be using toilet paper in the image as my main prop. 

PRACTICE SHOOT 

Proofsheet

Evaluation: For this shoot I had to create my own little studio within my house. This was very tricky as I had to find multiple lamps and set them up facing towards the subject, however there was not enough lamps to achieve the studio lighting that I wanted. Resulting to using flash on my camera allowed me to get that bright image that I wanted. I worked with small colourful objects just so I can see how myself series will turn out. Overall I’m very pleased with my final mini practice shoot as it helped me know what camera settings I should use and how I should position my c camera for the actual shoots. 

SHOOT ONE: BLUE

Proofsheet

Evaluation: The blue images turned out exactly how I wanted and I’m very pleased knowing that there are potential images that I can use for my final series. I did have problem with the lighting as my flash was turning off and on. I did like the ones without flash but I would have to ensure all my other images have the same tone in colours to keep a theme throughout my images.

SHOOT TWO: GREEN  Proofsheet

Evaluation: This shoot was very tricky as I couldn’t find anything in my house that was green except this this three layered holder for tissue paper. My whole approach to this series is suppose to express quriky and playfulness however use toilet paper was very hard create a structured composition. Once again the lighting was going all over the play due to the flash turning off and on which made the images seen dark. There are a few images that the subject is holding the toilet paper that covers the entire frame however there is something still very off about these images that don’t quite fit into my series. I will have to see how I go for my next couple photos if I was to incorporate a green image of not.  SHOOT THREE: PINK 

Proofsheet 

Evaluation:  The test shoot did not go as well as I hoped it would due to the prop not suiting the overall image. I felt as if the mannequin head with the pink wig looked somewhat awkward and due to the flash it washed out the white face in an unpleasant way. Further, I used a flask but the i felt as if the small object did not justice and was failure once again. Thus, I’ve decided to not use these pink images in my final work and due to the short amount of time I have im enabled to repeat this pink shoot again.       SHOOT FOUR: RED  Proofsheet 

Evaluation: I am very pleased with this shoot as it turned out exactly how I expected. I was able to create new composition within each image by placing the Eiffel tower artefact around the photo. It was also very fun to shoot as it was quirky and random. As of right now the red and blue images are the only ones that turned out great but for the other ones I was very disappointed. I decided to do another photo shoot using the colour yellow that will hopefully stand out just the other primary colours. 

WEEK FIVE

FEEDBACK FROM TEACHER 

In today’s class I was able to discuss my overall idea to my teacher, Vicky and showed her my images that I have taken. Further, I discussed how I will be doing another shoot today with a yellow theme however we both agreed on just work on the blue and red images to create a more detailed image. She suggested to put a backdrop to add texture and more depth. I also decided to present my work in a large spacious room because it will allow the audience to  move amongst the space and interact with the objects. 

 I further went to the printing room to meet with Josh, where he helped me set up my images on Lightroom, however we discovered the image quality is very low due to my camera setting. This meant my images will not print in a high resolution causing it to look burly and having a lot of noise. Since I will be doing another shoot today I will have ensure that my camera is on the highest pixel where next Tuesday I will be able to print them in a higher resolution photo. 

Throughout the day I worked on my blog and edited a few parts. Later in the day I will hopefully be taking my last shoot for this task that will help improve my overall final work. 

PINTEREST INSPIRATION 

Before my shoot I wanted to look for more inspiration to really develop an idea throughout my images and to see what composition I’m aiming to create. I looked through Pinterest and found a couple of images that have really helped me gain an idea on how to develop my backdrop for my final images. 

SHOOT FIVE & SIX

Set up: For todays photo shoot I was able to get a ring light from a friend of mine which allowed me to achieve that bright studio lighting without using flash on my photos. In the early photo shoots my flash kept going off and on due to the auto setting, however this time I kept it off. Below, the images show a set up off my mini studio that I’ve created. You can see I had purchased fabric for my background and had to tape it to my wall creating riffles to add texture. 

SHOOT FIVE: RED & BLUE

Evaluation: I was very pleased with this photo shoot as I was able to pick two images for my final work. I made a few annotations on the proof sheet that describe which images I liked my ticking them and others that I found awkward or out fo place. 

EDITING & PRINTING 

Below is the two chosen images of red and blue photos. I have placed my edits of the red photo as you can see the before and after image. Where skin tone is now warmer and will suit nicely with the blue skin tone. I also had to  fill in the left bottom corner of the blue image to get rid of the white background. 

Then Josh helped me print test images on fine art smooth paper. This allowed me to view my printed images and see if the colours and tone on the screen matched with ones on the paper. Below is an image of the set up for printing the mini test prints. 

Here is a photo of Josh placing the art smooth paper A3 into the printer. 

TEST PRINTS 

I’m very pleased how my test print turned out as they were both successful. The skin in the red image was really balanced and complimented the other blue image. This ultimately made a nice duo. 

PRESENTATION

Below is my overall presentation setup. I had to pin up the print using a hammer however during this stage a couple of finger print marked my blue print. I then asked Izzy to help, we decided on taping a clear plastic seal at the edges of my image and hammer those down without touching my prints. 

Further, I placed two pillars infant of my photographs and put the objects on it. As you can see I placed a miniature version of the red chair on the pillar because it would of been impossible too bring the actual human size form chair to the University. Hopefully this alternative still manages to bring a high quality installation. 

(I tried to upload my final images on a google drive but it wouldn't upload because of the photos resolution being too high. I could email you the images so please let me know.) 

FINAL EVALUATION 

Overall, I am very pleased with my final media based artwork, as it turned out exactly how I wanted. Throughout the long process I was able to finally achieve my final images. By the last shoot I knew that I have came a long way, and was extremely happy how they turned out. The editing and printing stage ran smoothly with the help of Josh as we were able to achieve it in less than a hour. I learnt how to use Lightroom where he helped me edit the red image skin tone to match the blue one. We printed on shiny gloss paper however when I was hanging it up I accidentally go my finger prints on the image. This made me question if I ever wanna use glossy paper again but the overall look was spectacular. On the presentation day I was able to locate two block stands where I placed my two objects. The outcome was nicely placed however, if I was given more time and resources I would of done a whole large series, to really complete my vision. Thus, despite the lack of photos and time, Im very happy how the overall presentation was put together. 

ARTIST STATEMENT 

My media based artwork, “What the eye can't see”, focuses on beauty found within the mundane as we look beyond the superficial standards of human perception. The images tells a story, of a young women possessing the objects; a vintage phone box and a love heart chair,  that challenge our perception of beauty where these inanimate objects oppose our natural indications of beauty. Furthermore, the model becomes one with the objects where we start to associate beauty to a further extent than our natural standards. 

Inspired by situation and creating a time and place, each setting compliments the colour of the object, forming an aesthetic appeal to the series. By brining these objects to life by presenting them directly in front  of the audience it creates a layer of realism allowing us to maintain our focus on the bright vivid items. The interactive installation allows us to question our own individual associations of beauty, as we view two perspective; the images and the objects placed in front. Overall, by exploring humanities identities of true beauty and superficial perfection, my work looks beyond these standards viewing mundane items that provide its own natural beauty.