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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Simple Melancholy pt. 2 ❣ Kelce ❣

for my full masterlist and the first part, click here! If you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or any of my other works, just let me know!

word count - 4.4k warnings - Brief mentions of past abuse, underage drinking, swearing synopsis - Jemma “Little J” Maybank finds herself a little over her head when she accidentally falls for a boy from Figure Eight. Between her overly protective brother and Kelce’s incredibly rude friends, neither of them are sure how they’re going to make it, but they’re determined to. tagging - @diverrdown, @yourlocalauthor, @outrebanx, @starkeystyles, @simonsbluee, @parkerpetertingle, a/n - I’m sorry it took me so long to update this, but I hope you enjoy this part! I love you all. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay the grooviest.

The water beat against Jemma, her surfboard flying over her head. She tried to push herself to the surface, but another wave crashed into her before she could. The force of the water pushed her into the hard sand, but the pain didn’t register. All Jemma could think about was getting a breath of air.

It wasn’t until the waves pushed her onto the shore that she could finally breathe. Coughing up water and gasping for air, Jemma crawled away from the water.

“That was a nasty wipeout, Little J!” John B said, laughing as he and the others ran over to her.

“Jemma, are you okay?” JJ asked. He dropped to the sand and put a hand on her back as he brushed wet and matted hair out of her face. Nodding, Jemma coughed again. “Come on.”

JJ ducked under her arm and helped her to her feet, moving her farther away from the water. John B, Kie, and Pope followed, dropping their surfboards into the sand. JJ lowered his sister back onto the ground as she continued to suck in deep breaths.

“That...was...sick,” she said, gasping with each word. And then she smiled up at her brother. He shook his head, wrapped his arm around her neck, and tugged her in for a side hug.

“It was pretty cool,” JJ said with a grin. “That’s going in the pogue hall of fails, Little J.”

“Anyone get a picture?” She teased. Kie and Pope, who were still standing with worried looks on their faces, glanced between each other. John B walked over to the cooler they had brought for surfing day and pulled out a beer bottle. When he came back, he handed it off to Jemma and JJ didn’t even protest.

Once she could breathe steadily enough, Jemma popped open the beer and took a short drink. John B sat down beside her with a beer of his own. He grinned at Jemma and JJ narrowed his eyes slowly.

“Don’t be looking at my sister like that,” JJ said. Jemma and John B looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Get your head out of your ass, bubba,” John B said, taking another sip. JJ looked like he was about to beat his friend into the sand, but Jemma reached out and put a hand over her brother’s.

“Would you chill?” She asked him, a twinge of irritation in her voice. JJ huffed and dropped his hands into the sand. Jemma shook her head and took another swig of beer. She wouldn’t lie and say she would be mad if John B looked at her the way her brother always accused him of. She’d practically grown up with him, been there for him through some of his worst moments and he had been there for her in hers. Thinking about macking her brother’s best friend wasn’t the worst crime Jemma had ever committed. It was, however, the only crime that would probably get her killed.

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, Jemma pushed herself onto her feet, teetering ever so slightly as she did so. She felt lightheaded, her vision going dark for a second.

“Where are you going?” Kie asked, putting a hand out to steady her friend.

“Gotta go get my board,” Jemma replied.

“I’ll come.” John B started to push himself upward, but not before JJ tackled him back to the sand.

“No way in hell!” His words seemed harsh, but there was a laugh in his voice. Jemma scoffed and rolled her eyes as the boys rolled around, kicking up sand.

“Dude!” Kie protested, trying to jump out of the way of their flailing legs.

“I’ll come with you,” Pope said but Jemma shook her head.

“I don’t need an escort,” she told him with a laugh.

“I’ll come anyway.”

Jemma shrugged and took another sip of beer. If she had felt more attached to her personal items, Jemma might have been upset that her board wasn’t currently on her person. But she had gotten used to disappointment. Losing it would just be losing another thing. From her experience, nothing stayed long, why would a surfboard?

But, losing it would be a potential reason for her dad to get angry. Jemma’s first reaction to her dad being angry with her for losing her board was fear, but the second was bitterness. Let him hate her, let him hit her, let him throw everything he had at her. She could take it.

“Are you even looking?” Pope asked as Jemma stared existentially out into the ocean.

“Huh?” She turned to look at him and he raised his eyebrows. “Right.”

Taking a long drink of beer, she narrowed her eyes and scanned the surface of the water. Waves still crashed against the shore, but there was no sign of her sunset orange board.

“JJ said you got a tutoring gig,” Pope said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Jemma felt herself grimace.

“Yup.” She took a drink.

“Didn’t go well?”

“No, it went perfectly fine. Guy’s a dickhead though.”

“I’m sorry, Little J.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Jemma smiled behind a sip. “At least I’m making money.”

Jemma wasn’t sure why she was so quick to call Kelce a dickhead. He really hadn’t been that terrible any of the times she had come over. After their first mini fight, it seemed like everything became less tense. She helped him write his essays and study for his tests and he didn’t complain nearly as much as JJ did. He tried to ask her questions about her personal life, but she avoided them at all costs. There was no reason for him to get to know her. They weren’t friends. They were supposed to hate each other.

But Jemma couldn’t help but feel like he tried so hard to get to know her because he wanted a real connection with someone that wasn’t just it in for his money. Then again, maybe she was just projecting. Truth be told, he was actually really sweet. And funny. And adorable. And-

“There!” Pope put one hand on her shoulder and pointed with his other.

“Where?”

“There, dumbass!”

Then she saw it, floating by itself just beyond the crashing waves. A smile spread across Jemma’s face. She shoved her beer bottle into Pope’s hands and started for the water.

“Little J, wait!” His attempts to hold her back failed, but his shouting got JJ’s attention.

Jemma dove underneath the first wave she came in contact with. All of her senses came to life. When she was away from the water, it always felt like there was a part of her that was dead, or at least not alive. Even when the ocean tried its hardest to kill her, she always found herself yearning to be right back in it to feel that last bit of life she so deeply desired.

Which was why, even though she had yet to completely catch her breath after her beat down, she didn’t hesitate to dive in headfirst.

“Jemma!” She heard JJ yell over the thundering waves, but she wouldn’t listen. Even after her feet could no longer touch the ground below, Jemma didn’t slow. She maneuvered through the waves until she reached her board.

“Reunited,” she whispered, breathless, a gleeful smile on her face. Before she clambered on top of it, she pressed a kiss against the deck. She rode the waves back to shore, her smile never once fading. But JJ was fired up all over again which was almost enough to put her back in a sour mood as she ran over with the surfboard under her arm.

“You almost died and you just run back into the water like a maniac?” He asked. Jemma shrugged.

“Had to get my board.”

“I could have gotten it for you.”

“I don’t need you to do everything for me. I’m not a baby, J.”

“I know you’re not, but-”

“But nothing.” Jemma tried to keep her smile. “Can I have my beer back?”

Pope, not wanting to get between Jemma and JJ, handed the beer back to her before running back to stand next to Kie. She was waiting patiently to deescalate any situation that arose, John B laughing silently to himself to the side. Not breaking eye contact with her brother, Jemma took a long drink of her beer. He narrowed his eyes but said nothing. The wind blew and a sudden, sharp pain made Jemma gasp.

Looking down, she saw a sand rash marred the skin around her hip bone. JJ’s eyes followed hers and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s what you get for being a dumbass,” he said, but then he stepped forward and took the beer can from her. “We should get this cleaned out.”

“It’s a burn, not a bullet hole,” Jemma said with a roll of her eyes.

“It looks pretty bad, Little J,” John B said, walking over to her and JJ. She looked up at met his concerned look. “We should get you home

“Okay,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Okay,” JJ mocked her voice. Jemma slapped her hand against his shoulder. “Ow! What the hell!”

“You’re a douche,” Jemma snapped. JJ sneered.

“Well, you’re stuck with me.”

“I’ll help you to the car,” John B interrupted.

“No!” Jemma and JJ both shouted at the same time.

“I can walk perfectly fine,” Jemma tried to say in a calmer voice, offering John B an apologetic smile.

“You’re not touching my sister with a ten foot pole,” JJ warned, pointing a finger at his best friend.

“Would you knock it off?” Jemma shoved her brother back. JJ was about to retaliate when Pope and Kie stepped in.

“Alright, you two,” Kie said, putting her hands on Jemma’s shoulders and pulling her backward. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for Jemma and JJ to fight, in fact, it happened almost every time they hung out with the Pogues. It was just life with the Maybank twins.

By the time John B’s van rattled to a stop at the Chateau, the argument between Jemma and JJ was completely forgotten. They were chatting back and forth about whatever dumb movie they had stolen from the abandoned Blockbuster even as the entire group clambered out of the car.

“I gotta go get this cleaned up,” Jemma said, covering her sand rash to keep the wind off of it. She wasn’t a pussy, but sand rashes hurt like a bitch.

“You got to tutor today?” JJ asked as she headed off toward the house.

“Yup. In about an hour.”

“Your nails aren’t done.”

Jemma felt herself smile. Ever since their stupid argument about nail polish, JJ had knicked a few bottles from the Kook cougars he worked for to give to her. It was an olive branch gesture, one that made Jemma smile just thinking about.

“Don’t have time for it today,” she told him. JJ shrugged his shoulders, trying to seem like he didn’t care. “But I’ll paint them tonight when I get back, yeah? That blue color was really nice.”

He perked his head up and a hint of a smile crossed his face. The others weren’t entirely sure what was going on, but they knew it to be a Maybank Moment. These moments usually followed a fight, so they weren’t really surprised.

Trotting up the porch steps and into the house, Jemma couldn’t help her smile. There was a small part of her that was giddy. Even though it was only her fifth time going over to Kelce’s to help him study, she found herself looking forward to it. Maybe it was because she could almost convince herself that she was living like Kook for three hours. Maybe it was because when Kelce looked at her, he didn’t see the damaged goods from the cut that she saw in the mirror.

After cleaning her sand rash, Jemma threw on a new outfit, something a little nicer than before that covered up the beating her body took from the ocean. Saying a quick goodbye to her friends, she took off toward Figure Eight.

She wasn’t even the least bit nervous knocking on Kelce’s door that night. It was later than she usually went over, but he had texted her the day before asking to change the times a bit. Jemma was more than happy to comply. It just meant that she could spend the rest of the day with her friends.

When he opened the front door, he was smiling. God, she loved his smile.

“Hi,” he said, leaning his hand against the door. Jemma couldn’t help the stupid grin on her face.

“Hi.”

He just watched her for a moment as she tapped her fingers against the back of her hand. Then he suddenly cleared his throat and opened the door even more.

“Come in.”

Jemma stepped inside, immediately kicking off her shoes and setting her bag on the counter.

“So, what are we studying to-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

A shout from another room in the house startled Jemma. She jumped, turning her concerned gaze toward Kelce, who grimaced.

“A few of the boys are over,” he explained slowly, tucking his hands into his pockets. Jemma raised her eyebrows as her pulse started to slow back down to normal.

“Is this why you pushed the time back?”

Kelce stepped toward her in a hurried attempt to cover for himself.

“You’ve been helping me out so much I just wanted to give you a break in return for all your help,” he said. Jemma almost laughed.

“Kelce, your parents literally pay me to be here. I don’t need you to do anything else for me,” she told him. For a brief second, there was almost something like hurt behind his eyes, as if wondering whether or not she would still come if the money stopped flowing into her bank account.

“I just want you to meet my friends.”

“I know your friends. We don’t get along.”

“It’s just a few guys. They’ll be cool, I swear!”

Jemma eyed him carefully, but she heard the desperation behind his words. She wasn’t sure what came over her that made her finally nod her head with a sigh. It didn’t matter which of Kelce’s friends were over, there was no way this was going to end well.

He gestured toward the living room and Jemma let him lead her there.

“Fuck you!” the same voice from before screamed. Jemma saw the TV and the game that was on before she saw who was watching. Clearly, the game was not going in their favor. But then she saw Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton sitting on Kelce’s couch. Fear immediately rose in her stomach at the sight of them, her eyes going wide.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She seethed, moving out of the doorway and behind a wall. With a scowl on his face, Kelce followed after her.

“Jemma, what-”

“You didn’t say your friends were Topper and Rafe,” she whispered, her chest heaving.

“I said a few guys.” Jemma shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “What’s going on?”

Jemma tried to steady her breathing before answering. She popped one eye open only to see Kelce watching her with a worried look on his face. She let out a deep sigh and pulled him farther away from the living room.

“You have to swear to never repeat to anyone what I’m about to tell you,” she said, her voice low. Kelce nodded his head.

“What happens in the house stays in the house,” he said, repeating one of Jemma’s rules. Jemma swallowed a hard lump in her throat, cringing as she tried to build up the courage to say what she was about to say.

“Okay.” She put her shaking hands up and took a deep breath in through her nose. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I’m about to tell you something that might ruin your perception of me.”

“Nothing could do that.”

Jemma ignored the way her heart spiked. She heaved out a sigh, tapping her head against the wall again. There was no easy way to say what she was about to say.

“JJ and I got into an argument once a few months back. A bad one,” she started, peering back at the entrance to the living room as if waiting for someone to walk right through. “He wouldn’t let me run off with this touron I met at a party. I was angry as hell and horny as hell and drunk as hell, so I did something I knew would royally piss him off.”

Kelce scowled, still not really understanding. Jemma was hoping that she could get him to understand without spelling it out completely, but it didn’t appear to be working.

“I found the one guy I knew would make my brother the angriest and I…” She trialed off, gesturing with her hand until Kelce got the picture. She watched him press his lips into a fine line. “Not my proudest moment, but-”

“Who was the guy?” Kelce asked, his voice as quiet as hers was. Jemma swore quietly to herself. He was really going to make her say it, wasn’t he? She bounced a few times before blurting the name out as quickly as she could.

“Rafe.”

“Oh, my god, Jemma!”

“Shh!” She hissed desperately, pressing her hand to Kelce’s mouth and turning to make sure no one heard. “I told you not to be mad!”

Kelce swatted her hand off of his mouth.

“I’m not mad...I’m just….” Kelce put a hand on his head before dropping it back to his side. Jemma grimaced at the expression on his face. “You’re a fucking minor, Jemma. And he’s-”

“I know!” Jemma wrapped her arms around her stomach. “It was a mistake.”

“A one time mistake?”

Jemma set her jaw, starting to bounce again. She got bouncy when she was nervous.

“A multiple time mistake.”

“Oh, god.”

“So, now you know why I can’t go in there, right?” She was begging him to understand, to just let her walk away. She hadn’t seen, let alone spoken to, Rafe since their last hook up a month or so ago. She wasn’t really intended on tonight being that night. Kelce turned away from her, his hands on his hips. He was reacting almost as badly as she expected JJ too. She wasn’t sure why he was so upset by it. At least, she told herself she didn’t.

“I thought you hated him,” Kelce said, turning back to look at her. Jemma chewed on her lip, holding her arms tighter.

“I hate his guts, but….” She trailed off, letting out an embarrassed breath. Her words grew quieter. “I also have a bad habit of letting him rearrange my guts.”

Kelce scoffed and Jemma grimaced. That was the worst possible way she could have said it. It seemed like every time she opened her mouth, she was just making things worse. If only she could just dig a hole and bury herself deep inside. She would rather be literally anywhere other than where she was now.

“It’s not like I actually like him, or anything.” She was still trying to defend her actions for whatever reason. She just couldn’t bear to have Kelce thinking that she was easy like everyone else did. The thought forced tears into her eyes. “It was just-”

Kelce lifted his hand and Jemma swallowed her words. His eyes were closed, pinched shut. She waited for him to explode, to scream at her, call her a whore, maybe even shove her around. It was what she expected from men. She messed up and they came for her, tooth and nail.

But Kelce never even curled his hands into fists. He waited to talk until his breathing was steady, until the confusion and anger were gone from his face. Then he opened his eyes slowly to look at her.

Jemma hadn’t realized how tense she was, waiting for an attack, until Kelce lifted his hand to rest on her shoulder and she flinched. He pulled his hand back, a concerned look on his face as he leaned away from her.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his eyebrows pinching together.

“I...I should go.” Jemma took a few steps to the side before starting for the front door.

“Jem...wait.” Kelce caught her by the wrist, his grip gentle. Still, she spun around ready for the attack that she still expected to come. Her eyes were wide, her breathing heavy. “You wanna get out of here? Go somewhere quieter?”

Jemma’s body relaxed out of surprise and she scowled.

“What?”

“I’m not mad at you, Jemma. You’re entitled to live your own life. I was just shocked is all.”

Jemma kept her scowl for a few more moments even as he dropped his hand from her wrist. She was trying to figure out what his angle was. There had to be a reason he was doing this, saying the things he was saying. There had to be a reason he was talking so softly, so gently.

Her dad used to do it a lot when she was younger. Pretend he wasn’t mad just so he could explode later. Get her crying in his arms before throwing her to the floor. Make her think she was safe and then….

She couldn’t help but wonder if Kelce was doing the same thing now. It took her a few pondering moments to decide that he wasn’t.

Stepping out of her defensive stance, she kept a small scowl on her face, just in case.

“Sure.”

At her acceptance of his offer, Kelce smiled. It wasn’t the same, wide smile as before, but he was happy to hear her response. He walked her back to the front door, sending one last look back toward his friends.

“Will they miss you?” Jemma asked as she stepped into Kelce’s car, her legs still shaking ever so slightly. Kelce shrugged and shut her door for her.

“Not likely.”

Jemma rolled down the window, hoping that the cool evening air would be enough to calm her nerves.

“So,” Kelce said, one hand resting lazily on the wheel and his other hanging out his open window. “Rafe.”

Jemma scoffed and rolled her eyes, a small, cringing smile on her lips.

“I ended it,” she said, refusing to look at him as she watched the rich people houses dash by in a blur. “It felt wrong, lying to my brother all the time.”

“I thought you did it to piss him off.”

“Yeah, I did, but I didn’t want to get Rafe murdered because I was being petty.”

To Jemma’s surprise, Kelce actually laughed. It was a nice sound, like the waves against the shore. No, something softer than that but just as powerful.

“And,” Jemma continued, though she didn’t know why. “It made me feel like...like the things people said about me were all true.”

“What things?”

It was Jemma’s turn to laugh, but hers was bitter, accompanied by a roll of her eyes.

“You know.” Kelce glanced over at her and gave his head a little shake. “That I’m easy. That I’ve got daddy issues and that means I’ll let anyone in my pants. That my dad….” She paused. “Whore, slut, homewrecker, the whole nine yards. You’re telling me that you’ve never heard anyone say that about me?”

Kelce shrugged his shoulders, but Jemma knew he was lying. She let out a heavy breath.

“Fine,” Kelce said. “I’ve heard it all. But I never believed it.”

Jemma raised her eyebrows, leaning back against her seat and looking at him as she propped a foot up onto the dashboard.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Kelce fixed his eyes on the road. “Most decent guys don’t believe it when someone says stuff like that about a girl.”

“Most decent guys wouldn’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”

Jemma’s mind went back to the beach, to John B’s offer to help her, to JJ telling him off by saying the same thing. She scrunched up her nose and looked down at her hands. Never before had any of these words ever left her mouth before, to anyone, not even her closest friends, her family. How was it that Kelce had managed to pry it out of her after only knowing her for a few weeks?

“I haven’t seen my parents in two months,” Kelce said suddenly. He didn’t tear his gaze from the road even as Jemma looked up at him. “They’ve been contacting you from somewhere in Europe.”

“Kelce, you don’t have to-”

“No, you bore your soul to me. I just want you to know that you can trust me with these things.” He looked over at her finally. “So, I’m trusting you. My parents pay so little attention to me, the only reason they know that my grades were as low as they were was because I told them.”

Jemma felt her jaw tense, her throat starting to swell.

“I’m sorry.”

Comforting people wasn’t her strong suit.

“It’s been this way all my life.” He shrugged. “Do you trust me yet?”

Jemma felt a smile pull at the edges of her lips, but she tried to hold it back.

“We’re getting there.”

“Friends?”

Jemma narrowed her eyes, pulling at her lip with her teeth as she mulled the idea over.

“Friends have nicknames for each other,” she said finally, crossing her arms. “I’ll call you Kellie.”

Kelce laughed.

“No way in hell!”

“I thought you wanted to be friends.”

“I do!” Jemma cocked an eyebrow. “Fine. You can call me Kellie. As long as I can call you Jem.”

Jemma felt her heart freeze in her chest. The only person who ever called her Jem was her mom. Jemma swore to never let anyone else call her that in case her mom ever came back and laid claim on the name once again. But her mom was gone. She was gone and she wasn’t coming back. Jemma had to realize it eventually.

“Deal.” Jemma finally let herself smile. “So, Kellie, where are you taking me?”

He gave her a mischievous grin before settling his gaze back on the road.

“I guess you’re just going to have to wait and see, Jem.”

“It better be good.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Jemma’s smile grew wider.

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shhh-no-ones-home · 4 years

Text

for the road (2/2) steve clark x reader

+++++++++

part 1 part 2

sorry this took so long, like i had mentioned in the other post, our internet cable was cut and it took a few days for it to get fixed. on top of that i had a few essay finals to finish and just didnt have time to get back to this. it is here now though and i hope you all like it!

she edited for the most part but if i missed anything, sorry, lol.

again i dont usually add songs from the artists to their own chapters but i think this one works pretty good with the story so youre getting it anyways lol

Song: stagefright by def leppard

tag list: @cynic-spirit @lifeisabitchandsoareyou

+++++++++

as soon as i turned around from locking the shop there was a taxi outside, parked on the curb with a woman leaning against it. she offered me a smile.

"are you y/n?"

she asked and i nodded.

"the band is waiting for you."

she said opening the door for me. i politely thanked her before sliding in and buckling the seat belt. the car smelled like apples, making me feel much less nervous than before. the ride to the venue was pretty silent though and i watched out the window as we passed by the tall city buildings. as the venue came into view my eyes got wide, i had never actually been to this part of town before. I looked at the venue in awe, it was much larger than the places I usually attended concerts at. the metal gates opened in front of us and she drove in, straight to the back doors. a large man in all black was waiting there with his arms held together in front of him. i was definitely back to being nervous again. he opened the door and peered down at me.

"You here for Steve?"

He asked and I nodded, pulling the ticket out of my pocket and showing it to him.

"yeah uh, he gave me this."

he looked over it before helping me out of the cab.

"Right this way."

He said, hand moving to be placed gently at my back as we walked inside the venue. I was a little unnerved at first, being alone with the man and all but marched along anyways. the halls were brightly lit as we walked, the white concrete shining against the floor tiles. i watched as roadies and crew members walked around us, gaining my attention as the man kept pushing me forward. When he reached a door at the end of the hall I smiled, seeing Steve sat against the couch's arm rest with his guitar in his hand.

"Here we are."

The man said, dropping his hand from my back and standing firmly beside the door. He never looked back at me as I stepped into the room shyly. I waved to the guys before Steve noticed me.

"Y/n!"

He said excitedly, standing and offering me a hug. I gladly took it before he escorted me to sit at the couch.

"Was the ride here alright?"

He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah, for the most part. Thanks again for inviting me. I'm excited to see you guys play!"

I said, wide smile on my face.

"I'm happy to hear that, i really hope you like it. we've been working on something new for the set."

i made an impressed face.

"sounds exciting."

then i heard one of them laugh.

"you say that like shes seen our other sets."

he had darker curly hair.

"so?"

steve said sitting a little closer to me, his arm falling behind my back to rest on the couch.

"im sav."

the man offered his hand and i shook it.

"y/n."

steve cleared his throat.

"right, thats rick savage he plays bass, my partner in crime phill collen, plays guitar, rick allen who is our man behind the kit, and of course you already met and talked to joe elliot our lead singer."

they all offered hellos around the room as steve introduced them.

"its nice to officially meet you all, i appreciate you guys coming into the shop earlier. i put the record in the window after you left and six people stopped in to buy a copy."

i joked, making steve laugh lightly.

"happy to help."

sav said. then a man with a clip board and mic around his neck stepped in looking rushed.

"alright guys its time to mic up, its almost show time."

they all nodded before leaving the room one by one to follow the man.

"hey ive gotta go but ill be back right before the show starts so you can come with us to the side of the stage okay?"

i nodded as he stood.

"okay."

he touched my shoulder lightly before walking off. i sighed to myself for a second before getting up and walking around the room. it was super neat. the painted bricks were covered in signatures from all sorts of rock stars. they were littered about in varying colors of permanent marker, some of them with small messages and dates next to them. part of me wondered how long it would take to fill before they had to paint over it or start on a new set of walls. then i heard a knock at the door, it was steve with a guitar now around his neck.

"hey, you ready for the show?"

he asked with a wide smile.

"lead the way."

i said stepping out of the room and following him back down the hallway.

"so i know this isnt exactly date material but how are you so far?"

i let out a short laugh.

"im doing great, this is all fantastic."

he seemed content with that answer as we stepped up to the side of the stage.

"im glad to hear that. if you arent busy afterward would you maybe wanna go get something to eat? before we have to head out?"

i twisted my body a little in excitement, holding my hands in front of me, smiling like an idiot.

"id love that."

he touched my arm gently.

"great!"

i leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly, making him blush.

"alright guys, showtime."

the man who had called them out earlier was back, ushering them into a line.

"ill be here when youre done."

i said, earning a nod from him. i watched as they all ran out one by one, the crowd screaming as the backtrack blared through the speakers. they all just lit up as they began playing, joe speaking into the microphone and asking how the crowd was feeling. it made be giggle, not being to contain my excitement anymore.

°°°°°°°°°

when the set was done steve was quick to get offstage and into a new set of clothes. he was all sweaty under the stage lights during the show so i could understand why. he had grabbed my hand and practically ran with me down the hall and out the back door, making me laugh. when we were in the cab i had arrived in he calmly told the woman where to take us, his arm making its way behind me to hold me around my waist. the drive to the late-night restaurant was filled with small conversation and light smiles, he really was an interesting person. when we pulled up he helped me out of the cab and walked with me on his arm inside.

"two?"

the waitress asked, him nodding and following her to a booth across the diner.

"so, what can i get you two to drink?"

she said, setting the menus down. i looked at her and smiled.

"coffee please."

she nodded and looked to steve who look at me a little curiously.

"two coffees i suppose."

he let out a short laugh before she walked away.

"its a little late for coffee dont you think?"

he asked, looking over the menu. i sent him a look.

"says the person who ordered one as well."

he laughed and shook his head.

"i guess we all have our vices huh?"

i smiled at him, looking over the menu.

"hey, ive been meaning to ask you-"

"you two ready or do you need some more time?"

i looked from steve to her.

"cheese fries please."

i said, handing her the menu as she wrote it down.

"same."

he said with a smile, handing her his menu too. she nodded before walking away.

"now, what was it that you wanted to ask?"

he folded his hands together and leaned into the table, giving me his full attention.

"well i was wondering what the rest of tonight would look like."

i laughed light heartedly.

"its not exactly like you guys are staying here. i know you said it was a date, and i really like you but i dont necessarily wanna have too much fun, ya know?"

he nodded slowly, the waitress bring us our food and us thanking her.

"ive kinda been thinking about that too. and i really like you too and would love for this to happen."

he motioned between the two of us.

"but i dont want to make you wait for me."

i laughed a little bit as i ate.

"i dont think id mind too much. waiting that is, ive been single this long its not like it would be much different."

i joked, making him smile at me as he took a drink.

"so, what? we do this? for real? keep in contact until tour is over and then what?"

i shrugged.

"we make it work."

i said matter-of-factly. he studied my face for a second.

"okay, so we're really doing this."

he said with a wide smile. i nodded.

"i guess we are."

then it hit me.

"oh, here!"

i grabbed one of the survey cards out of the napkin holder and began writing.

"heres the numbers you can reach me at. the top is my house and the bottom is the shop. if you need me ill be at either of those places."

he looked over it before folding it and stuffing it into his pocket.

"hopefully you dont get too tired of me before tour is over."

we both laughed.

"i dont think i will, if you wanna call everyday be my guest. id love to hear about the places you visit. makes my small corner of the world a little bit bigger."

he sent me a genuine, heart melting smile.

"then i will absolutely do that for you y/n."

we both finished our drinks and got up, taking the ticket to the register and him paying the waitress. we said our thanks before climbing back into the cab out front. the drive back to the venue was full of cuddles and soft touches, talking back and forth about what he would be doing and where he would be going in the next couple weeks. it all sounded so interesting and i wished i could go with him. when the cab came to a stop at the back door we both got out, his hands making their way to my waist as i leaned into the car.

"ill be looking forward to seeing you next month."

he said softly, pushing my hair out of my face.

"likewise."

i said back, looking over his face. he seemed so soft. his thumb grazed my cheek before he leaned down and kissed me gently. the moment our lips met i knew that was it. the wait would be worth it for sure. when he pulled away we both sighed as he rested his forehead against mine.

"ill for sure be looking forward to another one of those."

he joked, both of us smiling at each other like a couple of teenagers.

"well then, before we both have to go, heres one for the road."

i said before pushing forward quickly, kissing him again. it was deeper than before as he pulled me into him. i wanted to feel that forever. when the back door creaked open we both pulled away, it drawing his attention as the body guard stood there sternly.

"i guess thats my queue."

he grabbed my hands as he backed up, dropping them as he got further away. i watched him walk to the door, waving back to me before he was ushered inside. i covered my mouth for a second before bouncing up and down with excitement. i could wait a month, if that was the hardest part of this then surely i could handle it. and now i had tour adventure stories to look forward to. i smiled like an idiot as i slid back into the cab, telling her where to take me. i couldnt stop smiling the entire car ride. i couldnt wait for the month to be up.

#wattapd #x reader #steve clark #264 #imagines #one shots #def leppard #.

19 notes · View notes

cate-geo · 5 years

Text

Camp Pining Gays

(This has nothing to do with camp, or Steven Universe, or Camp Pining Hearts...but it does have something to do with gays who are pining so GOOD ENOUGH)

(Romantic Moxiety College AU with background Logince, and Platonic Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Logicality.)

(Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, some suggestive teasing. Tell me if there’s any more.)

(Tags: @ab-artist, @vigilantprotector)

Words: 3,634 (oof, I don’t usually write that much)

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

“Mr. Storm!” Virgil snapped back into reality. Damn it.

“Yeah, Prof.”

“Honestly if you’re going to listen to music during my lecture you could at least pretend to hide it. Instead of wearing obvious headphones.”

Virgil rolled his eyes “Why bother with the stress of trying not to get caught? It’s just easier to tell the truth.”

“Please, just try to pay attention.”

Virgil nodded and completely zoned out the professor the second they weren’t giving him any attention. He fucking knew he shouldn’t have gone to class today. No, wait. He had to turn in the essay. Fuck, why couldn’t he just do that electronically?

The rest of the class was so grueling. He wanted so badly to put his headphones back on, but the idea of being called out again made him want to vomit. God he just wanted to go back to bed, but leaving early would just bring attention to him. At least it was his last class of the day.

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The second the Professor started saying “Alright, I think that’s all for today.” Virgil was out the door in a flash. All earlier hopes of studying in the library were crushed by his need to hide under his blankets. He tried to convince himself that he would study in his room, but he was most likely just gonna pass out.

He walked into his apartment to find his roommate. It wasn’t that he hated Roman, but he really wanted to be alone right now. Luckily Roman seemed to notice.

“Hey bud. Tough day?”

“Yep.” Virgil plopped his bag down and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed.

“Gonna take a nap?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry. I was just about to head out. Gotta rehearse with Patton.”

Virgil immediately shot up “What?” He cleared his throat “Who?” Was he fantasizing again?

“Patton. He’s in my drama class this semester. Sweet kid.”

“He works at the library, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Roman stopped, and Virgil dreaded the gleam growing in his eyes “You know him?”

“I’ve seen him around.”

Roman leaned in close, trying to read Virgil, who was trying to be as unreadable as possible. “Do you like him?” “I don’t just get a crush on every cute guy I see like you do.”

“It doesn’t have to be every cute guy. Just one cute guy.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and hid his head under the covers “I’m napping.”

“Alright alright. I’ll do you a favor and try to get his sexual orientation.”

“Whatever.” Virgil sighed in relief when the door finally opened and closed.

Then he shot up.

“Wait no! Don’t fucking do that!” Roman was not subtle at all. God, Virgil was so glad he wasn’t actually gonna be present for that conversation. Although his imagination wasn’t much better. He groaned and shut his eyes tight. Trying to let sleep overtake him.

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

Virgil didn’t really remember falling asleep, but he must have since he was waking up now and it was dark outside. He looked around and noticed Roman wasn’t back yet. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He should probably make dinner.

He pondered whether or not he should make Roman some food too. Maybe he could poison it for the stunt Roman was trying to pull. Before he could decide though, he heard the door open.

“Heeeeey Virgil~”

“Hey Roman. How was rehea-”

Roman had the hugest shit-eating grin on his face, and coming in behind him was Patton.

Yep. Virgil was definitely gonna poison Roman’s food.

Virgil didn’t know if he should yell at Roman or try to make a good impression. Although, it wasn’t as if he was capable of speech at the moment.

“Hi. Sorry to intrude. Roman said he just needed to grab something real quick. Then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah. We were gonna get something to eat. Wanna join us?” Roman was still grinning.

God Virgil wished he had the idea to make dinner 60 seconds earlier. Then he would have an excuse. “I uh...don’t want to interrupt any rehearsing.”

“Oh, it would be good to have a test audience” Roman wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, his eyes telling him that he wasn’t getting out of this one, so he should just tag along.

“Yeah. It could really help to have a fresh set of eyes. You should come.”

Patton was asking Virgil to dinner. Ok so...it wasn’t exactly how he imagined it. But he was too lovestruck to stop himself from saying yes.

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

Despite the fear in Virgil’s chest, the dinner wasn’t so bad. The skit they were doing was cute. And it definitely helped with payback giving Roman so much constructive criticism.

Although Roman retaliated quickly. “Oh wow. Sorry. Cute guy alert. Gotta get his number. Be back in a jiff.”

Virgil tried to say ‘Don’t you fucking dare leave me’ with his eyes, but Roman was already gone.

“Wow. I could never ask for a random guy’s number.”

“Yeah. That’s Roman. Extra in absolutely everything he does.” Virgil stared at his drink “Uh...so you work at the library, right?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve seen you around.”

Virgil felt his heart beat faster. Patton noticed him. “Yeah well, it’s a good place to study.” God, why was this so awkward?

“Mhm.” Patton must be finding it awkward too “Roman mentioned you two have Disney movie nights on Saturdays. That must be so much fun.”

“Uh...yeah. When he doesn’t have a date. Which is actually pretty often despite the amount of guys he hits on. Do you want to join us this weekend?” shitshitshit. Did that just come out of his mouth? Shit.

“Wait really?”

“Sorry. That sounds creepy. You hardly know me-us...and I’m inviting you to our apartment at night and-”

“No that sounds nice actually. I just don’t want to intrude on you two.”

“It’s no intrusion. It’s mostly just Roman singing along. It’d be nice to mix things up a bit.” Mix things up a bit? Mixing things up a bit made Virgil panic. So did inviting a cute boy to his place. What the fuck did Roman do to him?

Speak of the devil, Roman sat back down with them, slapping down a piece of paper with numbers scrawled on it “Boom. That’s how you do it.”

Virgil looked down at his lap “Uh...is it cool if Patton joins us for Disney night?” He wasn’t looking at him, but he could feel Roman’s eyes get bigger

“Of course. The more the merrier. We can make it a pajama party.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Patton had the biggest smile.

Virgil nodded, ready to die.

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

Virgil wasn’t going to get super dressed up. It was a pajama party after all, not like he could wear a suit or makeup. Well, any more makeup than his usual eye shadow. But....he didn’t want to smell bad or anything.

“Virge that is the fifth time you’ve brushed your teeth. Are you planning on kissing him?”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, well I’m your wingman, whether you like it or not.”

“Well you suck at it. You never did find out his orientation.”

“Oh. He’s pan.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He has a pan pin on his backpack, I thought you saw it, with how much you stare at him.”

“I don’t stare at him!”

“Yeah, ok”

“I just zone out. It’s a thousand-yard stare. It’s not about who I’m looking at. It just happens.”

“So you can fantasize about him.”

“I am going to stab you with your own sword.”

“So this is a really bad time to tell you I have a date with the guy from the restaurant tonight and I’ll be joining you two later, huh?”

Virgil just noticed how gussied up Roman was. “What? You’re gonna leave me alone with him in the apartment.”

“Hey, you’re the one who invited him here.”

“Roman, please. I beg of you. It was so awkward when you left us.”

“You’ll be watching movies. You don’t have to make small talk. And it couldn’t have been that awkward. You literally asked him on a date.”

Virgil groaned but couldn’t say anything else because there was a knock on the door. Roman placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Don’t stress out too much. Patton is a sweet little puffball. He’ll understand if you’re a bit anxious.”

Virgil sighed and went into his room as Roman answered the door. Part of him wanted to lock himself in there forever, but he couldn’t just leave Patton all alone. So he grabbed his blanket and some pillows before walking into the living room and freezing.

Footie pajamas.

Cat footie pajamas.

Fuck he’s adorable.

It kinda made Virgil feel dull just wearing a plain black t-shirt, plain black sweatpants, and his usual hoodie. His hoodie wasn’t exactly dull, but he always wore it so the shock factor was gone.

“Hey, Virgil! Roman just told me he’s gotta head out. It’s a bit of a shame. But we’ll have fun together.”

“Uh yeah. Romeo here can’t turn off his charm for one night.”

“It’s a gift and a curse. I’ll be back late, so have fun you two. As much fun as you want.” Roman winked at Virgil and immediately got a pillow to the face.

“Ugh you’re just as bad as your brother.”

Roman clutched his chest in mock hurt before wiggling his fingers goodbye and walking out the door.

Virgil picked up the pillow he tossed and dropped everything in front of the tv. “Go ahead and choose the first movie. You want popcorn?”

“Yes please.”

Virgil stared at the microwave as the popcorn popped. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Sure he was so close to vomiting, but...it could actually be nice.

He poured the popcorn into the biggest bowl he could find and walked back to find Patton had picked Winnie the Pooh. “Heh. Cute.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” He placed the bowl in-between them and hit play.

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

It was actually a really nice time. Although Virgil put a ton of attention into not accidentally grazing Patton’s fingers in the popcorn bowl. He wanted to. But he knew if he did he would immediately die, and that might dampen the mood a bit. So Virgil was honestly relieved when the popcorn was gone.

Except his relief was short-lived, because Patton had moved the bowl out of the way and now there was nothing in-between them and they were under the same blanket and worrying about finger grazes was a lot less stressful than worrying about cuddling up to each other.

Besides that, it was nice.

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

After a few movies, Virgil noticed Patton’s head bobbing and his eyes drooping. He really was the cutest thing in the world, wasn’t he?

He was trying not to stare, but he probably should have because the next thing he knew, Patton had fallen asleep. On. His. LAP! And Virgil was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating.

What was the normal person response? He didn’t want to wake Patton by moving him. So he tried to play it cool and slowly ran his fingers through his hair. It was so soft. God, why was everything about him so soft?

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

A few hours later he heard the door open.

“Awwwww.”

“Shut it.” Virgil hissed.

Patton rubbed his eyes “Oh hey Roman. You’re back. How was your date?”

“Magical~ How was your…” Virgil glared at him “Night.”

“Pretty chill. I guess I kinda passed out. Sorry for falling asleep on you Virgil.”

“Nah it’s fine.”

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

The three of them were able to watch a movie and get into about a third of another one before Roman and Patton fell asleep.

Virgil felt his eyes getting heavy so he turned off the tv and curled up in the blanket before drifting off.

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

Virgil opened his eyes to a face full of hair. He didn’t remember cuddling up to Patton, but he must have.

He smiled and pulled Patton closer, nuzzling his nose into the back of his neck, hearing giggles coming from Patton.

“Morning Virgil.”

“Mmmm. Morning Pat.” He started pressing soft kisses on Patton’s shoulder blade, relishing in how he could see his blush reach the tips of his ears.

And then he woke up for real.

Virgil looked around. Patton wasn’t anywhere near. He wasn’t even on the ground anymore. This made Virgill sit up with a start. Where was he? Was he hurt? Did he get kidnapped? Did he-

The smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen and the sound of two voices chatting calmed him down. He found his phone and saw it was just after 10. He wasn’t usually up this early on the weekends. Unless he stayed up this late.

Virgil stretched and got up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Oh! Good morning Virgil. I’m almost done making breakfast.”

“Isn’t he great Virge? Real husband material if you ask me.” Roman grinned knowing he deserved the punch in the arm.

“You two should take a seat. It’ll be done any second now.”

Roman obliged, but Virgil stayed. Staring at Patton cooking, he imagined wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his chin on his shoulder.

Patton turned around “Oh kiddo. Did you need something?”

“I can...uh...help.”

“Aw. Thank you. Here. This is yours and this is Roman’s.” Patton handed him two plates before turning back to the stove.

Virgil nodded and brought out the plates to a grinning Roman “What?”

“Just a nice save is all”

“Maybe be snarky after I’m not holding your food.”

“Ok ok ok.” Roman grabbed his plate “Still a nice save.”

Virgil growled and sat down.

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

A few months had passed. Patton and Roman had kept pairing up for scenes, and Roman kept insisting to Virgil it was because they had become friends and had nothing at all to do with the fact that he was the ultimate wingman.

Roman’s date started hanging around more and more. Virgil learned his name was Logan, and he had started to really like his presence.

Virgil liked Roman and he was in love with Patton, but...they were really easily excitable and rambunctious. And when Virgil got overloaded, it was nice to find Logan in a different room just quietly reading a book. It was calming. To hang out with someone without needing to do anything. Allowed to listen to his headphones and just...be.

Logan was also a giant nerd, which comes in real handy with finals just around the corner.

Virgil also couldn’t help but notice how happy he made Roman. He had noticed that Roman’s flirty eyes had turned to more loving with stars in them every time he looked at Logan. It was really nice to see his friend in love and happy. He also finally had some retaliation to every single time Roman teased him about his crush on Patton. Although it didn’t hit as hard because Roman wasn’t keeping any of his feelings a secret.

Speaking of which, Virgil was still too nervous to ask Patton out. Still would fantasize about him. And still felt this weird feeling in his stomach whenever they hung out. Besides all that, the two of them had actually become close friends. Patton would always greet him with a hug, and Virgil wasn’t always the hugging type, but Patton was soft and warm and felt safe and always smells like vanilla, so he was the one exception.

Many nights the two of them had stayed up late talking. Virgil started to trust him, and tell him about all of his anxieties. Except for the ones that involved his crush of course. And the night that Patton told him that he usually bottles up his feelings and tries so hard to be happy even when he isn’t, Virgil almost felt honored with how much Patton trusted him back. It was also really nice to pull Patton into his lap and let him cry in his chest.Virgil hated himself for liking this when Pattion was so upset. But they were so close...it was nice. Despite the topic.

Then one night, Patton told Virgil that he had a crush on somebody and Virgil felt his heart crack into two pieces.

He knew he should have made a move sooner.

“That’s great Pat.”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you had any advice on how to ask them out.”

“Uh...Roman’s usually better at the whole love advice thing. You should ask him.”

“I did, but I’m pretty sure this person wouldn’t want the big romantic extravaganza Roman suggested. I also don’t have the money to rent a hot air balloon.” Vigil snorted “I wanna keep it simple. Like how would you want to be asked out?”

There was no way Patton could have known, but that hurt just as much as finding out about his crush. Having to tell Patton all the fantasies Virgil has had about him, without being able to make them come true. “Uh...I guess I just want to be asked to hang out. Well, not just hang out. Knowing my anxieties, I wouldn’t know if it was a romantic or a platonic thing. I would want you...or well...one...to actually say the words “as a romantic date”. No room for confusion, you know?”

“Got it. Just straight to the point. Thanks, Virgil!”

“Yeah, no problem.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------There was no way Virgil could sleep that night. He looked at Patton laying on his chest and despite how much it stung that he liked somebody else, this wasn’t so bad. Patton was his best friend. He was a great best friend. Crushes come and go. Maybe one day he would stop fantasizing about kissing him and he would be perfectly happy with the relationship they had.

Maybe.

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“Hey Virge, you haven’t talked all day. Something bugging you?” Roman leaned against Virgil and got shoved off.

“I’m fine.”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“You already know.”

“What do I already know?”

“About Patton’s…” Nope, he was not about to cry “About Patton’s crush”

Roman gasped “He told you?” Why did he sound so excited?

“Yeah. He told me about his crush and wanted more chill advice than what you gave him and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Roman blinked “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s fine. Patton’s a good friend. I’ll get over him. Eventually.”

Roman sighed deeply and muttered something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Don’t worry. I promise I’ll fix this.”

“No. Don’t interfere. He has his own feelings and emotions and is his own person. He likes someone else. It’s not his fault I’m too much of a coward to ask him out.”

“Virge-”

“It’s fine. I have class.”

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Virgil came back from class to see Patton in his apartment talking with Roman. This wasn’t all that surprising, but it still stung. And the fact Patton didn’t hug him was worrisome.

“Ah. You’re home.” Roman crossed his arms “Go on”

“What are you talking about?”

“Heh. I think he means me kiddo…”

“Huh”

“Well...I didn’t really want to put you on the spot with Roman’s suggestion, and when I asked Logan for advice, he told me I should get some information from the source. So I wanted to gather information and then ask you when the time was right. But your advice was literally to be direct, and this was completely not that. But I panicked and didn’t know how you felt. Roman was just telling me how I should have just confessed then and there and that I was making your anxiety worse…and I’m really sorry.”

“What?”

“Oh...uh...my crush is...you Virgil.”

Dreaming. He was dreaming. Daydreaming? Fantasizing? In a coma?

“Ah. Fucking finally!” Roman shouted “Do you know how stressful it’s been keeping both of your secrets for this long?”

Holy shit. This was reality.

“You like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Months of just watching you two together but not together.” Roman collapsed on the couch “It was probably more emotionally draining for me than for the two of you combined.”

“I like you too.”

“Eeee” Patton pounced onto Virgil and hugged him tightly.

Virgil staggered a bit but was able to keep them both up, holding Patton tight.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss”

“Roman, can you shut the fuck up for 5 seconds of your life?”

“Come on you know you want to.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and landed them on Patton “Uh...is it...o...k?”

“Mhm. Very much so.”

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

Holy shit. This time it really did happen.

“Aw. You guys are adorable.”

Virgil flipped Roman off “I’m not adorable”

“Yeah ok, buddy” Roman suddenly gasped making Virgil jump “We should have a double date!”

Patton squealed “YES!” He dragged Virgil over to the couch and he and Roman started prattling on about where they would go.

Usually, Virgil would leave when the two got this excited, but he was kind of excited too. In his own chill and calmer way. Besides, he had a boyfriend now. And it was really nice to finally wrap an arm around his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek while he was talking instead of just fantasizing about it.

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Later that night, Patton was sleeping on Virgil’s chest, and Virgil was too excited to sleep. He leaned down and kissed the top of Patton’s head and heard a giggle.

“You aren’t sleeping.”

“I can’t. Too happy.”

Virgil hid his blush, despite it being dark.

“Yeah...me too.”

#moxiety #logince #platonic royality #platonic prinxiety #platonic analogical #platonic logicality #Virgil sanders #Patton sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #college au #sanders sides

79 notes · View notes

chlodines · 4 years

Note

gasps. . . a prompt, fic, about the times where chloe was always late-

real quick, gotta write an essay due yday

WAIT I DIDNT KNOTHIS WAS MY MAIN-

Nadine considers herself to be a good judge of character and, within about 3 minutes of knowing Chloe, she already knows Chloe’s trouble.

“You’re late, Frazer.”

“Nice to see you, too!”

She better not make it a habit.

She does.

“You’re–”

“Yes, yes, I’m late,” Chloe says, bulldozing through a crowd with her 4-wheel suitcase and forcing Nadine to whirl around to catch up. “Let’s go!”

Rolling her eyes, Nadine follows suit towards the check-in desk where they weigh their suitcases. Of course, Chloe’s suitcase is a single gram off the limit and she’s very clearly smug about it, humming in satisfaction as the attendant sticks the tag on. Nadine has a suitcase and a duffel bag, both of which are a reasonable weight and decidedly under the limit.

Nadine checks her watch. They have 45 minutes to get through security and get to their gate, very conveniently located on the other side of the airport. Chloe just grins at Nadine’s clear annoyance.

“Race you there?”

“I won’t ask them to wait if you’re late for boarding.”

Chloe just grins wider, says, “I’m touched,” and yanks her towards security.

The necklace, an ugly thing, is right within her grasp. She cautiously tries the floor… nothing happens. So, she takes one step, two, and reaches out and–

Click of a disabled safety.

“Ah, ah,” comes a deep voice, too pleased, too familiar. “I wouldn’t.”

Nadine tilts her head and lets out a long-suffering sigh. Just her luck. “Shame you aren’t dead.”

Rafe laughs like the movie villain that he is. “You never were good at finishing the job.”

“No,” Nadine says, shrugging, “I suppose not.”

“Well, then, what’s another failure?” He moves, rotates to her 3, and she sees him. A petty part of her enjoys the fact that he had not, at least, escaped the ship unscathed. There is scar tissue. A lot of it. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”

Nadine narrows her eyes. “Remember how I let you live?”

Rafe’s eye twitches. Again, the petty part of her relishes in the fact that he looks on the outside as unhinged as he is on the inside. “You left me to die.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

“This is going to feel so good,” he sneers.

Sarcastically, she says, “Would it help to know that I’m a changed woman?”

He flushes a deep shade of red, his lips twisting into a scowl.

And, then, BANG!

Blood spatters across her face and arm. Ah, there’s the change to her woman.

“I wish you wouldn’t provoke a man pointing a gun to your head,” Chloe huffs, stomping in just as Nadine mutters, “excellent timing as always.”

“You’re late,” she says, grimacing and wiping delicately at herself with the hem of her shirt.

Chloe snorts and yanks the necklace off the pedestal. “Some things never change.”

“I think some things do,” Nadine says, lightly.

“Really?”

Nadine doesn’t turn around. Waits.

Chloe approaches until Nadine can see her from the corner of her eye. She lifts her phone up, opens her texts, and reads: “You’re late.”

“Was I wrong?”

Pocketing her phone with a huff, Chloe leans an arm against the railing and regards Nadine’s profile. After a moment, Nadine turns her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “…No, you weren’t.”

Nadine sighs, putting on a false air of indignation. “When am I ever?”

“Oi, no one ever holds me to it when I say meet me outside in 5 minutes. It just isn’t done. It’s a suggestion. An estimate.” Chloe sniffs and lifts up the arm behind her back, revealing a bottle of wine. “And, anyway, it was worth it.”

“I’m sure.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

Chloe huffs again but her eyes light up with mirth. “If you’re holding me to throwaway lines I’ve said, I’m holding you to yours.”

Nadine lifts an eyebrow. “And what exactly have I said to you that I have not followed through on?”

“You said, and I quote: just steal something and get me out of here, I’ll kiss you, have your firstborn.” Chloe shakes the bottle as if Nadine had somehow forgotten it was there. “I don’t care too much for children, but I stole something and here you are, outside, and, well, I’m waiting.”

“Retributive justice,” Nadine says, smoothly, unashamed, and grabs Chloe by the front of her shirt and yanks her down.

On her ascent, 2 men go screaming over the edge of the cliff above her. When she finally hauls herself over, Nadine’s got a boot upon a rock, retying her laces. Behind her, a man lies prone. She has barely broken a sweat.

“You’re late.”

“…you’re attractive.”

Nadine stops, looks up at Chloe through her lashes as Chloe makes a beeline for her. “Okay, I forgive you,” she says into Chloe’s mouth.

They’re on the pier again, dressed down this time. It had been an accident, really. They were just taking a walk, winding down from their last job, and had found themselves here.

“I’m late.”

Nadine rolls her eyes and accepts the cotton candy Chloe passes over. “What’s new?”

Chloe hums, steps between her legs, and puts a hand on Nadine’s cheek, the other behind her neck. She kisses Nadine, ardently, into the railing.

“You tell me,” she says once she’s satisfied and pulls away.

Nadine laughs, eyes crinkled around the edges. “Never pegged you as a romantic.”

“I love to defy expectations.” When Nadine prods her in the stomach, she just smiles, obliging. “It would’ve been more romantic if I brought you here–our sweet, little place–in, like, 4 months. A whole year since you first threw yourself at me.”

“You coerced me.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so easily convinced.”

Nadine squints, organizes her face into as much of a pout as Nadine Ross could physically get it into. “Name one other occasion.”

“No, I’ll do you one better,” Chloe says, cockily. “Watch this: meet me here in 4 months, 8 o’clock.” She leans in as Nadine opens her mouth to reply which is the perfect opportunity to lay one very salacious, very public kiss on her. It takes all her willpower to slant her forehead against Nadine’s and pull away. When she does, she grins. “See you there.”

“Don’t be late–” Chloe laughs. “Eish, this doesn’t prove anything.”

The jeep comes crashing through the foliage, horn and guns blazing. Chloe jumps out, practically hurls her whole body in Nadine’s direction, and grabs her arm–

Only, Nadine jerks away and shoots the last remaining merc in the head.

“Look, Nadine, it’s not what you think. I had a plan. I have a plan.” She tries again, reaching out. Nadine pulls her arm to her chest and glares. “Really, it’s not–”

“What?” Nadine bites out. “It’s not what?”

Chloe’s about to respond, but Nadine’s really had enough of Chloe’s excuses.

“What is it, then? Enlighten me.” She bunches her fists up but does not move them voluntarily. The shaking, she cannot help. “What plan could possibly involve making a deal with Shoreline? And without telling me shit?”

“I was going to–”

“Oh, fok off.” Nadine breathes out roughly, lifts her fist, the butt of her gun, to her temple and tries to rub away the headache. “You should’ve known. You know.”

“Nadine–”

“I said,” she says, quietly, turning away, “fuck. off.”

“Please. Just– Please–”

“It’s always the same with you. Too little, too late.” She’s hopping onto her motorbike, revving the engine, before Chloe can come up with a response.

And then she’s gone.

Nadine doesn’t know why she’s here. She wasn’t going to come even before the Shoreline mess but, then, she was just messing with Chloe. She was going to make up for it, make Chloe laugh, and now, well. She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know.

The details, she does know. She has friends, still, associated with Shoreline, and they had told her when she had gotten spectacularly drunk, thanks to a different friend, and sent a terse email to those very Shoreline friends.

They had threatened her. Her mother. Her friends. Her–Nadine looks up at the sky and sighs–her girlfriend. Ja, there are so many things she could have done better but Nadine can understand, sort of. Nadine can sympathise. Most of all, Nadine just hurts.

Below her, the water rises and falls, pushes in and pulls away. She looks down into the dark, swirling depths. Catches, in her peripheries, the time: 8:32. She shakes her head, at herself, at this whole situation, and stands fully. She turns, the side of the pier reaching out for the dark ocean is empty, and she leaves.

Then, she misses a step and almost stumbles.

At the other end, leaning against a pillar, Chloe watches her.

Approaching, Nadine gathers her wits and puts on her perfected poker face. When she’s close enough, Chloe pushes off the pillar and takes a few uncertain steps closer. They stop a good meter apart, silent for a few moments.

“How long were you there?” Nadine finally asks. So unimportant, but it was her first thought.

Chloe smiles, fond, wry, sad. “Yes, I was late. I, um.”

This time, Nadine waits for Chloe to explain.

“I was sitting in my car. Since 7:00.” Embarrassed, she glances over her shoulder and points over to the carpark. Looks back.

“Ah,” is all Nadine says.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She takes another step closer but doesn’t try to touch Nadine. Just so she can speak quieter. “I knew. But I did it anyway and I… I am so sorry. I–” She seems to be at a loss for words, rubbing at her neck.

“What do you want?” Nadine asks, not harshly, just prompting.

“I’m not asking for anything, for forgiveness. I just want to make it right.”

“That’s what you want?”

Chloe smiles again, this time it is just rueful. “You know what I want.”

Nadine does know. She’s just not ready. At least, she doesn’t think she is.

After a long time, she opens her arms and it feels like everything from the past few months washes off her, disappearing with the tide, when Chloe collapses into her. “Will you wait?”

Chloe tucks her face into Nadine’s shoulder, lets out a shuddering breath. “I will.”

It’s been just over half a year.

Nadine doesn’t think she’s arrogant but she will take credit for Chloe’s new policy of showing up on time. (Of course, she hasn’t done a total 180°. She still refuses to believe Nadine when she tells Chloe that 15 minutes early is on time and on time is late.)

She does think she is quite forgiving.

Chloe’s late, but only by a few minutes.

Then, classic Chloe, she comes charging in and scoops Nadine’s hand into her own. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

Nadine shrugs. “It’s alright.”

Chloe laughs. “Of course it is, you don’t even want to be here.”

“So you did it for me.”

“Well, yes, in a way; I was texting Nate to tell Sam to keep his trap shut about Shoreline.” Nadine’s face darkens, but Chloe starts to pull her towards the Fisher-Drake house and continues on: “Anyway, I think we should move in together.”

Nadine gapes.

It’s been over 3 years.

Nadine, drunk, adjusts her ill-fitting tuxedo and hums an old favourite. The man taps his foot, checks the clock on the wall.

“Um,” he starts.

Nadine smiles, blandly. “She’ll come.”

“Are you sure–”

“Ja.”

Vindication comes but 2 seconds later. The doors sweep open with a bang and in comes Chloe, stumbling over a plastic chair.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” she says in a rush, yanking her dress from around the arm of the chair and, when she’s free, turning to flash a megawatt at Nadine. “Hello.”

“Hi,” says Nadine, lightheaded. Before Chloe can apologise for her tardiness, as she does now, Nadine beckons her over, impatient. “Yes, yes, you are forgiven.”

“I went to buy you flowers,” she points out as if she isn’t hugging a massive bouquet to her chest. “Really expensive.”

Nadine, graciously, accepts it and, in quick succession, dumps it into the officiator’s arms.

It takes them another hour to get married.

It’s been almost 50 years.

She sits on a bench next to a weeping stranger, leans closer onto her cane to rub a hand on the person’s back.

“Who is it?” Nadine asks after handing over a packet of tissues.

“My father,” murmurs the stranger, a girl, then sniffles.

Nadine nods. “Did he make you happy?”

“No. Sometimes.” The girl looks down at her feet, eyes red-rimmed. “But I don’t know why I’m sad.”

“You feel what you feel,” Nadine says, sagely. The girl gives her a wobbly smile and introduces herself.

After she gets her breathing in control, she gestures vaguely and asks, “What about you?”

Nadine smiles. “Just thinking about her makes me happy.”

“Who is ‘her’?” she asks, frank in the way only children and teenagers can pull off without seeming rude.

Nadine doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking out at the grass, the blue skies, Chloe’s name. Then, she looks back and laughs, so very warmly, and says, “My late wife.”

#whewwwwwwwww 5am i didnt sleep anyway this is 3 months late i hope ur still around to read this #uninstalling word #chlodinefics #chlodine #anonymous #ask #fuck i rly thought this was my other blog. clown shit #also more clown shit i was gonna crack a virgin mary joke bc i was gonna make chloe be like 'im late..wheres my period....'

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Note

Homegirl I’m shy as hell when it comes to my writing and like every other writer I’ve message never replies. Like I’ll ask for advise and they won’t say anything but they’ll comment on any praise I give. I’m intimidated as hell.

Well they're not very nice people. Writers should support other writers cause we all know the struggle of the process of writing and then waiting for any sort of feedback once our stories are posted.

I get that you're intimidated. I was scared to start publishing my stories. But I love writing and I love my fandoms so I just said fuck it and did it. You just gotta go for it, dude.

No one on this site instantly gained 1000 followers after writing and posting one story. It's a slow process. It's also hard if you're writing for a popular fandom/tag/pairing cause that stuff will get buried real quick. But still, push that shit out like you're printing a 100 page essay. Like I said, dude

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alexander-slander · 6 years

Text

Song fic chapter one (part two)

Summary: College au. Characters singing to each other. There’s not much I can say without giving it away.

DISCLAIMER: None of the songs feautured in this story are mine!

TW:There’s no real warnings minor cussing I think can’t remember if you want to be tagged let me know enjoy!!

A/N: this one is a lot shorter and a day late. Sorry stuff came up yesterday tag list will be at the end chapter two will be up next week! Enjoy!

—————————————————————

Group chat “celebrating”

Biscuit: I gotta go.

Idiotblonde: why babe?

Biscuit: I have an English essay due tomorrow I’m working the late shift tonight and I’ve gotta calm Simon down cause he started hyperventilating.

Kickbuttfighter: did he start hyperventilating because…

Biscuit: yes.

The grouch: wait Simon started hyperventilating? I could go calm him down for you? You seem really busy.

Biscuit: NO. “Cough” as much as I appreciate that you’ll just make it worse.

The grouch: Umm…okay

Private chat between The grouch and Glitter-mania

Glitter-mania: So…

The grouch: what?

Glitter-mania: don’t what me. You know what I’m talking about.

The grouch: I don't

Glitter-mania: fine. Are you going to talk to Shawn?

The grouch: his name is Simon and why would I talk to him? It's not like he wants to talk to me.

Glitter-mania: puhhh-lease. You know that's as true as I am straight.

The grouch: Magnus. Stop butting into my love life. Remember what happened last time?

Glitter-mania: yeah, yeah, I get it but I'm not going to deny the fact that he so obviously likes you.

The grouch: You're delusional. Gotta go class starts in an hour.

Glitter-mania: later

Back to group chat celebrating.

Glitter-mania: So who’s still here?

Idiotblonde: I’m here

Kickbuttfighter: me too.

NurseCatarina: I'm here too.

Glitter-mania: Alright so I have a plan.

Glitter-mania created a group chat

Make Saphael canon

Idiotblonde: yes finally I’m tired of having to help Clary calm Simon down.

Kickbuttfighter: yes my second favorite ship!!

Idiotblonde: Izzy!

Kickbuttfighter: oops

Glitter-mania: what’s your favorite ship?

Idiotblonde: you don’t want to know trust me.

Glitter-mania: okay if Jace is weirded out by it then I definitely don’t want to know.

Kickbuttfighter: hey someone add Clary. If we’re going to get them together we need her

Idiotblonde added biscuit

Idiotblonde: gotcha Iz.

Biscuit: hey guys I just got Simon calmed down.

Glitter-mania: oh good then you’re free.

Biscuit: NO Magnus I’m not I still have the essay to write and my shift starts in an hour.

Idiotblonde: you’re going to want to read this.

Biscuit: I have an idea

Kickbuttfighter: that was quick

Biscuit: I’ve been trying get him to ask him out for a month now. Magnus can you get Simon a gig at pandemonium for Friday night?

Glitter-mania: it was done yesterday.

Biscuit: thanks Magnus. Izzy I’m going to need you to pick out Simon’s clothes.

Kickbuttfighter: on it.

Biscuit: Jace I need you on standby in case one of them decides they don’t want to come.

Idiotblonde: got it.

NurseCatarina: what do you want me to do?

Biscuit: I need you on standby incase this goes horribly wrong. Alright now I really got to go.

Idiotblonde: later babe

Kickbuttfighter: see ya

Glitter-mania: bye biscuit. —————————————————————

Okay way a day late and a lot shorter than I expected but I guess it’s not that short. Anyway hope you enjoyed if you want to be tagged don’t be afraid to ask and if I missed any warnings pls tell me I will remedy that as quickly as I can.

Taglist:

@big-bubblebear

#shadowhunters tv #shadowhunters #writeaway #saphael #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #songfic

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albotas · 6 years

Video

youtube

Media Journal: Yakuza Kiwami

We’ve been wanting to keep a journal of the media we consume lately. There are too many choices today – saturation is still climbing. It’d suck to not remember playing, watching, or reading a piece of media, so to help cope with us getting older, we’re recording thoughts on ALBOTAS concerning the visual mediums without necessarily writing a full-blown review. Let us know if you think this semi-regular media journal thing would be something you guys are interesting in reading more often! - Kevin

I’m A Yakuza Boy Now

After hearing about the series such a long time, I decided to purchase Yakuza Kiwami back in March to see what the fuss was about. My knowledge of the series was scarce. I knew Yakuza debuted on the PS2 over a decade ago, and at the time of its release, my 14-year-old brain couldn’t grasp its concept, nor was I interested. This was at a time in my life where Okami, Bully, Final Fantasy XII and my PSP (which some fuck sat on in high school and broke during gym class) took up a bulk of my time, and I had no idea what Japanese culture was like outside of anime. I’ve heard that Yakuza 0 is a solid jumping on point, and after viewing a few videos of its story arc and mini-game absurdities, I decided to grab Yakuza Kiwami for my PS4 to experience a remaster of the first game, rather than jump aboard 0 and risk any mechanical differences. I later found out the two games are hardly any different from each other. I should’ve been paying more attention. But I digress.

Yakuza Kiwami, without a doubt, has struck something in my bones concerning video games I don’t believe I’ve felt in my adulthood. It’s an open-world game that feels completely closed off from the nuisance of open-world freedom. The last open-world game I played was Watch Dogs 2, which was massive and offered a plethora of daunting, tedious tasks; collect this, climb to this spot and hack this, throw your graffiti up on this, take a photo of this. What Kiwami offers, for me anyway, is a chance to immerse myself into the fictional city of Kamurocho, rather than exist in its sandbox and dilly-dally around for large amounts of time. Kamurocho is smaller, but denser. Where a Grand Theft Auto-esque clone offers a massive amount of space and freedom, Yakuza offers a tighter, more concise familiarity of a packed city. I can walk around and recognize landmarks on the map, remember what streets I need to traverse to get to my desired location. I can walk into a restaurant, grab some new food and gain experience points (just like in real life). I can walk down an unfamiliar alleyway and trigger a substory that offers the stoic main character, Kazuma Kiryu, the opportunity to show me, the player, who he truly is. As Kiryu interacts with some of the city’s bizarre, needy, or sometimes neurotic characters, I can further understand his character outside of the main story arc. Furthermore, I don’t have the option of hitting the city’s pedestrians with my fists, which helps reinforce the fact that I’m playing as a humble, noble character. Kazuma Kiryu is a tough-guy who is generous, honest, caring. Playing with him is a joy, and watching him interact with the city and its inhabitants is a wonderful experience. Yakuza Kiwami’s way of painting a whole picture isn’t just about making the player progress through its dramatic crime drama storyline as fast as possible. It’s about combining every random character’s sorrow, joys and troubles into a ball and cornering its main character into empathizing with the world around him. Thus is life. Combat is mildly janky, yet fluid. A one-on-one fight with a crime boss involves the quick-dodging Rush-mode, or the balanced Brawler-mode, paying close attention to an opponent’s movements to counter-attack or avoid any punches or flying kicks thrown in Kiryu’s way. An all-out brawl, however, involves the heavy Beast-style of attack, throwing stronger, slow punches at hordes of enemies, and picking up whatever weapons are in range to make it an official street fighter. I gotta say, picking up an entire motorcycle with one hand and slamming it into someone’s laid out body is one of the most satisfying, yet odd attractions about Yakuza’s combat. The wide array of everyday weapons recalls the Dead Rising series for me. I don’t know. I guess I’m a Yakuza boy now. I’m obsessed with Yakuza’s characters, city and combat. Fighting is repetitive, yet with multiple fighting modes, it’s a variety. There aren’t any cars to travel from one place to another (there are taxis, though) but walking around the city and taking in all of its neon-lit multi-storied buildings are a joy. And with the game’s intense focus on mini-games and activities – everything from visiting an arcade and playing crane machines or the real-life arcade/card game Mushiking: The King of Beetles, to bowling, darts, and going on dates with women at hostess clubs – it’s hard to say Yakuza Kiwami isn’t worth its price tag. I threw 35 hours into this game and I intend on throwing more in before the end of the month. Then it’s onto Yakuza 0. And then probably the rest of the series.

Do want to learn more about Yakuza? Check these links: Why You Should Play Yakuza: A solid video essay on the world of Yakuza by Super Eyepatch Wolf Yakuza Games, Ranked by Polygon/JC Fletcher JC Fletcher (of Tiny Cartridge) writes on Yakuza 6 An example of the weird arcade game in Kiwami, Mesuking An example of Yakuza Kiwami’s karaoke The History of Yakuza, by GameSpot

#Yakuza Kiwami #PS4 #Sony #PlayStation #media journal #gaming #video games #journal #Yakuza #Japan

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wawawakalen · 4 years

Text

i believ

alex is sleepin

and if i am correct

i can begin my alex appreciation post at 12am because my back hurts and i cant sleep god save me from back pain please

ive been also listening to welcome to the black parade on loop for the last hour. this is the best way to write a n y t h i n g

aight so, lets start simple i wanna make this like a fuckign essay you know but at the same time like a powerpoint- should i do a powerpoint? perhaps, one day i will. powerpoint. but not right now. i dont think.

this is such a mess but fuxk it im just writing everythknf down no filter just thots while mcr blasts in my ears. i need a bass boosted version actually ill brb. im listeming to bohemian rhapsody instead now-

ok im gonna stop fuxkign around now ok? ok. so, alex, pretty man, cute boy, lovely person, handsome dude, ya know? he is so precious, an absolute blessing and i will fist fight anyone who thinks otherwise istg 🔫🔫🔫

like, i dont have words to properly describe it all yknow but, like, literally so awesome, such a cool man- oh i didnt set loop on the song gotta do that- aight done, so, as i was saying, alex is just wow

got butterflies in my stomach and fluffy feelings because woaaaaaaa he so niceeee and he so cuteeee and like, hes super talented as well?? like his writinf? i swear- so creative and honestly such good writing i rate a 28283772/10 because woa man you got my whole soul devoted to the things you write aight?

and then he. just. he. he is, himself and that alone makes him so amazing and lovely, theres no words to described how captivatinf this man is i swEAAARRR

he gets my whole heart.

like,, his smile,,,,, so,, sweet and lovely and so cute,, the way he laughs,, makes me go all red and- actually let me make something real quick-

drawing on phone is so goddamn hard omg props to doc and whoever else draws on their phone like damn-

but basically, i go all heart eyed and shit because ohmygod hes so precious, i lovehim

and like, whenever he talks about anything, he could be rambling about the smallest little thing and i, i just love to hear it.

and if he talks about his interests i immedately go:

because yESSSIR YES KING LET ME KNOW ABOUT THE THINGS YOU LIKE IM SO HAPPY WHEN YOU TALK ABOUT THINGS THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY ITS LITERALLY SUCH A BLESSING LIKE MAN OK💕💖💕💖💝💝💓💝💖💝💖💝💓💝💝💓💝💓💕💖💝💖💕💝💓💕💓💝💖💝💝💖💕💓💝 you feel me?

he's just, such a great person you know,,, like,,, being around him is instant serotonin, he is, and i keep repeating this but, he is a blessing,,,, someone so unlike anyone else i know, it makes me so happy to be able to share my love with him, and i hope i make him happy too 👉👈

so in conclusion, i love alex, with my whole heart. and im not a pussy because he might probably be asleep so, tagging the man himself so he sees when he wakes up @golden-buddle

i lov u alex. thank u for existing.

me and u ^

#I FORGOT TO PUT TAGS #long post #im love u you sweet man>:)#you better be sleepin #or else 💖💝💖💝💖💖💓💝🔫

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fuckyeamia-blog · 4 years

Text

Internet marketing terms

If you use this image in any way, shape or form, please give credit to: joshmacdonald.net

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Posted by JoshMacDonald on 2016-01-17 17:43:22

Tagged: , internet , marketing , business , blogging , seo , search , engine , optimization

The post Internet marketing terms appeared first on Good Info.

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katranga · 7 years

Text

Disclaimer: Fic is just for fun. Nobody on ao3, or tumblr, or wherever, is expecting perfection. Most of these tips are gonna take a little extra time and effort to implement, and if you don’t feel like doing that, because you just wanna post the darn thing? Go for it! I’m not here to tell you what to do, and I’m certainly not saying that your writing is bad if you don’t follow these tips. These are just suggestions that will hopefully help you improve your work, if that’s what you’re after.

Intro: Why Revise?

To kick things off, I’d like to go over the importance of revision!! This is more of a general writing tip, but it’s a great starting point, because I DON’T want you to be thinking about most of my future tips while you’re writing the first draft.

I want you to get. those. words. on. the. page! That’s all you should be worried about when you’ve got a blank page staring you in the face.

There’s so much pressure to get writing right the first time, but I’m here to tell you that’s pretty much impossible. So, pressure’s off! Just write the basics so you get to know your story first. I

I know it seems like writing it perfectly will save you editing/revising time later on, but you can’t revise—let alone post—what you don’t have written because you’re stuck on one line that doesn’t sound just right. You with me so far? Great!

Honestly, writing gets so much faster when you remind yourself that no one is going to see your first draft!

So I cannot overstate the importance of revision.

Because guess what? Everything you don’t like about your first draft can be fixed in revision!

Okay. What is it?

To clarify, when I say first draft, I don’t mean the stuff you do in high school, where you write out a shitty essay on paper first and then type it up basically the same, just to prove to the teacher you wrote a first draft?? Or whatever.

I mean you just write the absolute basics of your story down, and fill in the rest and perfect it later (I’ll go into detail about how exactly to do that in my motivation post).

Now, grammar, spelling, and overall readability, are all important things to fix before you post. But that’s little stuff, and your word processor will be able to pick up on some of that, and just rewording a few sentences to make them clearer probably won’t take too much effort on your end (though I am gonna have a post about filler words and clarity and stuff like that, so if that tends to be a problem for you, I gotchu).

Besides basic grammar/spelling, most of what I change as my first draft transforms into my second or third is:

Improving the flow of a scene (it can’t all be dialogue, unfortunately)

Pacing throughout the fic (are they falling love too fast? is this scene too long? etc)

Overall clarity (I know why the character did that, but will the reader?)

It may be different for you. Basically, you’re polishing up whatever you didn’t worry about writing the first draft.

My first drafts, for example? They’re 80% dialogue. Because that’s my favourite! And that’s what comes to me when I’m dreaming up fics. But then I go back later and beef up the rest—the characters’ movements in a scene, their inner dialogue, description etc.

Because as much as I love dialogue, scenes feel empty and too-fast with just characters talking. Similarly, scenes can feel bogged down and slow with just characters thinking about things.

But revision isn’t just about adding things! Sometimes you need to take stuff out. Inner dialogue that later gets covered by dialogue? Cut it. (Or vice versa—maybe the detail isn’t important enough for the characters to talk about, and just the mention of it within the narration is enough).

The point is, repetition needs to go. The reader rarely needs to be told the same thing twice.

Quick example from the top of my head:

Lance had lost his jacket. He’d looked over the whole castle for it, but couldn’t find it anywhere. His brother gave him that jacket. One of his last ties to Earth, and it was missing in action.

Maybe Keith took it to spite him, that jerk.

“What’s up, Lance?” Hunk asked when he passed him in the hall.

“I lost my jacket!” Lance said. “My signature jacket, the one Marco gave me! I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s gone. Do you think Keith stole it?”

Same information twice: Lance can’t find his brother’s jacket despite a thorough search, and suspects Keith stole it. No reason to repeat that. Something’s gotta go.

I know cutting stuff isn’t fun. You worked hard on that! You spent hours/days/whatever perfecting a sentence until it gleamed like a diamond, and now just because you thought of a better way to get that information across you have to get rid of it? No way!

I’ve been there, trust me. But hanging on just slows down the whole writing process. Because, for me at least, I know when stuff needs to go, or needs a massive overhaul, or whatever. I’m just digging my heels in because I don’t wanna do any additional work.

Luckily, this is where your shitty first draft comes in handy! If all you did was spit words onto the page as soon as they entered your head, then you didn’t spend a lot of back-breaking effort on whatever you need to cut! And what you need to cut isn’t anything awe-inspiring, it’s just your rough notes, so tossing it aside isn’t nearly as stressful!

Remember, you can always save scenes/dialogue/etc in a separate document! Maybe you’ll be able to salvage some it later. Alternatively, create separate versions of the doc as you edit/revise. If you end up actually needing part of a deleted scene, you’ve still got it somewhere!

And please, never think of the stuff you cut (or fics you never finished) as “wasted time”. Writing time is never wasted! You’re practicing, you’re honing your craft, and even if some bits never see the light of day, you’re still benefitting from all that work you did!

Now, I know I know I know most people edit/revise as they write. Can’t think of the next scene? Reread the previous scene and fiddle with it until something comes to you. That’s great! Revising already written material is loads better than just staring at your screen!

BUT I’ve recently started writing the whole gosh darn diddly thing without looking back and that is so much faster! While I highly recommend it, that’s obviously difficult to do when you don’t know what’s going to happen next in the fic.

Or if you just don’t have the motivation. So! That’ll be our next topic: Getting words on the page!

But for now, I’ve got an example under the cut, as well as additional resources and links if you want to learn more about revision!

Here’s where I take an old embarrassing fic of mine and revise it, hopefully clarifying the points I’ve been making, as well as proving that only practice makes better!

Okay so this is an excerpt of one of my unpublished fics from 2011. I’m just gonna be honest with you here, it was a Twilight human!AU where Edward was a massive nerd.

For background, Bella has been at the new school like a week and is appalled at the bullying happening to Edward, who she barely knows. (It’s first person bc that’s how the books were written. Just deal with it.)

Here we go:

“They gave him a swirly yesterday,” I announced, appalled.

“Who?”

“Edward!”

Jessica shrugged, unaffected. “Nothing new.”

“Well what are they, twelve?” I demanded angrily.

“He kind of needed a hair wash,” Mike muttered.

Snorts of amusement followed.

“Stuffing his head into a toilet is not funny,” I argued.

“Yes it is, Bella,” Alice chuckled.

“Kay, next time we go to the bathroom, I’ll shove your head into a toilet,” I offered. “And we’ll all laugh about it.”

This was a whole scene, I kid you not. Now, this isn’t bad because it’s just dialogue. It’s ten lines. That’s a reasonable amount of space for a quick dialogue exchange. HOWEVER, there’s about four people in this scene, so the dialogue tags are a little sparse. ALSO, this is the first time Bella’s bringing her concerns about Edward to the group, so there should be more inner reflection on that.

Overall, it’s just way too minimalist lol. So this is a good example to beef up.

First of all: where the fuck are we? Notice how no setting was given? Not the greatest habit to get into. If it’s already been established in the fic where people are, and the setting’s not that important, I guess you can skip it, but a quick mention isn’t gonna hurt. You don’t want the reader confused!

Since this a Twilight fic, let’s say they’re in the caf. (In Voltron fics, you’re probably gonna be on the ship, but you can always mention what room they’re in. Or, if it’s a new planet, give a line or two of description).

Explanations for changes I made are in [square brackets]:

I tossed my lunch tray onto the table before throwing myself onto the chair next to Alice. “They gave him a swirly yesterday.”

[Indicated setting. Also implied she was feeling “appalled” using verbs instead of outright stating it. Showing not telling!]

Across from me, Angela looked up from the sandwich she was picking at. “Who?”

[Indicated who was speaking—always important—as well as gave brief description of speaker].

“Edward,” I said like it should be obvious. I scanned the cafeteria for him, but the corner he usually sat in alone was empty.

[Another mention of setting. Also backed up her concern for Edward with action and not just talking about him].

Jessica shrugged, unaffected. “So what?”

“So?” I repeated incredulously.

So I’d never heard of someone actually getting a swirly. In real life. Shitty teen dramas? Yeah. Actual high school? No. It was ridiculous, and gross, and… I hadn’t seen anything to indicate Edward deserved it. (Nobody who’d ever deserved a swirly had ever received one, I was sure).

[The almighty character motivation! Note that you don’t actually have to explicitly state why they’re doing something—obviously we as the reader know the deep-down motivation is because Bella cares for Edward. But characters are not always forthcoming with information, even to themselves. Right now she’s focusing on the unjustness of the situation, and partially trying to convince herself that’s all it is].

Mike slung an arm across the back of Jessica’s chair, snorting a laugh. “He needed to wash his hair, anyway.”

“A toilet’s not gonna do that, Mike!”

[Just a cleverer response. Also, a dialogue tag isn’t needed, because no other speaker at the table is gonna be defending Edward. We know it’s Bella.]

He ignored my glare, choosing instead to steal a fry off my plate. I smacked his hand away.

[Again—action. The characters aren’t just static in their seats.]

“Well, really,” Alice began. “What’s it matter?” She sat up sharply, an idea just now occurring to her. “You haven’t been making friends with him, have you? I told you, Bella, it’s social suicide!”

[Gives Alice a chance to respond to Bella’s outburst—in this AU Alice is very concerned with popularity and does not want Bella associating with Edward. She would definitely have a problem with Bella sympathizing with Edward.]

I rolled my eyes. “No, I just…”

The whole situation was ridiculous. This wasn’t how people should be treated. Was I the only one who realized that? Was I really the only one who cared?

“Whatever,” I grumbled, crunching down on a fry.

[This feels like a more natural resolution to the conversation. Alice directly asks why Bella cares, and Bella reiterates to herself it’s just because. And then decides it’s not worth the argument. This is 2k into an (unfinished) 30k fic. She’ll make a bigger deal out of stuff later.]

Now it looks more like a real scene!

So, to summarize, I added: Description—both setting and character! Character musing! Cleverer comebacks!

These are just some of the things that you can fix with a keen-eyed round of revision.

And that about wraps this up! I didn’t want this to get too long, but it did anyway. (I’m sorry about the graphics I’m a writer, not a graphic designer. But I had to split the post up so it wasn’t one big block of text)

Was any of that helpful? Was it too long? Did the example clarify things? Let me know, I wanna make sure these tips are helpful!

Additional Resources That I Highly Recommend:

DRAFTING: THE THEORY OF SHITTY FIRST DRAFTS -- This post probably explains shitty first drafts better than I ever could! If you still have concerns about it, definitely check it out.

Editing & Revision Answerathon -- Okay, this video is pretty long, but I looove Max Kirin for anything writing-related and especially revision!! They’ve got a tumblr and a Youtube account filled with writing tips! If you like getting your writing info through videos, definitely check out their stuff.

Top 5 Writing Tips: Revision -- Here’s an infographic by Max if you don’t want to watch a 44 minute video lol. Also, you can go through their /tagged/revision for more!

#writing advice #fic writing advice #revision #katranga writes #i mean a lot of these tips are gonna be just general writing tips #but i will focus on issues that commonly crop up in fics #revision was just really important to go over first #idk i hope this is helpful #katranga's fic tips #i guess will be the tag

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plusultra-anime · 7 years

Text

The Cat Dragged In

A Destiel minific (or at least, it was supposed to be mini but it ran away with me a little). This is going to be posted up on AO3 just as soon as I can get an account, but for now, here’s the first chapter (1/3). (Feedback welcome/reblogs appreciated)

Supernatural Pairing: Dean x Cas / Destiel Based off (but not really sticking to) a prompt from @dailyau / @ashesinyourhair: “How the hell does your cat keep getting into my house AU” Word count: 3.2k ... ish Warnings: a bit of swearing

The Cat Dragged In

“—Jee-heesus! … Fuck.”

A black cat with eyes as green as a summer forest was sitting on the counter. Dean’s counter. The counter in Dean’s until-now-cat-free apartment. Dean pressed a hand to his chest and took a few steadying breaths. God, he hadn’t been expecting to see a cat when he turned the corner into the kitchen.

“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, approaching the counter slowly, reaching out a hand. The cat sniffed his fingers then pressed its cheek against his palm. He rubbed its fur. It was purring, a loud rumble, and it gave a harsh “myao” when he stopped.

“I don’t wanna be friends, dude,” Dean mumbled. He lifted up the tag on its collar so the writing would catch the light. 2B, it read, and following that was the name and address of Dean’s apartment building.

“Hm.” So it came from the apartment directly above. Weird. Dean had never heard anyone moving about up there so he had kind of assumed it was empty.

The cat stretched out, wriggling its toes and letting out a big yawn that showed needle teeth. It sprang down onto the floor, its claws making a soft click on the floor tiles as it landed, and started to rub itself on Dean’s leg.

“Mmmrraow!”

“You’re cute too buddy, but I gotta get you home before your owner starts worrying about you.”

And fuck knows how you got in here, he thought, tapping the countertop. Gotta have that damn widow lock checked.

Dean slid a hand under the cat’s belly and started to lift it, tucking his other hand under its butt to hold it against his chest. It was purring again, and the warm vibration was soothing. Dean kissed the top of its head and made a few soothing clicks with his tongue.

“Ok, buddy, let’s get you home.”

Dean tapped the door shut with his foot on the way out and climbed the stairs, muttering to the cat about how breaking into people’s apartments was wrong and how maybe he should get a dog to protect his home from invading felines. The cat replied in curt meows while sticking claws into Dean’s chest.

The hallway of floor 2 was a little dimmer than floor 1, with only one light in the stairwell and one at the far end of the hall. 2B was, of course, the second door down.

Dean shifted the cat’s weight so he could wriggle a hand free. He gave three sharp knocks and took a step back, casting a glance behind him and down the hall.

The lock clicked; the door of apartment 2B opened just a crack, and then a bit more.

“Lucifer!” A deep voice that reached right down to Dean’s toes and all the way back up again.

The guy looked a little scruffy, with dark messy hair and a blue tie that wasn’t quite tied properly. His shirt was wrinkled and his chin was dark with stubble. There was a little fleck of dried toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, and dark bags under eyes that shone sapphire. He had squinted at Dean, until he saw the cat. Then his whole body had softened and without another word he scooped Lucifer up from the crook of Dean’s arm.

“Found the little guy making himself at home in my kitchen,” Dean explained, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced.” 2B shifted his eyes to Dean’s face.

“I mean, if anything it showed me there’s a fault in my home security somewhere, so really I should be thanking … Lucifer.” He tried not to smile around the name as it came out of his mouth. “Is he named after Lucifer in that, uh … the Disney one?”

“No, he’s named after the devil,” 2B replied, deadpan. Dean couldn’t tell if he was joking. He tried a friendly smile.

“He’s that bad, huh?”

2B chuckled and gave Lucifer an affectionate scratch under the chin. “He can get up to mischief sometimes, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding. Well I’ll see you around, 2B. If he goes missing again, I’m right under you so, y’know. Feel free to knock.”

***

The sun was just starting to rise, colouring everything that hazy grey-blue, when Dean next saw the guy from 2B. He was struggling with an armful of books, trying to open the front door but unable to manoeuver his hand into a position that would enable him to put the key in the lock. Dean, exhausted from too long a shift at the Red Rose, steeled himself for a social interaction that he really didn’t have the energy for, and jogged the last few paces to the door.

“I got it, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Dean took out his key and unlocked the door, stepping through so he could hold it open.

“Could-?” 2B stopped himself, as Dean closed the door and started towards his apartment. He turned and gave 2B a questioning look.

“Could you open my apartment for me?” 2B finished, glancing away from Dean’s weary gaze. Dean let his eyes drop to the pile of books then looked at 2B’s face. He tried not to smile at his bashful expression.

“Yeah, no problem.”

They began to climb the stairs side by side. Dean’s legs ached from a long night of being on his feet and he yearned to crawl into bed and go out like a light, but he would feel terrible if he’d left 2B to struggle with that ridiculous pile of books.

When they reached the apartment, Dean took the key that was dangling from 2B’s hand and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside so that 2B could enter, then leaned a hand against the doorframe.

“You gonna manage from here?” he asked, only half-joking.

2B placed the books on an end table with care then exhaled heavily. “Yeah, thanks.”

Suddenly Dean could hear cats – multiple cats – meowing loudly from the depths of the apartment.

2B called out, “Yes, Papa’s home!” There was the clicking of claws on wood, and Dean peered round into the apartment to see three cats pouring into the front room. A small, confident tortoiseshell took the lead, followed by a fluffy white cloud of a cat – who eyed Dean warily – and black, sleek Lucifer padded along lazily behind them.

“You have three cats?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Seven,” 2B replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He bent down to pet the tortoiseshell, who was rubbing itself against his legs. “But some of them come and go as they please.”

Well that might explain how Lucifer got down to my apartment, thought Dean, although he still hadn’t found any place it could have got in.

2B straightened up and turned back to Dean. “Thank you for your help,” he said in that deep, flat voice. Dean took this as a dismissal. He nodded and patted the doorframe once.

“No problem. See you around 2B.”

2B chuckled. He watched his tall, tired-looking neighbour move down the hall a little before he closed the door with a gentle click. Lucifer was sitting at his feet, gazing at him intently. With a smile, 2B picked him up and looked him in the eyes.

***

“Papa’s home.” A door closes with a thud and there are cats meowing in the next room. Dean hears the clink of keys being thrown onto an end table and heavy, tired footsteps. He stands and the room focuses. A man is walking towards him, dishevelled dark hair, bright blue eyes and a wrinkled shirt. Dean smiles, he can feel warmth radiating towards him. The man smiles back, his nose crinkling at the top, and he stops a foot away from Dean. Dean feels a cat rubbing against his leg. The man is even closer now. A cat meows.

It meows but there’s something wrong with how it sounds. It’s nearer than it should be. Dean’s breath quickens. There’s something wrong, it’s not here it’s …

Real.

Dean jolted awake with a start, his breath coming sharp. The sun had set since he’d rested his head on the desk – just for a minute – and a quick glance at the clock on his computer told him he’d been asleep for a little under two hours.

Fuck.

He sat up and stretched out his arms. He rubbed his sore neck. Then he noticed Lucifer.

The cat paused in licking its legs to honour Dean with a glance. “Myao,” it said, before going back to its wash. Dean let out a heavy sigh that turned into a groan part way through.

“Come on, man, not today.” He rose and went to pick up Lucifer, who started purring against his chest. On the way to the door, Dean picked up and pocketed his keys, grabbed his phone and double-checked the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be late to his shift.

Dean half-ran up the stairs, cradling the cat as gently as he could, and rapped loudly on the door of apartment 2B.

No answer. He waited a few more seconds and knocked again. Still no answer.

Must be out. Dean licked his lips. He hesitated. No, he would be late for work. He turned back to the stairwell and made his way back to his apartment, where he left Lucifer under strict instructions to behave, before rushing out and locking the door behind him.

It was almost five in the morning when he got back. He’d got a cute girl’s phone number and raked in some good tips this shift, so it was in good spirits that he walked the few blocks back to the apartment building.

As soon as he was home, Dean made himself a coffee. He told himself he was only going to work on his essay an hour before going to bed. He sat down in front of his computer and woke it up. As he worked, the sun began to rise, breaking the sky into hues of pink and gold.

There was a soft knock at the front door. Dean glanced up from the screen and frowned, not entirely sure whether he’d actually heard something. But then there was a second knock. He stood and stretched.

When he opened the front door, he was surprised to see 2B, looking sleepy in his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” 2B started, “But I just got home and Lucifer wasn’t th-”

He stopped short as a loud “mrao” came from the bedroom. Dean winced as he realised he’d forgotten about the cat.

“Yeah, he’s here,” said Dean, his gaze flicking to 2B’s lips which were parted slightly, then up to his eyes which were bright despite the guy’s obvious fatigue. “He showed up right before I left for work but you weren’t in so I left him here, then … uh, forgot about him.”

2B gave a quiet laugh, his teeth showing and his nose crinkling. Dean felt himself chuckling too.

“Oh, he’s not going to be happy,” 2B said with a smile, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Do you want to come in? I was just gonna make some more coffee.”

“Thank you, I think I could use some caffeine.”

Dean stepped aside to let him in. 2B looked around the room carefully, as though taking note of everything.

“Make yourself at home,” Dean told him. He went over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and yawned widely and comfortably. Only three hours until he’d have to leave for class. He should have slept, he knew, but hey, at least the essay was almost finished.

“Hey 2B, do you take cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. 2B was sitting on the couch with Lucifer, who had appeared from wherever he’d been hiding. At Dean’s question, though, 2B stood, eliciting a “myao” from the cat.

“Yes, please,” 2B replied, walking over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room. He had undone a few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie a little more, so it hung slightly more to the left. The bit of skin at the base of his throat, Dean noticed, was flushed, and there was a little colour in his cheeks too. Dean’s heart started to pound.

“It’s Castiel, by the way,” 2B continued. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What is?”

2B laughed. “My name. You keep calling me 2B. I’m Castiel.”

Dean felt a blush creep over his face and ears. God I need this coffee. “Oh. Castiel, huh? That’s a pretty unusual name.” He busied himself with making the coffee so Castiel couldn’t see him blushing at his own stupidity. It took him a full five seconds to remember in which drawer he kept the spoons. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. Which actually sounds boring next to Castiel.”

He liked the way the word felt rolling out of his mouth. Castiel.

“My family is … a little strange.” Castiel gave a dry smile, and a shrug. Dean slid his coffee towards him over the counter and wrapped a hand around his own mug.

“I kind of assumed you just came from a family of cats,” Dean teased. Castiel’s eyes narrowed.

They sat side by side on the couch, Dean cradling his coffee, and Castiel petting Lucifer, having placed his coffee carefully on the low table in front of them.

Watching Castiel’s hand moving over Lucifer’s smooth fur over and over, Dean felt a nagging sense of déjà vu. His pulse quickened a little. Lucifer was gazing at him intently.

Castiel shifted abruptly to reach for his coffee, and the spell was broken. With his thudding heart and a twang of adrenaline in his stomach, suddenly Dean was thinking of the box of cigarettes hidden in his dresser. It was rare for him to have a craving for a smoke, but there it was. And it had been a long night.

He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I smoke? I wouldn’t usually but …”

“Long night?” Castiel offered him an understanding smile, his eyes sparkling, as he sipped his coffee. He waved his hand, which Dean took to mean he didn’t mind.

The cigarettes were in the bottom drawer where he kept his dress shoes, a gun and a beaten-up scrapbook. He kept them in there because he hardly ever went in there – out of sight out of mind, after all, and for the most part it worked. He took a single cigarette from the packet, as well as the lighter that was stowed beside it. He stifled another yawn as he made his way to the window in the front room.

Dean pushed the window open a bit then moved the latch, which allowed him to prop it open wider. He leaned out a little and brought the lighter to the cigarette, brought the cigarette to his lips.

Click. Whshh. He inhaled and took the smoke back, deeply.

Castiel let his eyes focus on Dean’s mouth. A stream of smoke was pouring out, out of his mouth and out the window. Dean’s lips looked dry, and they wrinkled as he pulled on the cigarette again, blew out another lungful of smoke. His eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks. There was so much detail in his face Castiel could hardly bear it. Or perhaps it was just that Castiel was tired enough to notice too much detail. Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Dean’s face.

His eyes opened again, burning moss green. He was turning his face to look out over the road to the stretch of park beyond. Castiel could hear a dog barking.

The early sunlight gave Dean’s face and jaw a soft, golden glow. The front of his grey t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat in places, and the plaid shirt he wore over it was rolled up to the elbows, exposing sturdy, tanned arms. One of his hands rested on the window sill and the other held the cigarette just an inch from his lips. The fabric of his shirt rippled ever so slightly in the breeze, which was bringing in the scent of Dean’s cigarette. One of his bare feet was scratching the calf of his other leg. And Castiel’s stomach was full of butterflies, as it had been ever since Dean had brought Lucifer home the first time.

“Y’know, Cas,” Dean started, turning his head to look at Castiel, “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.” A smirk danced over his lips. Castiel’s stomach flipped and he glanced away, unsure whether Dean was joking or not.

Dean blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth towards the open window and chuckled to himself. Castiel was blushing, which really hadn’t been the intended effect of his joke. But dammit, it was cute. Having taken a last, long drag, Dean held the smoke in and flicked the spent cigarette out of the window into the road. He exhaled slowly, then closed the window up. He returned to the couch and picked up his coffee cup, draining it completely.

“Anyway,” said Dean, keen to change the subject to abate the tension. “Why did you have all those books?”

Castiel looked up from his cup, his eyebrows pulled down, lips slightly apart.

“For … reading,” he answered carefully.

“For reading,” Dean repeated, “Like reading for pleasure?”

“Yes.” Castiel took a mouthful of his coffee.

“But you had, what, twenty books?”

“Uh, eleven. But yes, I’m working my way through the theology and mythology sections of the university library.”

Dean straightened up. “You go to the university?” How have we never crossed paths before? he thought. He was sure he would have noticed eyes that blue and a smile that bright if he’d seen it on campus.

“Well, I work in the library, night shifts.” He gestured to the coffee and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “But I’m hoping to start my Master’s this fall.”

Dean whistled low; he was impressed. “And here sit I, a lowly undergrad.” Castiel chuckled at this.

Lucifer stretched and gave a few low, grumbly remarks, as if to remind them he was there. Draining the last of his coffee, Castiel stood.

“Lucifer’s right, the cats need their breakfast. Thank you for the coffee.”

Dean rose too, and held out a hand for Castiel to shake. “It was a pleasure.”

Castiel’s hand was soft but his grip firm. There was a little roughness to his palm, and the sensation reached right down to Dean’s toes and back again. His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn’t look away from Castiel’s intense blue eyes. They drilled though him in a way that made Dean think Castiel could tell exactly what he was thinking.

Their hands parted, their fingers brushing against each other. Dean tried a smile, and though it felt forced, Castiel smiled back. Dean exhaled. Lucifer meowed.

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