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alkaysani · 8 months
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the times henry took action and that time alex did
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911verse · 7 months
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I'm not stuck, tia.
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911women · 7 months
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Is that my favourite girl?
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guillermosfamiliar · 8 months
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guillermosfamiliar + favorite bi characters
Alexander Claremont-Diaz - Red, White, & Royal Blue Eleanor Shellstrop - The Good Place Nick Nelson - Heartstopper Eve Polastri - Killing Eve Villanelle - Killing Eve Clara Oswald - Doctor Who Jesper Fahey - Shadow & Bone / Six of Crows Nina Zenik -Shadow & Bone / Six of Crows
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Here's how Power Placement is gonna work. You will step up here and show me your power. And, yes, you will do so in front of the entire class. I will then determine where you will be assigned. Hero or sidekick.
Sky High (2005) dir. Mike Mitchell
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alpacaseoks · 9 months
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laviejaguardia · 10 months
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Technical Support - read on ao3
NOW COMPLETE
Joe/Nicky. F1 AU. Rated M. 96k words.
Formula 1 driver Yusuf "Joe" Kaysani has just signed with Old Guard Racing, under the management of Team Principal Andromache Scythian. Like in any new partnership, there's edges to file down to fit and roles to coordinate so it all goes smoothly. In between those questions is the matter of who will be his new race engineer and run comms for him during races. It's a big ask that needs a delicate balance, it can't be just anyone. Engineer Nicolò di Genova has been working at Old Guard Racing for a few years, putting his analytical mind to good use filing down milliseconds off their lap times. He's been content with his work behind the scenes, only briefly stepping into the spotlight when the occasion called for it. Despite the sport's unpredictability, it's been good steady work, surely this new partnership won't change things much for him. Or: Joe runs his mouth when high on adrenaline, Nicky's voice is soothing, and a lot of things can happen in a single F1 season.
Hope you enjoy this labor of love, try to drop a kudos or a comment if you do, they're the blood and bone of fandom :)
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one of my fave quotes (˶◕‿◕˶✿)
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bookersebastien · 2 years
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you ever imagine that the first thing booker did was visit his sons graves. theyre maybe grown over a bit, tombstones long worn down with only the faintest impressions of words left on them tucked in the corner of an old cemetery. you ever think that the entire time there he held off from drinking, to talk to them clear minded. and talk to them he did, he sobbed on the grass telling them he missed them and that he was truly sorry for what happened. maybe if he hadnt gotten caught maybe he would've still been there for them. he tells them how he failed again, how he managed to be so lucky to find a new family is so beyond him but he messed up and theyve left him too and by the time he sees them again, one of them will be long gone. he tells them stories about their missions, the one in greece on that fisherman's boat, the time in egypt he and joe got trampled by a camel, the time they accidentally ended up with 50 rescued animals at their safehouse. he thought jean-pierre would like that one, he always loved animals. he only stopped when his voice ran hoarse and his tears would no longer come, and only then did he allow himself to leave. immortal yet he'd never felt so old in his life. and then he drank and he drank, until every drink started to taste the same and he could feel his body growing weak and tired. then he'd get up and do it again. he was alone again
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nicolodigenovas · 2 years
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Princes AU - part 5 - MALTA
(read part one; read part four)
[ Nicky ]
Lu is walking down the hallway when she hears the music. Around her, the white glow of the early morning comes through the large windows, caresses the paintings, lights up the wood of the frames, decorated with golden leaf. She never liked the idea that everything around her has been the same for centuries, that her father and aunt walked these corridors at her age just to find them exactly like she does now. She isn’t like Nicky: she rarely likes traditions, she accepts them only when she is sure she is the one holding the reins, not the opposite. Traditions make for strong bounds.
The large rooms some days feel suffocating. Right now, she misses the times when Nicky and her would walk the halls together, chatting and laughing, making the palace —house— theirs. She knows that without each other, they would have grown up terribly lonely, even if they had the warm presence of their mother and the gruff, sporadic affection of their father. 
She misses a specific feeling that now comes rarely, but comforted her many times when she was little. She used to run with Nicky down the halls, both of them laughing when someone tried to stop them from breaking precious furniture. In those moments, when Nicky and her played hide and seek and ‘strega comanda colore’, when they hid from adults in a secret room or under a dusty sofa, she felt a thrill down the spine, in her mind a thought scary and calming at the same time: One day, I will have all of this. I can keep everyone under this roof. I can keep us happy.
Growing up made her realise that walking the hallways together won’t be enough, not for Nicky, not for her. She is not even sure if she wants the crown. It’s such an empty symbol, now, devoid of real power, not that she is complaining: she studied history too much to feel proud of where she comes from.
The music comes from Nicky’s room, the door locked shut. She places her hand on the door, feels the loud music vibrating in the wood. For the first time since Nicky and her came back from the dinner at Booker’s, she’s realising something: maybe she’s not enough for Nicky. Maybe she is not enough to keep her family happy. 
‘You see, Nicky feels deeply’, Lu remembers their mother saying. It was years before, back when Nicky cried when Lu made fun of him for little things. Her mother was trying to make Lu feel bad for her actions, while Nicky was hiding in his room, the door closed –not locked, never, because Nicolò liked keeping his family close even when he was angry. Lu vividly remembers she thought her mother’s words were stupid, because everyone has feelings, it’s just the outward reaction that changes. It doesn’t hurt less if you don’t cry. Maybe it actually hurts more. 
Lu rarely cries.
Years have passed, Nicky doesn’t cry when she teases him anymore, but she still believes that there’s no such thing as feeling more deeply than someone else. Every person she has ever met had the ability to experience something similar to the pain she felt in the past, like a huge hole in her chest trying to pull her down, no matter how superficially bland they looked from the outside. Sometimes she’ll forget to be careful of what people don’t say out loud, but then she will look at Booker, who is always next to her these days, and looking at Booker’s smile and laugh she will remember. 
You don’t know what happens in people’s hearts. Everyone has feelings. You have to be kind. Maybe it’s not a coincidence that the voice saying that in her head sounds like Nicky’s.
Despite all of this, when they come back from Booker’s house and Nicky is sad, so sad he hides his tears from her, when she sees in the following days what power Yusuf Al-Kaysani holds over her brother’s happiness, her mother’s words come back to her mind.
Nicky is sad for days that turn into weeks. Lu doesn’t know what to do, but she tries to console herself:”Nicky just feels deeply.”
When she tries to open Nicky’s door, she finds it locked. 
*** 
[ Joe ]
Andy wonders briefly if she should say something. Quỳnh is at the phone with Joe, and by the way she’s talking, soft and supportive, Andy guesses that something went wrong in France. She can’t be sure if Nicky really rejected Joe or if Joe simply lost hope and gave up on his feelings, but it doesn’t really matter. She’s aware that she was sleeping peacefully in Quỳnh’s bed when the call woke them up, but she’s so tired she can’t even manage to get angry. It’s Joe, and Joe is sad. He needs them. Sometimes things are that simple.
Andy’s head is now resting on Quỳnh’s shoulder. This way she hears parts of the conversation, but then Quỳnh tells her to go back to sleep and starts running her fingers through Andy’s hair, things inevitably gets hazier. She understands that Nicky said he was in love with someone all his life. Andy thinks it sounds promising, but Joe is not stupid, if he thinks it’s not him, it’s not him. Andy’s heart grows heavy. It’s fucking sad that it’s not Joe. 
It takes Joe an hour to realise it’s 4am for them. He apologises too many times and quickly ends the call while Quỳnh is still telling him he’ll be alright.
“I am so lucky to have you,” is what Andy says when she finds Quỳnh looking at her, eyes sad. It’s incredible how much Andy knows about her, yet it doesn’t feel remotely enough. Andy knows just enough about Quỳnh to know what to say to get her to go back to sleep, the sadness in her eyes receding as soon as Andy leaves a kiss on her lips.
“I love you, too,” Quỳnh says in the dark. Andy holds her close and thinks that Joe and Nicky together would have been nice. It’s a shame it didn’t work out. If there’s anyone who deserves the happiness Andy feels when she’s with Quỳnh, it’s Joe. 
It should have been Joe. 
***
[ Nicky ]
“I won’t stand this a moment longer,” Lu’s voice is muffled behind the door, but the loud music isn’t enough to drown out the banging on the door.
“Lu, the wood,” Nicky says immediately, “It’s fragile.”
Everything is fragile in their official residence. It keeps everyone on edge, even sitting on a chair requires bravery. 
“I don’t care if it’s fragile, open the door.”
Nicky frowns. Gerard Way wails, guitars mournfully playing in the background.
“It’s not locked.”
“Oh,” Lu opens the door, brows furrowed. “It was locked last week.”
“Ma’ doesn’t know what privacy is,” Nicky mumbles, he can see Lu nodding in the corner of his eye. She plops down on the bed, looking at Nicky and his cocoon of blankets with pity and a spark of concern.
“‘Cancer’, really?” She asks, her hand hovers for a moment over his head, as if she wants to fix his hair or caress his face, but after a moment she just drops it on the soft blue duvet. 
At that moment, Gerard croons: “Know that I will never marry!”, and Nicky wants to die just a bit. To sleep. 
To die, to sleep.
Joe really likes Hamlet.
Fuck.
“At least it’s not ‘In the End’. Linkin park, a bit too much.”
Nicky looks at his sister unimpressed, then he turns around to avoid even looking at her.
“Nicky.”
“Go to Malta in my place, please.”
“Is this what it is about?” What a stupid question, of course it’s about Malta.
“Of course! I can’t see him!”
“We already confirmed your presence last week, we can’t change things last minute.”
Nicky turns back, which proves difficult because he is basically drowning in blankets. He battles with the cocoon, emerging wearing his favourite black t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, both have seen better days.
“Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Lu, you have to understand,” Nicky huffs, kicks a blanket, takes Lu’s hand in his. “I can’t see him,” he repeats.
“Yes, you can. I am not going to get you out of this.”
Nicky throws her hand in her direction. “That’s it, you’re useless. Out of my room.”
‘Mama’ starts playing, the piano part Booker learnt because Nicky introduced him to the album. Of course Booker loved it, as the emo in disguise that he is. 
“‘Out of my room’?” Lu repeats with a high-pitched voice that is everything but royal. She unroyally grabs his ankle and brings him down the bed, falling with him in the process. Lu falls on his chest and knocks the breath out of him. She grunts and hits him as if they’re 7 again. 
“You will go to Malta, Nicky. I can’t keep avoiding answering Joe’s questions because you’re holed up in Emoland.”
“Joe asked about me?” Nicky repeats pathetically. Oh, he is weak. Lu looks at him like she agrees.
“Lykon said Andy asked about you, which means Joe asked about you through her and she just asked Lykon because Lykon talks to me more than she does. Also Quỳnh sent me a gif of you with six question marks underneath.”
“The MI6 could never.” Friend groups can be so complicated. 
“Nicky, I am one of Lykon’s closest friends and look at me.” Lu sighs. “You have to... suck it up and ignore your feelings.”
Nicky pats her on the arm, still on the ground. He has very little energy these days, with the trip to Malta swiftly approaching like his own personal doom.
“Your wisdom is beyond your years.”
Lu smiles her winning smile. She finally leaves a kiss on Nicky’s cheek, which makes Nicky feel better than a moment before. He takes her hand again: it’s their kind of understated affection, preferable to hugs and kisses, which are too showy for cameras and traditions.
“Come on, I will help you pick some clothes for the trip. They talked about a scavenger hunt to make the event more interesting.”
“A what?”
***
[Joe]
Joe’s phone buzzes. It’s a voice message from Lykon.
Lykon is crying. It’s not as alarming as someone could think without knowing Lykon.
“Fuck, Joe, warn me next time? Next time I see you I’ll hug you for at least five minutes, what the fuck. This is the saddest thing I’ve ever read.” A pause. “I love it. Send me the other poems.”
Joe complies. He wrote an embarrassing number of poems after France. He keeps them hanging on a thread as if the pages need to dry, and they fill his room with white while all around everything he owns is colourful. The pages look like clouds.
He sends Lykon a photo of an untitled poem. The photo itself is beautiful, yellow light hits the paper and leaves a dark silhouette on the wall, like a confused spectacle of shadows. It’s late and he should be sleeping. 
Lykon answers with: “😔💔”
Then he adds the Zuko gif that says: ‘That’s rough, buddy’, because: “I couldn’t miss the chance to do this. You literally compared Nicky to the moon.”
Joe laughs, surprising himself in the silence of his room. It’s only fair. He is kind of ridiculous. 
That’s why he promises himself he will be perfectly mature and sensible when the time to face Nicky comes. He will be polite, the right side of friendly, tastefully detached, unmoved by the fact that they will have to spend a day in close proximity. 
He will act like the perfect heir to an entire country. 
- Malta -
“You are...” Yusuf struggles to find words, he is so frustrated that even speaking becomes difficult. All around them, trees. A clear sky doesn’t give clues about the world outside the reserve. A distant bird Joe is not able to recognise flies past them, thus proving its superiority over them. “Impossible! You are the worst.”
Nicky’s eyebrows disappear behind his beautiful brown hair, his eyes like daggers. 
“You are the worst,” how eloquent of him. “We got lost! Like I said it would happen!”
“We got lost because you don’t know how to use a map!” Joe shouts.
Nicky drops everything, compass and map and baseball hat, just so he can put his hands in his hair and pull in frustration.
“We got lost because you won’t fucking talk to me! I told you I am shit at this.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Genetics??” 
They look at each other. The sun is almost down, they are approximately two hours late. Joe wants to throttle Nicky.
“That’s it, I’m done.” He sits on the grass. He has no idea where they are. It’s getting cold and he is too proud to ask for Nicky’s jacket —which doesn’t match Nicky’s outfit, not that the other cares. They both know how that went the last time. 
Nicky stays still. 
“Oh, you meant whose fault we don’t speak,” he says after a second. Yusuf thinks it’s not fair that Nicky is cute when he’s embarrassed. “I meant that my father has the sense of direction of a drunk hamster and I take that from him.”
Yusuf smiles against his will. He is still angry, though. This day could definitely be in the top 10 of the worst moments of his life. 
“It’s your fault if we haven’t talked in months.”
Nicky flinches. His voice is deadly cold when he says: “Yes, you’re right.” 
Top five. Today is definitely in the top five.
The scavenger hunt wasn’t a bad idea. In any other occasion, Joe would appreciate the attempt at organising a different type of event than usual, not to mention the secret pleasure that comes from watching rich people and politicians being forced to embarrass themselves in the name of public relations. A scavenger hunt with Nicky also meant Joe could focus on the task at hand instead of the way the sun shone on Nicky’s hair turning the brown into gold, the way his eyes looked bluer than usual, the way his jaw looked more defined, was it even legal to grow up so well? What about the awkward kid representation that Nicky provided when they were teenagers and he was the only royal with terrible acne? (Nicky was cute even then.)
Nicky arrived at the event wearing black sunglasses and a linen red and white striped shirt-shorts combo that screamed ‘I don’t have a care in the world’. It is borderline between casual and too casual, but Nicky pulls it off surprisingly well. It is still not the stylist’s best work: Joe knows Nicky will look beet red by the end of the day, sunburnt after hours under the sun, and the burgundy red of the clothes will only complete the lobster colour palette. 
For a brief moment at the beginning of the event, after the endless photos and hand-shaking rituals, he believed he could survive that day ignoring Nicky entirely… then they assigned them to the same team. He knows it makes for good PR for everyone involved, the media is obsessed with the friendships of the young royals and there are still people believing they’re best friends after the Paris photos, but he can’t help but glare at Nicky like it’s all his fault.
Nicky simply raises one eyebrow behind the sunglasses. It’s been almost a year since they’ve last seen each other —the event was postponed to ensure the presence of most of the high profile guests— and Nicky has been busy: he has appeared at many official events, spoke publicly under his father’s name, he looks more mature, colder, sure of himself. 
He doesn’t look like someone who missed him at all. Joe suddenly doesn’t feel too guilty after he completely ignored Nicky’s birthday outside of a tweet written by his team (“Happy birthday to a dear friend, @NicoloReale! Let’s meet again soon”). 
Yeah, Nicky is not thrilled to see him. He stays silent and nods when organisers explain how the scavenger hunt will work, how they’ll be recorded for the first part to create a small video to publicise the event afterwards, what they can and cannot do when the cameras are rolling.
The short version is: Play nice. Nicky mouths the two words at him with a small smile on his face, and while Joe agrees, he finds himself not ready to give Nicky back their easy friendship. Sure, Nicky is entitled to his emotions, but ghosting him after turning him down was a shitty move. 
The anger and hurt that resurface seeing Nicky smile surprise him for their intensity. He wants to shake Nicky and maybe cry a little. So we’re friends now? he wants to say. Are we playing this game after you ignored me for months?
Jack, who handles his schedule and flies with him nine times out of ten, discreetly elbows him in the stomach.
“You can’t look at the Italian prince like you want to kill him,” he explains after Joe sends him a betrayed look. “You’re on duty.”
You’re on duty, the magic words. Joe smiles his fakest smile and wishes he could punch Nicky in the face, just to make sure the other can feel pain after all.
They get lost in the woods in less than three hours.
***
“Yusuf, I am shit at reading maps,” Nicky warns him. Joe —Yusuf, now that they don’t speak anymore—, simply grunts and keeps walking down the trail.
They solved the first four clues easily. The event aims to talk about biodiversity and the preservation of natural habitats in the island. Protected areas in Europe are smaller than in the rest of the world, and Malta’s mostly focus on birds and flowering plants. They got a few questions about trees native to Malta, then a riddle about a bird that had Yusuf chew on his bottom lip as he thought about the answer —very distracting. Now they’re at the last part of the scavenger hunt and Nicky is sure they’re going to get lost.
Joe is painfully ignoring him.
When he arrived at the island, Nicky had hoped to patch up their friendship and forget his disastrous declaration in France, but his attempts at lightening the mood were killed brutally and efficiently. After his third question met with a monosyllabic answer, Joe snapped: “We’re not being recorded now.”
“Oh,” Nicky said, dread and embarrassment and something close to genuine hurt turning his tongue into lead. “Sorry.”
But now he can’t stay silent. 
They get lost (they ditch security quite early in the process, both a blessing and a curse). They start to argue. Joe says it’s his fault if they don’t speak anymore and Nicky wants to scream.
He thinks of all the years spent pining after Joe, of all the galas and events and state dinners made brighter by Joe’s smile, and something in him breaks. Fragments of it fly everywhere cutting his skin, paper-cuts that leave him intact but not really, the blood is there, spilling one drop at a time.
He never thought his first love would end so badly. 
“You know what?” his voice cracks, but he doesn’t care. He only sees white, as it happens when he’s truly angry, truly hurt. “I never thought you’d be this way.”
Yusuf turns to look at him. Even if Nicky’s looking down on him, he feels pinned under the other’s gaze, trapped, examined and found deficient.
“Were my actions really so despicable?” Joe asks, and oh, he’s angry. His dark eyes always hide sparks, but now they barely conceal a fire burning behind them. He’s beautiful and cruel, and he’s as tall as Nicky after he quickly stands up and walks until there is very little space to separate them. As if he needs to spit his venomous words directly in Nicky’s mouth.
“Did my words deserve that type of reaction?” Nicky bites back. He confessed his crush, Jesus Christ, politics aside, it was just a crush. It was just Nicky’s heart offered to Joe like it wasn’t anything important, and it turns out it really wasn’t. It was something disgusting, to be thrown away and ignored.
“No. You’re entitled to your feelings. It’s your attitude after we last spoke that lacks the basic decency I’d expect from a friend.”
Nicky can’t help it, he takes a step back, inhales sharply. 
“My texts?” He asks incredulously. His own words echo in his head, I’ll get over you I swear, I don’t want to lose you. “Am I that pathetic?”
Joe frowns, but his mouth quickly sets into a hard line. “I didn’t read the texts. I didn’t need to, your actions after were clear enough.”
Nicky laughs in disbelief. “You didn’t even read them? And then you have the nerve to complain I didn’t text you again? After you hurt me like that?”
“You wanted me to text? Oh, you’re incredible, Nicky, you’re a real piece of work.”
Someone, he doesn’t know who first, shoves the other, and then Nicky is falling on his back. He drags Joe down with him, a childish part of him glad to see Joe’s pristine white shirt get dirty. 
Only the threat of cameras nearby stops Joe from straddling Nicky and landing a punch, he’s sure of that, and he is not much better, so ready he was to pull at Yusuf’s hair like an elementary school kid in a fight. Even when they cameras are not rolling they’re being watched. They’ll never be just Joe and Nicky, maybe that’s why when their emotions can finally be expressed, they’re too strong and all-consuming.
Joe’s hair is a mess, his eyes are blazing, and he’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. They’re both sitting up now, panting hard. There’s dirt under Nicky’s nails, the touch of the warm earth keeping him grounded. The sun is implacable and the sky is pure blue and Joe’s eyes are never leaving his, not even to see if they’re anywhere close to the finishing line.
Nicky vows: I’m ending this today. 
“I just wanted to confess and move on,” Nicky says. “Be your friend without the weight of my unsaid feelings. I thought I was too obvious, but maybe I wasn’t, because why would you ignore me for months if you already knew I liked you?”
Tears well up in his eyes. Joe’s hand is close enough it’d take just a moment to interlace their fingers and never let go. Maybe in another life.
Joe doesn’t say anything for a moment that lasts for ages. Nicky has all the words to fill that silence. Nicky, who never speaks if he can stay silent and when he says something about himself later obsesses over his words and wonders if he said too much, who actually has a lot to say, only he never had the freedom to express his thoughts freely.
“If I knew you’d react like this, ignoring me for months, making fun of my feelings, like you’re disgusted by the fact that I like you, I’d have never fallen in love with you. I don’t even want to be your friend. I want you out of my life, Yusuf. From now on, I will treasure every kilometre separating us. I can’t believe I was so blind.”
He gets up quickly, his movements ungraceful, ignoring the bruises already blooming under his skin. He can see the sea in the far distance, and he clings to that sight like a lifeline: there is a life outside of Yusuf Al-Kaysani. There is a world where he’s okay without him.
Joe grabs his wrist so quickly that he almost falls down again. 
“Let me go,” he says, refusing to look at Yusuf, who is standing again, not the perfect prince anymore, but a young man with green stains on his designer clothes. He can see Joe’s shiny shoes now opaque after hours in the woods. 
“I don’t understand.”
The earnest desolation in Joe’s voice is what makes him raise his eyes to meet Joe’s. Joe is tearing up as well. Soft Al-Kaysanis, he remembers his mother say, always going around with a silk handkerchief to dry their tears.
“You liked me?” Joe asks in one rushed breath. “I was the one you fell in love with?”
“I am not in the mood for jokes,” Nicky says. Joe is not letting go of him, no matter how much he tries to break free.
“Then why did you say you were sorry?”
The pieces slot together slowly, but perfectly. What did he say, back in France? He said: ‘I’ve been in love with one person my entire life, I’m sorry’. He was panicking and he wanted Yusuf to love him back so badly that the words had flown out of his mouth like swallows eager to announce spring.
He did say: “I’m sorry”.
“Because you will never love me back. I didn’t want to make things awkward.”
How ironic, he wants to say. His rueful smile is met with bafflement by Joe, whose brain seems to have stopped working.
“I thought you liked someone else. You said you were sorry because you knew my feelings for you and wanted to let me down gently.”
Nicky doesn’t think, he snaps. “YOU THOUGHT WHAT?”
Only Joe is capable of making him forget years of etiquette classes so quickly. He isn’t supposed to raise his voice, to express his confusion so plainly, mouth agape as if he just saw a ghost.
Yusuf looks stricken. “I thought you were turning me down.”
“That’s what I thought. I have had a crush on you for years. I was… I was in love with you.”
Joe lets go of his wrist as if he’s been burnt. “I ruined everything!” he exclaims. His hands fly to his head as if he wants to rip the hair out of his skull. “I didn’t answer your texts, fuck, I didn’t understand.”
He sounds so heartbroken. “You must have suffered so much,” he says, so softly it gets partially drowned by the wind.
It takes that sentence to make Nicky’s heart bloom again. 
“Joe,” he tries. He really tries, to speak, to apologise, to reassure Joe and also ask for reassurance: Do you mean it? Do you love me?, but the words don’t come. He has a lump in his throat, and he can’t really breathe.
He wants to say that it’s alright, Joe didn’t ruin anything, it wasn’t that bad, but the truth is that in his sheltered life, few things have hurt him so much as Joe’s supposed refusal. When the entire world will rush to hate a queer kid with as much visibility as him, the thought of Joe hating him first was unbearable. And on top of that, Joe must have suffered too: how unfair it is that Nicky hurt Joe terribly before even knowing he was in a privileged position to make him happy. 
He can’t say he’s alright, because he really isn’t, not yet. That’s why when Joe hugs him, he simply burrows his face in Joe’s neck and doesn’t say a thing, he doesn’t cry. He hugs Joe back, and he tactfully doesn’t comment on Joe crying quietly for both of them.
“I like you so much,” Joe finally says when Nicky is too overwhelmed and breaks the hug. He’s sniffling and drying his tears with a handkerchief. “I want you to know this and never doubt it again.”
The sight of Joe with a perfectly folded handkerchief appeared out of nowhere makes Nicky smile so wide his cheeks hurt, or maybe Yusuf’s words have taken permanent residence in his heart and he will always feel this happy.
“I like you, too.”
Joe smiles through the tears (a catastrophic event for Nicky’s already weakened heart). “I got that part this time.”
The thought —the revelation, really— of how dumb they are has Nicky squirm with embarrassment.
“We failed at confessing,” he states out loud. “Our job is basically to talkwell.” 
Yusuf has the decency to look a bit bashful, but he doesn’t stop smiling. 
“Can I try again, then? At confessing?”
“No, no!” Nicky says, too loud, and Joe’s eyes widen in alarm. “I wouldn’t survive,” he explains, plain and simple. “I would die. My weak heart can’t handle this.”
Joe’s always been endlessly charming, chameleonic in nature, able to change his mood from a gloomy disposition to the brightest attitude in a matter of minutes. His joy is impossible to contain, it flows in abundance and transforms his entire face. Yusuf is beaming, infuriatingly smug in front of Nicky’s obvious embarrassment. 
“Shall I compare you to Malta’s protected species? Because you are rare and very difficult to catch in your natural habitat.”
Nicky laughs, and then does something unbecoming of a prince. He doesn’t plan, or ponder the pros and cons of his choices for the sake of his country. He places his hands on Yusuf’s shoulders, looks at him straight in the eyes and says: “I am going to kiss you now.”
And then he kisses him, immediately after Joe nods. Just like that. He doesn’t plan, or worry, or act for the cameras.
Only for a moment, they’re only Joe and Nicky, emotionally constipated young men who apparently really like each other but must work on their communication skills.
Nicky’s first love loves him back. The smile on Yusuf’s face as they kiss tells Nicky that that’s really all that matters to start doing something real and beautiful about it. 
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alkaysani · 9 months
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#main character energy - 3.04 - GWAINE
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911verse · 1 year
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EVAN BUCKLEY - 9-1-1 - 6X08
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911women · 2 years
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ATHENA AND MAY - 9-1-1: Let The Games Begin
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colins-bridgerton · 2 years
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kate’s 25 day female meme
day 16 a mother character 
barbra whitmore-dugan stargirl 
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ajcrowleys · 2 years
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your gifs look so good, like damn, the talent
thank you so much, kayla! i'm blushing, a compliment from an icon queen who also makes pretty gifs!
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rafael-silva · 2 years
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happy birthday!!!!!!
kayla! thank you so much!! ❤️
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