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#I FORGOT THAT THE FULL BODY TED IS SUPPOSED TO BE SAYING“I got a Big Deal right here for yah bay-bee”
cowardlykrow · 20 days
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that your KUNGFU MASTER taught you!
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ohheyitsokay · 3 years
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I don’t have a specific something to think about but just like
✨ Paz ✨
That’s it. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk 😌
Also I hope you’re having a good week with your relatives. And if it isn’t, then at least that it’ll be over quickly 🥺
Hellooo May! obviously I've been thinking about Paz because... you're right, ✨ Paz ✨
so first I got hit full in the heart with a fic about teaching post mando-displacement how to live in the galaxy as more than a Mandalorian, and showing him how to navigate... things, but
that sparked a whole other string of thoughts, of the reader living in the covert so those are under the cut :)
also thank you! honestly, me too. I hope you're doing well!
warnings: sexual content, afab reader
>>
I cant get over the idea that there are Mandalorian customs and traditions and superstitions and lore that are completely unwritten. Not 'the Way', but engrained little things that every culture develops.
Little Paz, child-sized helmet still gleaming, his eyes just as bright beneath it. Tugging on the beskar and gloves of the elders, respectful but curious. Watching over the shoulders of the craftsman and caretakers, absorbing all of it with awe, taking it greedily, adorably, making it his own. Asking questions like it's his job, learning the tribe, the mannerisms and history, soaking it all in like a sponge.
Taking Din, quiet and nervous, under his wing, pretending he knows it all. A student, and then teacher, a big brother, a budding Mandalorian.
And Paz, your giant, sweet, well-meaning love, teaching you as best as he can.
Tugging you close by the fire, face of his helmet mashing your ear as he eagerly whispers context to the stories, almost wiggling with that same child-like excitement.
Have you heard this story? Did you know?
Staying up late, wishing this covert location could see the stars so he could share their legends while pointing to their equivalent heavenly bodies. Holding your hand, aching in his chest because his two favorite things in the world - you and his people, are colliding. It makes him feel full of warmth and strength and raw energy like he could protect those two things against a galaxy of armies.
He whispers that he loves you in Mandalorian into the darkness.
Paz, sharing the little traditional things, embossing them onto your heart, making you bit by bit more a part of his home, part of his people.
"Cyar'ika, you have to use this seasoning for dinner," He seems nervous that you havent, already, a little annoyed that he forgot to tell you.
"Okay, but... why?"
"It - well, Leanna, the woman I told you about, she," he's not actually sure, but he saw it, remembered it on this dish, every single time.
You smile, and he presses his chest to your back, reaching around and taking a pinch in his big fingers.
"See? Like this," he rumbles proudly in your ear.
And you do.
Paz, sometimes forgetting you're not one of them, expecting you to know something, or thinking something is normal, and his earnest, confused shuffling as he realizes.
You kiss at his chest, his neck, telling him silently but loudly that you need him. Your love, tilting his head, desperately pushing you away, hurt that you would try to seduce him at a time like this.
"Love, why are you being cruel?" His tone is gentle, but genuinely a touch upset. "Must you tempt me during the Clean day?"
"What?" You're dumbfounded, arousal forgotten as you stare at him. There's something in his words the way he says it, something in the stiffness in his shoulders and the way he glances ove this shoulder like someone is watching.
And he sees the confusion on your face, and realizes you dont know. How could you?
Scolding himself, he tells you on wash days before they go on a big mission, he's supposed to fast, to hold himself above distractions, clothes cleaning and mind clear so he can be prepared. And old ritual, used for warriors to be intentional about their last few days, and make boundaries if they were were in grey situations. Not particularly necessary, but... he likes to do things right.
He holds you close, promises when the sun sets you can have him all to yourself. He'll make it up to you, of course he will.
Paz, falling more in love with you every moment that he sees you remember, trying to learn, because you know how important it is too him.
He came home later than he meant, but earlier than he told you. Poor execution for a surprize, but he can hardly wait to see you, knows you wont mind waking up for a few hours if it means having him in your bed again. But when he walks in he sees a candle lit, blue, he notices, a letter half burned with words for his safety. He didnt teach you that one, a sharp ache in his heart realizing you mustve asked someone else.
You wished for his safety, did all the little things the other partners promised would help. You cared about him, enough to learn, and enough to do it. He knew you loved him, heard you say it, saw it even but... this was for when he wasnt hear. This was a private love, something you didnt know if he would ever see.
He wondered, as he woke you with wanton kisses and hands taking every inch of your body for his own, if it was too soon to ask you to marry him.
Paz, creating traditions for just the two of you.
"Did you know that you always bring me gifts in threes?"
Your Mandalorian hummed, pausing his mouth against your core, two fingers buried inside of you. Propping yourself into your elbows, you enjoyed the pause, the sharpness of overstimulation smoothing over.
"Everything in threes. Flowers, kisses, ration packs," you explained, and he chuckled, removing his hands and sliding them up your body, moving his mouth against yours.
He had never thought about it but it felt.. right somehow, like an unintentional cornerstone to your relationship.
"I guess we need another round, then," he said, eyes glinting.
As you moan in disbelieving affirmation, he tucks the knowledge away. A new custom, for him and you.
<<
taglist:
@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz
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sobdasha · 3 years
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i’ve been rereading a lot of my favorite stuff for months now
since I'm lacking in spoons for library trips
And when I was cottoning on to the fact that I have, in fact, been autistic all along, one of the things I realized is that the connecting thread between the kinds of stories and kinds of characters that I like is in fact that they display autistic or autistic-adjacent traits. I had realized this, come up with a lot of examples. I knew this.
Haha yeah as I'm actually rereading the things the evidence is damning that I did not come even close to understanding the full depth of it.
~ Taucris Ithesta is Autistic and Other Adjacent Things re: Leckie's Novels ~
Actually let's start with The Raven Tower because you can't actually argue with me about autistic Siat.
Siat actively avoids eye contact, is """shy""", speaks too softly, has an excellent grasp of humor, likes rocks as a special interest, likes to collect rocks, likes to sort rocks, likes to line up rocks, has one (1) bff to conduct social interactions for her, notices patterns, is good at learning, and is considered disabled by society's standards.
Ughhhhh all that talk about rocks makes me sad all over again that I pitched my rock collection when I moved out (I saved the best fossils, though).
(ETA: I have since bought more rocks because polished gemstones with carvings on them make for great stims, I am very pleased with me)
Okay so now that that's been established, let's talk about Strength and Patience of the Hill.
Because this rock gets me. Originally I figured it was probably, y'know, like with Ancillary Justice Leckie's given me an ace-aro main character and I can identify with that as an ace-aro. But unlike Breq, who very much loves people and wants to take care of them and found family etc, Strength and Patience of the Hill doesn't give much of a shit about people. With some exceptions of people that are it's people, how dare you mess with them, Strength and Patience of the Hill will kick your ass. Although even then I'm not sure Strength and Patience is all that great at taking care of people. Also Strength and Patience of the Hill is very much absorbed in its own selfishness, very much consumed with his own internal world, and I am also a jerk like that so it was very relatable.
(Yes I am using multiple pronouns because one of my many favorite parts of the book signing was watching everyone scramble over pronouns for a rock because "It never came up so I never figured it out" and I'm pretty sure Strength and Patience doesn't even use pronouns because why would you need a gendered pronoun to refer to yourself??? You don't even need a name to refer to yourself, actually I'm pretty sure Strength and Patience doesn't actually consider itself to have a name.)
So it made sense that this rock just really gets me. I know it's bad when the majority of representation for ace-aro characters is stereotypical robots or rocks or aliens (oooh or sentient space rocks wait wAIT now that I've said that I've just realized the Myriad is the definition of a Crystal Gem, pffft) or whatever but honestly I don't care because I just really identify with the robots??? So I really liked it, YMMV.
(It's probably also bad if the trend for autistically-coded characters is just stereotypical robots or rocks or aliens or whatever too but like honestly a big autistic #mood is feeling like you are a robot or an alien or whatever so maybe that's why I'm not offended???)
My point being that Strength and Patience of the Hill displays a lot of autistic traits and is therefore very relatable, in this Ted Talk I will.
Strength and Patience of the Hill processes things slowly. She will come up with the perfect retort and tell you 5 years later with absolutely no context.
It loves daydreaming, staring at things, noticing patterns, and enjoying quiet and solitude. It loves thinking about why things are the way they are. Look I have fantasized about what if I could exist as just a pair of eyeballs and a mind floating around in space, observing things, thinking things, and not having to actually interact with the world, and I'm pretty sure this rock is living that life. (Until y'know it gets told life doesn't work like that.)
Despite his slow processing speed, and taking a while to learn language, Strength and Patience of the Hill is good at learning things, and I feel like it's the kind of sort-of-sideways, context-based accumulation of knowledge that I learn through as well.
Strength and Patience of the Hill has one (1) friend, and through the Myriad it benefits from the fact that the Myriad has an actual social circle, without having to put forth any effort of maintaining friends on its own, which is 100% the way to do it.
Strength and Patience of the Hill tends to attract the other "quirky" kids--that is, my impression is that the people who become his priests tend to be those people who look at the world a little differently, those people on the fringes. Trans people, autistic people, people with other disabilities.
Strength and Patience of the Hill trying to explain the state of affairs in Vastai to Eolo: "Okay so my first memory I can recall is…" No, okay, no, I know, it's just literally how the narrative has to be told, I'm not criticizing, but that doesn't make it any less reminiscent of "autistic person trying to explain a simple thing but starts in with 10 pages of context first to ensure the over-explanation makes sense" (haha that's why I consistently got stuck training endless new hires, I'm literally so bad at it that I'm the best in the department and I hate life).
Difficulty understanding other's feelings/points of view/circumstances (I know it's because he's a rock and a god but that doesn't make it any less relatable), hmmm what else…
Oh right, a typical interaction with Strength and Patience of the Hill:
Person: (gives offering) Strength and Patience: (offering is accepted because the transaction literally occurred, no need to respond) Person: "(asks petition)" Strength and Patience: ... Strength and Patience: wait Strength and Patience: what Strength and Patience: wait was I supposed to do something else Strength and Patience: did you ask something of me? Strength and Patience: I don't understand what you asked????? Strength and Patience: it's been an entire year now it's too awkward Strength and Patience: i'm sure it's. Fine. Strength and Patience: It's fine. (rinse and repeat)
Like I said, this rock gets me.
(Haha I was reading through my notes from the book signing and I found "Strength + Patience doesn't give a shit about balance, Strength + Patience is just selfish, which it manifests as apathy, which is why this rock gets me. All of my best interpersonal traits also spring from not giving a fuck and waiting ppl to go away faster lol" and why is that, oh because ~I'm~ ~autistic~ pfffft)
I started this post a while ago and this was as far as I got and I don't remember if I had more??? Time to talk about Taucris probably!!!
(I'm skipping Ancillary Justice etc for now because I do want to make a post about that but like there's just. So much. In those books. It's masking all the way down. So it can be its own post. One day.)
Because I waited so long I forgot what I was going to write so I'll just grab the book and flip through and comment as I see things.
To start off with: Taucris and adulthood. I've seen other people pick up primarily on the gender aspect of it--that Taucris waited until almost 25 to take her adult name because she she never figured out what her gender was (non- uhhhhhh what's the word for binary when it's three and not two? Non-tri-something Taucris in a society with 3 options but all 3 options are gendered? I'll go with that.) What really resonated for me was that Taucris waited until almost 25 to take her adult name because she never felt like an adult. And I get that ~everyone feels that way~ but I feel like it's Different for Taucris in the same way it's Different for me. Anyway I feel like no matter which aspect you choose, it's probably an autistic vibe.
Also Taucris seems to have a bit of a flat affect? She seems very serious (both in body language and in speech), and kind of intense sometimes when she talks, and Ingray notes how Taucris usually doesn't smile (she smiles with Ingray because Ingray makes her comfortable) and has always been """shy""".
Also Taucris...talks strangely? I am not sure exactly how to explain it. It's not written badly or anything, it's...you know how sometimes you suddenly sit back and look at dialogue and go no one speaks like this and it throws you out of the story because you dropped your suspension of disbelief? Taucris kind of gives me that feeling, and only Taucris. Almost like her speech is a little bit stilted? Awkward? She's very serious and matter of fact and says things like "You've always been so kind to me" with a straight face. But it doesn't feel like a """bad writing""" (quotation marks for subjectivity) thing. But I notice it every time I read her dialogue… I think it's just that Taucris is autistic and awkward and that's how she speaks. Also I think she's adorable.
Police work is Taucris' special interest. So much so that that's the entire reason she became an adult, so she could engage in her special interest better. She's ~weird~ for her single-minded interest and her interest in a job below her ~status~ and she doesn't care, she set her heart on this anyway, volunteering and interning so on.
Oh that was something else I was going to talk about--Taucris mentions feeling like she doesn't have her shit together, not like Ingray (who also doesn't feel she has her shit together. Kind of like "no one really feels like an adult). But Taucris seems quite calm and capable in Planetary Security. I don't know if this is just masking, but...I really hope that she does feel that way in her job. That because it's her special interest, that helps balance out the stress of being alive and simultaneously employed full-time. That because she's been volunteering and interning here so long, she's been familiar with the office and it wasn't a stressful transition. That she acts confident because she feels competent and respected. Taucris may look calm and cool and collected on the outside and be screaming on the inside but I hope she actually feels pretty good on the inside too.
I would also like to say that I like Taucris' nother. Despite what Danach implies, I get the picture from Taucris that e is supportive of Taucris' personality and interests even when e doesn't get it. E indulged her interest in police work, e didn't understand why Taucris wasn't taking an adult name but tried to be patient about it...so I assume that also means that e was understanding of all of Taucris quirks and stims and particularities. E's been a good support system while Taucris' peers have not.
(Except for Ingray, Taucris' one (1) friend.)
I like Taucris' relationship with Deputy Chief Veret too--the way Taucris quietly manages breakfast so e doesn't have to think about it or be put out (this is The Love Language to me, not being inconvenienced, and I feel that this is part of my personality because my personality is autistic, so). I don't know why specifically Taucris does this, but all the reasons I could come up with feel very wholesome. Taucris respects Veret as her boss and as a person. Taucris is empathetic and thoughtful (she doesn't like Danach but she tries to consider and understand where he's coming from; Taucris isn't Hatli but she considers Veret's fasting etc to be valid rather than a choice of superstition). Taucris' situation is different but she knows that it doesn't feel good to be treated as weird, to be sneered at because you don't act the way people expect you to. Taucris, being autistic, maybe has a lot of experience with "perfectly good foods" she won't eat. Taucris strikes me as someone who observes quietly, and considers carefully, and maybe takes a long time to make up her mind but when she moves it's deliberately and not carelessly. Which is, to me, a masking trait.
In the quantum version of this post I was going to write everything so polished and lay out my points so nicely but clearly that didn't happen and I don't know where to end this and I'm sure I didn't even explain things that well so I'll just say, I feel it was very autistic of Taucris in the last chapter to just be like "well IDK what you want from me and rather than expending massive effort trying to suss it out and guessing wrong I'll just be direct: I know you can't talk about what happened so I won't ask you about what happened unless you want me to ask you about what happened in which case you should say so and I will ask but I think maybe you just need to watch a movie with me instead."
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cynicalkairos · 5 years
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Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting
CHAPTER FIVE
Word Count: 3856
Warnings: Language, Mentions of Alcohol, Smoking, Self-Deprecation
Summary: Henry convinces himself to talk to Ted. Ted gets sober and makes a life-changing decision.
A/N: Oof, this took a while. Sorry about that. Life got busy and everything. But we’re finally there. Well, almost. Enjoy the angst (and fluff)
Previous || Next
—————
Henry knew that he loved Ted when he agreed to let Henry teach him how to dance. 
It was really uneventful. There was no swell of violins, rose petals falling across the room, fireworks shooting off in the distance. If anything, it was one of the most mundane moments, perhaps, ever.
Well, at the time.
To the Henry sitting alone on the secluded balcony with a lit cigarette in his hand, it was one of the happiest memories of his entire life.
It was more than playing the game of loving someone and deciphering whether or not they reciprocate your love, a game that Henry knew all too well. But it was different with Ted. There was no debate over his attraction to Henry based on countless words and actions that Ted said and did over the duration of their relationship.
And because of that, everything that had to do with Ted gave him a sort of…self-proclaimed meaning, one that he decided was his purpose and not thrust onto him by others. 
For a long time, Henry lived for one reason and one reason only: the apocalypse. After the deaths of his friends during college, he spent thirty years trying to find ways to stop it, find out when it was going to happen, and prepare for a life of survival. Henry felt guilty for not being able to prevent their demise, dealing with the pain through manufacturing a way to be the one who saved the day. And most definitely everything going according to plan without any help from anyone else.
With said apocalypse in full swing and demolishing the entirety of Hachetfield, Henry never expected Emma, four strangers, and one unconscious Infected to be at his door. And one factor he definitely did not theorize was falling in love with one of them. 
Good god, he thought Ted was just an annoying asshole who badgered him constantly until he sobered up and closed his goddamn mouth for once. On second thought, Henry was initially attracted to Ted, but it was more physically than to his personality or anything else. It was characteristics like his lean frame and dark hair that fed his attraction. Even then, he didn’t know if his attraction to him was genuine or if it was the result of isolating himself for so long that one encounter with another person sent him over the edge.
Despite his feelings and all of the action happening in the house and outside, he dismissed the provocative thoughts of Ted that invaded his head and repressed them. “Once it ends,” the professor told himself. “Once it all ends.”
Henry spent his days in the lab attempting to find solutions and, over the course of the times that he ascended from the depths of his house, he watched the love between Emma and Paul grow. Of course, he couldn’t lie to himself when he thought about wanting that type of a relationship with someone, but every time, he reprimanded himself for not focusing on the task at hand.
The initial disappointment throughout the entire situation was that it never ended. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and before any of them knew it, it was nearly six months later. 
Six months of Henry’s hopes and dreams crushed by reality. 
Six months of Henry wanting to return to his normal life, yet knowing he never could.
Six months of Henry suppressing his emotions in favor of working on a cure for the people who fell to the apocalypse that never was going to work. 
Henry sacrificed his entire life for what? Nothing. He missed out on finding love, being a parent, and starting a family just so he could chase the inevitable conclusion of failure. All of the things that he ever wanted out of life went to shit when the apocalypse destroyed the world around him.
Henry wallowed in self-pity for a couple more weeks with no hopes in finding happiness or any positivity from the outside world. He even replaced his usual turtlenecks and khakis with t-shirts and sweatpants, maybe jeans, out of complete negligence for his personal appearance. As an attempt to cheer him up, Emma used the information that Paul told her and weaseled the thought of Ted being interested in him. Henry didn’t believe her initially, but she assured him that Ted was interested in him of all people.
Then all of a sudden, those feelings returned to him in the same way a train would run over someone standing on the tracks. 
Before that point, all of the moments that Ted would spend in his lab with him didn’t faze Henry one bit. He didn’t think twice about Ted bringing him his coffee every morning just the way he liked it or sitting there quietly as he listened to his concerns or anything that was on his mind. He only realized that Ted was flirting with him and trying to “woo” him when thinking back on those times. 
The swirl of emotions that one conversation initiated engulfed Henry’s thoughts and effectively worked according to Emma’s plan to distract him from the current circumstances upon later reflection. All of his thoughts, no matter where they started, eventually wandered to Ted and, by this time, the attraction developed from the physical to everything about him.
He found himself laughing at Ted’s jokes, no matter how stupid or overused they were. Henry shared details about himself that not even Emma knew. Henry initiated more physical contact unconsciously, rather than deliberately like before. 
After two painful days of emotionally losing control over Ted, Henry’s mind was relentless. The only subject that played in his mind was everything about Ted. Ted’s outfit that day, the way Ted smelt, even Ted’s facial expressions when he thought no one was looking. Henry wanted his inability to focus on anything but Ted to disappear.
So, he figured he would just tell him. Simple as that. Blunt, straightforward (despite how gay the confession was), and to the point.
“I find you attractive,” Henry recalled himself saying bluntly to Ted in between the repeated inhalation and exhalation of smoke from his cigarette.
It was a decent day and under the mental and emotional stress he was in, Henry was smoking on the balcony with Ted standing next to Henry and drinking a beer. This was a typical occurrence. Looking out at the Hachetfield skyline allowed both of them to reminisce on the days when the apocalypse wasn’t destroying humanity. They talked some but it was always relatively quiet, disregarding the occasional clink of glass or the sound of the exhalation of smoke. 
When Henry said those fours words, Ted nearly choked on the beer and spat it out on the ground below them, avoiding death by beer. Once the coughing fit that ensued died down, Ted looked back at him to see Henry still calmly smoking his cigarette, as if nothing out of the ordinary was ever said. 
Henry only looked over to him when Ted didn’t respond and he witnessed a flabbergasted Ted, jaw dropped to the floor and a stain from the beer that he choked on. The professor’s facial expression only turned mildly concerned while he said, “What?”
Even though his confession wasn’t a big deal to Henry, he found out later that it was monumental for Ted. Ted was sputtering and manufacturing a reply, until he just uttered, “What the fuck?”
“What?” Henry asked, shifting his stance to lean against the railing, the cigarette still dangling from his lips. “Good god, Ted. Get yourself together.”
“Get yourself together?” Ted repeated, clearly still shocked by Henry’s proclamation. “Fuck, Henry. You said that I’m hot!”
“And?”
“‘And?!’ You can’t just do that to a man! What am I supposed to fucking do?”
To be completely honest, Henry had no idea how to respond. He hoped that Ted would, you know, feel the same way, but he would understand if he didn't. Henry was— well, older than he was and had grey hair. Despite his insecurities, he rather enjoyed the freedom of not withholding his emotions anymore, no matter what Ted’s response was.
“I don’t know,” Henry said, shrugging and taking another drag. “I was reluctant to theorize about the aftermath.”
“Why not?”
Henry stared at his cigarette longingly, tapping the ash of the end and letting it drift to the ground below. He then looked up at Ted and met his eyes for the first time since his proclamation. Ted’s eyes were darting all over the place, scanning his face, his hair, anything he could take in at that moment. 
“I was scared that you might not reciprocate my attraction.”
When Ted burst out laughing, almost dropping his beer in the process, Henry felt worried if Ted was okay or if his fears were coming true. Truth be told, laughter wasn’t on the list of responses that he expected. He didn’t know if Ted was mocking him or simply going insane.
“Are you fucking with me, Henry?”
“No—”
“I mean, why the hell would I not be into you?”
It was Henry’s turn to be shocked. The cigarette in his mouth fell and landed on his hand, leaving a small singe where it landed. Henry stamped the cigarette out, his eyes never straying from Ted’s. He watched Ted place his beer on the small table in the corner.
“Ted, I—”
“And just so you know, before you go and deny it, you definitely are so goddamn hot. Like when you traded your khakis for those jeans that one time— Wow.”
“Ted—” Henry attempted to protest and felt warmth flood his cheeks from the sudden compliment.
“Oh! And when you forgot to straighten your hair—”
Ted didn’t get a chance to finish his compliment to Henry when Henry cupped the sides of Ted’s jaw and silenced him with a kiss. He felt Ted still and then two arms wrap themselves around Henry’s waist, drawing him closer.
Henry could remember every detail from that kiss. The feeling of warmth emitting from Ted’s body, the taste of alcohol on his tongue, the brush of coarse hair from his mustache and stubble, even then he wouldn’t deny that he wanted more. To Henry, it felt…right, as if everything in his life was leading to this one moment. He never asked Ted about his experience from that kiss, but he probably did something right because there were more after. 
After a few seconds, Henry separated himself from Ted reluctantly. He stepped back against the railing and shoved his hand in the inside pocket of his coat, scouring the space for another cigarette and his lighter. Once Henry found them, he lit one hastily and took in an inhale of smoke to ease the rapid beating of his heart. After another deep breath, he glanced over to see Ted slowly open his eyes again and locking with his own. Henry averted his gaze in embarrassment of being caught staring and toyed with the cigarette, taking a long drag.
“Henry, you just fucking kissed me.”
“Yeah,” Henry chuckled as smoke trickled out of his mouth, looking back at his cigarette to stop Ted from seeing him blush. “I suppose I did.”
Ted laughed with Henry joining in after a second. Ted took a few steps closer to Henry and took the cigarette out of Henry’s hand, extinguishing it in the ashtray. Henry then watched as Ted gently traced his fingertips along his arms.
He never thought that he would get this far. Henry believed that he would chicken out or never say anything, but not this. Here, he held Ted, he kissed Ted, he began the road of doing something he wanted to do for a long time. Henry couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t understand what Ted saw in him to even be in the room. Because of the way Ted talked about Henry, Henry figured he must’ve been a fraction of a bit attractive to Ted to get his attention.
Ted pulled Henry out of his thoughts when Henry noticed that his hands were on his jaw. Henry met Ted’s eyes and felt himself smile and blush even more. “Good god, Ted.”
Ted responded with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. “What is it?”
Henry placed his hands onto Ted’s shirt and gripped it tightly, balling the fabric up in his fists. He looked at his own fist, before meeting Ted’s eyes once more. “You’re such an idiot. You know that, right?”
“But I’m your idiot.”
“Yes, yes, you are.” Henry sighed dramatically and pulled Ted closer, a wide smile forming on his face. They gazed at each other for a moment. Looking back at it, it was the moment when Henry realized how stunning Ted’s eyes looked in the sunlight. Before, he only saw them in the fluorescent lights of his lab or everywhere else in the house. The sunlight accented the spots of honey in Ted’s irises that the lights inside the house masked through the terrible lighting.
“Are you gonna kiss me or keep staring?” Ted asked, intruding on Henry’s thoughts.
Suddenly, Ted’s lips crashed into his own, preventing Henry from responding.
Henry remembered the kiss that ensued was one of the best that he ever had, even though there were not many competitors for the title. The kiss quickly escalated from gentle pecks and soft caresses to deep kisses and needy touches. Soon enough, Ted tugged on Henry’s lip, asking for entry, which Henry gave immediately. Teeth clashed and, after Henry untucked Ted’s shirt, he grasped onto Ted’s hip in a way that was bound to leave bruises later. Meanwhile, Ted gripped onto Henry’s hair, hearing a muffled moan come from Henry’s mouth.
Being pinned against the railing didn’t stop Henry, though. Henry moved one of his hands onto Ted’s ass and gripped tightly, bringing him closer. The instant connection between the two caused them to separate, the feeling almost too much for either of them.
As the adrenaline of the situation drifted away, Henry took in several deep breaths and accessed his— well, compromising position. 
Henry was leaning onto the railing of the balcony, hand still on Ted’s ass that, from this point forward, was never going to leave. Ted leaned his head onto Henry’s shoulder, seeming like he was trying to hide the bright blush on his face from Henry, but in reality, was seizing the opportunity to plant more kisses on his jaw. 
Reminiscing over that moment, Henry couldn’t help but think about how fucking gorgeous Ted was in that position. With his hair sticking up in many different directions, his shirt severely wrinkled and untucked, and the red tint that his face acquired from either the lack of oxygen or the intensity of making out with someone, Ted looked almost…ethereal.  
Almost two months later, Henry stood in the same position, watching that moment replay over and over in his head. It was the catalyst to the beginning of their relationship and their inevitable fight. 
He was standing alone, watching the cigarette burn down into a pile of ash and trying to convince himself to do the unthinkable: talk to Ted.
Of course, it seemed a lot more daunting than those words let on. The possibilities were endless regarding how badly he could fuck everything up. He could say the wrong thing and initiate another fight. He could chicken out at the last minute and never talk to him, hindering what little relationship Henry believed they had left.
Henry knew that everyone was right. He had to do it at some point in time. He longed for Ted in his heart, but every time he wanted to go search the house for Ted, his mind told him that Ted would break up with him. He would rather not talk to him and remain together than talk to him and lose him forever.
Henry missed waking up to Ted’s outrageous bed head and the warm feeling of having his arms wrapped around Ted. He missed the random conversations that Ted’s mind manufactured and their constant use of cheesy pick-up lines that made each other blush. He missed each gentle touch, kiss, and word that they shared. 
Fuck, he was in deep. 
Henry was so in love with him that it hurt thinking of him and not being able to be near him.
Well, you could. His heart whispered. All you gotta do is talk to him.
Henry chuckled at the proposition. It was really that simple. He knew it was. The idea kept circling around his head for a reason and it was because of its simplicity. 
You know what would happen. His mind replied. You would just fuck it up like everything else in your life.
As much as it hurt, his mind was right. He would fuck it up. Henry fucked up his life with his Workin’ Boys then and fucked up his life with Ted now. 
Once the cigarette in his hand was rendered to a pile of ash, he blew the contents away into the surrounding air, watching as it disappeared into oblivion. Henry dusted off his hands and wiped them on his pants. 
Then a notion struck him.
What if he just…disappeared? Then he would never have to have that fated conversation.
He shook the thought from his mind when he realized that Emma would drag his ass back here to stop him from avoiding it.
He rubbed his temples with one hand when his head began to throb from the abundance of emotion. Henry sat down and closed his eyes, leaning his head in his good hand. Combined with the pain in his hand, he wished that something would just numb all of the pain, whether it be physical, emotional, or mental.
Henry could hear Emma chastise him, saying, “You’re making things too complicated.”
Usually, he would never listen, but this time, he took her advice.
How did Henry confess his feelings to Ted? Simply.
If it worked once before, it might work again. 
To win back Ted, he just needed to be extremely blunt. 
Fuck you, mind. He thought, giving his conscience a mental middle finger. I’m gonna get my Ted back.
Henry stood up abruptly, regretting that decision immediately when another pang of pain spread throughout his hand and head. He groaned and moved to exit the balcony.
Expecting to have some time to prepare his words, he froze when he saw Ted standing in the living room, staring back at him.
Oh, fuck.
— — — 
While Henry was having an existential crisis on the balcony, Ted hyped himself up in the mirror. 
To give an accurate description of Ted’s mental status, imagine any teenage coming-of-age movie when the teen was getting ready for a date. Cheery, uplifting music and dancing montages, the whole package.
The only differences were that Ted was a middle age man and this was the apocalypse; everyone in that house abhorred music by that point. 
A newly sober Ted regarded himself in the mirror. His hair was still wet from the shower and he actually didn’t look absolutely disgusting for the first time in a week. 
Ted no longer reeked of alcohol but of some fruity body soap that Ted found in the cabinet. His hair wasn’t matted with sweat to the point that it was almost glued to his head. 
Sure, he had to chug about four glasses of water to avoid dehydration, but he felt better than before. 
The lack of alcohol really helped with helping him process what he was going to say and— well, everything that happened. (Shocking. I know.) Drunkenness didn’t really favor the thoughtful. 
He spent so much time wallowing in the thought that Henry was in the wrong and should apologize that he neglected to put some of the blame on himself. 
Henry wasn’t selfish and did things for himself. He always had others in mind. When Henry went out into Hachetfield alone, albeit it was a stupid decision, he did it so that none of the other occupants in the house would get hurt or die. He risked his life for the good of the people around him, not himself. 
In conclusion, Henry did what he thought was right and necessary and Ted got angry about it.
When he saw the “blue shit” left unattended, anger bubbled from deep within him and he acted irrationally. He couldn’t help but toss it out. His Henry could have died because of that. 
It wasn’t okay. His actions were not okay. He regretted saying every hurtful word, pushing Henry and everyone else away, and most importantly, hurting Henry.
He could never erase the look of pure despair when he looked back and saw Henry on the verge of tears. 
He could never forget the sound of Henry smashing his hand against the counter and the crunch of the bones from the strong force.
Even in his drunken state, Ted heard everything. Every shout of pain, every curse to himself and others, every angry outburst from Henry. It only made him drink more and cry harder when he realized that it was his fault that Henry was like this.
Ted’s heart shattered more and more every time. 
But now in his sober state, his love for Henry and his desire to fix everything only grew by the second. He was itching to simply be in the same room as him again. 
Ted looked in the mirror at the final thing preventing him from hunting Henry down and apologizing to him.
His beard.
He neglected to shave while he was drunk, but now, he was faced with doing so. He could never talk to Henry with such horrible thing growing on his face.
Ted looked at the razor and picked it up slowly, looking at it.
He could go back to his typical mustache, but he needed something new. Something to show to Henry that he’s committed to moving on from their fight and embracing their future.
Fuck it. He thought. I’m gonna shave it. All. Of. It.
Before he could change his mind, he put the razor down and lathered on shaving cream over his entire beard.
Then he picked up the razor, examining it.
Finally, he made the first shave.
It already started. There was no turning back now. 
Ted slowly watched as with every swipe of the razor, remnants of the days wallowing in self-pity went away. 
Soon, he was clean-shaven. Ted had no idea if Henry would like it, but it was worth a shot. It was certainly something that he hadn’t done in years by now. 
He ran his hand over the smooth skin and smiled. I don’t look too awful.
Ted rinsed off the sink and washed the hair down the drain, running the razor under the water as well.
He patted his cheeks with aftershave and quickly posed in the mirror, boosting his self-confidence.
Ted was determined to win the love of his life back, no matter what it took.
(I mean, seriously. The man shaved off his mustache.)
—————
A/N: I hope you enjoyed that. This shit show of a work is almost done. There’s one more chapter left. Feel free to like and comment. I really appreciate all of the support.
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wiggly-blue-shite · 5 years
Text
Chapter 6 The Bell Doesn’t Dismiss You (Tedgens)
I get out of history and head to my next class. History is always boring. I know no one in that class. Well, I know people in that class but I don't like anyone in it. I also fucking hate studying history. Like I don't give a shit about how Napolean died.
While I walk to my next class, I have the sneaking suspicion I'm being watched. Y'know that feeling when you can feel eyes on the back of your head? Yeah, that.
I turn around to see if I can spot the person staring at me. There. Oh, it's just Henry. I smile and wave at him. He probably feels a little awkward for being caught staring. Acknowledging him might make him feel a little bit better. Henry turns bright red. Aw, that's a little cute. He waves back.
We pass each other without actually saying anything to each other. I want to say hi, or like tell him how good he looks in that outfit today. He doesn't usually dress like that so he should know it's a good choice. It like outlines him. You never really think about how in shape dancers are. I can feel his eyes on me and for some reason I get nervous. Knowing that I was him staring at me, made my hands a little sweaty.
That's weird.
I step into Art and go take my spot next to Paul. We're only taking Art this year because it sounded like fun and we didn't what else we would do. It's just some painting and it doesn't even need to be that good and you can still get a good grade. Easy A. It's a really fun class.
"Hey, what's up." I pat Paul's back. He laughs a little. He's already working on our next project. We have to do an abstract painting that shows our true emotions, or something. It's a nice sketch. Paul's actually not that a bad painter, don't tell him I said that though. Comments like that would go straight to his head.
"Not much man, not much." He continues to work on his sketch. It's pretty swirly and cool looking. "You?"
"eh," I shrug and take a seat in front of my easel. Now time to do some art! Yeah. Easier said than done. I really don't know what to do. I have the feeling of being watched again. I look around again to try to see if anyone is looking at me. No one is.
His lips were so red. His skin is so clear. His hair was great. And wow, why am I thinking about him. Need to think about something else. PAINTING!
The teacher is walking around. She walks up to me and Paul. She's always really supportive of everyone's are and she's understanding when you don't know what to do. I wish all my teachers were like that.
"That's a great start, Paul." I can tell she redirected her attention to my blank canvas, "having some trouble Ted?"
"Yeah, I guess." I'm not the most in tune with my true emotions.
"Well, how are you feeling? I know that's a loaded question."
I honestly have no clue. I guess I still have that feeling of being watched. But I don't really know how to paint that. Abstract paintings are so weeeird.
"How do you paint the feeling of being watched?" She's the art teacher here, she should know what she's doing.
"You mean paranoia?"
Well, paranoia is supposed to be negative though right. This feeling isn't really that negative.
"Not really, I don't know how to explain it."
"Explain it through your art." She's a cool teacher, but every once in a while she'll say something like that. Yup, this really is an art class.
I'll just draw some squiggles and make it into something later.
LUNCH TIME! The best part of the day. I just get to chill out and not deal with bullshit assignments and bullshit people!
Paul and I meet up with Bill and Charlotte at our usual lunch spot. The English building tree! It's this lumpy old tree that doesn't give off much shade but it's cool looking.
"Here you go!" Bill makes me lunch everyday. I don't really have any food at home, and the lunches they serve here are inedible. And Bill wants me to eat so he brings me some food.
"I'm ok without lunch." He's a little too kind sometimes.
"No fuck that you need to eat." Bill shoves the food into my hands. I actually really like the food he brings me. But he doesn't need to know that.
I dramatically spread out my jacket to sit on.
"One of these days I'm going to bring a picnic blanket." Paul sits down and opens the little lunch he has. "So in Art right now we're doing this really abstract thing and I really want to work in a dick in there somewhere."
"Mrs. Hawthorn wouldn't notice." Or she wouldn't care. She's a real hippie. Pretty sure she's come to school high a couple of times. I mean they call it HIGH school for a reason! Public school really is a tragedy.
"That's true." Charlotte has Mrs. Hawthorn fifth period I think.
Paul's staring at something, a smile creeps on his face. I follow his gaze and... yup! Emma and Henry. Why are they here? I'm not complaining, they make good company.
"Hi Emma!" Paul's like a little lap dog. You can almost see his tail wagging.
Emma sits herself down next to Paul. Paul shifts a little so his arm is behind Emma, almost around her.
Henry on the other hand kind of looks around nervously. That outfit might make him look a little intimidating, but he's still a dork. In a good way!
Bill pats the ground in between me and him, signaling for Henry to sit down. Henry sits down on the ground. No wait, those pants are going to get dirty. That sucks.
Bill pats the ground in between him and Ted, signaling me to sit there. So I plop down there. I didn't bring a jacket so I have nothing to sit on, but that's fun.
"Damn if I knew you were gonna be here I would have brought an extra jacket." I really would've, to save those pants. Paul really should bring a picnic blanket.
"No it's fine." No it's not! Nice clothes should be taken care of.
"I love your makeup." Charlotte does enjoy doing crazy makeup. Sam always says some bullshit about her looking a whore. So when Charlotte's not with him she get's to express herself more.
"Thanks!" Henry's eyes light up. He's pretty cute. His punk clothes can't fool me.
"I could never rock an outfit like that." I wish I could. I don't have the body for it. Henry on the other hand...
I can appreciate someone's looks without...
Whatever.
"Sure you could!" Henry smiles and laughs a little. He knows I wouldn't he's just being nice.
"Wow I can't even imagine Ted in full makeup." Bill laughs. That sounds so bad. I'm too messy everything would be smudged so quickly.
"I'm sure Henry would love to do your makeup." Emma suggests. Oh god that will be a mess. But hey it'd be a good story.
"Sure I'm down." I shrug. It would be fun.
"Yeah ok." Henry's blushing. I made him blush. That's...
"Yay!" Emma claps. I don't remember her being this upbeat. I thought she was more cynical. I don't know her that well I guess.
"Hey any word on the school play?" Paul doesn't give a shit. He just wants to make conversation.
"Nope. I think we're just going to be left in the dark until the week of the audition." Wow he really does care. "It's not going to be a Shakespeare show, because we did Shakespeare in the fall."
"Does that mean it's going to be a musical" Paul looks like he's trying to hide his disgust. I have no clue where his hate for musicals comes from, but it's kind of funny.
"Probably." Henry shrugs.
Paul groans. It really is funny how much he hates them. Like really, we have to force him to see Disney movies. It's a Disney movie like they're all good.
"Well I'm excited for it." Bill smiles. Bill and I have been going to school plays for a while. When I had a crush on Zoey, before she got with Sam, we started going because I thought she would notice me in the audience I guess. We still go because they're pretty good productions. They're all pretty good actors.
"Thanks!" Henry smiles awkwardly. He seems confident, I never would have imagined him being this awkward.
"Those shows always look like so much fun." I know I really enjoy seeing them. Even the sadder shows they've done seem fun. Henry and Norah always seem to light up when they're talking about it.
"You should audition." I hadn't even thought of that. "I mean you don't have to, we don't even know what the show is yet. But it is really a fun experience regardless of show. Though it is baseball season, and I know you're on the baseball team. Splitting time between the show and sports might be stressful."
Oh yeah, baseball season is starting. I get to be stuck in in practice with Sam and Coach Dickwad. I've already gotten all my PE credits. I don't need to take a sport to get out of PE anymore.
"Oh shit I totally forgot about baseball." There is no reason for me to stay in it, "if I'm being honest I might quit baseball. The coach is a dick, he-who-shall-not-be-named is on the team now, and I don't even enjoy it that much." I don't know why there's a silence. It's really not a big deal.
"Well there's alway seats open in theatre club." Henry smiles weakly. He's kind of like Paul, he can barely stand awkward social situations.
Imagine that. Ted Richards front and center stage in front of all the school. Fucking performing a monologue or something.
"I do not belong on stage." I'm 100% not a performer, "Charlotte knows what I'm talking about, my singing voice is awful." Charlotte giggles. That karaoke session was a hot mess but I do not regret a second of it.
"You don't have to sing. There's other aspects of theatre, y'know."
Well of course I know it's not just singing, but my singing alone should be enough to drive me away from the stage.
"You could be a techie!" Emma gasps. Based on Henry's expression I'm guessing that's a good fit for me.
A techie? Is that like a... robot thing?
"I don't even know what that is." Ted chuckle. I'll go along with what he says. He's the professional kind of. The
"You basically work backstage." Ah Ted backstage so no one can see my hideous face. "The show hasn't even been announced yet so there's not really any desperate need for techies. But I- We'd be so happy to have you!"
Did he say "I"? As in like "I'd be happy to have you,"? Am I looking to into this? I mean he's the one who said it. But why did he say it? Why do I care, it's not like it effects me.
"I mean if I end up quitting, I'll have nothing better to do." I shrug. I will definitely be quitting. And this looks like fun! And I want to do something I might actually enjoy.
And the bell rings. Paul and Emma take their leave, hand in hand, without a goodbye. They're a cute couple but like Jesus Christ. Bill and Charlotte are at least cool enough to wave goodbye.
I brush the grass of the jacket I was sitting on. I can see some of the dirt on Henry's ass. I should have brought a picnic blanket, I will tomorrow.
"Hey, if you'd like I can talk to Mrs. Murray about it."
Oh sweet this is like actually happening. I'm gonna get to see the inner working of a play! Not that it could be that complicated. I shouldn't start until I know I'm definitely out of baseball though.
"Well I need to quit baseball first." I pat Henry's shoulder, he tenses up. Huh... sturdy. "I'm looking forward to the makeover, see you later." I hope we actually do that. It'd be fun.
"Bye!" Henry calls out after me. My stomach flips. That's so weird.
I turn around to catch one last glimpse of him. He's off the theatre room probably. What am I doing, Looking at another guy like that.  I can't help it though.
That's so weird.
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