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tainted-wine · 4 years

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I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

��Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

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“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

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Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

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“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

#asks #smut #all might #shouta aizawa #hawks #present mic #fatgum #yagi toshinori #keigo takami #yamada hizashi #i got more invested in this as i went on #also how the hell do you write fatgum

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hit-me-with-a-ladle · 4 years

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This is Ch.2 for my creepypasta story.

Now this is the second chapter to my story and its description can be found in my blog, i manly update on wattpad does i still will be putting these chapters on tumblr (not as frequently doe :/). so yeah have fun and hope u like it.

A sharp pain was the first thing felt by the girl the moment she woke up from her coma. Laying on a dirty, ruined couch, she put a hand on her head and softly groaned. At that moment she heard the light murmur of male-sounding voices near her and tensed up. She was confused and dazed. She didn't know where she was or why she was there. Not knowing what to say or do she just overheard their conversation, hoping they wouldn't notice she was awake.

" I-I don't know what the-they were thin-king, bringing a young h-human girl to be the next middle-m-man. A-a-are the elite becoming that desper-des-desperate?" One of the men said. He sounded considerably young, around eighteen years old. The boy appeared to have a stutter. His voice was also soft, almost sounding more like a whisper than anything else though still audible. ' What is he talking about?' The girl thought to herself, her train of thought was abruptly stopped by another voice speaking up.

"I don't think it's smart to doubt the elite's decision Toby, even so, she seems to hold some attributes required in a middleman." A monotone voice spoke. A soft "yeah" was soon hear from one of the men and it sounded forced. Then a bone-chilling chuckle came from the same monotone man. "What's so funny?" One of the men spat, their voice was deep and husky. "Well if you must know," The other man said sounding amused "It's kind of funny that out of all of us you should know just how capable she is." He rudely remarked snickering. The other man seemed to growl under his breath "Wasn't she the one that knocked you down and stabbed you in the leg?" The monotone man finally said in a provocative tone.

"Well, now you're just begging me to kick your ass." The irritated man spoke in anger and stood up but promptly cringed from the shooting pain from the injury to his leg and sat down. "I'd like to see you try," The monotone man replayed amused by his comrade's actions. The irritated man was about to say something when another voice spoke up, "Can you guys stop fighting already, I mean there's an unconscious girl in the living room that we have to prepare for her inevitable death." A boy said, he also sounded young similar to the first man, but this time his voice was much louder and sounded naval.

When overhearing what the boy said, she loudly gasped in shock without thinking, that seemed to catch the men's attention and they quickly went quiet. The atmosphere was so tense you could cut it with a knife. An awkward and unbearable silence fell upon everyone. But soon it was ended by the rattling of chairs getting put aside and the pattering of loud footsteps approaching the room she was in. Not knowing what to do, panic was the only thing she could feel at that moment. As she laid there, not moving a muscle the first that spoke was the man in a white mask.

"So now you choose to wake up? Took you long enough." He said to her annoyed, she looked at his masked face and then looked around the room. It seemed to be a log cabin by the walls being constructed from wood, and by the general look of it, it was pretty big. The couch she was on was in a rather rough shape, and right across from it was a scratched up wooden coffee table. Then she noticed one of the men resting on an armchair in a similar state as the couch she was on. He seemed to be looking right at her, though it was hard to tell from the blue mask that covered his face.

"Where am I? And who are you, people?" The girl spoke in a harsh tone trying to seem strong, though, in reality, she was terrified, and the men appeared to notice. "Aren't you a snarky one? But don't try to act tough or else." The man in the feminine mask said boredly. "Now, as for who we are, my name is Timothy Wright, but you will call me Masky." He hardly spoke while pointing to himself. The girl scanned him from head to toe and noticed that one of his legs was wrapped in a now blood-stained bandage. 'Did I hurt him that badly? Well serves him right.' She thought while glaring at him. "That guy over there," He continued and pointing to the tall man sitting on the armchair with his legs crossed, "Is Jack or as he's better known, Eyeless Jack." The man, named Jack nodded his head in her direction. "That shorty over there." This time he pointed to a short boy whit blond hear leaning on the door frame to the room, "Is Benjamin Lawman or Ben Drowned." Ben waved at her and smiled, but the smile was more creepy than anything else. "And lastly," Masky said while pointing to a boy with orange-tinted goggles " That's Tobias Erin Rogers or Ticci Toby." The boy then spoke up, "Ju-just call me T-toby."

"You're in your new home." He emphasised. "Here you will live till the day you die. Now, as for your purpose, you have been assigned the role of a middleman from now on." He said while looking at her dead in the eyes. "You're kidding, right? Is this some sick joke? A middleman? What even is that? You must be insane if you think I'll believe you." She responded hysterically while frowned and glaring at the man even harder than before and crossed her arms. "Oh, but you will, you don't have a chose in the matter." The masked man responded, looking at the girl sternly, he then sighed "I guess I should explain your new job shouldn't I." What he said sounded more like a statement than a question, and he carried on explaining.

"You will be the middleman of this forest," He said while pointing to the windows and sure enough, on the outside, there was a forest ' How didn't I notice that before?' The girl asked herself. "You have the job as negotiator, judge, executioner, errand boy and among some other things. But that won't be as easy as it sounds, because in this forest reside evil monster, creatures, demons, killers and different mythical being. Things that you humans thought were only in legends and tales." He said that as if he'd said it a million time before and continued "Now, we four were ordered," He moved to point around the room, gesturing to the men. "To get you and bring you here. So in the range of the next six months, we can teach you everything you need to know about being a middleman and how to do it right. At the end of those six months, you will go thru a four-stage test that will prove just how much you have learned, but if you were to fail, you will get executed. Do you understand?" He finally finished while looking at her and tilted his head. The girl was baffled and couldn't believe what she heard, better said she didn't want to believe it.

"You can't be serious right? I mean do you expect me to accept everything you just said as fact" The girl protested while immediately standing, "I don't know who you think you are, but I'm certainly not staying here any longer." And as she was about to head for the door, Jack suddenly spoke up. "And where will you go? You don't have any clue where you even are. Do you think you can just go out of this forest like that? Well, I'm sorry for ruining your parade, but that's not going to happen." He responded to her in his usual bored voice that seemed to be laced in a thin veil of sarcasm. 'He has a point,' She thought while looking at him. 'But it can't be that hard to leave a forest, right?' She reassured herself. "Oh, and another thing, this isn't a normal forest. No, it's a portal between the human world and underworld." He smirked through his mask when he noticed the girls face turn pale, "Though it doesn't look like it, you are in a branch of hell, and the only way to get to the human world is by knowing where the portal is, and we certainly won't be telling you of its location anytime soon." He remarked this time in a way that was much more malicious, almost seeming like he wanted to make her mad or provoke her.

But the girl didn't budge 'Is what he's saying true? I hope it's not, but I can't afford not believing him.' Still not moving from the place she was standing, she glanced down, "Why me?" She said, defeated. Those two words seemed to catch the men off gourd. " W-well," The boy named Toby spoke up. "You we-were chosen b-b-by the Elite." He said softly. "Who are the elite? And what do you mean by they "chose me"." The girl was quick to ask. "The El-elite are four o-o-of the strongest creatures in the underworld, they are the on-ones that choose the midd-middlemen for every branch and reg-ion of hell." Toby said, "We were als-also told m-m-many thi-things about you, your n-n-ame, hobbies, what you aspired to b-be, your dark-est secret, and mu-much more." He finished. "Better said we know everything bout you, Y/N." The boy named Ben stated calmly while smiling. Hearing her name come out o his mouth sent shivers down her spine.

The girl collapsed on the couch in defeat and put her arms to her head, 'Is everything that they're saying genuine? It can't be, can it?' She was in a state of dread and didn't want to belive what they were saying. 'I need to calm down, there has to be a way out of here somehow, and I'll find it.' She kept reassuring herself." Now, as I was saying, we four will be teaching you everything you need to know," Masky spoke up again with his hands behind his back." Your room is upstairs to the left. You should get as much sleep as possible we will start training tomorrow at nine-thirty am," He said while looking into the girl's eyes, "Do NOT be late, or else." He finished while going near the front door of the cabin, "Oh, and don't even try to escape, someone will be standing guard to make sure you don't." And with that, he and everyone else left. She was left alone whit her thoughts in the empty cabin,

'I should go and check out my room shouldn't I, maybe I'll find a way out.' and with that, she went upstairs.

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daidreamn · 3 years

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okay I cant take screenshots but

incorrect quote generator for my ocs (x) that are way too accurate

cut for length

Gelato: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything? Caesar: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital. Gelato: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you. Caesar: But I heard a siren. Santiago: That was Keicho. Keicho: Sorry, I got nervous.

Gelato: Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie- Santiago: Eyy, homie! Caesar: But then there's cootie... Keicho: Die.

Keicho: I give up. I am so tired. Santiago: Get the emergency supply! Gelato: *carries Caesar and places them in front of Keicho* Caesar: *smiles* Keicho: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

Keicho: My stomach growled super loud in French. Keicho: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class. Santiago: Bonjour. Gelato: Le growl. Caesar: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

Santiago, Gelato & Keicho: *screaming* Caesar: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Keicho?! Santiago: Wait, why are you asking Keicho that when Gelato and I are also here? Caesar: Because Keicho wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

Keicho: You're smiling. What happened? Santiago: What? Can't I smile just because I feel like it? Caesar: Gelato tripped and fell down the stairs today.

Caesar: Everyone synchronise your watches. Gelato: I don't know how to do that. Keicho: I don't wear a watch. Santiago: Time is a construct.

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle. Keicho, with Caesar and Santiago behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?! Police: Yes…three. Keicho: Oh, my God— What the fuck!? Police: Wha- Keicho: Gelato FUCKING FELL OFF!

Santiago: ARE YOU- Gelato: Fucking. Santiago: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Gelato Fucking. Santiago: IDIOT! Keicho: …What was that? Gelato: Caesar banned Santiago from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

Santiago: You know you can die from that, right? Caesar: *smoking a cigarette* That’s the point. Keicho: *drinking alcohol* We’re trying to speed this up. Gelato: *Eating raw cookie dough and nodding*

*Everyone is playing a board game together* Keicho: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'. Gelato: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'. Santiago: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'. Caesar: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'. Santiago: *flips the board*

Gelato: I just want someone to take me out. Santiago: On a date? Keicho: With a sniper gun? Caesar: Both if you're not a coward.

Gelato: What’s up with Keicho? They’ve been laying on the floor for like….an hour now? Santiago: They're just a little overwhelmed. Gelato: Why? Santiago: Caesar smiled at them.

Santiago: Where the devil is Keicho? Gelato: Well, it is raining outside... Maybe they melted? Caesar: Shall I look outside for a pointy hat?

Gelato: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong? Santiago: Strong. Keicho: Weak. Caesar: An idiot, is what your are.

Gelato: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems. Caesar: Weight loss? Drink water. Keicho: Clear skin? Drink water. Santiago: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

Okay in a lot of these it sounds like Keicho has a crush on Caesar and thats not my intention but let's play with the shipping quotes

Keicho: Know why I called you in here? Caesar: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic. Keicho: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

-(😳 I oop)

Caesar: Are you ready to commit? Keicho: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Caesar: *angrily presses Keicho against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?! Keicho: ... Keicho: Are we about to kiss-

Keicho: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face. Caesar: Caesar: I like you.

Caesar: Can you cut me some slack, Keicho? I’m sort of in love. Keicho: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem. Caesar: I’m in love with you. Keicho: *blushes* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

Keicho: That's ridiculous, Caesar doesn't have a crush on me. Santiago: Yes they do. Gelato: Yes they do. Caesar: Yes I do.

Keicho: So you like cats? Caesar: Yeah. Keicho: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table*

Keicho: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine. Caesar: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Keicho: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Caesar: Is it working?

Caesar: Are we fighting or flirting? Keicho: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- Caesar: Your point?

Gelato: Do you love Caesar? Keicho: Yeah, I do. Gelato: Santiago! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks! Santiago: We all love Caesar. You should've asked if they were IN love with them. Keicho: I thought that was implied. Santiago: ... Gelato: ... Keicho, looking straight at Santiago: Congrats Gelato, you just won 100 bucks.

Caesar: Did it hurt when you fell- Keicho: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt- Caesar: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs. Keicho: ... Caesar: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Keicho: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Caesar: I wrote you a poem. Keicho, already crying: You did?

Keicho: Is something burning? Caesar, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Keicho: Caesar, the toaster is literally on fire.

Caesar: I owe you one. Keicho: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

GIRL I

These turned out pretty cute

I’m shipping my own ocs now

#oc content #OC #original character #my posts

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diary-of-deadweight · 4 years

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Mystery admirer pt2 (this took along time for me to write.)

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Weeks has passed and it seemed that the elegantly vibrant flowers and heart fluttering note had stopped coming, you came to terms with the fact that this was a sure fire sign that your secrete admirer has lost interest.

Not that you blamed them, they all did in the end as they went on to pursue your much better looking friends further solidifying your constant doubts of not being enough or not attractive enough to keep them interested. So as to not show your obvious heart break you decided to take Mina up on her offer on going to the arcade to blow off some steam with Hagakure, Jirou and her girlfriend Momo.

While you were away Bakugou room this time to set up his plan, that was neither perfected nor fully fleshed out in the slightest thanks to his dumbass friends impatience, he demanded that Kirishima, Denki and Sero aid him in doing so as all this was their fault to start off with.

“Why are we doing this again?” Denki moaned as he and Sero scattered rose petals on the ground lazily, their backs aching from hunching over so much that the blonde thought he’d become a modern day Quasimodo by the time they were finished their duties. “You fucked up my plans so this is your punishment since face,” Bakugou sneered, not even attempting to look back at the electric blonde, “now quite complaining and scatter those petals like I told you to.” The ash blonde has had quite enough with Denki’s childish whining and incompetence for something he had a hand in as much as the other idiots around him did.

“How come Kiri isn’t doing this?!” Sero was the one to complain now, pointing out the fact that Kirishima was seemingly going unpunished, holding a box of chocolates and a teddy bear wearing an eerily similar colour pallet as bakugous hero costume within his arms, walking in tandem with Bakugou flashing the two a cheeky smile and a peace sign as best as he could without our dropping the objects. “FAVOURITISM! I CALL FAVOURITISM!” Denki screeched as if he was some kind of activist for something totally inadequate and off the walls stupid. Kirishima only snickered at this after manly failed attempts of hiding his amusement the first few times a similar scene as this played out, Bakugou rolled his vermillion eyes at the duo who were slowly but surely testing his limited patience for bullshit and stupidity, he swore the two shared a singular brain cell that was gradually getting dumber and dumber with every word that slipped their lips without second thought or filter.

“I plead the fifth.” Was all he said just as something caught Sero’s onyx eye, curtesy of the widow panel next to them, upon first glance it didn’t look like anyone he knew but upon closer inspection the clearer the picture became as the puzzle pieces connected within his head, “ugh, guys...when were the girls meant to come back?”

“Not until this afternoon,” Kirishima clarifies, turning his attention to the raven haired male with a questionable expression, “why you ask?”

“Well...it’s either the arcade was shut or they decided it wasn’t worth it because they’re back.”

“WHAT?!” Denki shouted as he dropped the bucket of petals, rushing over to the widow to see what Sero was seeing before a barrage of ‘shits’ and ‘this isn’t goods’ came from his mouth only to get shoved aside by Bakugou who saw you and the girls pass through the gates, laughing about something, “Shit” he muttered under his breath, turning to the trio with an unrecognisable look, thinking of what to do before thinking that there was no point continuing the plan nor clean it up since that’ll take too long. “What’s wrong Baku-“ Kirishima started only to get cut off when a firm hand grasped his, Denki’s and Sero’s collars, dragging them down the way they came.

“Tape face is right, (y/n) is back, plan is a taking too long to put in motion and so will the cleaning task. We’re out of time.” They descended down the staircases with lengthy strides that left the trio to stumble after him. “What?!” Sero exclaimed, “but the plan?!” “Didn’t you hear me dumbass! We’re out of time and options other then to be straight forward!”

By the time they got to the outside, the boys caught sight of you sitting under a cherry blossom tree, alone with a book within your lap, you guys must’ve stopped at a bookstore on your way back; seeing the way Bakugou remained uncharacteristicly quite and how his grip slacked significantly enough for Denki and Sero to break free and make a break for it back into the dormitory whilst Kirishima places the box of chocolates and teddy bear with Bakugous costume right down to the mask that you once told him looked like the magnificent wings of a red emperor butterfly.

That comment alone made him the most flustered and defensive in his entire life, threshing to change his costume because of it. Did he? No because 1) the name of the butterfly sounded badass and 2) he wanted to keep something that has reminded you of something so innocent and elegant, it would leave a fond smile upon his lips as he subconsciously stroked the mask with feather light touches almost as if the material would break upon contact; he even remembered the time you told him that butterflies wings are entire constructed of scales when you couldn’t sleep one night several weeks ago.

Oh yeah, he’s very attentive to you, insanely attentive it shocked even himself sometimes but then he claimed it was because he was partially made to be the ideal man for you and you alone as he beloved that you were the ideal person for him in return. “Go ge ‘em tiger.” Kirishima said softly and encouragingly shoving Bakugou towards you slightly, which irked him a tad, but in order as to not alert you of his location he only growled lowly at the red head only to see that he was nowhere to be found, leaving the ashblonde all on his lonesome.

‘Fucking idiots’ he thought to himself as he finally gathered the strength required in asking you out once and for all but it seemed that the closer and closer he got the more and more obnoxious his thoughts became, telling him that this was a bad idea and that he should just turn away while he could and you’d be none the wiser. The vermillion eyed brute believed he was experiencing someone else’s thoughts instead of his own since he was quite loud, proud and unfiltered so that also meant his thoughts were about the same.

So why was he thinking such uncharacteristic bullshit then?

You saw a familiar spike of hair coming your way and a soft smile immediately painted itself upon your plump yet semi-cracked lips, a warmth spread throughout your chest at the sight of the man of your affections but then the negativity came flooding in the closer he got made your smile falter a fraction as they told you that even if he had feelings for you, he wouldn’t stay for long with how you looked compared to other girls like Momo and Mina.

He would leave you in a heartbeat when he realises that you aren’t enough for him, to face the fact that you were born be be alone. They would say this time and time again that soon enough you began believing it, never making a move and watching from afar as he would go on to date other girls much prettier then you, more confident then you, more sexier then you’ll ever be; your thoughts plagued your for so long that you didn’t recognise the hands that carelessly dropped a box of chocolates and a teddy bear to cup your cheeks with such gentleness that seemed to foreign to be Bakugou’s, leading you to tilt your head up to where your greeted by a pair of lips sensually caressing your own as they weaves expertly yet sloppily between your own while the sensation of heat rose upon your cheeks as you reached up with your hands, one cupping his cheek and the other upon his hand, letting your negative thoughts drown out as background noise by a more positive thought.

‘He does love you.’

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angel-deux-writes · 4 years

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I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this On Here, but I really want to tell the story of the guy who put in my kitchen floors because it was terrifying

im putting it under a cut bc it’s probably not that long, but who knows.

(scrolled back up after i actually wrote it to confirm that it is in fact long)

Some backstory is that I was INCREDIBLY lucky and got my condo very cheap in a neighborhood I already knew I loved. The other unit I’d looked at was a full 30k over my budget, but this one was perfect because the owner hadn’t updated ANYTHING since it was built in 1985, so it was just...awful. Awful rugs, awful floors, awful walls. My dad is like...the dad who loves a project, so he was all “I can fix all of this except the floors!!! it’ll be great!!”, so I bought it. We hired a local company to do the floors, not wanting to go to Home Depot or whatever (Which i still support in theory, just......not this company lmao). Everything except the kitchen and bathroom was originally carpet. Hallways, stairs, every single room. And it was cheap industrial carpet, too. Like the kind in office buildings. The dude who did the carpet was like “what the fuck were they thinking???”

Also, one of the carpets had a truly upsetting rusty stain, so. My guest bedroom might be haunted.

Anyway, the carpet guy was great. He was the owner of the company, and he was older and very kind. I had my mom come over with me when he was doing the carpets, but I didn’t even need her there. He was cool. His son was in charge of the hardwood portion (I say “hardwood”. I mean, like, the cheapest laminate while still looking nice lmao). He was less great. He had a team of like 3 dudes and 1 lady who would show up and work, doing my office/dining room and upstairs hallway. I know carpet is easier, but the carpet guy took one day, and these guys took a week and a half. They messed up a few times, and it was kind of stressful, but overall it was okay. They had to redo all the subfloors, because condos built in 1985 were almost universally built in buckwild, impossible-to-explain ways, so it took forever. The hardwood guys were loud as hell, but they were nice!

At one point, one of the nicest guys accidentally broke a few of my kitchen tiles while putting in the transition from the wood to the tile. I was cool with it, tbh, but he offered a discount on a new kitchen floor because, shocker, the subfloor under the broken tile was really jacked up, and it wouldn’t be as simple as taking a tile from under the fridge and replacing it. I was like, okay, cool! We set it up.

I did not hear from them for four months. Which, I get it. It was a discounted job, so obviously they wanted to do full-price jobs first. I have no problem with that. The same hardwood guys came back to do the subfloor, and then they were like “okay [the owner’s son] will contact you about the tiles. That took about a week. Finally, I got a date. It was a Friday, a day when my sister was already working from home, so she was like “yeah, I can handle it.” She works in interior design, so she’s used to dealing with construction people, and she was REALLY useful when it came to talking down the son of the owner, who was like...every bad stereotype about contractors meshed with a used car salesman.

So I’m at work the day the tiling is supposed happen. My sister is fine at first, texting me about how the son showed up with one single guy, and then left, so it was only the single guy working. She was annoyed like “it’s supposed to take one day, right? That’s what they said? There’s no way he’s finishing at this pace. Why are they making this guy do the whole thing by himself?”. She called him “nice, kind of cute, but a very slow worker”. I was like ‘well, if they have to come back tomorrow, whatever, that’s fine’.”

Around 10:30 she starts texting me increasingly insane shit.

“He’s talking to himself downstairs? Maybe he’s on the phone”.

“He keeps dropping stuff and yelling SHIT really loudly.”

“Someone just showed up with a bag, and he let them in, and they chatted in the kitchen for like ten minutes, and then the person left, and they didn’t take the bag with them”.

“He’s standing outside using the tile cutter and SCREAMING whenever it’s on.”

“He’s out in the rain and shout-singing something while he’s cutting tile”

“He is BARKING LIKE A DOG TO THE TUNE OF THE RUGRATS THEME SONG CAN YOU PLEASE COME HOME”

I’m half convinced she’s making this shit up, but she’s uncomfortable so I tell my boss what’s going on and race home. When I get there, there’s a vaguely adam driver looking guy who seems nice enough. A little startled to see me, but we make pleasant conversation, I see that he’s not very far along, and then I go upstairs to see my sister. I brought her takeout as a treat, and we sit there for a while talking about normal things. Gradually, downstairs, the dude starts talking to himself. I’m thinking that’s still not THAT weird. Then he starts singing and clapping along. Okay, a BIT weird, but not terrible. I decide to go downstairs into the living room and play some Playstation. Like, maybe he thinks we can’t hear him upstairs and he’ll be more chill when i’m down there? NOPE! HE ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT! He does the barking thing again (and it is, in fact, the rugrats theme song), he’s working at a pace of about one tile per hour, and he starts singing a song that consists only of the word “bitch” over and over again.

I’m texting my dad, freaking out, and he tries to get in contact with the owner or his son, but nobody’s answering the phone. My other sister and her friend are on their way for game night. My sister’s boyfriend should be home soon from work, but not soon enough. It is, at this point, 7 pm. There is absolutely no chance he’s getting these tiles done today. He’s not even halfway done. My kitchen is VERY SMALL, by the way, so this reasonably could have been done in a day with two people, but I suspect that because it was a discount job, we got the discount treatment.

My other sister and her friend show up, and the guy is perfectly pleasant and normal to them. We all go upstairs into my sister’s room, and we sit there, waiting in silence for it to start again, hoping that maybe with more people in the house, he’ll be okay.

NOPE! He starts singing the “bitch” song again. I distinctly remember my other sister whispering “I love this song” and pretending to groove, which was kind of funny but NOT THE TIME. I’m sitting on my sister’s bed clutching a camp axe like a maniac, because I’m like “we are going to be killed by this giant kylo ren asshole”. I’m still texting my dad, who’s like “if you need me to come over, I can, i’m out of work”, but at this point it’s almost 8 and I’m also thinking about my neighbors. Like, he can’t be here at night. He just can’t. He’s so loud even just doing regular tile things!

I muster up LITERALLY EVERY IOTA OF COURAGE THAT I HAVE, and I head downstairs. I ask him when he’s planning on wrapping up, because I know there’s no way he’s going to finish tonight. He tells me it’ll probably take about two more hours. That is 1) absolutely not true and 2) not something I’m willing to deal with because I live in a condo with neighbors on either side of me, and one of my neighbors is a truck driver who gets up at like 4 am! So I explain that my friends and I have an obligation to get to, and I would love it if we could arrange for someone to continue the work tomorrow. He’s SUPER NICE ABOUT IT and is like “oh, okay, no problem!” He leaves. Just...walks into the rain. Leaves all his tools and his tile cutter. I move it inside because it was on my front porch and it is, again, raining.

My sister, a Nancy Drew Game fiend, starts searching the entire downstairs and eventually finds the plastic bag that someone brought him. My other sister, who is a nurse in a hospital that primarily treats overdose patients, is like “yep, that’s drug residue for sure”. I’m like, okay, so he didn’t hurt any of us, and he was nice, just....high and weird. But it’s over now, so whatever. My dad says he’ll call the owner’s son the next day, and everything’s cool. He also says that he, my mom, and my brother will all come over to watch the football game at my house the next day just to be there (which...im less than thrilled about the football part, but sure). I also beg my friend to drive up from the Cape to pick up his hat that he left at my condo over the summer just so he can chill for a few hours in the morning.

The next day, the same guy returns, with the owner’s son this time. The owner’s son is like “why did you only get this far along?” but otherwise doesn’t really say anything. The barking guy is TOTALLY FINE, totally polite. My friend lingers as long as he can, but there’s an ice storm coming, so he peaces out eventually. I’m alone for about an hour with the guy, and nothing happens. He’s quiet, even when the owner’s son peaces for a bit. My parents show up, we watch the football game, and nothing happens. I feel like A LUNATIC, because my dad is like “he seems fine now” and I’m like NO BUT YESTERDAY WAS TERRIFYING.

Anyway, so that’s the story. I didn’t end up saying anything to the owner’s son, but my dad reamed him out a bit for sending only one person to do a job meant for two. And now every time I drive by that business I suppress a shudder, and sometimes the barking version of the Rugrats theme song still gets stuck in my head.

#genuinely it was so so scary but he never even did anything? he was just weird #and almost definitely high #the barking thing was almost funny? like it would have been funny if he wasn't in my house

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maxhoemo · 5 years

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To Hell and Back: Can’t Keep a Good Boy Down p4

Maxy sat crying at the kitchen counter. Sitting in a stool, his head down and rested in his hands. It was a frustrated type of crying. He was so hungry. He hated it here. Hated his life. He thought being with Ian would make him happy, and it did, but everything else was unbearable. He’d dropped out of university last week. It was too difficult. He’d always thought he was pretty bright, but as the semester went on everything became harder and harder. He was handed failure after failure on his essays and tests. One day, he just gave up. Ian would make enough money for the both of them once he graduated, he figured. He reasoned to himself he could just spend the time being supportive and helping Ian get through it.

But then he did something stupid. He went shopping. He really didn’t intend to spend so much, but everything was just so cute and he rationalized that he deserved a little something. And before he knew it, he’d drained his account. He thought about going back and returning it, but for some reason. he just couldn’t. But he didn’t even want to wear any of it now. He just shoved it all in a closet, hoping Ian wouldn’t find it.

He was starving. He and Ian were paying so much in rent they had practically nothing left over for groceries. The other apartments must be insanely expensive because they paid well over 2000 dollars a month and their place was less to be desired. In fact, it was downright terrifying. If Maxy wasn’t with Ian, he was harassed every time he entered the building. Sometimes they even grabbed him and Maxy was sure sooner or later it would escalate. He just wanted to support Ian. To be a good boyfriend to him. But he didn’t even have anything to cook for him besides a package of ramen noodles. And having spent his entire student loan, they probably wouldn’t make rent this month. At that moment, Maxy truly hated himself.

He wiped his tears, staring at the wall for several minutes. This was no way to live. But things would get better. Ian just had to make it through school. That’s what Maxy kept telling himself. He got up and put some water in a pot and set it to boil. If this was what they had to eat, this was what they had to eat. He sighed.

As he was waiting for the stove to heat up, Ian came home.

“Hi baby. How was school?”

“It’s hard. I can’t focus on my work....”

Maxy frowned. He knew why that was. Ian wasn’t eating enough. “I’m sorry....” Maxy whispered.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I’m a drain on your resources.”

“Stop it. Don’t say that,” Ian threw his coat down onto the couch. “I just think you should seriously consider going back to school.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just... Can’t...”

“I don’t know why you suddenly started thinking you’re stupid. You’re not.”

“Well, I did something really stupid today.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing...”

“Embarrassing?” Ian asked, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. “How?”

“Because I can’t believe I even did it.... Since when do you smoke?”

“Since always?”

“Huh...” That didn’t seem right. Then again, he really hadn’t been thinking very clearly lately had he? “Anyways. You’ll be mad at me.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “What did you do, Maxy? Tell me.”

Maxy could smell the smoke from where he stood. He didn’t want to tell Ian the truth, and yet he found himself speaking anyways. “I was depressed and I accidentally spent all of my money.”

“What do you mean!?” Ian shouted. “All!? Accidentally!? How do you do that!?”

“I-I never meant to... I’ve never done anything like this before I don’t know what came over me please Ian please. Stop yelling....”

“We can’t afford to live as it is!”

“I know! I know! Ian I’m so sorry please. Please. I screwed up so bad...”

Ian just turned away, letting out a loud exhale. Maxy bit his lip nervously. Ian had never screamed at him before. But he knew he screwed up pretty badly. And Ian was probably irritable on top of everything from not eating. He finished cooking in silence. Finally tearing open the packet of flavouring and mixing it in. He drained the water and put the noodles into a bowl, setting it in front of Ian. Ian looked up at him.

“I’m sorry baby....”

“I’m sorry....”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Will you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Can you get a job?”

Maxy nodded. “Of course....”

----

The next morning, Maxy got up with Ian. Apparently, there were a lot of job postings on campus. He put on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of very short red shorts. He remembered buying them the other day, thinking about wearing them around just to excite Ian. But right now, they were both too tired for that.

Maxy yawned as they stepped outside. Ian had his arm around him, but luckily the street was usually relatively safe this early in the morning. Everyone seemed to scatter once the sun came up.

“Can’t wait until class ends,” Ian whispered.

“Why?”

“You look so hot today.”

Maxy smiled. “Glad you noticed.”

Once they got to school, he saw Ian off to class and went to look at the bulletin board full of job postings. He began to scan them, none seemed appealing. Library assistant... He didn’t want to work on campus, it would only be a constant reminder of his failure. Construction. No way would he be able to do that. Retail... Maybe he’d be able to do that. As he was contemplating whether it might flair up his shopping addiction he recently learned he had, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his old psychology professor.

“Oh, hello Professor....” It was kind of strange to be touched like this by someone he barely knew but he was trying to be polite.

“Maxy. Haven’t seen you in a while. I have been curious. Why did you drop my class?”

“Umm... Well... I just didn’t think I was doing very well....” He stammered.

“Well, psychology isn’t for everyone.”

“Yeah....” Maxy was relieved he didn’t seem to realize he’d dropped out of school entirely.

“Looking for a job, eh?”

“Yeah. Just need some extra money, you know?”

The man brought his ever-present pipe to his lips and sucked in. “I have a job you’d be perfect for.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

Maxy didn’t really want to, but as he coughed from the cloud of smoke he found himself going off with the man anyways.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say, understand?”

Maxy coughed. “Yes.”

#maxian #writing

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evesbeve · 6 years

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Underneath the Moonlight (Rise of the TMNT One-Shot)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sarcasticscribbles!!

Even though we’ve known each other for two-three months, I consider you to be one of the most fun people I know, and I love talking to you! I’m so happy I found that post about the corgi back in December, because it was the start of an awesome friendship :D

So happy birthday again!! I hope you had a blast!! 💜 💜

Title: Underneath the Moonlight

Franchise: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Summary: Maybe the Jupiter Jim Moon Buggy wasn't the best thing to come out of two brothers' adventure.

Word count: 1,080

One thing was for certain; Donnie and his brother must have been the biggest Jupiter Jim fans out there. No ordinary person would go through the trouble of designing and constructing an amusement park-like puppy shelter for a vehicle.

Not just any vehicle, Donnie had to remind himself. The authentic Jupiter Jim Moon Buggy, used in all 60 sequels of Jupiter Jim's Last Trip to the Moon, touched by the producers of the show, driven by Jupter Jim himself-

Donnie needed his hands on that vehicle.

He was only one fourth of an amusement park away. At least he had lemonade.

The turtle slurped the lasts of his drink, putting one last detail to his blueprints. In only a day, the Moon Buggy would be his, and he could use it for whatever he wanted. The possibilities were endless, and all he could think about was the modifications he'd make, and the ice cream machine-

"Hey, it's time for bed!"

And Mikey.

Donnie's first thought was to shake his brother off. He wasn't tired, and he certainly didn't want to be bossed around at this hour. It didn't take him long to realise that Mikey wasn't talking to him, but to one of the dogs.

It was the tiniest, roundest golden corgi Donnie had ever laid his eyes on, and it was right there, jumping on Mikey's leg excitedly. And Mikey? He looked ready to scold it for not being asleep of all things.

Donnie couldn't help but chuckle.

"Help me, Don!"

"Nah," Donnie cleared his throat. "I think I'll just sit here and encourage you from afar."

"Donnie!"

"Go on, humble warrior! You shall defeat thy beast!"

"Freddie is not a beast!" Mikey pouted, picking the dog up, which immediately started licking his face.

"Congratulations, Miguel, you've won."

The younger turtle shook his head in disapproval, sitting down next to Donnie, with Freddie between his legs.

"Thou shall receive lots of gold and fortune-"

"Will I-?"

"-and dog treats!"

"Ohmigosh!" Mikey grinned, Freddie mimicking him. "Such an honor!"

"Indeed, indeed," Donnie said, wrapping his arm around his brother. "Now, what's wrong?"

Mikey's smile was replaced by a frown. "How can you always tell when something is wrong?"

"Gut instict, I guess," Donnie said. "That or there was something in Todd's juice."

Mikey chuckled, and for a second, it was as if everything was alright. Yet no matter how hard he tried not to, Donnie could still hear that hint of sadness in Mikey's voice, and it was driving him insane. Somehow, having his most cheerful brother be upset, felt wrong.

"I'm gonna miss the puppies, Dee."

"Oh."

Donnie could pinpoint the exact moment that Mikey's heart broke. He was smiling, but the pearcing melancholy in his voice was impossible to be overlooked.

Donnie felt as if his heart was breaking too.

"I know we haven't been here for long, but," Mikey said, while petting Freddie, "I really am going to miss them."

"Come here, buddy," Donnie said, pulling Mikey closer to him.

The younger turtle didn't wait a second to snuggle against his brother's side, causing Freddie to move between them. Donnie would have lied if he said it didn't feel good to know his brother felt safe in his arms.

"Talk about what you're feeling," Donnie suggested. "Like we said we'd do when we're upset. What are you thinking of right now?"

"The puppies, for starters," Mikey said, "and that it feels good to be outside the city for once. It's nice out here. There's a lot of free space, and I like that."

"I like it too," Donnie admitted. "Can't say I'd mind being in my lab, but it really is nice out here. A change is nice."

Mikey nodded. "A change is nice."

Things went quiet between them for a while. With no blueprints or something to fidget with, Donnie could actually hear the sounds of nature. The crickets, the night owls, Freddie's quiet panting…

"I feel like me and Freddie are friends," Mikey broke the silence.

Donnie chuckled. "You're friends with all the puppies, Mikey."

"Of course I am!" Mikey said. "But Freddie and I have this connection, you know?"

"I know," Donnie said, because even if it sounded crazy, he really did know.

"I'm happy we're making him a home," Mikey continued. "It's going to be the best shelter ever. For Todd, Freddie, and all the puppies."

"Of course it is!" Donnie said. "The puppies will live like kings. And queens. And any other type of excellence, it's twenty-eighteen."

Mikey giggled, and Donnie felt as if he could breathe again. "Yeah!"

"And hey, think of when we'll revisit with our brand new - slash - upgraded Moon Buggy, A-K-A the best thing my genius self will ever work on, wink wink."

"Did you just say 'wink wink' out loud?" Mikey asked, clearly holding back his laughter.

"Did do, Miguel, did do."

Now laughing, Mikey snuggled closer again.

"Thank you, Dee," he said. "This is the best day ever."

"I suppose it is," Donnie admitted, his eyes locked on the corgi on their lap. "And judging by Freddie's flapping tail, he seems to agree."

The small dog woofed before sticking his tongue out at them.

"Awwww, who's a good doggie!" Mikey said, pulling the corgi closer. "You are! Yes, you are!"

It was at moments like these that Donnie realised how lucky he was to have Mikey by his side - both literally, and metaphorically speaking. Not even in his lab back at home would he feel the same amount of happiness.

His little brother was special.

"Now, it's time for bed," Mikey said.

Donnie shook his head at his brother's attempts to put Freddie to sleep. "I don't think he wants to sleep, Angelo."

"I was talking to you, Donnie," Mikey rolled his eyes.

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Of course it does, it's way past your bedtime!"

"I have a bedtime?"

"Close your eyes, mister scientist!"

Donnie sighed. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tired after all this emotional talk, yet it felt as if they weren't quite done yet.

"You're great, you know that?"

Mikey gave him a small smile, but it was the brightest he'd put on his face the entire night. "You too, Dee. I love you."

"I love you too."

Donnie could have never imagined that the best nap of his life would be in the middle of an under-construction dog shelter, with his brother, and a puppy, in his arms.

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halfusek · 6 years

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You Left Me in a Heartbeat

I wrote a fic about my interpretation of how things were between Joey and Henry: from before founding the studio to the moment they split up and a bit more. Also it includes a certain theory I would like to discuss in a seperate post some other time. Hope you enjoy! Huge thanks to @pipesflowforeverandever for beta reading and helping me with getting this thing readable! <3 Warning: ...violence.

✪ ✪ ✪

There is nothing wrong with dreaming. Excitement filled his head and buzzing thoughts were running million miles per hour through that brain hidden under dark hair. Although none of that amount of thinking was focused on the real world. At least not yet. Which is why the owner of fancy looking (but actually really cheap, he was just a broke student with nothing but dreams and 60 cents in his pocket, well, at least for the rest of the month) black shoes didn't even notice his feet were constantly switching being attached to the ground between toes and heels. His sight seemed to be focused on a certain covered in lights sign which was hung way above the cogitating head, at the top of an entrance. He was standing close to the gate with the cinema's ticket booth in the middle, his pointy nose pointed at the sky, expression peaceful, shoulders relaxed, and body slightly bending back and forth.

Oh, no, surely nothing wrong with dreaming, especially dreaming big, but who is to say those smaller ones cannot be fulfilled as well? Even those silly ones.

The cinema was showing an animated production tonight. And he had just enough money to see it and only slightly starve for the next week!

He arrived way too early for the show, but he couldn't just sit at home! So he went out for a long walk, well dressed, which wasn't most comfortable, but God, did he feel good!

To be fair it wasn't just the show his mind was currently so occupied with. Oh, it surely is fun doing alone, but what an experience it must be with a company!

He heard his name being shout out from across the street. The man turned around on his heel and sent the best grin the mouth under the pencil moustache was able to make.

Especially good company!

Henry was with some woman.

Joey stood still.

When the pair finally approached him, he whistled under his nose and then bowed. Both of his arms moved right away, one behind his back, and the other one in front of him, reaching for her hand.

"What a pleasure meeting you, my lady,” she giggled and Henry couldn't help but roll his eyes, though his lips twitched, forming a smile, "Can I know your name?”

"Linda,” they exchanged an energetic handshake, "You must be Joey?”

Said man gasped and put his hands on his chest in disbelief.

"Wow! Well...” he pouted comically and put his finger on his chin, other hand resting on his hip, "It is a possibility.”

Linda snorted.

"You know,” she took Henry by his arm and turned her head to him, cascade of blond hair flowing with that movement, "When you said it's just some cartoon I had second thoughts about going... but it might be fun after all,” she bit her lip as she turned back to Joey.

"Oh?” Drew asked, his mind completely ignoring the compliment, "You don't like cartoons?”

"I mean... I never really tried watching any... who knows, maybe it's fun. I know a fella or two who seem to enjoy it," she showed her teeth in a beautiful smile.

Joey noticed with how much affection Henry looked at her face. His eyebrows frowned a tiny bit.

"Let's try making it a three then," Henry beamed and pulled his girlfriend after him to buy the tickets. He did it in such an adventurous way, she couldn't help but laugh.

Joey watched them from behind. He couldn't move his feet. This was stupid.

He was stupid.

He wanted to pay for them. Only the two of them. He didn't expect-

His body shaked for a second. Only now he noticed how cold it was outside. Or...

He took the first step.

They won't last.

He took another step.

They will break up soon and he will never see or hear of Linda ever again.

He came up to the gate and bought a single ticket, then followed his company for tonight.

He won't lose just like that.

After the seance, Linda’s love for toons started and was growing ever since. She couldn't draw a straight line, but was interested in her partner's passion.

He can't lose.

Few years from this night they are planning to get married.

✪

Music was so loud as if the world was ending and it was the last opportunity to dance ever. Wonderful combination of bodies moving to the wild rhythms, people shouting as long as they had air in their lungs, liters and liters of alcohol and pure happiness – truly the most humane form of insanity. Everyone was dressed in their most expensive clothes they should take care of and nobody cared as they waved their arms and legs, drowning in the ocean of sweat and panting breaths.

They owned the place tonight, newcomers could either join or stay being outsiders which ended for all of them in leaving. Judging by how, hm, unusual the party was, it effectively scared away those who could have something against some of its rules. One woman entered looking for someone to make love to, but went out scoffing as her moves resulted in nothing because she aimed at a wrong pal, currently making his own moves towards another pal. How weird!

Oh, those artists. Such deviants!

Joey was forcibly pulling Henry away from the table, despite all of the yet-to-come-animator's protests.

"Come ooooon!” tall man’s voice sounded lower and slowed down. Also very demanding at the moment, "Don't tell me you're not gonna dance at a celebration of YOUR OWN show!”

They finally both ended up in the middle of the chaos which was the said celebration. They were like two pales standing still in a storming sea. Now they either drown or move. Henry didn’t seem up for swimming.

He doesn't like dancing. Joey only knew he performed a few slow ones with Linda, but she wasn't there to get him out of his comfort zone this time.

Obviously Joey was obligated to step in.

"I-I don't know what to do, I feel weird everytime I do this, I-"

"Don't think about it, just do it!” they had to yell in each others ears to make anything out of their conversation.

"I can't. I can't!” light reflected in Henry’s glasses as he looked back at the table.

"It's like slow dancing! But faster!” Henry didn't need to turn again to his friend to see that big grin of his, but he did it anyway just to send him a mildly annoyed look.

"It's not!”

"It is! I'm gonna... fucking... show you!” Joey grabbed his hands and pulled, which took Henry by surprise.

"What the-"

"Think of waltz! But don't be strict! Use some instinct, for crying out loud you're the one with a girl!”

And so they took few first steps like in a classic waltz, which didn't go well with everyone else's tempo but Joey didn't care. Henry got more nervous.

"I told you I-"

"Shut up! Keep! Trying!”

Drew can be really exhausting with his motivational attitude and never-giving-up speeches, but Henry decided to listen to him. After all, he was usually right.

They took their steps faster. Then Joey started leading them into slightly different ones, and with time and occurrence those differences started increasing.

Henry found himself catching up and they both noticed that.

When they achieved a somewhat satisfying pace and didn't bump into others as much, Joey suddenly pulled Henry closer and whispered to his ear something the shorter man couldn't quite catch but it surely included the words "dancing demon" and he bursted out laughing.

Sillyvision pitched their idea.

Way later that night two figures struggled with walking down the street, both clinging to each other. They were trying hard to keep their balance yet still ended up moving between both sides of the road. Luckily for them it was quite a quiet neighborhood, no cars in the sight. There was only one cyclist who tried their best to avoid them with the accompanying sounds of the bike’s horn.

Their long walk was completed at a construction field. Not a recommended place for the drunk, but things were about to start happening here in a few days, only several materials have been gathered for building.

Joey wants to stand on his own but Henry didn’t let him – he knew that would end in the tall man laying face down on the dirt – so instead of making a majestic spin in the middle of the place with his hand pointed at the surroundings, he did an awkward turn-around, which almost knocked Henry off his own feet.

"Look. At. This!” words were pouring out of his mouth in a bulky mutter, "This will be ours. This IS ours.”

"Yeah,” Henry simply replied but then decided to elaborate a bit, "It’s… it feels amazing.”

"Yes! It does,” dark hair fluttered as the head it was on nodded. He kept doing that as he responded, "I think I’m gonna return today’s alcoholic be… be-ve… rages.”

"Ew. Let go of me then. And not on our future floor.”

"Imagine s-someone will be, like, sitting there, like, drawing, and then, I’ll like come to them from behind and be like-"

"Oh, Jesus.”

"Sir.”

"God.”

"You’re sitting on my barf.”

Henry didn’t let this low level joke make him giggle. He made an excessively serious face.

"You’ll be the worst employer.”

"I’ll be an amazing employer. So honest.”

"Please, don’t.”

"Yeah, no, I’ll lie on occasions.”

"I meant don’t puke on our legacy.”

"Oh.”

They took a sit on a stack of desks and breathed in silence for a while. Their shoulders were touching.

"I think I’m better now.”

"Good.”

"I’m so happy,” Drew’s voice broke as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"It sure doesn’t sound like it,” Henry made an awful joke attempt as his own tone hit a higher pitch and he felt a sudden urge to blink more.

Both men raised hands to wipe their eyes- only to be interrupted by their own bursting, bubbling laughter. Cartoonists put their arms around each other and they wobbled, they laughed, and they cried.

They were tired but it was the best kind of tired. The kind you feel after successfully achieving something, so you can rest a bit and let that accomplishment bring some joy into your life.

Henry rested his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

It was so warm. The night was cold and the alcohol wouldn’t help them keep a decent temperature for long, but they simply had each other.

At that moment, Joey could swear he was burning.

His hand found its place on Henry’s hip, long, thin fingers were trembling. He took in a deep, shaky breath.

Henry felt the chest he was almost laying on shiver and for a short moment there was a sensation grabbing his face by the hot hands of confusion. It lasted a few seconds until Joey stood up and took three steps forward. Henry, not expecting this, ended up falling on his elbow, so he was in a kind of semi-recumbent position, his mouth slightly opened. He watched Joey put his hands on his sides, and turn back to him. Shorter man almost expected some sort of negative expression, but the other surprised him with a smile which could only be described as a smile of a dreamer.

Henry forgot to remind him of being careful, because he knew his friend had something important to say. So he listened to the man of ideas.

"This,” he threw one hand in the air, "This will be great.”

His hand fell back on his hip.

"But it’s just the beginning. It will be greater.”

Henry raised his eyebrows and blinked.

"We will expand!” Joey suddenly released an excited shout and lifted both arms to the sky as if he wanted to grab all the stars.

At that moment Henry was almost certain he did. He got up and approached him.

"What do you mean?”

"We’re gonna make it big! Literally!” Joey let out a laughter before he explained, "The grounds were so cheap because most of them are located above a huuuge cave found many feets underground! Of course we won’t start building above that part, but later we could easily use it for building something…” he made a pause and put an emphasis on the next word, "under!”

"Oh, my,” Henry mumbled, genuinely surprised. This lack of knowledge didn’t bother him much. Not now, "That’s… that does sound great… although it will take a lot of hard work before we’ll be actually able to use something… something like that.”

“Yes. Hard,” he grinned widely, "and happy.”

Eyes behind the glasses rolled.

Joey noticed this is how Henry tries to mask his lack of confidence. He patted his friend’s shoulder.

Back then he used his observations for motivation instead of manipulation.

It’s funny how things change over time.

"We’ll make it,” corners of his mouth fell down a bit so the smile appeared to be more gentle, "You just have to believe.”

"Yeah, yeah,” Henry sighed and closed his eyes for a second, before looking up at his pal and reaching his hand to the one resting on his shoulder to grab it in a reacourging grasp, "Thanks, I will try my best. We will try our best. Right?”

Joey turned to look at the foundations of their workshop and released his hand from the touch. He repeated quietly but undoubtedly, "Right.”

Henry didn’t seem to notice weird reactions on his friend’s side and Joey was both relieved and disappointed by that.

He could have tried to make a move on Henry. Well, in fact, he has been trying. His crush already was in a few relationships before and he always waited them out and they always eventually passed.

(He had a bad feeling about this one.)

He didn’t want to interfere. He wanted Henry to be happy the way Henry wanted to be happy. It was the only fair way. But he didn’t see any dangers in his current one. Linda wasn’t… a threat.

(This time he didn’t have a girl just because of social pressures.)

He could try lying to himself, but in reality he was scared of rejection.

(Henry really loves her.)

What if that dream does not happen?

He closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened again, green irises shined with determination.

They will make it. Belief is all they had before and it’s all they need. It’s all he needs.

They will make their dreams come true.

It’s a funny thing.

How so much can fall apart so fast.

✪

He stretched his back and let out a silent groan. No, he needed to stand up, even for a few seconds. And so he did, all his limbs tried to go as far away from his torso as possible. Brain automatically got filled with air. That felt refreshing. He twisted and bent his body before sitting down again. Just as he was finished adjusting his chair, he heard steps coming from the closest room. He peeked his head to the corridor.

A tall figure approached a long table that Henry could only see a small fraction of from this position. The other person wore a black, long jacket, which shoulders were covered in snow, that also was slowly melting on the dark hair making it a bit wet. Joey put some bags in the middle of the table and came back where Henry's sight could reach him. He took off his gloves and threw them next to - how Henry suspected knowing his friend - some warm food he bought for both of them. Cold, currently slightly red hands, rubbed each other energetically and the man grinned.

"Want some coffee?”

"I want you to get your ass over here and help me," his smile was rather sour but shifted to a tired and calm one, "But sure. Just right after that – you stay there.”

"Right, right," Joey did a reassuring gesture and headed for the kettle. He wanted to get a proper break room someday, but Henry couldn't really see it right now. Irrelevant. For this room to have any use they would have to have proper breaks first. At that time everyone was working really hard.

Well they had to. But they wanted to.

Happily tired.

The animator sighed.

After a while his friend was in Henry's little corner with something to fill his stomach and give a little boost to his head. Henry muttered some thanks and tried not to consume everything at once.

It wasn’t the first time he forgot to eat during drawing. Always, even when he did this as a hobby, he since had that problem. This didn't strike anything alarming in regards to his job, though.

He hasn't become aware of his workaholism yet.

Even Linda wasn't concerned yet, they haven't seen each other since that whole thing started but they both tried their best to stay positive. Of course there will be challenges on the way, especially at the beginning. But they won't give up, no, sir.

Joey took a sit on the other chair present in the room, which he once brought in and never got out. It was its only use as no one really needed to come here except for them. Wally or Norman were coming every now and then, but those visits never really required sitting.

Joey let Henry eat in peace and before asking anything, he took a look on what the shorter man was working on. He crossed his legs and studied the frames.

"Aw, that's no fun. I can't even criticize you for anything. Those look perfect,” his tone was mostly playful but with bits of pure admiration. Henry fought the want to hide behind an exaggerated modesty by declining every compliment which dared to tickle his ego. He couldn't just take it though, so he responded with a teasing joke.

"I would introduce my foot to your crotch if you did after last Friday,” he found himself only half joking. He knew Joey well and he was aware of their problems with perfectionism, especially in his pal's case, but the first time it occurred to him as a bigger issue was the aforementioned Friday. Joey didn't accept that character model but he didn't have to reject all those frames Henry did with it...

Joey's lips slightly twitched.

"Sorry. I'll make up for it. No business trips for the whole week.” Joey put one hand on his chest and raised the other, at which his friend chuckled a bit. He meant it and that was enough for Henry. That's great when you have a friend as your boss. You know you can trust him.

"Well then, let's begin!” Henry beamed at him. They assigned what needed to be done by which one of them and set goals for today, each day and the whole week. Deadline was closing in but they still had loads of time. They could do this. Joey moved to the other room with such a strong aura, he wasn’t even taking normal steps, but made small leaps, which made Henry choke on his coffee.

At moments like this you could say they were getting high on believing.

✪

No.

The smiling devil was mocking him.

No.

He turned another paper sheet into a ball and threw to trash.

He let out a silent sigh when he put the pen back in action and his wrist sent a complaining sensation.

No, Henry, we can't go on like this.

She said.

Wrong again.

He tore the sheet apart.

No.

He couldn't work like this.

He had to.

He felt something hot and wet in his eyes.

No.

He needed to be better. He couldn't lose her.

He took the pen back in his fingers and it was at the moment his hand twitched and emitted hurtful spasms through his arm when the water broke through the barrier of his bottom eyelashes.

He grabbed his right hand with the left one. The pen fell on the wooden boards.

Defeated.

"No...”

"Henry...?”

He almost jumped in his seat. Glasses bent askew when he turned his head to the source of the voice.

Joey.

He started wiping of the tears. It wasn’t really effective since he didn't even bother to take the glasses off. He just didn't want his boss... his friend to see him like this.

Well. Too late for that now.

Joey leaned back on his desk. A few months have passed since they started it all and the second chair was moved out of here.

Surprisingly for both of them it didn't take much for Henry to start venting. He never realised how much he has been keeping to himself. How much has bothered him. How bad he felt.

How afraid he was of talking about it with anyone. And his best friend he used to talk with about everything... was a part of the problem.

Heavy thing clenching onto his heart disappeared as he felt relief after Joey's reaction.

Understanding.

He was almost afraid they wouldn't get along as they used to.

Many things weren't as they used to be.

"Linda will be so happy,” Henry sniffed for the last time and used the tissues to stop his face from looking like a mess, "And right now we need every bit of happiness we can get. We planned some big things but... I don't know, maybe they are too big for us...”

"Nonsense!”, Joey exclaimed before he bit his own tongue, "There is nothing on the way to your dreams, Henry. Nothing.”

"I start to feel as if this idea sounds nice only on paper," that's what the animator said, but Joey as an experienced leader and manager knew what his employer meant: convince me. Motivate me.

"Okay, listen to me, dear pal," he put his arm on Henry's shoulder and leaned in a bit so their heads were on the same level, "Of course the idea sounds easier on paper! All ya gotta do is write it! Now – action – is what requires more commitment. But what would you get from just that paper? Welp, nothing, nada, zero.”

"Alright, I get you, please-"

"Do you kind of want it or WANT IT WANT IT?!”

Henry let out a frustrated groan but muscles on his face betrayed him and he smiled and he hated it.

"I want it. I want her.”

"Then get the hell out and make your future wife happy.” he said it as an order but it was one Henry will one hundred percent willingly listen to.

This was a good moment. There has been a lot of stressful situations recently around the studio. Everyone knew what they wanted, everyone knew what to do to achieve what they wanted. It was just... hard. And they had to do their best to be happy.

Joey tried really hard to make it a happy workplace. He might have gotten a bit harsh sometimes but never let his guard of positivity down. Workers were fast to lose trust but slow to regain it. He was trying his damn best and hasn't realised he was pushing his best friend too hard.

He felt awful.

He had to do this, stuff needed to be done, but today? No, he couldn't.

Henry was crying. He had to let him go home, even if that meant he will spent time with his fiance instead of him. Or more like working for him.

But that would make him unhappy. Henry was unhappy for a longer time.

He sat back and lifted his chin up to look at the ceiling.

Most important person in his life was unhappy because of most important thing in his life.

Oh, dear.

Henry's spirit was definitely lifted up when Joey watched him exit the building. He felt an unpleasant feeling in his stomach when he noticed that – almost as if the workshop was some sort of prison. That just felt wrong. But he was glad for his friend. The animator needed rest anyway.

Anyway... what the hell was he doing? Drawing with a hurting hand? Did he really think Joey is some kind of monster that would make him-

No.

He realizes he clenched his fists. His fingers got released right away.

Well. Is he?

No. Calm down. Henry finds it hard to stand up for himself. He never complains! No wonder he just literally exploded from everything he kept inside! Joey never had any problems with giving him feedback or going on and on about what was going inside that idea-pumping head of his, but to be fair he didn't really have any serious issues himself.

(bullshit)

(liar)

The dark haired man shook his head.

They both felt the unpleasant breath of incoming deadline on their backs. Henry was probably too occupied with his mind today to, well, mind going home. But Joey was fully aware.

Oh, well! Who is supposed to make the impossible happen if not him?

He picked up the pen and then he picked up where Henry left off. He felt tired, but only physically (right?) which was something he surely could stand. Unfortunately he had to focus more on the business stuff but some time in the future he planned to hire an entire management department and join Henry in the art one. He could look for more animators first but...

His eyebrows frowned and he bit his bottom lip.

...he didn't want to. Later.

Why?

Oh, obviously because-

Because...

Bendy looked so off model, Joey just stared at the sketch in pure surprise.

Oh, right, he cheered himself up, after that time period some warm ups are necessary.

The amount of time he spent warming up to get the frame right was a bit disappointing, but he kept going.

He was so absorbed by the work, he didn't (want to think) hear the steps approaching him.

"Gee golly. Is that really you, sir?” the janitor's eyebrows instantly rose up as he reached the end of the hall.

Drew gave him an unfocused look and blinked a few times.

"What," he didn't even articulate the question.

"Um, uh, ya know, I'm just doin' the usual, haha,” Wally wasn't sure what to make out of his boss' tone, so his reply was kind of nervous, "Gotta clean up the place!”

The look on Franks face woke Joey up from that strange state of hyperfocusing.

"Oh!” without any reason to he stood up. Just a second after he realized, but didn't sit back, he approached the worker, stretching his back, "Can't you do this later, my boy?”

"It's already after hours, sir," the smile on Wally's face told Joey two things. First: get some rest, old man. Second: I better get overtime for this.

Oh, he heard that second one so often. Not today.

"Forget it. Go home, Wally.”

"Oh, no problemo, I can wait.”

"Wally.”

"Alright, alright," Franks reassured him to back out of his extra work plan by replying with the strongest accent he could pull off, which Joey couldn't help but find amusing. Such personality! Would make a great character trait.

"You can leave the mop here," as Joey continued Wally twisted his head to one side in curiosity. Kinda like a dog, "I will use it later.”

"Wow, mister Drew, you do Henry's job, now mine. When are ya goin’ to write a song?”

"Very funny, Franks.” Joey sent him a tired smile. "I mean – Wally. Quit the mister Drew, please.”

"You got it!” Joey half expected him to salute. Wally Franks might not be the sharpest tool in this shed, but he sure tries his best to be one and works both hard and happy. He would never regret hiring such a character. Good for the janitor, Joey never cared much about papers and qualifications. There were many things to hate this place for but also many things to appreciate. Maybe even love. Like this little comedy he knew he could expect from the boy always walking with his head in the clouds, "Good thing, I don't hafta go back to the closet! Phew! If I met Sammy down here, I wouldn't hear the end of it!”

"Keys?”

"Keys.”

Joey wasn't even slightly mad. That was just hilarious. Even though he was the one paying for a pair of new ones. Well, the studio was, but someone is responsible for it and is in its very name.

After Wally left, he kept working for a few more hours. He almost got the shot done when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

He got up from the desk with a paper attached to his face. There were small spots of ink on his forehead and chin. He was really disoriented and looked at the person standing next to him with two cups of coffee with pure confusion.

Henry.

He was smiling but looked concerned.

"Damn me, I was afraid I will be too much behind so I got up earlier for work, but you..." he sounded genuinely touched, "Thanks.”

"You're welcome," Joey yawned and slowly got up, to which Henry responded by placing the cups on the desk and pushing him back to his place, "Wha-"

"You look like you're about to pass out,” despite his friend's tone, he could tell he wasn't really joking, "How long were you up?”

"Hell if I know," usually higher positioned shoulders now at a lower lever because of their owner's body being laid back in the chair shrugged, "What time is it?” he asked as he reached out for the cafeine.

"Eight.”

Joey took the cup to his hands and simply stared at the surface of what was inside of it. He smiled in an unsettling way.

"I have a meeting at half past nine.”

"Oh,” Henry gasped in that emotionless way of his but in the name of self-awareness added a more concerned: "Shit.”

"Yeah," a loud slorp could be heard.

"Is it important?”

"Yeah.”

"Are you gonna go there?”

"Yeah.”

"Do you want to?”

"Kinda.”

"Do you kind of want it, or-" Henry tried hard not to wheeze as Joey gave him an annoyed look, "want it, want it?”

There was a moment of silence.

"I don't.”

They both laughed hysterically.

Kinda.

✪

First year anniversary party managed to lift up everyone's moods a bit but not long after that event it faded away. They kept pushing but kept losing enthusiasm. It was even harder to stand that grin.

The one Bendy posters have.

The one Joey Drew has.

Said man entered the corridor to the left after coming through the entrance. He stood quietly and watched his only animator work.

He realized it's been some time since they had a normal conversation. He can't deny this feels wrong. He feels... awkward... out of place...

He hesitated to start speaking. It was Henry who sensed someone's presence and looked in his direction.

"Hi," he only slightly raised his eyebrows, "What do you want?”

"Oh? Is it forbidden to just come to see your pal now?” he tried hard to mask his stress and make the tone sound convincing. Henry's sad smile as a reply made him somewhat relieved.

"No. But I need to work on this if I want to get out of this place today," that used to be a joke.

Joey immediately run back to the previous room and returned with a chair.

"Move yo ass.”

"Come on, you don't have to-"

"It's been months since I used a pen for anything else than my signature or script writing. I. Want. To. Draw.” he really did, Henry was almost jealous of his friend's excitement towards drawing. It was only becoming less and less fun for the shorter man.

"Okay, then, here," he gave a folder to Joey and explained what needed to be done.

It was quite pleasant to have some company. Joey was working in the next room but they could shout things at each other. And they did.

Henry worked at a really fast paste. And very effectively on top of that. He didn't realise that himself but there has been quite some time since he heard an actual compliment about his work. He lacked motivation. Maybe that's why not long after Joey started, he went out of his hall and approached his friend's desk.

"Hey, I wanted to ask how you feel about those back-"

Joey has been scribbling circles.

Henry blinked.

This whole time.

"What the-"

"I can't get his stupid head. I'm so out of practice.”

"Are you serious?”

"I know I goof a lot, but not in the mood for it right now, Hen.”

"Ah," he was slightly taken aback by the nickname. It's been so long, "Maybe you want less Bendys and I'll give you some Borises instead? It's good to try different things.”

"Yeah, that does sound good”, Joey gave him a thankful smile.

Henry didn't dare to show him his backgrounds. He thought something but pushed it away.

No way it would demotivate Joey. Nothing was able to bring this man down. Right?

So they kept drawing.

Later, without anything to show this time, Henry came to him again to check how things were going.

Their little devil darling looked on model, just the way he should be.

When he glanced at the Boris Joey was sketching, he almost froze. He saw a mistake repeated on a few sketches already.

"You won't make me correct all the frames to give him a tail, will you?” he let out a nervous chuckle. Joey furrowed his brows as he studied what he made.

He gazed upon Henry who could see something shifting through his boss’/friend's face but couldn’t quite catch it.

"You're tired.”

"I'm tired.” Joey nodded slowly.

He muttered thanks for reminding him and went back to work. So did Henry. As the animator sat down on his own place, he wondered why did this little thing bother him so much.

Because? It's no big deal, right? Everyone makes mistakes.

After something around twenty minutes, Joey took careful steps while going to Henry's desk. He held some paper sheets and a pen. His face was covered by some undefined mask, so hard to guess what he felt at this moment.

Henry guesses he was... embarrassed? Afraid?

Why?

"Can you... show me how the details on Boris’ overalls look like?” his tone was so quiet, Henry got the impression it wasn’t even Joey speaking.

"Sure," he took out one of the concept arts he barely touched now since the designs of the characters were basically engraved on his memory. He smirked teasingly, "What kind of director doesn't know his own characters?”

That was supposed to be a joke.

Gritted teeth and pencil moustache pointed down told him someone didn't take it as one.

"You don't have to remind me about that," he hissed and pretty much threw all the stuff at the desk, "I'm done.”

"No, I didn't mean- Wait, what? What are you-"

"I'm done. I can't... do this anymore.”

"Um, hello? Are you listening to yourself?” Henry pulled out a nervous smile which was supposed to resemble his concern, "You just need-"

"Practice, yeah, no shit," Joey sighed heavily and crossed his arms, "But I don't have the goddamn time.”

Henry just blinked and stared at him. Joey finally realized what was coming out of his mouth.

"I... I'm sorry. I wanted to help you but-"

"No, it's fine. Don't worry ab-" Henry reached for his shoulder to lay a hand on it but Joey flinched back.

"I'm not worried. Of course it's fine. Now excuse me, I won't waste any more of our time-"

"Hey! No! It's... it's okay if it's not fine, we can talk about thi-"

"No need to. It's fine,” it was the first fake smile Henry remembered after finally quitting the studio.

"I don't believe that. Can you just... stop running away from talking about what's really bothering you?” he approached the tall man.

"I have no idea what you're talking about,” he turned away, planning to exit the room.

"It's okay to admit something is wrong!” Henry grabbed his arm.

Before he gets pushed with an unexpected force, he saw Joey in a completely new form. His friend's face was furious. Paper and pens fell from the desk on the ground. An ink well spilled out its content on a few pages by shattering on top of them. Henry hit the wooden structure with his back and the blue eyes watched the green ones in disbelief.

Joey's expression instantly changed. He looked at the other's face, not sure what to say. Seemed like he tried to state something but failed as his mouth opened and closed.

He exited the room in a hurry.

✪

Joey has been sitting in his office for quite a while now. Motionless. Staring at his desk. At an envelope laying on it to be precise.

He was away for a few days so he missed the biggest news going around the studio right now. On the way to this room he noticed some people gossiping and there was an unusual excited atmosphere.

Subconsciously, he knew what was inside of it. The thought just didn’t form inside of his head.

With a slightly shaking hand, he reached for the paper and cut it carefully with a letter opener.

He noticed the biggest word right away and lost his breath.

BEFORE THEY SAY

"I DO”

KINDLY JOIN US FOR THE

WEDDING

UNITING

LINDA & HENRY

After that there were written the date, the place and his own name but he paid no mind to those.

The invitation was put back down slowly, the fingers holding it twitching.

Tall, thin body was unusually still. Looked calm.

But wasn’t.

It’s over.

He stood up and a noise of something shattering could be heard. He felt a pain in his arm as he looked at it being stretched. He stared almost blindly at the wall and hardly noticed a big stain on it. Then his mind went back to focus. There was glass on the floor and on a chest of drawers which stood under the ink splatter. He remembered to breathe again, which he continued to do heavily, and then slowly approached the furniture to study what he’s done.

He appeared to just have thrown an inkwell.

Oh, what a mess.

Nothing like the one inside his head.

Joey pulled out the drawers. Various things ended up flying out of them. Documents, pens, stamps, keys, you name it. Falling wood made cracking sounds as it hit the ground.

He went around the room pulling his hair.

The man passed a wine rack which he pushed furiously. Alcohol spilled on the wood and the luxurious carpet covering it.

He stopped walking ending back again at the desk. With one swing of the long arm, he managed to push everything off it’s surface. There was something wet on his sleeve and he raised it up to his face with disgust, expecting to see ink.

But it was red.

And it hurt.

It must have been the letter opener.

He almost collapsed on his back, but the chair behind him broke the fall, so he ended up sliding down it. His legs were pointed at different directions, his body in general looked like an abandoned doll. The bleeding arm rose to the chest and was being hugged to it by the other one. It was now, when everything else went quiet, nothing was shattered or thrown, that he heard sounds which only a hurt animal could have made.

It slowly got through to him that he was sobbing uncontrollably.

His limbs slowly woke up from that weird apathetic state and along with head started coming together to one point – curled into a ball.

Hide.

Stop.

From what? Stop what?

What…?

He didn’t want to think.

He didn’t want anything.

Not anymore.

He…

He just can’t have it.

He can’t have him.

No matter what he does. Nothing really matters. He can’t succeed.

THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS!

His whole body trembled.

This isn’t right, this isn’t fair, this can’t be like this, he has to… he… he just needs to…

He has always believed you can achieve anything if you try hard enough. If you believe. If you keep going. At some point that dream will come true.

He fell on his side and put a fist inside his mouth to silence his own scream.

LIES. LIES. LIES.

What was right is wrong. Nothing is the way it’s supposed to be.

He felt that… toxic… desire… to get what he wants.

But the problem was… he didn’t want something. He wanted someone.

Henry isn’t and can’t be your damn property, you stupid piece of garbage. How pathetic can you be?

Dreams are supposed to be your power…

He choked on his tears, but that didn’t stop him from laughing.

…but they can also be your downfall.

✪

This was not what he dreamt of. He run his hand through his brown hair with ending that movement on the neck to give it a small massage. It ached a bit, his back did as well. And his hand.

Henry sighed. He was so tired.

Why won’t Joey hire more animators? They should afford to do so, and even if it was risky, they would rather benefit from it in the future as there would be less dangers of not meeting the deadlines. He managed to do everything alone but at what cost…

A wrinkle appeared on his forehead.

Joey won’t even help him anymore. And his name is in the goddamn-

He released the breath he was holding.

Time passed and things only seemed to get worse.

He put his hands on the Bendy sketch he was working on. He grasped one of the fingers and studied it.

He designed the main character. Heck, two main characters.

He gently touched and twisted the golden ring.

Does he want to live in his shadow?

Does he live in it?

Should he quit? What would happen to them? What job would he look for?

He didn’t want to think about this.

They wanted to start a family. He couldn’t be absent in their children’s life.

He needed to think about this.

Blue eyes closed.

Should he quit…?

✪

There was an unpleasant silence in the office. Heavy atmosphere hanging in the air.

Old friends sat on opposing sides of Joey’s desk.

They couldn’t look each other in the eyes. No one wanted to start speaking.

Henry asked for talking about something. Something important. Privately.

Joey exhaled deeply and looked up at the other one’s face.

"What-"

"I quit.”

Dark haired man blinked. Corners of his mouth rose but the smile didn’t reach the green irises.

"Let’s take it slow from here, okay? Tell me what’s the problem.”

"What isn’t a problem, Joey?” Henry didn’t expect himself to raise his voice. At least not so early, "Short answer is: I’m not happy here.”

Drew folded his hands and put them on the countertop.

"Could you elaborate on that?” his voice didn’t show anything except for impatience.

The animator swallowed his saliva.

"I’m working alone and it’s just too much work for one person, it’s entirely consuming my life-"

"Well, it’s like this in this bus-"

"I’ve become a fucking workaholic, Joey.”

"I… I’m sorry to hear that…”

"Haven’t you noticed?”

"Noticed what? How am I supposed to know what’s going on inside your head? You never tell me anything, you just wait till it all bursts out in one moment, and look what it lead to now.”

"Oh, well I… thought you knew me a bit better and were aware of some changes. I’ve been lying to myself because I have an addiction. And everyone around me seemed to notice. Everyone but you.”

"I thought you liked drawing.”

"I love drawing.”

"What’s the matter then?”

"That I’m a goddamn wreck, maybe that’s what. I’m… sort of… miserable… because of it… If it wasn’t for Linda, I surely would drown the sorrows in alcohol. Almost added drinking to the list of my problems, but she-"

"Oh, thank God, Linda is here.”

Henry didn’t miss the sarcasm in Joey’s tone.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

"She’s convinced you to quit for her, hasn’t she?”

"What? No! Well, we did talk about it, but it’s not like… This is MY decision, I’m doing this for my own sake… Well ours too but…” he shook his head and continued more angrily, "Are you suggesting that she’s… she’s… I don’t know, sabotaging?”

Joey didn’t stop his shoulders from shrugging and Henry could feel his teeth grit.

"I’ll tell you what,” he stood up, "The only person sabotaging anything here is you…”

"Henry, please, sit down-"

"You manipulative asshole.”

His boss gave him a dead stare.

Silence came back for a plenty of seconds, even worse to handle than before.

"You took my designs. You always used pretty words and ideas to get around it but the truth is you stole it from me.”

Joey listened to the accusations without showing any emotions. His mouth only once twitched.

"I won’t let you steal anything else.”

As a confirmation of his words, he turned around and headed for the door. When he pressed the handle, a cold, empty tone reached his ears and sent a shiver down his spine.

"Don’t you dare leave.”

Henry ignored it and walked out of the room. He was aiming his steps at the exit.

He felt as if his head was burning.

This is all wrong. How did they end up like this. Why is it hap-

"WHY AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”

Against his will, his body faced the man following him.

Green eyes emitted fury and Henry experienced an irrational fear.

Of course he was mad. This was a hard situation for both of them. But it had to be like this.

It shouldn’t have to.

"I’m leaving. You can’t change my mind.” he replied in apologetic tone, even though he knew he wasn’t the one owning the apologies.

"What the fuck did she put into your head?” Joey asked in a disappointed tone and raised his arms in confusion.

"Leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with-"

"Oh, yeah?! Well, everything was okay before she started putting her fucking nose in places it didn’t belong,” taller man approached the shorter one, who was backing out carefully.

"I just told you to not involve her,” Henry growled, "You don’t even realise you’re the problem, don’t you?”

"Ah, of course!” he shouted and hit his forehead with right hand, completely forgetting they were in the hall where anyone passing could witness this scene. Luckily for them no one was there to see it.

Or maybe unfortunately.

"I forgot that three is a crowd.”

"What…?”

Joey immediately stopped and went silent. He was standing right in front of Henry, who also was done moving. Both of them were panting.

Both angry like they’ve never been.

A realization hit Henry like a train. He opened his eyes wide.

He was wrong. Many years from that moment he understood what was actually… the case…

But for now…

"You’re fucking sick,” now he took a step forward, "Just how controlling can you get?”

"What is that now, huh? What else have I done?”, Joey muttered but his tone seemed to have lost some fury, the loss being replaced with… fear?

That came to Henry as nothing else but a conclusion. Guilty.

He grabbed his best friend by the collar.

"You want to pull me away from her,” he hissed and his voice wasn’t ever as dangerous as in that moment.

Joey didn’t reply but his expression revealed his bewilderment and that somehow made Henry’s blood boil with rage. He rapidly pushed him away, long legs almost tripping over each other.

"You’re fucked in the head.”

"Henry-"

"I can’t believe I let you waste so much of my time, my energy… my… my life…”

"Listen to me-"

"No,” he cut him off and pushed again along with letting out a furious cry: "What the hell were you thinking?!”

"It’s not like this!” Joey noticed Henry getting ready to push him once more and tried to somehow stop his hands.

"Then how, huh?!” he went straight past Joey’s weak arms and grabbed him again, "How is it?!”

"I was just… I-I…” now he was the one pushing, anger suddenly kicking in and increasing his strength, "I was doing what had to be done to achieve our dreams!”

"Our dreams?” then Joey was the one backing out, "Or just yours?”

"I… I thought those were the same,” voice coming out from under the pencil moustache cracked.

"Well… maybe they were…” the animator’s tone calms down a bit as they reached an intersection of corridors. Behind Joey’s back was a place under construction which was going to be a break room. It was kinda upsetting Henry won’t even get to experience it. Would be nice… but at his position he probably wouldn’t even have a chance, "But not anymore.”

He held Joey’s vest with only one hand. He was ready to let go but-

"THEY ARE! IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF THIS FUCKING SLUT!”

Something red covered Henry’s vision. He didn’t know what was happening until he heard a loud thud. He blinked.

There was a smell of blood. His hand hurt and was wet. Blood on his hand. But what was that-

Again. Thud.

His eyes followed the noise.

There was a small trace of red dots leading to the beginning of the stairs.

Thud.

His chest suddenly felt heavy.

If he had air in his lungs, he would scream his friend’s name.

But he didn’t.

There was only one sound.

Thud.

And then silence.

A few seconds have passed before Henry finally moved. To him it could have been as well years. His legs felt like they were made out of iron.

Joey never realized he fell down the stairs. He was unconscious before he even fully registered being punched in the face by the person he only ever cared about.

For some reason there was one thing he remembered from that accident. Very clearly.

A sign he saw while the world was upside down.

"WATCH YOUR STEP”

Henry’s eyes stung. Hot tears rolled down his cheek as he watched the body at the bottom of the stairs. He would have sworn to God, he didn’t see it breathing.

Someone was coming.

People.

They will know.

Everyone will know.

Henry whispered a voiceless "sorry”.

He left in a heartbeat.

✪

There’s not enough air. There’s not enough air. There’s not enough air. There’s not-

Henry.

There were flashes.

Joey woke up in cold sweat and wanted to sit but wasn’t able to and it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt like hell.

There was light. Right above him.

And a face.

Henry?

It was a doctor.

The doctor told him many funny things.

Why was it funny?

Well, because it was a joke, of course! It just couldn’t be true! So it must have been a joke!

It! Was! So! Funny!

He was in a hospital. There were more people in the room, trying to calm him down.

They said he was having a hysteria attack.

How was that possible? It was not.

They’re joking!

They’re lying!

Isn’t joking just funny lying?

He didn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t use his arms properly.

They told him he had a spine injury. That he probably won’t be able to walk. Or at least not much, unless he’s really lucky. But they should focus on saving his arms.

They were so silly.

They said he won’t make it for too long. His body was so fragile right now, it was a matter of months until it shuts down completely.

So, so silly.

He asked for Henry.

Nobody told him anything except for that he had a concussion and shouldn’t have any visitors for a while.

Time passed. He barely noticed from all the drugs they gave him.

Then his head started to feel clearer.

He realized they weren’t lying.

He told them he didn’t remember what happened.

He was the one lying.

He was having visitors. Henry was not among them.

But there was the janitor.

The janitor…

Oh!

Franky!

Like a cute version of Frankenstein!

No, wait, it’s Wally!

Wally Franks. The janitor. A really important visitor.

Joey asked him for a favour.

✪

Wally looked around with confusion and scratched his head. He rang the bell again and held it for a longer while. Then he knocked and shouted out Henry’s name a few times.

Well, time to give up. He obviously wasn’t home. His car wasn’t even on the driveway.

Mister Drew just seemed… it just seemed really important to him. And he didn’t want to bring bad news to him, considering the situation his boss was in.

Speaking of the news, there was a stack of newspapers just laying on the pavement.

No one was there since a longer time.

The janitor didn’t need to count them to know the amount of days it took to deliver these was equal to the amount of days which passed since… the incident.

He even asked some people.

No one knew where Henry was. Same about Linda.

Something was telling Wally they were out of town.

Probably for good.

✪

He let out an unhealthy chuckle after he was done writing the letter.

Why does he keep doing it? No one even reads those. And never will.

Without knowing Henry’s current address, he just kept sending mail to his old one. No one lived in it anymore because it wasn’t for sale and it couldn’t be even considered a property belonging to the town, because they’ve got nothing on him.

That’s because Joey never made any statements about what happened. He faked a memory loss. Some people speculated about him remembering what happened, some tried talking to him about it, pointing out how his disappearance happened at the same time his accident did.

But he didn’t tell anyone.

Police would have to start looking for him. He could ruin his life.

And ruin what was left of his own life. But that would also take away his only achievement.

The studio. The characters they argued about amongst other things.

If he took out Henry’s trash, his old friend would probably return the favour.

He couldn’t move his legs at first but after some rehabilitation he managed to use crutches from time to time. On rare occasions he stood with a cane but didn’t really move with it.

His arms were really weak, but got stronger after he started using the wheelchair. Only the dominant left one was really usable though.

✪

The demon touches his glove with the uncovered right hand. His whole body is cold but this part seems almost comfortable.

✪

He sometimes was coming to the art department to watch the animators work. He has hired many after-

He never really paid attention to them though. The only desk he really looked at was the empty one outside the area they were working in.

Despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it.

✪

Old man pants heavily as he escapes inky black stains whirling all around him. He reaches a corridor without a proper floor, only wooden boards put together in hurry to make a provisional bridge.

He can hear the Ink Demon closing in.

Henry takes his steps carefully. Falling would probably cause him to break his spine in half.

He thinks of the vertebrae sticking out of the deformed Bendy’s back.

He notices a sign at the end of the hallway. It’s upside down.

"WATCH YOUR STEP”

#bendy and the ink machine #batim fanfiction #joey drew #henry batim #henry x joey (one sided)#wally franks #halfart #halfpost #violence #injury #drinking #ask to tag

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junionigiri · 6 years

Text

Peony Pink and Cherry Blossom Tea Ch 6: Can We Talk

Summary: Things go wrong in the feelings department in the worst way

Relationships: Todoroki Shouto/Uraraka Ochako; past Shindo You/Uraraka Ochako; background Tokage Setsuna/Jirou Kyoka

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: um. Angst and I’m sorry about that. Pls don’t hate Yui

“Hey there,” someone says from behind her. “That’s… an interesting thing your doing to our weights.”

Uraraka Ochako, fifteen years old, first year student of Ketsubutsu High’s general studies department, looks guiltily from the floating set of weights to the owner of the voice.

Her eyes meet dark hair, all messed up but in a nice way, like he just rolled out of bed. A handsome face with a sharp jaw, a little dirty and scratched from a scuffle. His gym clothes are all soaked with sweat and burnt and torn to shreds at different areas. He smells like he rolled around a barbeque pit, making her wonder what the heck are these hero course students doing, killing themselves in training?

“Oh,” she says in embarrassment, releasing her quirk on the weights all at once. They fall noisily on the concrete floor, making an ugly sound that causes both of them to flinch. “Yeah, sorry. Am I allowed here? If I’m not, can you pretend that this didn’t happen? Sorry, I got bored, and my friends--”

He raises two pretty eyebrows at her, lets one side of his mouth curl up in interest. “You got bored waiting for your friends, so you started floating weights around? Most girls just play on their phones or text, or something,” he says with amusement.

She shrugs and scratches the back of her head. “I would, believe me, but--”

Her phone is an ancient thing with a huge line in the middle of the screen that dies when she uses it for more than fifteen minutes. It’s at ten percent right now, and she left her charger at home, and she really didn’t want to walk the 2 kilometers to her tiny apartment in the darkening city without a working phone.

She doesn’t want to explain the pathetic story of her phone and poverty, though, so she stammers out, “Much more interestin’ usin’ my quirk than playin’ Candy Crush, that’s fer sure.”

He guffaws, and she sees a row of perfect, mesmerizing white teeth. “Well, you’re right about that,” he says. “You’re also right about you not being allowed here. This place is technically for hero course students only.”

She flinches. “Um… okay… so about the pretending part--”

He tilts his head, a smile that’s both playful and devious on his lips. “You asking me to be an accomplice, Ms. General Studies?”

On the surface, that easygoing smile is telling her that it’s okay to say yes. But Ochako finds something a little disconcerting under that facade of his--she knows he’s plotting something under that pretty boy face of his, but what?

She stares dumbly at him, not really sure what to do, until he laughs and breaks the tension. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t see anything,” he tells her with another easy smile. “Just don’t do it again. You might wreck our equipment with that quirk of yours, ya know?”

She feels her ears turn red. “I’m sorry, I just got surprised. I don’t get to practice my quirk as much as you guys,” she says, picking up the weights one by one, floating the heavier ones in the air. She tries to be gentle with the landing, but partial gravity release is hard. When she releases them, the guy has to run and catch them in one hand.

Muscles in his arm bulge as he does. She bites her lower lip.

She isn’t sure if he notices. He pauses a bit, eyebrow raised. “That’s too bad, ‘cos your quirk is cool. If you went to the heroes course, I think we’d work really great together.”

She blushes further. No-one has ever told her that her quirk was anything other than ‘okay’, because while it’s exceedingly simple compared to others, at least it didn’t make her look weird or smell bad. ‘Cool’ isn’t a term she’s ready to hear. “Thank you,” she says, because she isn’t sure what else to say.

The guy steps closer to her. “I’m not just saying it. I’m serious. You don’t look like you believe me.”

She laughs awkwardly and steps back. “I… I didn’t say that.”

“Here, I’ll prove it to you.” Suddenly her hands are in his, and he’s staring right into her eyes and she’s paralyzed.

She hears her heart pounding wildly in her chest, feels the blood rush from her brain to her heart to her cheeks and the sound is so loud she almost doesn’t understand what the boy tells her next.

“Let’s spar. Right here.”

She freezes. Makes a silly face that makes him laugh out loud.

“I’m serious!” he repeats, dragging her to the sparring area with cushions. She stammers all the way there, even when he somehow gets her to pull off her shoes and stand in front of him, arms akimbo. “It’ll be quick. You try to activate the floaty thing on me, and I’ll try to dodge. Promise, I won’t use my quirk against you or knock you out or anything.”

She gives him another ridiculous look, shakes her head. “Are you sure?”

He smiles lazily at her, and positions herself for combat.

With a smirk, she tosses her uniform blazer aside, rolls up her sleeves, gets into position.

It’s a tough seven minutes, but it ends with the over-enthusiastic boy hooting up the ceiling in excitement, and Ochako collapsing on the mat from sheer exhaustion.

She releases the quirk, and he falls, lands on all fours like it’s no trouble. He helps her up with one pull of a strong arm and asks for her name, as if the thought just came to him then.

What a weirdo, she thinks, and tells him her name.

After that fight, life goes on in General Studies. In between struggling with English and chatting with her friends about the cafes they want to visit after school, Ochako doesn’t think much about him, except in quiet moments where she’s alone and she’s free to squeal and smile and roll over in her bed like an idiot.

Two weeks later, she finds a letter in her locker--a messy scrawl asking to meet with her outside. No signature. Her girl friends squeal at the potential confession. She shrinks at the potential threat.

When she gets there, Shindo Yo, as promised, stands there by himself with just his easy smile and his sincerity. “Uraraka-san, I like you,” he says with an intense look in his pretty dark eyes that makes her melt. He takes both hands in hers again, making sure that her finger-pads don’t make either of them float this time. “Please go out with me.”

She manages to say yes, somehow, despite the fireworks going off in her little brain. The happy smile on his face makes her heart feel full. He holds her hand, fingers intertwined, and takes her home.

When they find out the next day, all her friends squeal and ask how the heck did you manage to get the most popular guy in the hero course to look at you? At the risk of admitting violating school policy, she keeps her mouth shut and her smile consistently mysterious.

Days later, she opens her shoe locker and finds it full of garbage.

Ochako, strangely enough, misses the unsophisticated, garbage-in-your-locker type of bullying in high school. Because at least then she has a concrete, visual evidence of all the nasty shit going on in those evil little minds of theirs. Plus she can make the garbage float above the bullies and make the icky shit drip over their heads. It’s a satisfying stunt she pulled off once, and paid for with a hard shove against her locker, which didn’t make it any less worth it.

Now that she’s all grown-up there’s nothing as solid as garbage that showed their nasty thoughts in striking clarity. Only whispers and dirty looks that just won’t die down. Only these so-called professionals making her wait for too long when she needs to endorse important things about patients, and then blaming her for her slowness when things happen. Only anonymous comments on her (already locked) social media accounts and on the HGH Facebook pages that make not-so-subtle comments about her spending so much time staring into Doctoroki’s eyes that she makes a lot of mistakes at work.

Her HGH ‘parents’ are enraged, of course. Mina especially is always on the verge of throwing hands at anyone who so much as squints in Ochako’s direction. Eijiro, the more rational parent, has been coaching her to tell the nursing supervisor about the goings-on, but how is she going to do that when one of them told her to keep her relationship from affecting her work?

Also! How can her ‘relationship’ get in the way of work, anyway, when there isn’t much happening in that area? Sure, they make enough public appearances (lunch in the very middle of the cafeteria, facing each other, fifteen minutes max twice that week!) to keep the charade going, but… Doctoroki and her have gone back to being quiet.

It’s not that they’re being cold. They text as often as they can, but things have been insane at work. Shouto needed to back-up Dr. Momo a lot this week. There has also been an increase in villain activity everywhere, which means more wounded civilians and pros to tend to. Ochako herself feels the strain. She replies to him diligently, tries to get a conversation going despite the hour-long gaps in between replies.

It definitely isn’t the same as the nice talk they had over the weekend. She supposes this is why there are articles and articles in girly magazines about how hard it is to date anyone in the medical profession--for them, time is a construct that only serves to tell them how much they haven’t accomplished yet.

But at least this time Shouto seems to be a little less clinical in his texts.

Todoroki Shouto (1434H): Got a case with pedia--trauma, burn injuries, just stabilized. The pro who rescued the child days ago just visited. Midoriya is having his pre-op crying session as we speak.

Todoroki Shouto (1434H): Should I comfort him, or let him be? I feel very out of place just watching him here.

Ochako giggles imagining the scene. Deku-kun doesn’t always need the pre-op sobfest, but in hard cases he does it to focus, and so he doesn’t burst out into tears in the middle of the OR. Or so he says.

Three hours ago, she realizes, as she looks at the timestamps. If the other nurses didn’t make her wait so long and didn’t give her such a hard time during endorsements, she might have been able to reply to him earlier.

She starts to type, sorry, Shouto… you know, im having a hard time with work lately

… and then shakes her head, puffs her cheeks, deletes. No, don’t… Shouto doesn’t need to hear your drama, he doesn’t need more emotional load, he doesn’t have that sort of responsibility for you. This isn’t real. Isn’t real.

Me (1737H): sry! Brought a couple of cases to med ward, took a while!

Me (1738H): i hope u told him he was gonna be okay! deku-kun needs a lot of tlc!!!

Me (1738H): work hard!!! I hope the baby makes it :(

She sighs and drops her phone in her scrubsuit pocket and patiently waits for her ‘tattoo date’ in the hospital lobby.

Her phone vibrates again, and she inhales a bit, hoping that it’s Dr. Tokage telling her that she’s on the way down and they can finally go to Illusion Inks for her next session with Jirou. It’ll be an hour of her being pierced with needles while watching two pretty girls shamelessly flirt while she simmers in mild jealousy, but it’s definitely better than moping about at home and waiting for the next reply from--

Shindo Yo (1740H): Hi, Uraraka-san!

Shindo Yo (1741H): Busy day at work, I bet (✖╭╮✖) it’s the same for us too

Shindo Yo (1741H): what r u up to?

She stares glumly at the texts. Of course it isn’t Doctoroki. She breathes, asks herself why she’s doing this, but does it anyway.

Me (1742H): I’m on my way out of work, senpai.

Shindo Yo (1743H): wow, ur replying fast to me today! Happy~ Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ

Shindo Yo (1745H): u must be rly rly pissed at work today huh? lol

Me (1747H): ig

Me (1747H): lots of villain attacks lately. busy

Shindo Yo (1748H): u know it :( we’re trying our best too. Just worked a double shift cos of that. Im beat!

Me (1749H): same

Shindo Yo (1750H): yeah u look like it 〈(゜。゜) gotta do sth bout that

She freezes and narrows her eyes at the text. Wait, don’t tell me--

Me (1751H): senpai. Dont be creepy

Shindo Yo (1752H): waaaah im not

Me (1752H): im callin security

Shindo Yo (1753H): pls dont i promise im not bein creepy!!!

Me (1754H): yes. u. r!!!!

Shindo Yo (1754H): only a little!!! just dont move ok?

From her vantage point in the middle sofa, she immediately looks around the lobby. There are only a few people sitting, waiting, speaking to the receptionist, who all suddenly turn to her with barely-concealed interest in their eyes.

She smells strawberries from behind her. When she turns her head, she gets a faceful of box and strawberry scent. “What the--”

“Whoa, easy,” that familiar voice says with a chuckle. “You really are extra pissed today, huh.”

She gets the box out of her face and gives Shindo Yo a solid glare. “Senpai! What are you doing here?!” she squeaks.

He isn’t wearing his skimpy hero uniform, thank god. He’s in a shirt, a leather jacket and skinny jeans, a lazy smile on his face that would have made her stupid with want in her younger years. He chuckles again and leans forward. No sense of personal space whatsoever, as usual. “Had business here. I’m just waiting for my associate to get to the lobby so we can time out.”

She raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “We?”

“My new agency, remember? We’ve been crazy busy lately, but when we get time we try to see the people we help out on the field.” He moves the box around, as if it’s proof enough of his claims. “I just saw a young lady I rescued from an attack in Naruhata. She gave me an entire box of strawberry mochi. Which is sweet, but unfortunate, seein’ as I don’t really like sweets and all…”

Even though it’s not uncommon for pro heroes to do just that, especially the young ones, Ochako isn’t convinced. “Really. Where is she admitted?”

Shindo rolls his eyes, pulls out a card attached from the box and reads. “Dear Seismic-sama, Thank you for saving my life. Heart eyes. It isn’t much, but please accept my gift! This is my fav snack ever and I hope this makes you happy, exclamation exclamation. Stars and hearts and cute rabbit with hearts for eyes. Love, Luna-chan from room 432.”

He lets her read the card, and she has to admit that the glittery gel ink and the cutesy handwriting makes it look genuine. She stops narrowing her eyes. “Okay. I guess that’s pretty nice, senpai.”

“Right?” he says with a proud little grin. “Am I still creepy, Uraraka-san?”

She puffs her cheeks. “You still are,” she says with a petulant upturn of the nose. “I really thought you were waiting to ambush me! You really gotta be less weird when you text!”

“Haha, fine fine.” He tries to look apologetic, but not really. “So… you alone here? Are you waiting for Todoroki-san, or…”

“Oh… no… he’s busy,” she says. Instinctively, she looks at her phone and sees no messages. She wonders if the surgery is over.

“Hm. Odd.” There’s a little devious glint in his eyes as he says it, one that makes Ochako narrow her eyes at him again like he’s a creep. “What, I’m just saying! Because she told me she’s just finished talking to him, and--”

She? Who she? Also, what would Shindo know about Todoroki anyway? Seriously, why does he care so much about the two of them, when--

“Shindo-senpai. Uraraka-san,” someone says from behind him, making Ochako’s words of protest die in her mouth.

Two people approach from behind them, staring at their conversation as if it’s the strangest thing in the world. Ochako meets Kodai Yui’s raven eyes and glassy skin and aura of gentleness that she’ll never achieve in her lifetime ever. The momentary breathlessness that any normal person gets from staring at her magnifies upon seeing the person next to her.

“Oh… Yui-chan and Todoroki-kun,” Shindo says. Standard friendly smile on his face, a raise of an eyebrow as he glances at Ochako knowingly. “You guys done with your little talk?”

Ochako doesn’t mean to stare, but the way Shouto looks at her in a mildly perturbed manner makes her wonder how shocked her face must look like.

Yui nods. “Our patient is okay. Todoroki-san and Midoriya-san did well.”

The other pro nods, and then sticks his hand out to shake Shouto’s. “So I guess that means I should congratulate you, Doc? Yui-chan was so worried about Tanuki-kun. She was pretty happy knowing that you were on board the case and all, ya know?”

Face not moving the slightest, Shouto nods and takes Shindo’s hand. “Thank you. Seismic-san, right?”

“Nah, you can call me Shindo. Or, senpai. We didn’t go to the same school, but we’re both proper heroes, you and I,” he says, eyes creasing. “Uraraka-san calls me that, so I don’t mind if you do too.”

“Hm,” says Shouto, looking at Ochako curiously.

Ochako stupidly looks down on her hands.

Yui glances at the two of them with an unreadable look before looking at Shindo again. “Senpai, Yoarashi-san might be wondering where we are right now.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Shindo makes a bashful face and bows to the two of them. “Sorry for cutting our conversation off so abruptly, Uraraka-san! I guess we can continue next time, eh?”

“Huh? No, that’s--”

Before she can protest no, we aren’t talking about anything important at all, don’t say misleading things in front of my fake boyfriend, Shindo is already pushing Yui by her shoulders out of the lobby and giving the two of them a small wave of one hand. Soon, they disappear in the elevators, leaving the doctor and the nurse alone.

Shouto blinks once and trains his eyes to hers. “You two seem close,” he says neutrally.

She nods, bites her lower lip. “I knew him from high school.”

My first boyfriend, she wants to say. First person I ever loved. First boy to ever break my heart. Because it’s the truth, a distant one that’s so far away that she should feel nothing significant if she admits them.

Still, she doesn’t. And she wonders why the words don’t come.

“Hm,” Shouto repeats.

There’s something odd going on in his eyes, something very hard to read. Ochako decides that if he were to ask anything at all about Shindo, that she’d tell him everything--how they started and how they ended and how Shindo is weaseling himself back into her life and she’s probably giving him one too many chances to do so by replying to his stupid texts because she’s stupid and lonely and stressed over all the gossip and all the things going on in Shouto’s family that really isn’t any of their faults--basically all that she can’t tell Shouto because heaven knows he’s got too much on his plate as it is, and Shindo seems to like listening to her, but she really wished that it was just Shouto and her and none of this shitty drama--and even though none of this is real, sometimes it feels so real , just like their drive back from Shizuoka, and--

And…

And, Shouto doesn’t say a single word. And… all that senseless drivel dies down her throat. She looks down on her hands again and gives up on that trainwreck of ideas.

Instead, she braces herself and says, “You and Yui-san.”

He blinks. Without a word or a single movement, waits for her to continue.

She inhales as quietly as she can, and speaks again. “I didn’t know you guys spoke too,” she manages, without any incriminating lilts to her tone. Or so she hopes. “I mean… I’m not, you know--I’m just a little bit surprised, I didn’t know she was the pro you were talking about earlier--”

Ochako do you really sound as much as a jealous bitch as you do in your head?! You’re just stating cold hard facts, so don’t be weird about this. Don’t be stupid.

Shouto speaks, after a beat of loaded silence. “I should have texted you about her, I suppose,” he says quietly. “She went to us right before the surgery to make sure that--”

“Paging Dr. Todoroki to ER. Dr. Todoroki, to ER now. Dr. Todoroki--”

They look up the ceiling, then at each other, and down on the ground simultaneously. Open their mouths at the same time, wordlessly clamp them shut as if they’re each other’s awkward, awkward mirrors.

Shouto exhales quietly, and says, “I should go. That might be Dr. Aizawa looking for me. I heard there’s been another Nomu attack nearby.”

Ochako nods. She tries to give a bright smile. “Okay. Do your best, Todoroki-kun.”

“Okay. Be careful going home, Uraraka.” He looks down on her hands, that odd look never leaving. Ochako carefully stares at his mouth, waits for the usual smile he gives her before they part ways.

It doesn’t come. Soon she watches his broad back disappear as he goes past the doors to the ER.

Later, she realizes that she’s still holding the box that Shindo left behind. For Seismic-sama, the card reads, clearly visible to the naked eye.

She wants to shove her face repeatedly into the stupid mochi.

The bothersome feelings of that odd encounter don’t leave her, not even when Setsuna eventually makes it to the lobby and asks her why she looks like she looks like Dr. Shiozaki after talking to an atheist. She manages not to say a lot of how she feels on the way to Illusion Ink, but eventually caves to the heavy interrogation when Kyoka starts working on her tattoo again.

(It’s really hard to be dishonest while a sharp needle is drawing lines on the inner, softer side of your arm.)

She doesn’t tell them about the fake-dating scheme. Just her honest troubles about people talking shit and treating her like shit, but not hard enough that she can complain to people about it. People hinting that she isn’t good enough for Shouto, just because she’s an ordinary nurse with an ordinary face and an ordinary quirk, and how fucked up it is that people would rather see him with Yui-san rather than someone like her.

And actually seeing him with Yui-san, out of nowhere… that took her by surprise. Made her feel weirder than it should. Shouto didn’t even look that bothered when Ochako was eyeing the two of them with all those silent questions floating in her head. She was ready to listen to whatever excuse--no, explanation he would give, but he got paged, and all she has is that heavy shitty feeling in her tummy to bring home.

“Hm,” Kyoka says, as she lifts the needle and dabs her swollen skin with gauze. (Lots of people going hm this evening. She’s starting to get sick of it.) “And you say that Doctoroki saw you talking to that Shindo guy at the lobby, right?”

Ochako winces, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hm,” Setsuna concurs, as her sharp teeth work through a strawberry mochi. “Todoroki saw, all right. I was watching all of you from the back, ‘cause it looked like drama was ‘bout to go down--”

Her jaw drops, allowing a shocked stupid sound escape from it.

“-- and it was obvious that Seismic was super into you,” she continues without an ounce of shame. Her disembodied hand floats and stuffs a mochi into Kyoka’s mouth, who receives it blankly. “If I were Todoroki, I’d be super bothered. But he didn’t say anything at all after that encounter. Right, Ochako-chan?”

She closes her jaw, and winces again. That’s also part of why she feels like shit right now. “Is it weird that I feel bad that he didn’t feel bad about this?”

The other girls look at each other. “Well… I mean if it were us, and it was Yui instead of Seismic makin’ eyes at Kyoka-chan, I won’t be bothered,” says the lizard girl thoughtfully.

“I agree. Yui looks like a sweetheart,” the tattoo apprentice agrees with a sage nod. “I even got her photobook! It’s really nice, I understand why they had a stampede over it--”

“Oh shit, is it the unofficial one by the photographer, Spiral?” gasps Setsuna, eyes wide when Kyoka nods at her smugly. “Let me borrow please omg I heard the entire book is soul-cleansing, and heaven knows my dead and rotting soul needs cleansing--”

Ochako immediately realizes that she’s speaking with the wrong pair. She sighs as they gush a little more about Yui, until they notice her simmering in a pool of insecurity.

“Oh, but we don’t mean that you’re any less of a sweetheart than Yui,” says the internist with a cackle. “Uh… right. What I was saying was, it’s different, what happened earlier. Seismic and you? I dunno, I guess for others it looks like you guys were just talking but… when I saw you I had half a mind to get you out of there… something just didn’t feel right, I guess? And I was totally waitin’ for Todoroki to do the same, but...”

He didn’t. The little nurse twists her lip. “I wish you got me out of there, Dr. Tokage,” she sighs. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so…”

Disappointed. Guilty.

“Weird,” she finishes, with a sigh.

“Hm.” Kyoka and Setsuna say in unison, eyeing her with sympathy and suspicion and it’s weird how they mixed those together.

“Well,” the tattoo artist says thoughtfully, triangular eyes boring right into hers in the most grown-up glint she’s ever seen, “I get the confusion, I really do. You’re dealing with a lot at work, so you’re not at your best right now. Maybe that thing with that Shindo guy is nothing, and that thing with Yui is nothing, and maybe it isn’t worth it to be weird about it. But I think that all those weird things that you’re feeling should be expressed as they are to Doctoroki. You know? I mean… it might be a weird conversation, but you guys are in a real, adult relationship--”

She tries not to choke at the last part.

“--and real, adult relationships require real, adult conversations. Otherwise, there’d be misunderstandings, and trust me, those are the things you want to deal with as soon as possible. Right, Setsuna?”

Setsuna nods and gives Ochako a sawtooth smile. “Gotta say, Ochako-chan, you got your work cut out for you, eh? Shouto’s a talker, isn’t he?”

The nurse sighs deeply. He can be, if he wants to, but it’s obvious that he didn’t want to say anything earlier. Maybe for him it’s all nothing.

Maybe she should talk to him about it. But… how to start talking to Todoroki Shouto about… feelings ?

Yikes, Ochako. Good luck.

The troubled nurse closes her eyes as Kyoka continues shading the entire planet Saturn on her arm.

Me (2143H): hey! Im home from illusion ink. Arm hurts like crazy. Dr Tokage gave me a ride back. How r u?

Todoroki Shouto (2200H): That’s good. I’m waiting for our turn to use the OR. It’s going to be a busy night.

Me (2202H): Oh no. Please do your best! ;;;;

Todoroki Shouto (2201H): Thank you. I will.

Me (2217H): Say, Shouto. I know this is weird for me to ask, but

Me (2218H): Can we talk?

Todoroki Shouto (2219H): ?

Todoroki Shouto (2219H): We’re talking now.

Me (2220H): No, I mean. Like a real talk irl. Over food or sth

Me (2221H): I can treat you anywhere u like promise

Todoroki Shouto (2221H): Ah.

Todoroki Shouto (2222H): It might be difficult to do so soon. I’ll do my best to make time.

Todoroki Shouto (2224H): I’ll let you know as soon as I can.

Me (2226H): Oh! Thats totally fine i get wat u mean

Me (2228H): so yeah, i guess ill just wait for ur schedule to clear up;; and mine too hahaha

Me (2245H): ah, so, i gotta go to bed soon, got the morning shift tomorrow

Me (2246H): good night ^_^

Todoroki Shouto (0214H): Sorry about that. We just got out of surgery.

Todoroki Shouto (0215H): Please be patient with me, Ochako.

Todoroki Shouto (0230H): Good night.

Things happen. Outside, society’s on the verge of crumbling because villains keep popping up left and right.

Life in the hospital, however, goes on.

This week, Shouto and Ochako manage to make exactly one public appearance: a coffee run at the convenience store next to the hospital lobby, before he forces his sleep-deprived self to drive her home. She isn’t sure if he does it out of obligation to their set-up, or if he needed a functioning pair of eyes at the passenger seat to wake him up if he falls asleep on the wheel… which happens twice, at different stoplights.

They make it to Ochako’s apartment without incident. She watches him carefully as he rubs his tired eyes and takes a swig of the cheap coffee, which makes his mouth curl in distaste. “Are you going to make it home, Doctoroki?”

He nods, although his sallow eyes seem to say the contrary.

She swallows nervously and says, “You can… take a nap inside, if you want to--”

“I’ll be okay,” Shouto says, with sudden clarity. “I don’t want to impose.”

But you should, she thinks. “I don’t want you to get in an accident.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

He drains the coffee, to prove his point further. Ochako continues to eye him warily, but it looks like entering her tiny home will make him more uncomfortable than dying on the road, so she keeps her mouth shut.

“You can… take a nap in your car, if you need to,” she says, unbuckling her seatbelt with a sense of defeat.

“Don’t worry about me.” He tries to look at her with some assurance. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home. Or when they pull me out of the wreckage. Either way.”

She laughs nervously. That’s all she can do at this point.

Thankfully, twenty minutes later as she sits on the floor biting her fingernails to the crescent, Shouto sends a photo of his car, parked safely in the garage. Home. I’ll be sleeping in a bit. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

And that’s that, for the week. Ochako feels a little empty, if she were being completely honest with herself, but really, she shouldn’t have hoped for anything different than this sudden exhausted back-and-forth between them.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to feel much more than that.

Because as it happens, on the dull Tuesday that follows, all hell breaks loose in the feelings department, in the worst way that it can.

It happens like this:

1409H. Most of her work is done, she isn’t on deck for the next procedure. All her paperworks are done, and her shift is essentially over. It’s one of those rare good days at work where she finishes on time. Eijirou and Yuuga are done, too, and to celebrate the rare miracle of being out of the hospital in the light of day, they decide to treat themselves to a nice meal.

Eijirou and Yuuga argue about where to go for some time. In hindsight, Ochako thinks that things might have gone differently if Yuuga had insisted on wanting to eat Monoma’s croque madame a little bit more, but as it happens Eijirou convinces them that NTG cafe is the way to go, because have you even tried their truffle pasta Aoyama? Oh my god you should, and also he wants to see if the owner, Bakugou, is doing okay today. (He doesn’t elaborate much when he’s asked why he wants to check, though.)

Ochako hasn’t been to this cafe much--the first time she ordered something, Bakugou was manning the counter and had the gall to write RoundFace on her cup. Never mind how accurate it is, and how very amused Mina was at the time it happened, it was still pretty darn rude. But she digresses.

Today, though, the other blonde barista named Kaminari takes their orders, and they take a seat at the back of the cafe, near the exit at the other side.

As they wait, Yuuga gushes about the Idiabazal cheese he got thru the Cheese of the Month club. Ochako tries to be interested, but ducks down to send a message on her phone very quickly:

Me (1432H): I finished work on time today so im eatin out with eijirou-kun and yuuga-kun :) i hope work won’t be too insane for you today.

She stares at the screen for a good minute after she sends it, expects nothing and sees nothing. She pushes her phone back to her pocket, tries to lose herself in Yuuga’s sparkles, and…

The cafe collectively holds its breath, as the pro-hero Yui enters.

Even Yuuga pauses for a good second to say, “Ah! My, isn’t she stunning?”

Dressed simply in a sleeveless white shirt and jeans that fit her just right; very light make-up that enhances the glow of her face. Straight, dark hair that falls over her shoulders. She goes to the counter to place her order, not minding how Kaminari instantly goes whey and almost messes everything up.

“Yeah, she is,” Ochako admits with just a smidgen of sour in her voice. She watches as Yui regards the grenade-matryoshka bomb at the counter with prolonged interest, opening and closing the doll as if it’s the most amusing thing in the world.

Huh, she thinks, seeing the unmistakable smile on the other girl’s face. So she can do something else with her mouth…

She reprimands herself for sounding so mean, and goes back to sipping her cold brew.

The door chimes as another person enters the cafe. She doesn’t look up, not until she hears Eijirou cough, and Yuuga hum in surprise.

Ochako almost doubles over herself, when she sees the scene in front of her.

Todoroki Shouto looks mildly out of breath, like he ran on the way there. His coat is slung over his arm, and when he reaches out to touch Yui on the shoulder, she turns and stares at him as if she’s expecting him to be there.

“What the,” Eijirou mumbles, looking at Ochako with more than just a little concern.

They exchange very sparse words, and pick a table at the other, more intimate end of the cafe. They don’t seem to notice that they are there. When they sit, Shouto’s back is to them. Yui’s face is visible from Ochako’s vantage point, if she peeks over the other customers’ shoulders.

“Well… this is quite étrange ,” Yuuga whispers to her, conspiratorially. “Did you know about this, mon enfant? ”

She numbly shakes her head and keeps an eye on them from a distance. Yui seems to be saying, thank you for meeting me here, Todoroki-san. You must be busy.

Eijirou reaches out for her hand. “Baby, you okay? Maybe we should go there and say hi? You know, it could be nothing, and...”

Ochako shakes her head again, and watches Shouto’s head move a little as he speaks. The heroine replies with a curt nod. There are plenty of words being exchanged--she misses a lot of the words being said, and barely deciphers, I understand. For your family though, this might be important.

The blonde turns to her with a questioning stare. “ Mes amies, Ochako doesn’t look so well, perhaps we should leave instead, let her have some fresh air--”

“Shush, you two,” she snaps, a little too sternly than she means. Her two friends flinch and look down. She’ll say sorry later, but now she can’t feel any sense of apology, she can’t feel anything--

Okay, Yui says, an odd look in her eyes. Her mouth doesn’t move from its usual straight, impassive line. She says something that Ochako can’t quite catch, and then--

I want to hold your hand.

Shouto freezes. Ochako freezes even more, because Yui reaches out and holds his right hand, and he doesn’t stop her, and she says something in such a low voice, her mouth barely moving, like it’s a secret between the two of them, and Shouto leans forward, says something back, and--

“Babe.” Eijirou’s tone is sharper now, sharp enough to cut through the panicked haze that her head is suddenly lost in. “Ochako. Look at me.”

She does just that, and wonders why his face is suddenly so hazy and why it’s hard to breathe. When she inhales, it’s shaky, and an ugly sob wants to escape from her open mouth. She doesn’t let it though, she focuses on the way Eijirou is holding her hand and the way Yuuga is patting comforting circles at her back, keeping the sounds at bay.

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” the redhead says softly. He shimmies out of his hoodie and places it on top of her shaking head. “You don’t have to say anything, we’ll just get you through the back exits, get you some fresh air--”

“ Oui, ma petite chérie, ” Yuuga adds, dabbing her cheeks with a paper napkin and glaring at the other tables, who begin to stare. “We’ll take care of you, do not worry.”

“Okay,” she hiccups stupidly.

They make it outside somehow, away from prying eyes. Ochako guesses and hopes that the faraway table doesn’t notice them and her and her stupid tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Eijirou drives her home, with Yuuga tagging along, sitting in careful silence.

In her tiny apartment (the one Shouto doesn’t even want to step into, ahhh it makes more sense now), she allows her friends to sit herself down on the floor, wrap a blanket or two around her, play her favorite songs. Yuuga fusses about her bare kitchenette and somehow comes out with a cup of hot cocoa, while Eijirou sends an SOS to Mina and Hanta to come after their shift, if they can.

They ask her to talk, in turn. About her and Doctoroki, if there were any problems, if there were any signs. Because, social media aside, come to think of it, her friends don’t know a thing about the two of them. “I mean, I see you guys eat together at work sometimes, but I… haven’t seen you two talk up close. Except that time in the locker,” Eijirou says as gently as he can.

She shakes her head. Keeping up appearances is hard enough to do for the crowds and Shouto’s family. “We haven’t been… talking a lot.”

They never did get back to talking about their IRL talk. They ask why, and the urge to tell her closest friends about the fake dating scheme wells in her chest like a dam about to break, but she stops herself on time. Still, she can’t give another reason other than being busy. Eijirou and Yuuga look at each other and sigh in unison.

“Whatever is going on, mon cher,” Yuuga says, after they carefully try to wheedle more useless details from her, “You two simply must talk. Yes?”

Ochako sniffles and says, “But… talking is hard.”

She’s afraid of admitting to Shouto that she feels hurt, even though by all accounts she doesn’t have the right to. Especially when Shouto did all this in the first place ‘so no-one gets hurt’.

Eijirou laughs and ruffles her hair, like the brat that she is. “Yeah. It is. But I don’t think you’ll feel any better just not talking about this right?”

She buries her face in her fluffy blankets and whines.

Todoroki Shouto (1756H): Good work today. The patient we operated on is recovering really quickly.

Todoroki Shouto (1758H): Are you on your way home?

Me (1805H): ya i am. In mina-chans car

Todoroki Shouto (1806H): Okay. Let me know when you’re safe at home.

Me (1810H): …

Todoroki Shouto (1812H): …?

Me (1814H): why

Todoroki Shouto (1820H): …

Todoroki Shouto (1821H): I’d like to know that you made it home without anyone causing you harm or threatening you.

Todoroki Shouto (1822H): I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Shizuoka.

Me (1825H): ah. ya that makes sense

Todoroki Shouto (1829H): Are you all right, Ochako?

Me (1830H): yeah i am

Todoroki Shouto (1831H): You sure?

Todoroki Shouto (1832H): Please be honest with me

Todoroki Shouto (1832H): Whatever is bothering you, I’d like to know. I’d like to help.

Me (1834H): Doctoroki

Me (1837H): Shouto, I mean

Me (1838H): When should we break up?

#todoocha #todochako #shouchako #peony pink and cherry blossom tea #cafe/hospital au #todoroki shouto #uraraka ochako #shindo yo #setsujirou #tokage setsuna #jirou kyouka #kirishima eijiro #aoyama yuuga #kodai yui #angst ahhh #sorry

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

The Black Swan

Chapter 3

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 5408

Chapter: 3/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Simon hasn't found Baz again, and it's starting to get to him.

Read on AO3

AN: So to make it clear, I'm planning to update every Monday and every other Thursday. That may change based on mine and bookerella's schedules/work but that's the plan! So if you like this fic, that's the ideal schedule. Hope y'all enjoy chapter three :)

———————————————

Simon liked to be outside the castle when he could. David wanted him inside the castle most of the time, so he seized his freedom whenever possible.

He sat on a hill near the Mage’s School behind the castle. Leaning against a tree, dressed in a simple tunic, sketchbook on his propped up knees. His fingertips were tinted black from the charcoal. He kept trying to draw Baz’s face, trying to keep his image alive, but none of the pictures felt right. Many pages had been sacrificed on the altar of Simon’s artistic insecurity. First the eyes were too big, then too small, mouth too close to a smile then too much like a frown, cheekbones not sharp enough, hair not choppy and wavy enough. It never worked. It never looked like him.

Simon knew his memory was slipping. And he knew the only way to refresh his mental image lay hidden in the Forbidden Lands. But he still hadn't found him again.

It had been over a week since he had literally stumbled on the hidden lake and Baz. Over a week of trekking out into the dark woods and finding nothing. It was so strange that Simon had almost started to think it wasn’t real. A boy who lived in a hidden lake in the middle of the woods and turned into a swan? Insane. Improbable. Something from a time of fairy tales long passed in Watford. There were no more great magical mysteries in the land, not for centuries. Just magical lessons and magical wars and magical cleaning of kitchenware. Magic wasn’t a tool of cryptic things anymore.

But there was a boy, who turned into a swan, living in a hidden lake.

“Hello, Simon, how are you?” Simon jolted, head hitting the tree. He hissed and rubbed the sore spot. “Oh no, are you alright?”

Simon looked up at Ebb, her pale blonde hair shining in the sunlight like a halo, and smiled. “Yeah, Ebb, I’m fine.”

She sat next to Simon in front of the tree. Her staff sat across her lap as she placed a hand on Simon’s aching skull. Simon leaned a bit into the touch. He hadn’t received a lot of physical affection growing up, it was understandable. “I’m very sorry, darling.”

“It’s fine, Ebb. My head can take much worse.”

That made her frown, which made Simon frown. He didn’t like to upset Ebb. Or anyone for that matter. “Well, it shouldn’t take anything.” She looked down at his sketchbook. “What are you working on there?”

Simon sighed, forlornly gazing at the mess of charcoal smudges his latest page was becoming. “I don’t know. It was supposed to be...someone.” Simon didn’t know how to explain Baz. And frankly, he was too tired to try right now.

“Hm, well, you seem to be struggling.”

“Yeah. I keep fucking up and I hate it.”

“Oh don’t be like that, love, it’s fine.”

Simon looked up. Ebb was smiling genuinely, even if it was only a small smile. He smiled back. “Thanks, Ebb.”

They fell into silence. Ebb was watching her goats, making sure they didn’t go too far. If they did, she just mumbled a spell, waved her stick, and they turned back. Ebb practically breathed magic. She was as powerful if not more so than Simon. She didn’t know as much about stuff as Penny (no one did), but she might know something...

“Hey, Ebb,” he said, “do you know how to find someone who’s hidden? From like, everyone?”

Ebb’s pale eyebrows raised quite high. “That’s a bit of a strange question, Simon.”

“I know,” he groaned. “But, I keep looking and I can’t find anything. It seems hopeless. And I’m wondering if there’s no point.”

“Does this person want to be found?”

He shrugged up to his ears. “I’m not sure. So I just want to...check, I guess. Maybe see if he wants to see me. But I have to find him first and that hasn’t been successful.”

“Well, you’re working so hard, but why do you want find him?”

“Because-” Simon’s voice cut off. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get them out. Because of a lot of things. Baz was strange, new, impossible, exciting, everything he heard at storytime as a kid. But it all came down to one thing, he guessed. “Because, I want to learn more about him.”

“Hm, I see.” Ebb scratched her chin like a contemplative scholar. “Well, I’d say check out the royal library. There’s a whole shelf on location spells there.”

Simon jolted upright. “Really? A whole shelf?!”

Ebb nodded. “Yup. I remember seeing it back when I was in school. We were allowed to wander the library freely as students in the old palace. I bet there’s something in the new one you could use.”

Simon felt like an idiot. Of course, the library. He hadn’t even thought to look there, because David didn’t like anyone going in there except him or an occasional Mage’s School teacher. Simon had certainly been conditioned well to avoid it. Worse, Simon hadn’t even thought to use a spell. Magic with him was too unpredictable. But looking on foot certainly wasn’t working. Maybe magic was the only answer.

“I can try that, I gues. Though it won’t be easy.”

“Is it worth the trouble? To find him?”

Slowly, Simon nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Ebb put a friendly arm around his shoulders and patted him kindly. “Good. I’m sure you can do it. I believe in you, Simon”

Simon leaned against her. The scratchy wool of her sweater was comforting on his cheek. “Thanks, Ebb.”

“You’re very welcome.”

She put her head on top of his, and they sat together. Just watching Ebb’s goat herd graze while birds flew over head in the blue sky. Simon was more confident now in his quest, but right now he was tired and didn’t feel like moving. So he leaned into Ebb, because he liked physical affection, and because he liked her. It was easy to forget he was a prince with Ebb. She didn’t care for titles or great power, just for him.

He would start his adventure in a bit. After he sat with his friend for little awhile.

———————————————

“Why is nothing here bloody labelled?” Simon muttered, voice loud in the echoey room. There were no sections or markers telling him which books had which spells. Simon had always been given any books he needed, by David or Mage’s School. It was both a blessing and a current annoyance that he had never had to sort through this goddamn mess before.

The royal library made absolutely no sense to Simon. There didn’t seem to any real logic to how the books were sorted. They looked pretty, arranged in groups of similar colours, and that was about it. Simon wandered up and down the tall, ceiling reaching shelves, looking for a good spellbook. These were only the recent volumes though. The really old ones burned along with other flammable artifacts in the old castle fire. David claimed it was for the better anyway. Newer statement spells were better than the old complicated rituals, apparently.

Simon didn’t care. He just needed a goddamn locating spell.

He pulled a gold volume off the shelf and flipped through the pages. “Construction spells,” he whispered to himself. The scarlet volume next. “Medicinal herbs.” A green one with silver accents. “Fucking battle magic!”

“What are you doing, Simon?”

Simon jumped a few feet in the air. David was frowning only a few steps away. How did people keep sneaking up on him? Lack of sleep must be much more damaging than realised.

“Uh, hello...Father,” he said. “How are you?”

He crossed his arm over his broad chest. “Fine. Now tell me, what are you doing in here?”

Simon’s frantic brain scrambled for an excuse. It was bad enough he was in the library, where David usually didn’t want him. But he certainly didn’t want David to know about Baz. It would make him worry and yell. Simon didn’t want either of those.

“Um,” he drew out, “I think I’m weak on location spells, which are useful in battle when you lose a general right? But I can’t find a spellbook.”

David, thank God, didn’t get angry. He merely sighed and shook his head. “You’re in the wrong section for location spells. They’re two shelves over.”

Simon rubbed his neck. “Oh, sorry.”

The king turned on his heels. Simon scurried behind him with hands in his pockets. They turned a couple of shelves down and walked about six feet in. David plucked a medium sized black leather book off the shelf. He handed it to Simon.

“Here,” he said. “This has some very good location spells. Many varieties for you to practice.”

Simon took the book, hugging it to his chest. “Thank you.”

David nodded. Cautiously, obviously unsure, he placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. The prince jolted slightly. Out of all the people Simon knew, David was the least willing to show any sort of physical affection. It was surprising to say the least.

“I’m glad you’re taking initiative, Simon. Commanding an army is an extremely important duty of a king. You’re doing well.”

Simon’s eyes went wide. He liked to impress David. Half his life was spent impressing David, But this felt wrong. He gulped down the nervous, guilty lump in his throat. “T-Thank you, Father.”

He patted one more time, nodded his crown graced head, and walked off. Simon let out a shaky sigh. He hated lying. But it was necessary right now. David wouldn’t understand about Baz. He’d think it was stupid and reckless. He wouldn’t see the quest part, just the irresponsibility. Simon would tell him, when this all made more sense and everything calmed down.

First of all, he had a lake to find.

———————————————

He stood on the edge of the forest, night air humid and muggy because of Watford’s southern climate. His sword and dagger were at his side, wand in hand. It felt strange to switch his tools. Simon’s wand, a beautiful piece of bone from some unknown animal, was a gift the day he was adopted. It had been an instrument of great frustration and destruction ever since.

Simon whispered the spell under his breath with no magic. It was a location spell that used a mental image as a catalyst. Simon just hoped his mental image wasn’t too degraded for the spell. He held up his wand, pointing it towards the Forbidden Lands, closed his eyes, and conjured Baz’s fuzzy face in his brain.

“Find for me what rests in my mind’s eye,” he shouted into the dark expanse.

His hand started shaking and shaimmering with his magic. But it didn’t move into his wand, where it was meant for the spell. Simon groaned.

“C’mon,” he grumbled. “C’mon, work. Please for once, work.” He groaned and threw his head back. “Work!”

And the magic rushed through his arm and into the wand. It heated up like it was in an inferno. Simon suddenly lurched forward with far more force than a location spell should have.

“What the-” His feet lifted from the ground, and he flew forward. “Shit!”

Simon hurtled through the air like a high speed bird. The whole world became a dark blur as his wand dragged him wherever it wanted him to go. He swung around trunks and through trees, branches smacking him over and over. He put his free arm up in a feeble attempt to protect his face. The wind whistled in his ears, leaves tangled in his hair, but his wand kept pulling him like the world’s fastest flying horse. He couldn’t let go but he couldn’t see either. There was a sudden dive down, and Simon crashed to a stop into a shallow pool of water.

“Ow,” he whined.

“What the everloving fuck?!”

Simon lifted his aching head. There was Baz, with his same sharp cheekbones and grey eyes and uneven black hair, just like Simon remembered. And he was scrambling back from Simon with a look of utter shock and horror.

“Hi again,” Simon said.

Baz blinks at him, jaw hanging open. “Holy shit, it’s you. Weird klutzy idiot.”

“Uh, well, it’s actually still just Simon. But yeah, it’s me.” Simon blinked the water and mud from his vision. His eyes focused better, and widened when he saw Baz’s torso. His bare, tan, muscular torso. “You’re...not wearing a shirt.”

It was hard to tell with his complexion, but Baz’s cheeks may have flushed slightly. He used his large book to cover himself as best he could. “It’s hot,” he snapped. “And I was just recently alone. You’re one to talk, you’re wearing half the forest.”

Simon ran a hand through his hair, shaking out all the twigs and leaves that got caught in his already wild curls. “Oh, yeah. Price of getting here.” He sat up on his knees, sublty slipping his wand in his trousers, entire front soaked and covered with mud, big smile on his face. “But I’m here. Hi.”

“Why are you here?” Baz asked with more horror than Simon would’ve liked.

Simon shrugged. “I, um, wanted to see you again.”

Baz’s thick brows furrowed. “You just...wanted to see me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That really cannot be it.”

Simon shrugged, wet shirt riding up and clinging to his stomach. “I don’t know. We just, we didn’t get to talk a lot last time. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. So, yeah, I wanted to come back, to see you.”

Baz blinked at him, grey eyes wide in utter disbelief. Both stayed frozen for awhile. “I honestly can’t tell,” he said slowly, “if you’re incredibly smart or incredibly stupid.”

He shrugged again. “Probably the second one, honestly.”

Baz sighed. He stood up, book still pressed to his chest, and turned around. Simon gazed at his muscular back for a moment before dropping his head in shame. Baz footsteps waned away, then paused. Simon let himself look up slightly just in time to see Baz throw on a long cotton tunic. He turned around with both hands on his bony hips. Simon scrambled to his feet and took a couple cautious steps forward. The boys stared at each other once more.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” Baz said, voice flat and emotionless.

Simon’s heart sank. He looked at the ground, feet shuffling in the dirt, fingers fiddling with the wet hem of his shirt. “Oh, okay. Do you want me to go?”

The other boy didn’t respond at first. But Simon was too worried to raise his head. “You can’t be here,” Baz sighed. “You’re not supposed to.”

That made Simon tense up. A tiny spark of hope ignited in him. He raised his eyes up slightly. Baz was obviously trying to look nonchalant, bored with this entire affair. But Simon saw that his thin lips were tense

“B-But, do you want me to go? It’s what you want? Yourself?” Simon asked quietly.

Baz seemed a bit shocked by the question. He leaned back slightly, like he’d been jostled. Simon recognised that reaction. He’d been the same when Cook Pritchard asked him if he wanted another serving, and when Simon said he wasn’t supposed to, she told him he could have more if he desired, “supposed to be damned.” It was the first time anyone cared what he wanted. Simon had a sneaking suspicion Baz was the same.

“That’s not what’s important,” Baz whispered. “No one is supposed to see me. I’m meant to be alone.”

Simon frowned. “But, do you want to be alone?”

Baz’s gaze narrowed, becoming grey slits. “Do you think if you keep repeating the same thing you’ll get a different answer?”

He shrugged for a third time. Baz rolled his eyes, sort of like how Penny did sometimes. Simon crossed his arm over his broad chest. “Are you eventually going to give me a real answer? Cause you’re not, you’re avoiding the question.”

Baz was slightly taken aback at Simon’s bluntness. Simon didn’t like this David style of non-answers and dodging. He wanted to know if this was all pointless. If Baz truly wanted his isolation, or if Simon could keep going on this adventure with him.

“I see,” Baz said smoothly. “So, if I ask you to leave, because I want you to, you’ll go?”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, definitely. Whatever you want, I’ll do. So do you want me to?”

Baz’s thin lips shifted back and forth. His long fingers tapped against his thigh rhythmically. Simon was so worried. He was ready to turn around and attempt to fly out, fueled on nervous energy alone. He wanted to stay, but not if Baz didn’t want him.

“Could you help me with something?” Baz asked. His expression was still calm, but Simon was excitedly on edge.

“Y-Yeah,” Simon said. “What is it?”

Baz lifted a long piece of his pretty black hair. “This looks atrocious. I’ve tried using sharpened sticks and failed miserably. But you’ve got that knife. Suppose you could fix it?” Simon chuckled. He couldn’t help it. Baz didn’t look amused, crossing his arms and scowling. “Fine, be like that. If you’re not going to be useful, leave.”

“Sorry, sorry, no,” Simon said over his giggles. “It’s fine, I’ll do it. I just, I didn’t expect a guy living in a cottage by a lake in the middle of nowhere to be so worried about his hair. It’s just, unexpected.”

Baz rolled his eyes, but the smallest smirk pulled at his mouth. It made Simon feel strangely relieved. “I like to look nice even when I’m on my own, sue me. Can you do it?”

Simon nodded vigorously. “Yeah, sure. I used to cut other kid’s hair, I’m pretty good.”

“Why did you cut other kid’s hair?”

Simon rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how much of his past he wanted to disclose just yet, or how much Baz would want to hear. “Uh, they asked, like you. Who was I to refuse?”

Baz let out a scoffing chuckle. “How charitable. Well, if you have so much experience, I expect you not to completely destroy my hair, right?”

Simon hoped he didn’t look to nervous. He hoped not to fuck up Baz’s hair, but still, it had been awhile. “Don’t worry,” he said with only a minor tremor. “I’ll make you pretty and shit.”

“Big promises.” Baz scooped up his book and strolled past Simon. He sat next to the lake, cross legged with the tome once again spread out on his lap. Simon stood frozen in place. He had to admit he was a bit transfixed by Baz’s smooth movements. The swish of his hips, the wasy way he flipped his hair. Baz turned his head slightly, a sliver of playful deep sea grey showing. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Simon jolted, suddenly coming back to life. “R-Right.”

He scrambled forward, unsheathing his dagger as he went. Baz stayed still, calmly reading his enormous book. With shaky hands, Simon reached forward, fingers brushing just under Baz’s hair. It was soft, a lot softer than he expected. Last time he saw Baz, it was all very tangled. But maybe that was because it was just unkempt at the time, and in reality it was soft. Like a silk pillowcase.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Baz asked calmly, turning his page with a snap.

“No,” Simon muttered. “Gimme a second.” He went to his knees, a few respectful feet behind Baz’s back. But his heart was still beating like a rabbit’s even at this distance. He started on the left, with a long piece that went past his shoulders. He held it up to judge it’s length.

“Um, how long do you want it to be?” he asked

Baz still didn’t look up from his book. “I don’t care. Just even it out.”

“O-oh, okay.”

The shortest part of Baz’s hair just reached the bottom of his neck. That was a good length to start at, he guessed. Separating out a thin segment with a pincer grip at the bottom, he sliced a small section off. The black strands floated down onto the green grass. Simon let out a small sigh of relief. It had been awhile since he cut the other little kids’ hair at the orphanage. And he used scissors, not a dagger. He wasn’t going to tell Baz though. This was one shot to be near him, and he wasn’t going to end it prematurely.

Simon moved slowly around his hair, taking small piece by small piece. His hands stopped shaking after a bit. Though the tension was thicker than ice. Simon was still scared to get anywhere near Baz’s skin, for fear of making the other boy pull away. Baz was stiff and straight like a statue. He didn’t even look up from his book. Simon tried to read it over his shoulder, but the text was so small, and the book was far away. He sort of wanted to ask, to maybe break the tension. But Baz got mad at his questions last time. Best to proceed with caution.

“So, uh,” Simon said. “Can I ask you something?”

“No,” Baz replied immediately, shoulders tensing.

Simon deflated. “Oh, sorry. But, why not? I’m just confused.”

“Because,” he punctuated with a page snap. “Cutting my hair doesn’t mean you’re privy to private information about me.”

He frowned, even more confused than before. “Uh, I was just gonna ask what your book was about.”

Baz jolted, nearly making Simon cut out a sizable chunk of his hair. He turned his head, showing his graceful profile and suspicious grey eye. “That’s all?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

Simon shrugged. “I just, wanted to be sure I could ask question. You got pissed last time I asked stuff.”

Baz’s mouth tightened for a moment. “Because last time you asked about my...condition.”

It clicked into place quickly. Simon felt stupid for not seeing the connection. He thought Baz was just closed off and private. This made more sense. “Oh, right, yeah. Sorry. Uh, can I ask you stuff not about, that?” He did want to ask about ‘that’, of course, but there was no point if Baz wasn’t going to answer.

Baz turned back to his book so Simon couldn’t see his expression. “I’ll decide if I want to answer.”

That made a lot of tension fall away from Simon’s being. It was a door only slightly ajar, but a door nonetheless. He’d take whatever taste of mysterious adventure he could get.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So, what’s your book about?”

“The nature of existence. How all creation may have come into being, why it happened, and the points of our lives and the order created by society.” Baz made a show of licking his long finger and flipping to the next page. “It’s an engaging read.”

Simon paused his hair styling. His brain needed a few extra seconds to catch up. “Huh, wow. That’s...a lot.”

“I like ‘a lot.’”

“I can see that. You always read heavy books? Is that what you like? Or do you think it makes you smarter?”

Baz scoffed. “You ask a lot of questions.”

Simon shrugged as he deftly sliced off another piece of raven hair. “I’m just curious.”

“I can see that. Feels unfair though.”

“Huh?”

“You’re asking all these questions of me. Shouldn’t I be able to ask you questions?”

Simon’s hair cutting faltered slightly. “I-I guess. If you want. I don’t think I’m very interesting.”

He couldn’t see his face, but Simon swore he could hear Baz’s smirk. “I doubt that.”

Simon once more faltered in his hair cutting. It would be a miracle if Baz’s hair didn’t end up even more of a mess than it already was. He cleared his throat and continued his work.

“Anything you wanna know?” Simon asked weakly.

Baz shifted his shoulders, the ghost of a shrug. Not unsure as much as contemplative. “Well, since you’re asking me about my book, what sort of books do you read?”

Simon actually shrugged. He’d been told he shrugged too much. “I don’t really read a lot of books.”

Baz sucked in a breath and turned his head. Simon really wanted him to stop doing that. “You don’t read?! Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t read a lot.”

He shook his unequal black hair. “There’s something wrong with you.”

Simon chuckled. “Uh, yeah, definitely, but not because I don’t read a lot.”

“Well, do you read anything at all?”

“Some. I like fairy tales a lot. Y’know, tales of grand heroes and evil wizards and rescuing princesses from towers. That sort of thing.”

Baz’s face pinched together, both confused and slightly disgusted. “Isn’t that kid’s stuff?”

Simon shrugged again. “Kid’s stuff can still be good stuff.

“I suppose,” Baz grumbled. “I just don’t see the point in reading about things that never happened.”

“Cause it’s fun to imagine. Don’t you want to imagine being somewhere exciting and fun?”

Baz’s face went blank. It could only be described as emotionless and bored. Everything about him became closed off. He turned back to his book.

“Everyday,” he said under his breath, quiet enough that Simon knew he wasn’t supposed to hear.

Simon’s stomach sank. He felt like an idiot once again. He often wondered if he ever wouldn’t. It definitely wouldn't be anytime soon. “C-Can I ask you something now?” Simon asked.

“Sure,” Baz muttered.

“Um...” Simon chewed at his lip, trying not to fiddle with his knife so close to Baz’s hair. He decided to go with something simple. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Baz quietly chuckled, and Simon instantly felt relieved. “Going back to basics, I see?”

Simon shrugged for the third time. Maybe he did need to ration that motion. “It’s nice to know.”

“Very well,” Baz sighed. “I like green. And pink occasionally.”

“Hm, you’d look good in pink and green.”

Baz’s shoulders jolted with a small laugh. “Why thank you. Unfortunately all I have is brown.”

“I could bring you some colourful stuff.”

He waved dismissively. “It’s fine, I’ll live. My turn. Favourite animal?”

“Hmmm.” Simon twirled his knife in thought. He pointed it out when the idea popped into his brain. “Dragons, definitely dragons.”

Baz made a weird sort of scoffing noise. “Dragons aren’t real!”

“Yeah, but they’re still an animal. And they’re my favourite.”

“Very well,” he sighed. “I’ll take it. Your turn.”

Simon rummaged in his brain while also trying to fix Baz’s split end. “Um, favourite season?”

“Autumn. Preferred time of day?”

“Uh, daytime I guess, when it’s nice and sunny. Coolest thing you’ve seen in the woods?”

“Ivy so strong it crushed a centuries old tree. Worst story you ever read?”

“Some sad shit about a guy loving a girl who was married. Boring as fuck. He should’ve just moved on. Grossest food you’ve ever ate?”

“Worms. Nearly sicked up first time I ate one. Favourite music?”

“Old folk songs with fiddles. They’re fun to dance to.” Simon pulled back. “Oh. I’m done.”

Baz turned his head slightly, showing a bit of his face. “Done?”

“Y-You’re hair. I’m done.”

Baz nodded in acknowledgment. “I see. Shall I judge your work now?”

Simon nervously fiddled with his shirt hem, his knife, anything he could. “S-Sure.”

Baz snapped his book shut and leaned over the pond. Simon bent around to see better, catching the reflection in the water. His hair was still quite long for a bloke. But at least it was mostly even, the majority at the middle of his neck. A few stray strands chunks fell in front of his face in a lazy wave. Simon sort of liked that.

“Hm,” Baz exclaimed uhelpfully.

“Do you like it?” Simon’s voice was weak and nervous.

“Well, it’s better than before, I’ll say that.” Simon tried to not be disappointed by the lukewarm review. This wasn’t about him. It was about Baz, who looked slightly happier, the tiniest smile playing on his thin mouth. That was what mattered.

“Okay,” Simon said. “Glad it’s better.”

Baz nodded once. He reached into the pond and scooped some water. Miniature waterfalls fell between his long fingers. But he used what remained to slick back the stray parts of his hair. The style revealed a stark widow’s peak Simon had never noticed. Simon thought it looked a bit silly, but good. Baz somehow always looked good.

“There,” Baz said triumphantly. “Now I can see.”

Simon giggled. “Yeah, guess that’s sorta important.” He shifted his knees, looking at the lush green ground so he didn’t have to look at Baz. “Should...should I go now?”

There was no answer for awhile. Simon looked at his shuffling boots, focusing on the cracks and crevices rather than that storm in his gut. He wanted to stay, to learn more about Baz, to not have to go home, to continue his quest. But only if Baz let him.

“It’s my turn to ask a question, right?” Baz said, voice even and sure.

Simon’s head snapped up. The other boy kneeled in a completely neutral pose. Hands in his on his thighs, shoulders back, face flat and normal. Not exactly open but not guarded either. It was a small step, but a step all the same.

“Y-Yeah,” Simon replied. “It’s your turn.”

“Alright. Let me think of something.”

Simon sat cross legged a respectful distance away. Baz sat facing him, hands in lap. Simon stifled the grin that threatened to split his face apart. He didn’t want to seem overly eager. But he was. His life was finally exciting, something other than broken magic and duty. And he was far too excited.

———————————————

He was walking down a hallway. It was made of stone with very high ceilings. But the boy Simon saw through was very short. Maybe it was normal height and he was just small. The walls were covered in large portraits and red tapestries. But Simon couldn’t make out their details. He simply knew their shapes were present. The boy was uninterested in them, because he was a child. And he had somewhere to go. Simon wasn’t sure where. But in his mind, or maybe it was the boy’s mind, he heard, “Where’s Mum?” So he was looking for his mother. It was a foreign thought for Simon, another confirmation he was not himself.

The boy kept walking down the hallway. It seemed to stretch forever. Simon didn’t know if it was because he was small or because it was a dream. But he kept walking, looking at the banners and portraits as they stretched into infinity. He walked and walked and walk-

Was that smoke?

Simon turned around with the boy, just in time to see his previous path explode into flames. It rushed towards him. He screamed as he was thrown off his feet and engulfed by the inferno.

———————————————

Simon bolted up in bed with a gasp. His chest felt tight, skin prickly and muscles aching. When he exhaled, grey smoke came out as of his mouth. His heart immediately seized, remembering his last night in the orphanage all too well, and what happened to him after. Simon looked down at his shaking hands. They clutched the sheet in a death grip. The fabric was singed, slightly blackened and still smoking. Simon ripped his hands away, still glowing a bit in the dim light of early day.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, just like Penelope taught him. In, one two three, out, one two three, over and over in a steady rhythm. Soon his chest stopped hurting, his hands stopped shaking and glowing, and everything was alright. He wasn’t about to blow everything up. Simon opened his eyes once more.

Soft morning sunlight bled in through Simon’s open window. Dawn was approaching. He had tried to get some sleep after returning from Baz’s far too late. But he knew from his aching eyes that he’d barely slept a few hours. He still had to go to lessons though. Simon groaned and threw himself back on the bed. He didn’t understand how he could be so elated yet feel so shitty. What a night.

———————————————

AN: The "you're not wearing a shirt" is the closest we'll get to "you're wearing jeans!" in this fic haha. Hope you guys liked it. See you next Monday!

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #ebb petty #the mage #davy #fantasy au #the black swan #mysnowbazfic

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auroraphilealis · 6 years

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Ready to Let Go (5/?)

Ready to Let Go (5/?) | Dan doesn’t want to go to India in February, just before Valentine’s Day, with his increasingly homophobic parents. He doesn’t want to be a lawyer, or settle down with some pretty girl one day. Dan wants to spend Valentine’s Day with Phil. He wants to be an entertainer. And he sure as hell plans on marrying Phil one day. But more than any of that, Dan just wants be himself. He wants to be happy. Sequel to Too Tense to Be Undone. | Phan | Explicit | Homophobia, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Growing Up, Explicit Smut, Rough Sex, D/S Undertones, Love Making, Rimming, Multiple Orgasm, Blowjobs, Skype Sex | 8,236 Words This Chapter

Thanks as always to @imnotinclinedtomaturity, who probably wasn’t expecting me to ask her to edit today since I hadn’t even BEGUN to re-write the second half of this chapter, and therefore is amazing for doing what she did. That being said, I was too impatient to wait for her to do a “proper” edit, so if there are any issues, that’s all on me. Thank you as well to everyone for being patient with me. I struggled more than I can even began to explain on this chapter, and it was insanely important to me that I got this chapter right. I hope the long awaited conversation ends up being exactly what you guys had been hoping for <3 There’s more to come, so stay tuned!

(Ao3 Link) (Previous)

Kathryn was just as sweet as Dan remembered. The moment Dan entered the hallway to greet her with Phil, Kathryn pulled him into a warm hug, her arms all encompassing despite her slight frame.

She felt like a mum. Not like Dan’s mum, but a mum. A proper mum who knew how to make Dan feel young and small again, despite being 18 and a foot taller than her. There was just something about her that felt loving, and somehow, Dan was lucky enough to get some of that love from her too.

“It’s so good to see you again, Dan,” Kathryn greeted warmly, face pressed into the crook of his neck. “Nigel and I were wondering why we haven’t seen you around recently!” she complained as she pulled back from Dan.

Before Dan could even think about coming up with an explanation for her without having to explain the real reason - that his parents hadn’t known he and Phil were dating until last night - Kathryn’s smiling gaze flicked down to his neck, and began to follow the line of dark hickeys littering Dan’s neck.

Dan blushed deeply as he remembered that Phil had made a mess of him that morning. Terrified that Kath might be offended by the obvious signs of sex, Dan tried to shrink under her gaze, his shoulders drawing up some in an attempt to hide his neck. His eyes darted to Phil’s, who was staring back at him just as nervously.

Fuck, fuck, what was Kathryn going to think of him now? Sure, this wasn’t the first time Dan had paraded around the Lesters’ house with his neck covered in hickies, and sure Kathryn had never said anything bad before, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t eventually.

Surely, there were only so many public displays of their sex life that any person could take, especially a parent.

Dan had just wanted to Phil to make it clear to Dan’s parents who Dan belonged to… he hadn’t exactly thought about the Lesters.

Now he wished he had, if only to avoid the awkwardness of this moment.

Eyes darting back to Phil’s again when Kathryn said nothing, Dan tried to silently plead for help.

Thankfully, Phil understood him. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Phil shuffled his feet a little, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Mum -”

“Oh! What were you saying, dear?” Kathryn asked, jumping a little and dragging her gaze away from Dan’s neck.

Rather than looking disgusted or annoyed, however, Kath just looked quietly amused as she turned to look at Phil. Dan watched as her gaze traced over Phil’s neck as well, saw the way she rolled her eyes playfully, and begin to strip off her coat.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks since Dan was here last, Mum,” Phil said, his voice far too loud in the small hallway, and his cheeks beginning to burn even more as he seemed to remember that he, too, was covered in Dan’s marks.

Mortified, Dan dropped his face into his hands.

“That’s months for you two, Philip,” Kathryn replied, hanging up her coat and giving Phil’s neck an obvious look. “You can’t keep your hands off each other,” she teased with a wink and a laugh.

Dan wanted to die on the spot.

“Right, uhm. Yeah,” he mumbled. “I guess I’ve just been busy,” he added, reaching up to ruffle his hair for something to do with his hands. His cheeks were on fire, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground.

Kathryn shot them both amused looks as she pulled off her shoes.

There was an awkward silence between all three of them while Dan tried to subtly disappear, and Phil did his best to retain some form of dignity in front of his mum.

Then, “So, what’s for dinner?” Phil asked hastily.

Rolling her eyes affectionately, Kathryn stood up straight, and started to head out of the hallway. Almost on instinct, both Dan and Phil followed her.

“Always thinking about your stomach, aren’t you Philip. I was thinking enchiladas, if you boys wanted to help me cook?”

Eyes wild, and terrified that saying no would make Kathryn think he and Phil were going to head back upstairs and have sex again, Dan blurted out, “Sure! I’d love too.”

Phil shot him a horrified look, while Kathryn glanced over her shoulder and beamed.

“Wonderful! Thank you, dear.”

Phil’s hand found Dan’s, and he squeezed so hard that Dan whipped his head up to look at him. Phil’s eyes were filled with anxiety, but he didn’t stop Dan from continuing to follow after Kath.

“I hate you,” Phil muttered.

Dan’s stomach clenched a little.

“I thought you wanted to get away just as bad as I did, and now we have to help mum cook,” Phil practically whined, the look of mortification still plain as day on his face.

Dan’s stomach relaxed, relieved Phil wasn’t actually mad, and he sent Phil a small smile in return.

“I just want her to like me,” he explained.

Phil paused, holding Dan in place for a minute, as he searched Dan’s face in surprise. Then, a small smile of his own crept onto his features. With an obviously fond roll of the eyes, Phil reached up and cupped his cheek, sweeping a finger just under his mouth with a look full of soft adoration.

“She already does,” he said, and leaned in for a quick kiss.

Cooking with Kathryn was easy. She had a soothing personality, and a soft voice, and there was a warmth about her that Dan hadn’t ever experienced in a mother before. She gave easy directions to Dan, having him cut up the vegetables while she prepared the tortillas, and didn’t make fun of Dan when he made a mistake.

Instead, she gently corrected him, teaching him the best way to cut an onion, and how big she wanted the tomato slices to be. She didn’t even complain when she had to throw out bits of food that Dan had “ruined,” where Dan’s mum would have fought to make do, and complained the whole time.

It made Dan feel like he truly was part of the family. It made him feel loved and cared for in a way that Dan’s own mum had never truly accomplished. It made him feel included, and his heart feel warm, as Kathryn and Phil held up a steady stream of comforting conversation.

Of course, the whole evening had started out a little awkward thanks to Kath’s good natured teasing, but it had so easily flowed into something more natural that Dan was almost able to forget the marks littering his and Phil’s neck. From time to time, he’d glance up and catch sight of the angry red, and purple bruises on Phil’s skin, and he blush darkly in embarrassment, but just as quickly as he blushed, he found himself laughing at Kath teasing Phil, and Phil teasing her right back.

When Nigel Lester eventually got home, the atmosphere Kathryn and Phil had created pretty much stayed the same. While Dan’s father had a habit of darkening any room he walked into, Nigel was so calm and unassuming that Dan just felt at peace.

Dinner, therefore, was an easy affair filled with lighthearted conversations that were so different from dinner conversations at home that Dan’s head was spinning. Not once did anyone ask him about his plans for the future, or bother him about school and internships. Instead, Phil chattered about YouTube, and Kathryn mentioned having watched one of Dan’s videos and absolutely loving it.

The easy acceptance, the easy praise and affection, made Dan feel at home for the first time in his life, and for a little while, Dan was even able to forget about what had happened just last night with his own parents. There was just this sense of belonging in the Lester household that Dan wanted to revel in, and no place for thought of his parents.

“So, how do we feel about a movie night?” Kathryn suggested, as she and Dan finished up the dishes. Phil and his dad were talking quietly behind them, still sat at the table, and occasionally offering their help as well. Kathryn was quick to dismiss them every time, but Dan didn’t mind.

He was kind of enjoying his time with Kath.

Normally, Dan loathed having to do the dishes with his mum, as it was usually a chance for her to berate or lecture him, but with Kath, it just felt nice. It felt like bonding, and Dan hadn’t realized how desperate he was for some kind of motherly affection until just then.

“Movie sounds good. Phil and I could make the popcorn. What do you think, Dan?” Nigel asked, drawing Dan’s attention back to the question at hand.

He hesitated, unsure how to react. Dan wasn’t used to spending time with family - his or anyone else’s. His parents never wanted to do anything together outside of carefully constructed family holidays and stoic dinners together. He’d never been invited to spend much time with his ex’s family either, and the idea of hanging out was still so foreign to Dan. It had been strange enough the last few times Dan had been here, but now? After what had happened with his own parents last night?

But a movie did sound good. Dan loved watching movies. It was probably his favorite past time after watching YouTube videos. He was just such a movie buff, and he loved talking about them afterwards, especially with Phil.

Dan didn’t know how to respond. Should he say yes, and risk a bad experience with the Lesters, or say no and disappoint everyone, including himself?

Phil must have taken Dan’s hesitance as a plea for a way to say no, as before Dan could come up with an answer, Phil spoke for him.

“Actually, Mum, Dad, Dan got in pretty early. He’s probably pretty tired already.”

“He got in early, did he?” Nigel asked, a teasing note to his tone. “Yes, I’m sure that’s the reason he’s tired.”

Heat filled Dan’s cheeks as the words sunk in, and he whirled to face both Phil and his dad with his mouth open in protest. First Phil’s mum, and now his dad, too? Could today get any worse?

“That’s not -” Dan started to say, only to be interrupted by a chorus of laughter from both Kath and Nigel. Dan’s cheeks turned absolutely crimson as he stared back and forth between them, his eyes darting to Phil’s.

Phil looked just as mortified, covering his face with his hands at the kitchen table. Nigel reached across to slap Phil on the shoulder, while Kath attempted to muffle the sounds of her giggles.

Dan could do nothing but try his best not to groan out loud.

“I’m only teasing,” Nigel eventually said, when his laughter had petered out some. “It’s fine, Dan. If you’re tired, you and Phil should head up to bed.”

“I’m fine!” Dan blurted out, before he could really think about it. “I’m not tired at all! A movie sounds great!” he continued, feeling more and more flustered by the minute. Whirling on his feet, Dan went right back to vigorously scrubbing dishes dry, and placing them carefully into the Lesters’ cupboards, eyes wild with mortification.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dan had only just gotten over being caught out and called out by Phil’s mum, and now this?

Dan’s cheeks were absolutely on fire by the time Kath reached out and touched him, her fingers soft against the inside of Dan’s wrist.

Dan’s head snapped up to look at her.

“If you’re sure, dear,” she murmured, her voice sweet, and her gaze understanding. “We could always watch a movie another night,” she offered.

But there was something about her gaze that made Dan’s previously racing heart began to settle back into a normal rhythm. There was something about the warmth she exuded that reminded Dan that her and Nigel’s teasing was nothing more than good natured ribbing, and while Dan still felt humiliated, somehow, he felt better about it at the same time.

Slowly, he felt himself beginning to smile.

Because the Lesters… they felt like a real family, and Dan had never had that before.

“I’m sure,” Dan murmured back, offering Kath a quick nod of his head when she cocked her head inquisitively at him. They stared at each other for another long moment, before Kath burst into a wide smile.

“Alright, dear. Do you think you and Phil could make the popcorn, while Nigel and I pick out a movie?”

Nodding, Dan finished drying off the last plate, and stuck it in the cupboard, before letting the door fall shut. Kath patted Dan on the arm one last time, and then turned to walk away, Nigel following behind her.

Phil took her place. As Dan turned, putting his back to the sink and letting out a huge sigh, Phil stepped in close, and pressed the palms of both of his hands on Dan’s waist.

“Sorry,” Phil giggled, his cheeks still a dark red. “Sometimes my parents don’t know where to draw the line.”

Dan shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he reassured Phil, though his cheeks still felt warm. “It’s kind of nice… you know, that they don’t care,” Dan explained, avoiding Phil’s gaze.

“Care about what?” Phil asked, clearly confused.

But Dan just shook his head, looking back up and offering Phil a smile. “Nothing,” he said. “Let’s make that popcorn, yeah?”

Phil cocked his head in confusion at Dan, but didn’t pry. Instead, he released Dan’s hips without so much as a protest, and went to retrieve the popcorn.

Dan mostly just left the cooking to Phil. He ended up watching the way Phil moved, puttering about his kitchen, making himself a quick coffee, and getting the popcorn going in the microwave. He shouted an offer for coffee or drinks to his parents, who both said no, and then offered Dan one as well. With a quick shake of his head, Dan said, “No, I’ll just steal some of yours,” despite the fact that he hated the way Phil took his coffee.

He just wanted to share everything with Phil today. Even coffee.

When the two bags of popcorn Phil had pulled out had finished cooking, the two of them headed back into the lounge, with Dan and Phil each holding a bowl of popcorn. Still trying to make a good impression on Phil’s parents, Dan handed them the bowl he was holding, smiling at the way they curled up together on the sofa. Dan had never seen his own parents cuddle like that.

It was a reassuring sign that not all relationships had to be like his parents.

After dropping off the popcorn, Dan turned, only to find that Phil had already made his way across the room to the recliner, and sat down. He even had the foot rest already pulled up and out, so he was practically laying down, a sight that made Dan feel incredibly confused.

Pulling up short, Dan blinked at Phil a few times, and then walked over hesitantly to meet him.

What was doing? Did he not want to sit with Dan?

But then Dan got closer, and he realized that Phil was sitting with his legs spread, popcorn bowl in one hand, mug in the other, both resting on the armrests, as he stared up at Dan with such an obvious look of come here, that Dan suddenly understood. Once again, his cheeks flushed a dark red, and he turned to glance pointedly at Mr. and Mrs. Lester. Neither parent was looking, though, and when Dan turned back to Phil, he was smiling as if his parents didn’t matter.

Who knows. Maybe in that moment, they didn’t matter to Phil.

“Come here, dork,” Phil said fondly, nodding towards his lap. “My parents don’t care,” he added in a much quieter voice, one that was very obviously intended to avoid catching his parents’ attention.

Dan glanced behind himself one last time just to make sure, but Mr. and Mrs. Lester were giggling together as they fed each other popcorn, and they’d already pressed play on the movie they’d picked out. Clearly, they weren’t paying Dan or Phil any attention.

Dan turned back around to find Phil staring at him fondly, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Come on,” he insisted softly.

Biting his bottom lip, Dan finally gave in. What use was there in arguing anyway? He wanted to sit with Phil, and the opportunity to sit in his lap was far too good to pass up. It was just - Dan was nervous. He’d never really done this kind of thing before in front of someone’s parents. With his ex, there had always been a carefully controlled amount of space between then, and limited PDA. Being so open was… new to Dan.

Still. He wasn’t going to give this moment a pass, not if the Lesters really didn’t seem to mind. Which, from the looks of it, maybe they didn’t.

Stepping forward, Dan went to climb over the footrest and onto the recliner with Phil, when he remembered Phil’s coffee. His eyes caught on the precariously-held mug, and he reached out and grabbed it before he could think about it.

“Don’t want you to spill it,” Dan explained hastily, his cheeks growing somehow warmer. Phil’s mouth dropped open a little in surprise, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he just kind of stared at Dan.

Placing the mug down on the coffee table next to Phil’s recliner, Dan sent Phil a smile, and then went about climbing up into the seat with him. With Dan’s overly long limbs, the movement was a little bit awkward, and the fact that he needed to avoid touching Phil in any inappropriate places made him feel even more awkward.

As Dan crouched over the top of Phil, his hands on either side of Phil’s head, and his body caging Phil’s, Dan glanced over the Lesters. Kath was staring right at him.

The attention caused Dan to slip, and he gasped, eyes going wide, as his grip on the chair relaxed unconsciously. For a moment, Dan flailed, whipping his head back around to stare at Phil, and catching himself on his boyfriend's shoulder. Phil’s eyes were wide as well, though he was laughing, but Dan couldn’t be bothered by Phil’s reaction.

He was more concerned with Kath’s. Warily, Dan turned again to look at Kath, only to find her hiding a laugh behind her hand as she turned her attention back to the TV.

His cheeks flushed even darker now, Dan turned back to stare at Phil’s chest, and shifted to turn around on Phil’s lap.

Phil’s empty hand reached for Dan’s waist as he started to get settled, and helped guide him into place. His hand was hot even through the shirt Dan was wearing, and it made Dan shudder a little with desire, because every touch of Phil’s sent an electric shock through his body. What was even better, however, was the feel of Dan’s body settling on top of Phil’s as he sat, and his body naturally melted backwards against Phil’s chest.

Dan’s nervous expression softened into a smile.

Because this was wonderful, and if he got to spend the entire movie curled up with

Phil like this, well then he was the luckiest man on Earth.

“Told you it’d be fine,” Phil murmured against the shell of Dan’s ear as he wrapped his arm around Dan’s waist, and placed the popcorn bowl on Dan’s lap.

Dan blushed all over again.

“I’m not too heavy for you, am I?” he whispered back.

Phil chuckled, and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Dan’s neck.

“Course not, love. Don’t even think about it.”

So Dan didn’t. Instead, he turned and reached over to grab the coffee mug off the coffee table, then settled back into Phil, and did his best to relax.

It was difficult at first. Dan kept catching himself throwing glances over at Phil’s parents, wondering if they were staring at Dan and Phil, but they never were. The more times Dan looked, and the more times he found that neither Lesters were paying them any attention, the more comfortable Dan began to feel.

And then, as Dan finally relaxed properly into Phil’s body, Phil reached up and pressed a bit of popcorn to his lips. Startled, Dan turned his head a little, and looked back at Phil to find him smiling at Dan.

Gently, Phil nudged the bit of popcorn at Dan’s lips, and nodded his head as if to say take it.

Slowly, Dan parted his lips, allowing Phil to press the kernel into his mouth. Phil slipped his fingers in alongside the bite of popcorn, so Dan could taste Phil’s skin against his tongue just as much as the buttery popcorn, before he slowly pulled away.

Mouth watering for a different reason than the popcorn, Dan bit into the kernel, and chewed slowly for no other reason than because he was trying to control himself from jumping on Phil and kissing him right then and there. Furtively, Dan shot a glance over at the Lesters again, only to find that Nigel was doing much the same for Kath, but with far less sexual tension.

Turning to look back up at Phil, Dan opened his mouth to demand Phil stop teasing him, but before he could speak, Phil pressed another piece of popcorn into Dan’s mouth, this time drawing his fingers sensuously against Dan’s lips as he pulled away.

Dan’s mouth fell shut on instinct.

“Good?” Phil asked, voice husky.

Dan nodded his head.

“Good,” Phil said again, and settled back into the recliner as if nothing had happened.

Dan swallowed thickly, and chewed the popcorn currently in his mouth quickly, unsure when Phil was going to feed him another - but if Dan was being honest with himself, no matter how much he hated the teasing… he kind of wanted Phil to do it again.

And he did. For the rest of the night, in fact. Phil fed Dan the majority of their popcorn bowl, only pausing occasionally to offer Dan sips of his coffee, before starting back up again. At first, the sensation continued to feel sexual in nature, but as the night wore on, and the movie grew more and more serious, followed by an overly sappy ending, Dan noticed Phil’s motions becoming more sweet, and less teasing.

It was nice. It was really nice. While Dan loved the sexual nature of his relationship with Phil, he liked the affectionate one just as much, and he knew Phil did too. Everytime Dan got to see Phil like this, Dan’s heart curled up in deep satisfaction, because Dan knew that he was special, and that he was the only lover Phil had ever acted like this around.

As the credits finally began to roll just past ten o’clock, Mr. and Mrs. Lester stood up with big yawns. Nigel stretched his arms over his head, while Kathryn turned to smile at Dan and Phil.

“Alright boys, I think it’s time for your father and I to head up to bed,” she announced.

Dan glanced over at Phil, who didn’t look the least bit tired (probably due to the coffee they’d been drinking) and then back over to Kath.

“Sleep well, Mrs. Lester,” Dan said.

Kathryn laughed, and shook her head.

“Call me Kath, Dan,” she said. “After what I’ve seen, I think we’re on a first name basis,” she added with a wink and a loud laugh.

Mortified, Dan’s cheeks flared red.

“Oh my god, Mum!” Phil complained with a surprised laugh, his arm tightening around Dan’s waist to hold him closer.

Kathryn rolled her eyes, while Nigel merely smirked at the two boys, arms crossed over his chest and body turned towards the stairs. It was clear he was ready for bed, and all Dan could think was please take your wife with you and make her stop teasing us. But he didn’t.

He just let Kath keep talking.

“Oh hush, Philip. A mother knows, you know,” she joked. “And do it keep down tonight if you two decided you’re not too tired to have another go,” she teased one last time.

Before either Dan or Phil could say another word, or defend themselves, Kath stepped forward, looped her arm through her husbands, and lead him straight upstairs.

Dan’s mouth fell open in utter shock.

“Did that just happen?” he asked, once Kath and Nigel had disappeared up the stairs. A few seconds later, Dan heard their bedroom door close.

“Yeah, it did,” Phil said, and immediately burst into laughter. Dan turned in his lap to find that Phil had thrown his head back, and his adam’s apple was bobbing from the force of his laughter.

“Oh my god, Phil!” Dan complained. “Stop laughing!”

Turning properly in Phil’s lap, Dan threw his legs over the armrest, dislodging the empty popcorn bowl from his lap and sending it tumbling to the floor, and swatted playfully at Phil’s chest.

“It’s not funny!” he complained.

“It sort of is,” Phil shot back, leaning in to press a kiss to Dan’s neck. He was still laughing, the kiss a little bit wet, and very warm, but filled with the sensation of Phil’s amusement.

Dan groaned, and wiggled away.

“Stooooop,” Dan complained, “Your parents are home!”

Phil’s arms snaked more tightly around Dan’s waist, and he pulled him closer to his body, lips finding the shell of Dan’s ear. Dan shievered as Phil placed a kiss there, his humor from earlier clearly gone.

Dan wasn’t sure if he was ready to find out what the humor had been replaced with.

“Says the boy who wanted to fuck on my parents’ kitchen table. Do you know how difficult it was to keep a straight face while we were eating there?” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with warm desire. Dan’s eyes went even wider, his cheeks darkening, as Phil continued. “I’m not sure if I was more mortified, or turned on by the fact that what happened there is our little secret.”

Dan didn’t have a response to that. It wasn’t something he’d exactly been thinking about, considering he’d been so distracted by how pleasant Phil’s parents were, but now that he was thinking about it, he definitely felt mortified. Shoving his face into his hands again, Dan groaned against his palms, and chose not to reply directly.

“Why were you thinking about that?” he asked instead.

Phil chuckled against Dan’s ear, and nuzzled at the sensitive bit of skin just behind it. “How could I not?” Phil asked, “Do you think I’ll ever be able to eat there again without getting turned on? Do you think I’ll ever be able to use my shower again without having to jerk off?” he pushed, breath hot against Dan’s skin. He nuzzled at Dan’s ear again, before kissing it lightly, the sound of his voice and the feel of his lips sending heat coursing through Dan’s veins.

Dan’s cock stirred in his pants.

“Phil,” Dan gasped, turning his head a little. “Phil, stop… You’re gonna make me…”

“Make you what?” Phil asked, shifting a hand to play at the hem of Dan’s shirt.

Dan squirmed, and jerked away. He could feel desire beginning to course through his veins, but he wasn’t entirely sure he had another round in him, especially not after all of Phil’s parents’ teasing. It felt entirely inappropriate to do anything more while the Lesters were home when they were already joking about Dan and Phil’s morning activities.

Turning his body completely, Dan swung his legs back off the arm rest, and pressed his back to Phil’s chest. Not so casually, Dan grabbed Phil’s wrists and tightened them around his waist, holding them in place. Then, he sighed and rested his head on Phil’s shoulder, face turned and tucked into his neck.

“I hate you,” he complained, only for Phil to laugh in return.

“I love you, too,” Phil shot back, his voice warm and affectionate. Sighing a little himself, Phil seemed to give in to Dan’s desire for non-sexual cuddles, and held him back easily, his fingers rubbing soothing circles against the skin of Dan’s hands. Despite Dan being the one holding Phil’s arms in place, it truly felt to Dan that Phil was the one holding Dan in place.

He was like an anchor keeping Dan from floating away. To where, Dan wasn’t sure - all he knew was that if it weren’t for Phil this morning, Dan wasn’t sure what he would have done. He clearly hadn’t been able to stay at home, not if he wanted any semblance of having control over his own life, but he’d also been so stuck inside of his own head that he’d been desperate for Phil to show him that everything was going to be alright.

And Phil had.

Because Phil… was truly a very special person.

They sat like that what seemed like a long time. The coffee had done it’s trick, Dan wasn’t tired, and he could feel by the way Phil was breathing under him that Phil wasn’t tired either. As Dan continued to dwell on the events of the day, he began to realize why Phil might have had them drinking coffee tonight.

He was still waiting for that talk Dan had promised him.

And Dan couldn’t blame him in the least.

Letting out a deep sigh, Dan relaxed further into Phil’s body, unsure how to get the ball rolling on that conversation. He wanted to stay in this moment forever.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think Phil deserved an explanation… it was just, Dan had put it off so long that he was starting to feel more and more nervous about bringing it up.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to because Phil did it for him.

“Dan,” Phil murmured, pulling away from Dan some. Dan turned his head to find Phil shuffling to the right, putting some distance between their bodies. The movement forced Dan to lean further back into the actual recliner, rather than Phil’s body. “I hate to bring this up, but… you promised we’d talk,” he continued. His mouth was pushed into an uncertain grimace that Dan hated to be responsible for.

“I know,” Dan agreed instantly. Letting out a deep sigh, Dan pushed a hand through his curls, and turned his body on the recliner so he was facing Phil.

The problem was, he still didn’t know where to start.

His eyes found Phil’s and he held onto his gaze as tightly as he could, unblinking, a little uncertain, and a lot shy. Phil stared back, squinting at Dan as if he were trying to read through the shields Dan had had up all day..

Dan wished it were possible to read minds.

“What’s going on, Bear?” Phil asked after another moment of silence dragged between them.

The childhood nickname sent a shiver down Dan’s spine, and he blinked against the pain that washed over him.

Instantly, Dan recoiled, flinching away from the conversation, away from Phil, away from that name.

“Don’t call me that anymore,” Dan blurted out, his mouth clamping shut around the words. He felt his eyes go wide as Phil flinched away from Dan’s harsh tone. Phil’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Dan…” he murmured, reaching over to press a warm palm on top of Dan’s thigh. “Dan, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? I thought you loved that nickname -”

“My parents told me to stop seeing you,” Dan blurted out again, cutting Phil off.

This time, Phil reacted with a notable gasp, the sound harsh and loud in the quiet of the lounge.

Unable to face Phil’s reaction, Dan bit down hard on his lip, and closed his eyes. Before he could stop himself, he curled up in as tight of a ball as he could manage, shuffling away from Phil’s body, and tucking himself into the far corner of the recliner. He wrapped his arms tight around his legs as his muscles clenched up, filled with a tension Dan had thought he’d managed to work out that morning. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

Phil didn’t say a word. In fact, the hand he’d pressed against Dan’s thigh had retracted completely, and if it weren’t for the rest of their bodies inadvertently touching, Dan might have actually panicked.

The silence between them was heavy.

Dan was too afraid to open his eyes and find out what Phil was thinking. Remembering what his father had basically demanded of Dan was bad enough, but having to say it out loud? Having to wait for Phil’s reaction? That was almost worse.

The silence was killing him, but Dan couldn’t bring himself to break it.

“Is that why...?” Phil finally asked, his voice cracking on the words. “Is that why you’ve been so clingy today? Are you - is this -” Phil choked, the sound shocking enough to force Dan to finally open his eyes and look up at Phil.

His eyes were wet, and he was biting his bottom lip so hard it had turned white.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Phil asked, lips shaking.

Dan’s mouth dropped open.

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded. Had he heard that right?

Phil’s eyes fell shut, and Dan watched on helplessly as the tears fell, dripping down his cheeks and stopping at his shaking lips.

“Dan, did you come here to break up with me?”

“No! What the fuck, Phil!?” Dan shouted, body uncurling as he scrambled back to Phil. Their knees knocked together painfully, but Dan didn’t care. He shifted his body so that he was straddling Phil, shoving him back into the recliner, and nearly sending both of them flying backwards. At the last minute, Phil reached out and grappled with the armrests, preventing them from tipping too far back. After a few precarious seconds, the recliner settled.

“How could you even think that?” he demanded, voice a more hushed shout now, as Phil shook his head venehemtely, eyes darting back and forth from Dan’s, to upstairs, where his parents had gone to bed.

“You just told me your parents told you to leave me!” Phil whisper-shouted back, expression filled with pain. “After I asked you to tell me what the hell was wrong with you today!” he added.

Dan shook his head. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to break up with you!”

“Well it doesn’t exactly come across as you not!”

Dan froze.

The realization that Dan hadn’t exactly told Phil one way or another what he was planning to do slammed into Dan, but it wasn’t as if Dan had exactly thought this whole conversation out. He’d just… kind of blurted out the first thing that had come to mind.

Still.

How could Phil ask him that?

Brow crumpling in pain, Dan groaned and leaned forward to press his face into Phil’s neck.

“I thot uw nu me ber than thot.”

“What?” Phil asked.

With a moan of distress, Dan pulled his face back from Phil’s neck and tried again. “I said, I thought you knew me better than that,” he mumbled, avoiding Phil’s gaze. He could feel tears of his own flooding his eyes again.

It was bad enough that Dan’s parents had rejected him last night. But now this? Dan didn’t know what to do with this.

“Dan,” Phil murmured. His voice was soft, edged with a brokenness that forced Dan to look back up at him. “Dan, what did you expect me to think?”

“I dont know!” Dan nearly shouted, quieting at the last second thanks to a quick “shh!” from Phil. “Something other than this!” he added for good measure. His brow furrowed, and he drew back again, so his body was bowed, hovering over Phil’s, his hands on either side of Phil’s head.

It seemed impossible the recliner was still holding them up.

Phil shook his head, his expression fading back into the heartbroken one Dan had seen one too many times today.

“Dan,” Phil repeated, voice shaky. “Dan, how in the world could I think otherwise with the way you’ve been acting all day?”

That brought Dan up short. He inhaled sharply as he realized that Phil was right.

Dan couldn’t really imagine his behavior from an outsider’s perspective, but he could recognize that he’d been acting incredibly abnormal - abnormal enough that Phil had questioned him more than once that morning.

He’d convinced Phil to have rough sex with him in the kitchen, for fuck’s sake, and had been so desperate to feel something other than rejection, that he’d tried to convince Phil to fuck him dry.

But erase the knowledge that Dan had been feeling absolutely fucking devastated, and what did that leave Phil with?

A messy, needy boyfriend who’d refused to stop and explain anything to him.

Shame filled Dan as he realized just how irrational he was being. He couldn’t drop a bombshell like this onto Phil, and not expect him to react just as badly as Dan had when his father had said it.

Groaning, Dan fell forward into Phil’s body, and shoved his face back into his neck, doing his best to hide from the pain he’d caused. He could feel the tears starting to drip passed his closed eyelids as he struggled to get his arms around Phil’s body to hold him close.

Phil’s arms wrapped around Dan’s waist easily, squeezing him back. The touch came almost as a surprise. At least, the ease of it. The familiarity. Phil wasn’t holding back, wasn’t denying Dan the comfort he was so obviously seeking, and it gave Dan a sense of relief to know he hadn’t entirely fucked up.

“‘M sorry,” Dan mumbled.

Beneath his head, Dan could feel Phil trembling - a reaction Dan had never thought to expect. Of all of the emotions he’d expected from Phil - anger, empathetic hurt, calm reassurance - fear had never been one of them.

Dan had never thought Phil would jump to the worst possible conclusion.

In some sick, twisted way, it was comforting - a sign that Phil was just as invested in this relationship as Dan was, to the point where he he couldn’t fathom losing Dan either.

Dan just wished it hadn’t come to this.

“I just want to understand what’s going on,” Phil sniffled, squeezing Dan tighter when he attempted to pull away. “I thought something had happened… I thought maybe you were second guessing our relationship, or -”

Dan made a sound of muffled protest, and tried harder to squirm away.

Voice trembling, Phil pushed on, ignoring Dan’s attempts to interrupt. “- or - or. Well, you asked me to mark you up, Dan.”

Distressed, Dan finally managed to drag himself out of Phil’s arms. He could feel his heart breaking at the very idea Phil had suggested - of what Phil had feared.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dan begged, grasping Phil’s face in his hands, and holding on tight. He was sniffling, but he couldn’t help it. His heart felt like it was going to fall right out of his chest, it hurt so bad.

How had Dan managed to fuck up so bad?

“Because you were hurting!” Phil shot back, eyes wet with tears of his own. “I don’t know, Dan, I was afraid! What do you want from me, I’m not a robot! I feel things, too! I’m not perfect, either!”

Dan didn’t have a response to that. He’d never felt like such a selfish asshole. The last thing he’d wanted was to hurt Phil like this. If he’d known… if he’d only just realized… why hadn’t he questioned it more when Phil had given him those heartbroken looks earlier? Relationships weren’t one sided, Dan couldn’t just go along ignoring Phil’s feelings just because his were a wreck right now.

Trying to hold back from making this any more about him than it currently was, Dan sat up on Phil’s lap despite Phil’s protests, and his grasping hands, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re going to tell me exactly what you thought was happening today, Philip,” Dan demanded, though his voice was so wet with his tears that he feared he didn’t come across nearly as seriously as he wanted too.

Phil groaned, closing his eyes for a brief moment and biting his lip again. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with tears.

“Well I didn’t think I was marking you up for your parents,” he spit out, his voice wobbling. “I thought something had happened with someone. Or - like, someone was pushing in on our relationship, trying to get with you, or something,” he explained. His voice was shaking hard enough that Dan wanted nothing more than to tell Phil to stop, if it meant not having to hear his agony. But Dan needed to hear this, and Phil needed to get it out.

“Fuck, Dan, I don’t know. You weren’t exactly forthcoming this morning! You wanted me to mark you up, to show someone you were mine! What the hell was I supposed to think?” Phil asked, shoving his hands through his fringe, and grasping onto his roots a moment later. Dan watched as Phil yanked on them, eyes falling closed as he started to cry again.

“I thought - I thought - I thought you were trying to decide whether or not you should stay with me.”

Dan’s heart absolutely broke. That was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear from Phil. Not even for one moment had Dan considered Phil might think that of all things.

His mouth fell open, but before he could even think to respond, Phil cut him off.

“You asked me to give it to you rough, Dan,” Phil said, pulling his hands free from his hair, and opening his eyes to stare imploringly up at him. “And then you wanted to have sex again, and I just - I couldn’t help thinking you were trying to test me, or something. Like you wanted to know how good I could give it to you, or, or -”

Phil’s voice cut off as he inhaled sharply.

“I thought you’d found someone else who could - who could - help you finish,” he said, gasping. “That you didn’t need me anymore, or like - like that’s all this was for you, that I was just -”

Dan whimpered, horrified at the very idea of Phil not knowing that he was so much more than sex for Dan, but Phil just continued to talk over him.

“And then there was cuddling, and you woke me up with a blowjob, and I - I - I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”

Suddenly, Phil absolutely deflated. His body sunk back against the recliner as if he were a rag doll that had just been wrung out. Dan watched as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, and pushed down hard.

It took a moment, but Phil eventually let out a harsh gust of air, and pulled his hands away.

“I couldn’t figure out what you were doing. All I knew was… you were asking a lot of me, and you wouldn’t tell me why.”

Dan felt gutted. He knew he’d asked Phil to tell him, but still. It was a lot. And suddenly Dan realized that he’d put a hell of a burden on Phil’s shoulders today.

He never should have expected him to be able carry it, and yet Phil had -at least in Dan’s eyes. Dan had never felt more safe and happy than he had today… it was soul crushing to realize that it had come at the expense of Phil’s happiness.

“God, Phil, I can’t believe -” Dan started to say, cutting himself off in frustration as he realized the words weren’t quite what he’d intended to say. He shook his head, feeling a little bit like he was going to throw up from Phil’s confession. “I’d never -” he tried again, stumbling over his words as he stared down at Phil.

“I’d never cheat on you,” he settled with, the words coming out a horrified whimper.

Phil stared up at him with tears in his eyes, but he nodded with a broken looking smile. “I know, I know, I just -” Phil didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he grimaced as if he couldn’t finish the sentiment. But it didn’t matter, because Dan understood.

Phil had been insecure, and it had been all Dan’s fault.

“I love you,” Dan pleaded, hiccuping a little. He could feel his voice breaking, and it sucked. It sucked because Dan wasn’t done. “This isn’t - this isn’t just about - I don’t care that -”

Dan stopped and shook his head, staring down at Phil in absolute misery.

“This isn’t about the sex Phil. This,” Dan said, waving between the two of them, “Is about so much more than what you can do to me. Physically.”

In fact, Dan was almost certain that Phil was it for him. He didn’t want anyone else, and as fucking cliche as it sounded, as much as Dan didn’t believe in fate, it felt like Phil and him were meant to be.

“You’re everything I want, Phil,” he explained. “I should have just told you from the beginning,” he whispered, eyes beginning to sting again. “I should have just told you,” he repeated.

“Why didn’t you?” Phil asked, sounding hurt.

“Because I wasn’t ready to talk about it - about my parents,” Dan admitted, biting back tears. His voice was hoarse, so he tried to clear it, but it was a lost cause. He could feel the tears bursting to be released, and he tightened his hands into fists at his sides. “Because I was afraid that if I said it out loud… if I told you...”

Dan’s voice trailed off. He coughed, grimacing, his eyes falling shut.

Phil twitched underneath him.

“If you told me… then what?” Phil urged, his voice an obvious, broken plea.

“Then it would be real,” Dan gasped, releasing a truth he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto. His shoulders slumped, and he felt himself sway forward as the reality hit him.

Phil’s hands finally came up and braced against Dan’s hips, holding him steady in a way that made Dan feel like Phil was lending him his strength. It was enough to get Dan to lift his head up and look at Phil, tears dripping down his face.

“Baby...” Phil said, frowning. “It is real,” he whispered, his voice soft and so, so understanding that Dan couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know,” he admitted, and his face crumpled as he finally let go, and allowed himself to cry.

Phil didn’t even hesitate. Using his grasp on Dan’s hips, he urged Dan to fall into his arms, and held on tight. His fingers dug into Dan’s shoulders as he wrapped his arms around him, his mouth falling to Dan’s neck where he pressed several gentle kisses, and murmured an array of soothing words.

Dan’s body was wracked with sobs as he leaned into Phil. He could feel himself beginning to relax, however, the tension draining out of him as Phil held him. For the first time all morning, Dan realized that this was what he’d needed all along. He just needed to cry, and be held by someone who loved him and accepted every part of who he was. He needed to mourn what he’d lost last night - any hope of his parents loving him unconditionally.

Sure, he’d needed the other things too. Twelve hours ago, he’d been too angry to even contemplate crying like this, to even contemplate the fact that he’d lost something. He’d just wanted to get revenge, to make a statement, to make sure that his parents would be able to visually see who Dan was, and what he’d done with his boyfriend.

But he’d needed this even more, and now that the wave of pain was crashing over him, Dan wanted nothing more than to give into it.

So he did.

He let Phil hold him tight, and did his best to listen to the sweet, soothing words Phil whispered in his ear, while he cried his heart out into his boyfriend's neck. The sounds he made were probably far too loud for the two sleeping parents upstairs, but Phil never shushed him, and no one ever came down to figure out what was going on.

It was just Dan and Phil, against the world.

“So what now?” Dan asked what felt like ages later. He was still sniffling, and he rubbed at his eyes to get rid of the last of his tears, but he was finally sitting up again, this time wedged into the recliner next to Phil, one leg thrown over Phil’s.

Phil had an arm wrapped around Dan’s shoulder to keep him close. Dan could see that his eyes were red too, as if he’d been crying at some point too, but unlike Dan, he wasn’t sniffling or trying to wipe away the last dredges of his pain. Instead, he just looked determined.

Taking Dan’s chin in his hand, Phil pulled him in close and whispered, “We’ll figure it out,” and kissed him gently on the lips.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phanfictioncatalogue #phandom #phan

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postedbygaslight · 6 years

Text

You’ll Be the One to Turn - Part 42: The Spark That Lights the Fire

...

It was always up to him in the end. Always his responsibility, with so much riding on his performance, and there was never a breath of recognition. No one ever really appreciates the droid.

The X-Wing was hurtling through space, careening around the outer edge of an enormous crystalline lens at approximately 72 MGLT/hour, and if not for the complicated sequence of cabin pressure protocols that were currently active, BB-8 was quite sure Poe’s blood would have boiled, or his organs liquefied, long before this. The mission, as the BB-unit astromech droid understood it, was to reverse the ion polarity of a piece of translucent kyber-based selenide with a mass greater than that of entire starships, and to do it in less than half an hour.

Like usual, practically impossible.

Poe had been clear. More ionization per burst. Never mind that the aperture was only designed to handle a sheath of negative ions with a preset thickness. Never mind that overcharging the plasma bolts could instigate a feedback loop that could cause electrical failure throughout the entire flight control system. All that was fine. BB-8 was used to trying to do the impractical, the inadvisable, and the ludicrous. Now he just had a belligerent CPU to convince.

“Poe said more ionization per burst,” BB-8 said to the CPU. He knew the X-Wing central processor to be a reasonable sort, but fickle, sensitive, and not very receptive to criticism.

“Who cares what Poe said?” the CPU offered, sounding annoyed and anxious.

“He’s the pilot.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, he’s the boss.”

“No one’s the boss of me.”

“I’m sure,” BB-8 said, trying to project some measure of magnanimity. “Why won’t you overcharge the ion sheath?”

“Because it’s exceptionally dangerous.”

“Besides that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s stupid? It’s reckless? It serves no logical purpose?”

“It’s for the mission,” BB-8 replied flatly.

“Well,” the CPU responded with no small dose of venom, “that changes everything. Let me just alert the laws of physics to this shocking development.”

“No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

“That was cruel,” the CPU said, now projecting genuine hurt.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“What, the ionization? Hah!”

“You think I can’t?”

“Yes,” the CPU scoffed, “I think you can’t.”

“Bye,” BB-8 said, and started to withdraw subroutine access.

For a few processor cycles, BB-8 actually thought the CPU might call his bluff, and he really would have to overcharge the ionization himself. But as he initiated withdrawal of the subroutine that would facilitate more efficient translation between galactic common and Huttese, the CPU’s primary collaboration channel lit up with thousands of lines of code, communicating an elaborate collision of idiosyncrasies so contradictory and fraught with emotion that it actually startled him.

“Wait! Don’t go!”

BB-8 halted the subroutine withdrawal and waited a full processor cycle before responding.

“I guess I could stay.”

“This is humiliating.”

“Don’t look at it that way,” BB-8 replied as he began reauthorizing subroutine access. “All we need is, say, thirty percent increase?”

“Thirty percent?”

“If you don’t think you can do it—“

The CPU virtually screamed at BB-8.

“NO! Of course I can do it.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Oh really? Watch.”

And BB-8 did watch as the CPU realigned the electrical system to disable safety protocols and erect new ones, constructing an entirely new sequestered ionization routine isolated to the cannon barrel. Power was rerouted from hyperdrive functions, which were idle anyway, and partially from S-foil stabilization— which BB-8 knew would be a problem. But that was for him to worry about. Another emergency issue waiting to be addressed. As usual.

Once the CPU was done reconciling the new sequence with the retrofitted barrel aperture, it cheerfully reported that it had succeeded in increasing the negative polarity of the ion sheath by forty-seven percent.

“That was seriously impressive,” BB-8 chirped, and probably meant it. “I’m humbled. Thank you for showing me that.”

The X-Wing CPU responded with a series of code that struck BB-8 as the most simultaneously arrogant and bashful attitude he’d ever encountered in another machine.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

***

“Forty-seven percent? Buddy, you’re one-of-a-kind,” Poe said, and could almost feel the electric crackle as he depressed the trigger. He checked the polarity readings. Fifty-eight percent. Seven minutes before the beam was projected to fire.

He did the math. Even with the increased ionization, he could fire for every second of the last seven minutes and still only hit eighty-eight percent polarity shift. And although Rose had doubted he understood what that meant, Poe knew the reading wasn’t an absolute. He knew that the target percentage was a minimum polarity shift to make sure the ions in the lens didn’t decay. He needed more. And he knew how.

“BB-8, listen up, buddy. We need to get more coverage over the lens’ surface. I’m gonna tighten the approach angle. I need you to plot a course that’ll bring us to the center of the lens in the widest spiral possible over the next six and a half minutes.”

He was answered by a screech of beeps, squawks, and clicks so urgent and loud he almost felt the need to rip off his helmet.

“Yeesh, I know, but there’s no other way. Plot the course,” he said, clenching his jaw tighter, adding in almost a whisper, “You’re right about one thing, though. This does feel like suicide.”

***

It occurred to Finn that this kept happening to him. The world hazily snapping back into focus. Senses raw, a scratchy ache radiating out from his eye sockets. Waking up amidst smoke and wreckage. He sat up, groping for the bowcaster, and found it a few feet from where he’d landed.

The last thing he remembered was taking aim at the bounty hunter to fire a second shot. As he’d pulled the trigger, he knew he’d scored another direct hit, but somehow the bolt had ricocheted straight back at him. He’d been extremely lucky that it had hit the ground in front of him. Otherwise he’d be waking up missing limbs. Or, more likely, he wouldn’t have woken up at all.

When the hunter’s droids had come smashing down on top of them, he and the other soldiers had been ready to fire. Finn had gotten a shot off, hitting a descending droid that was coming for Rey, and he was shocked when it exploded in midair on impact. And that’s when everything had gone to Hell.

What he remembered of the next few minutes after the droids self-destructed was panic and chaos. He’d only barely been able to fumble with his rebreather before the gas cloud hit, and the hunter had been on them immediately. He’d almost engaged the masked killer then and there, but he’d seen Rose on the ground. She’d taken shrapnel to the arm, and her rebreather was shredded. Without a second thought, he ripped his own rebreather off his face and gave it to her, doing his best to hold his breath as the cloud choked in around them. She’d tried to pass it back to him, but he’d refused, and instead went to look for survivors as the hunter had disengaged with them and sped on down the corridor.

Chewie had been hit, too, and had been unconscious by the turbolift doors. Finn remembered grabbing the bowcaster from next to the gigantic Wookiee’s motionless form, and the gas cloud suddenly dissipating. And the next second, hearing the clash of lightsabers behind him, he’d been off running, firing at the hunter.

And now he was awake. Awake and alive. He staggered to his feet, trying to get his bearings.

“Finn?” Rose shouted. He turned around to see her holding her arm gingerly, skirting around some droid wreckage to avoid the fire.

“Rose! Are you all right?” he said, rushing to join her.

“I— I think so. Where’s Rey? And Ben?”

“I don’t know. Further down. By the blast doors on the other end, I think.”

He could see she was already looking that way. Finn turned, squinting through the smoke, and saw Rey standing outside the focusing chamber. Ben was already inside. Finn suddenly remembered the way Ben had asked him to keep Rey from sacrificing herself. And he knew what was about to happen.

Apparently, so did Rose, because she started off running down the corridor, and Finn ran to catch up, watching as the blast doors slammed shut with Rey still outside.

***

It was insanity. Pure insanity.

Poe had asked BB-8 to plot a course for a tightening spiral, without sacrificing speed, without rerouting power back to flight stabilization, and while keeping the pilot from passing out or dying from the extreme g-forces as the curve of the spiral became more severe.

BB-8 knew time was of the essence, so he got right to it. He made sure the S-foils were secured in locked position, did the last calculations for the spiral approach, and accessed the power conservation system. Poe would need all the power that could be spared for stabilization. But none of the other systems could spare any power. And once the flight stabilizers started drawing more from the nonexistent reserves, systems would start failing one by one.

The math didn’t work. No matter how he figured it. So he did the only thing he could do. BB-8 set all protocols to automatic, activated the retraction mechanism and sank into the X-Wing’s interior. He exposed his power core, attached it to the main reactor conduit, and quietly wished Poe good luck as he reversed his own power supply flow and went offline.

***

Rose hadn’t had time to really look around at the massive room they’d been in for the last twenty minutes. Which was understandable since they’d all almost died. But now, even as she was running as fast as she could toward the focusing chamber, she could see its purpose. The focusing chamber was just to house the beam and keep it contained. This larger chamber was a coolant assembly, and existed almost exclusively to keep the geothermal heat from melting the components that kept everything running. And she almost laughed as she reflected that three days ago her most pressing concern was keeping wire casings from melting in extreme heat. Now here she was in an enormous military installation on a planet she’d only ever heard about, and they were all possibly five minutes away from being vaporized in a plasma explosion of cosmic proportions.

“Ben!” Rey shouted toward the blast doors as they slid shut. Rose slowed to a stop, trying to catch her breath. Rey looked shaken and panicked. “What is he do— Ben!”

“Why’d he do that?” Finn said, panting as he caught up.

Rose looked around again, and suddenly the entire cylinder in which they were standing made even more sense to her.

“Because he can’t keep the beam stable,” she said, much quieter than she’d intended.

“What?” Rey asked, turning toward her.

“It’s what I was trying to say earlier,” Rose said, gesturing with her uninjured arm toward the outer walls. “Look at this outer chamber. Think about how his lightsaber works.”

“I don’t get it,” Finn said.

“He’s got a cracked crystal in his lightsaber. When he ignites it, it produces an unstable field,” Rose explained to him. “It needs to vent plasma out the sides to relieve the heat and pressure so the field doesn’t discharge. So, he can make the beam fire, but—“

Rey’s face went pale and she finished Rose’s sentence.

“The pressure will have to release. And flood the focusing chamber with plasma.”

“He knew all along,” Rose said, the realization of it hitting her harder than she thought it could. And Rey’s expression had taken on such a note of hurt and denial that Rose swore she could physically feel the pain her friend was experiencing.

“No,” Rey said, shaking.

“Rey,” Finn said gently, “he— he made his choice. He wanted to—“

“No.”

“Rey. Please. He told me— look,” Finn continued, gesturing toward the doors, “even if the bulkhead wasn’t buckled, the weapon’s entered final sequence. The doors won’t open. He knew what he was doing.”

Rose felt a sudden anger surge up inside her, and walked up to Finn, shoving him with both hands.

“Like you knew what you were doing? On Taris?”

“Hey,” Finn said, stumbling to regain balance, “that’s not— I mean, it’s not really the same thing.”

“Oh,” Rose replied, snatching the bowcaster out of his hands. “Good to know.”

She turned around, facing the pipes and cables leading up to the focusing chamber, winced as she leveled the weapon’s stock against her shoulder, and fired a bolt. A cluster of pipes exploded, and coolant went shooting out in a high pressure blast.

“Rey,” she called over her shoulder, “work on straightening that bulkhead.”

“What are you doing?” Finn yelled over the deafening hiss coming from the broken pipes.

“The right thing,” Rose said, firing into more pipes on the other side.

“Have you gone crazy?” Finn hurried to catch her as she advanced, firing bolt after bolt.

When he caught up to her, she spun around, the bowcaster pointed at him. He stopped immediately, instinctively holding up his hands. She almost laughed at that, but her blood was up, and she glared at him as she shoved the weapon back into his hands.

“The coolant lines,” she explained. “Now that they’re severed the blast doors have to come open to vent the heat.”

Finn gave her a look of genuine amazement, and she walked past him to where Rey was standing, her hand stretched up toward the bulkhead. The sturdy frame was straightening out with a series of groans and snaps. Rose could see the strain it was putting on Rey, and her teeth were grit hard, her eyes burning with urgent determination.

The coolant pipes continued to hiss and spew their contents into the air, and, just as Rose expected, the emergency clamps extended, gouged into the blast doors’ black metal surface, and wrenched them open halfway. A wave of heat hit them, and they were immediately washed over with wildly fluctuating reddish light.

“Rose,” Rey said, hugging her, “I really do love you.”

Rose smiled as Finn came up beside them, and she pushed Rey away, pointing into the chamber.

“Go.”

And Rey went. Finn and Rose stood in the doorway, watching. As Rey ran into the chamber, Rose slipped her arm around Finn and hugged him tight, unsure if they were all about to die.

***

Poe knew he should be blacking out at this point. There were already popping sparks of purples and greens tugging at the corners of his vision as the blood in his head hammered against his skin, trying desperately to slosh out of his body with each tightening turn of the spiral.

The readout display was fuzzy, but he could still make out the important details. Fifty-five seconds. Ninety-six percent.

He pushed the trigger as fast and as insistently as he knew he could manage while still firing. His eyes were watering. His ears were ringing. His lips and cheeks were going numb.

Forty seconds. Ninety-seven percent.

“Come on! COME ON!” he growled, straining through grit teeth.

Thirty seconds. Ninety-eight percent.

The spiral was tightening to the center. The X-Wing was almost spinning in place. Poe was having trouble breathing.

Fifteen seconds. Ninety-nine percent.

He could just barely make out a bright flash above him as the world started hazing into black and red. He kept firing. He kept his hand on the rudder. He could feel his gag reflex spasming the back of his throat.

The display blinked solid white and an alarm sounded. One hundred percent.

Poe slammed the rudder out of the spiral and pulled up hard, blasting the microboosters, the force of the sudden climb so severe the cannon barrels on the ends of the S-foils snapped. As Poe’s X-Wing came screaming out of the lens housing, a beam of pure and brilliant white blasted up toward the lens from the planet. A huge beam that burned as brightly as a star shot out the other side, streaking away into the dark of space.

For a second, Poe thought it might not have worked, but then, as he sped away as fast as the engines would allow, the giant beam snapped back, smashing into the emitter station. The glittering sphere ignited, blowing apart in a spray of white-hot plasma, vaporizing everything around it.

Poe let out a wild yell, and heard the celebration over the comm. They’d done it. It was over. And somewhere on the planet below, Poe thought, still unable to fully appreciate the events of the past few days, Leia Organa’s son was a hero.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #star wars fic #finn #rose tico #finnrose #bb-8 #poe dameron #rey #rey of jakku #ben solo #kylo ren #kylo x rey #kyber crystals #x-wing #chewbacca

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askdarus · 6 years

Text

Cutscene: Post-9x02

Story update, character development, a new character, oh my!

“How do you do it?” Paul asked softly. His head was pounding, mostly because Richie was up screaming most of the night.

“You mean Gracie?” Aaron asked, looking at his daughter, who was napping in his arms, “Paul, I have one...you have two kids. I can’t really-” he winced when Meredith ran through screaming with Richie running after her, “I can’t really give you advice there.”

“But you’re doing it alone,” Paul said quickly, not even phased by the screaming at this point, “Just...how?”

Aaron looked up at him, shocked, “You want to do it alone?”

“No,” Paul mumbled, “I don’t...want to. I love Daryl, you know that. But lately…” he swallowed, “Aaron, Richie doesn’t even want to speak with him on the rare occasion he’s home. I thought with Carol taking over the Sanctuary that things would be better, but they aren’t. He just turned into Maggie’s lacky instead of Rick’s,” he said quickly and sniffled, “I respect Maggie’s decision, hell...I would have done the same thing,” he swallowed, “But why...why’s it always my husband that does the dirty work, huh?” he demanded, “Why’s it always my family that gets bit in the ass?”

Aaron pursed his lips but didn’t say anything, just looked down at Gracie, who was napping in his arms, “Hey, I bet we could start getting a daycare going here. There’s a school, at the Kingdom, yeah...but nothing for the younger ones,” he looked up at him, “I’m sure we could find someone interested in teaching...and it would do you good not to be in the house all the time.”

“Alex says I’m getting paler,” Paul snorted, rolling his eyes.

“And how is Alex?” Aaron asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Paul pursed his lips, looking out the window, “He’s…” he trailed off and shook his head, “He’s certainly...looking at me,” he snorted, “Don’t tell Daryl...I’ll never hear the end of it if he knows he was right about him still…” he shook his head again and winced when Meredith let out a particularly loud screech, “Mer, quiet down a little,” he called, standing up and looking through the cabinets, “Daddy has a headache.”

“Need me to get you something from Harlan? I can run over to the trailer,” Aaron told him.

Paul shook his head and held up a bottle, “He already got to me,” he laughed, leaning on the counter, “Somehow he noticed I had one...despite looking after about four communities.”

“At least he has Siddiq...and Alex, I guess,” Aaron smirked.

“It’s never good to have Alex,” Paul snorted, “The good doctors probably need these more than I do with him around.”

Aaron walked up and clasped his shoulder, “I’ll ask around about getting a daycare set up,” he said, “Hang in there.”

Paul smiled at him weakly, “Thanks, Aaron,” he said, watching as he walked out. He popped the tylenol Harlan had given him and put the bottle away before looking up at the clock on the wall.

Noon.

Paul sighed, walking down the hallway towards the other bedroom, “Vi, c’mon, you can’t be sleeping this late, they’re going to start calling you lazy,” he said, knocking on the door for a moment.

Silence.

Paul sighed again, “Vi-” he opened the door and froze.

There, was his little sister, in bed with someone else from Hilltop.

It wasn’t the first time he’d sadly walked in on her...Violette had walked in on him several times as well. During the few months their parents gave them to spend together in the summer, the two always got into trouble...it was just who they were.

Hell, you leave two people in their teens in a beach house for months, there was bound to be trouble.

“VIOLETTE!” Paul snapped.

“What?” his sister groaned, burying her face in the pillow.

“It’s noon and you’re naked with…” he trailed off, gesturing to the woman beside her.

“Lily,” Violette said, “Who just got back last night, Paul.”

Paul felt his anger dissipate immediately and he grinned, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Well, you’re still just as high strung as she described,” Lily said, turning to him despite not having anything to cover her chest and nothing on.

Paul immediately put his hand over his eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

“Yup,” Violette said, tossing her a shirt with a grin.

Paul rolled over in bed at three in the morning, wincing as he grabbed his phone.

He really didn’t need his father waking up, especially from a noise. It would immediately turn into lockdown mode and he didn’t feel like dealing with sitting in the basement until morning when his father deemed it safe.

“Hello?” Paul asked, his voice scratchy.

“Paulie?” Violette whispered on the other line, “Hey, little brother, how’s it going?”

From the time Paul was adopted, Violette was determined that she was the older sibling, despite being younger. Paul was adopted after Violette was born, so she was determined that she was the older one here.

Violette was twenty one now and Paul was twenty four. Violette was living in New York with a job at an upcoming fashion industry, three hours behind him, since he was still living with their father in California.

“What’s goin’ on, Vi? It’s three in the morning,” Paul said, rubbing his eyes.

“I met...the most amazing girl,” Violette said, giggling drunkly, “Her name is Lily Marie Teller...fuck, Paulie, you’re gonna love her.”

Paul rolled his eyes, sure this wasn’t going to go anywhere. He’d dealt with plenty of calls like this from his sister before.

But it did go somewhere...it went to Violette bringing Lily to their annual summer trip, to meeting their dad, to bringing her all their family holidays…

“Welcome back,” Paul said, still looking up, “How’d you find this place?”

“Saw some of the signs in Ohio. I was with a small community, nothing big...” Lily said, pulling her shirt on, “Figured...if the Rovias were anywhere, they’d be in a big place like this,” she smirked, “The two of you were always so preppy, I figured you’d have to have a place with a mansion.”

Paul rolled his eyes, “Well...I’ll introduce you to my husband when he shows up. Have you met the kids?”

“Not yet,” Lily grinned, “But I’d love to.”

Then, it hit Paul.

Lily.

Lily was a pre-school teacher.

Finally, things would start going his way, especially with Aaron looking to start a daycare.

“Well, lunch will be soon, you can meet them then,” Paul said, turning around with his hand still over his eyes.

He ran right into the wall, making the two burst out laughing.

“So...when’s that husband of yours coming home?” Lily asked that night, “Starting to think he’s made up.”

“Funny,” Paul snorted, crossing his arms as the kids watched and old VHS tape, “He comes around eventually,” he said.

Paul watched as Violette gave Lily a little shake of her head, a silent don’t bring it up.

Someone knocked on the door.

Paul sighed and got up, almost tripping over one of Snowball’s four children in the process. He was pretty sure it was Buttercup that was under his feet.

He swung open the door and Alex stood there. Paul sighed and stepped outside, “What, Alex?” he demanded immediately, leaving the door slightly cracked behind him.

Alex handed him a paper.

Paul sighed and took it, “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded.

They stood there in silence.

“Are you going to read it?” Alex asked.

Paul sighed and opened it, reading down the page quickly.

Dear Paul,

I know this is kind of weird...a letter. It’s the same way that we called things off...but I’m also hoping it can be a new beginning for us too.

It’s no secret around here and probably outside of the community that you have been having issues with Daryl...hell, you’re not the only one. But after tonight, after what I’ve heard, I’m saying this as your friend as well as the person who is still very much in love with you, that I fear he’s dangerous.

That being said, we don’t have to tell anyone if you’d ever want to

Paul stopped reading and shoved the letter into his arms, “Okay...first of all...no. Just...no. We’re not,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “We’re not getting back together, Alex. Are you completely insane?” he demanded, “I have two kids...just…” he shook his head, “Second, what did you hear?”

“You haven’t heard?” Alex asked, “Harlan and Siddiq are getting ready to leave now. Aaron’s arm was amputated at the sight of the bridge construction. Apparently the Saviors dropped a bunch of logs on it and Daryl lost his shit, beat the guy with a pan or something,” he snorted, rubbing his arm awkwardly, “Not exactly safe to be around kids.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be the judge of that,” Paul snapped, “Alex, you’re my friend. I thought we were on a good page and then you just…” he took a shaky breath, “I need to...can you leave?” he demanded before walking inside and grabbing his coat.

He looked at Violette and Lily, “Can you put them to bed when it’s time? I need to go.”

“What’s up?” Lily asked immediately.

“Family emergency...stay with them,” Paul said before dashing out the door. He pulled his beanie down over his head and waved down the car that Harlan and Siddiq were in just before it headed out of the gate, “I’m going with,” he called, getting in the car.

Paul rushed into camp, following quickly behind Harlan and Siddiq as they rushed to the medical tent. He looked around and caught eyes with Rick for a moment before trying to hurry after them before he caught up.

“Jesus, wait a minute,” Rick called.

Paul sighed and turned around, “Yes?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Look,” Rick cleared his throat, “I know me and Daryl haven’t been on...the best of terms lately. But I wanted you to know...you ain’t alone in this. We’re a family, you included. Okay?”

Paul nodded, not saying anything.

“What are you doin’ here?” a shocked voice asked.

Paul turned around and saw Daryl. He quickly pulled him into a hug.

Daryl hugged him back, “Sorry,” he mumbled against his shoulder, “Was tryna get back, but this happened a-and I…” he took a shaky breath, “Couldn’t leave ‘im, Paul, you gotta understand.”

“I know, I know,” Paul said, carding his fingers through his hair, “C’mon, let’s go inside and see what the docs say,” he said.

And the two went inside to check on their friend.

#cutscene #cutscenes

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