Tumgik
#even though I had pride flag pins and flags and clothes and stuff in his presence for years and even though I go to an all women’s college
kkatsukiswife · 2 years
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trans bakugou x reader
Warnings: intense talk about romantic feelings and society and the characters could be interpreted as aromantic? idk but they are asexual that’s established even though it doesn’t do much for the plot they just are
a/n: I couldn’t sleep :p also I’m working on the Bakugou’s house plans I’ll probably be posting them in a few weeks
Think about the Bakugou’s opening a sort of thrift store except it’s not really a store, it's in their garage. They sell second hand clothes and some other stuff, some of it isn’t even old or used, there are pieces of clothing they’ve designed and tailored for fun and have ended up there. Everything’s suuuper cheap, they don’t really need the money and they want people to dress well so there’s really no reason for them to up the prices.
Their garage is decorated with pride flags of all sexual orientations, they don’t know half of them but their son an his friends do so they like them. Obviously they make Bakugou work for them during weekends, the moody blond isn’t a fan of working at customer service at first but then he meets you.
You discovered their little garage sale one day walking around your neighborhood, the pretty house stood out in between the tall buildings and caught your attention. You haven’t been able to stop visiting ever since.
Mitsuki notices the blushy glares his son sends your way as you rummage through the clothes, looking for the perfect shirt to match the outfit in your head. That woman instantly becomes your wingman. She’s always giving accesorios to you for free, offering you her help as a fashion designer and complimenting your looks.
Bakugou hates it. He hates how much of a meddling old lady his mom is, assuming he likes you only because she once caught him doing a double take at you. So what if he did? You were trying on a pair of pants and he wanted to make sure they suited you, he was just doing his job.
You aren’t blind and you will admit Bakugou is a nice looking man, with his broad shoulders and piercing eyes. He’s got a dry sense of humor, and he’s not very friendly, but he is very helpful with the shop and he’s a good son, that you can tell. His mom’s attempts at setting you up haven’t gone unnoticed either. She’s always ready to throw his son under the bus and tell you how pretty he thinks you are, making the 20 year old rage.
You and Bakugou don’t talk much, everything you know about him you do because of his parents. Yeah you’ve had your few share of interactions but they’re mostly short and meaningless.
“Here’s your change”
“Thank you, I like your bracelet”
“Thanks, it was a birthday gift”
“Hey, I’m gonna buy these”
“This green top would go really well with a bucket hat”
“You got any?”
“Sure I’ll show you”
“Hi, how are you?”
“Fine, you taking that?”
“Yep”
You’ve seen him around the neighborhood shopping for groceries, he’s got a backpack with a few pride pins on it from which you were able to identify the trans flag colors. You also know he’s in college, but you have no idea what his major is.
It all changes one Saturday afternoon, you are at the Bakugou’s looking for a cool looking purse when Mitsuki asks you to cover her “shift” the next week. Bakugou isn’t happy when he hears you agree, he knows his mother very well, as much as he knows there is no need for your help. He can manage on his own.
The following days pass by and before you know it it’s Saturday morning, and you’re on your way to your neighbors’. Bakugou is already there, hanging up clothes and tidying up the place a little bit. He greets you with a tired look on his face and starts giving you orders.
After attending a few customers, you’re left sitting next to him in silence for a few minutes. That’s when you start thinking about the way he’s been treating you the whole morning, and you get mad.
“You know if you really don’t want me to be here I can just go.” There’s no introduction, you spit out just what you’re thinking.
Katsuki is slightly taken aback by the confrontation, he never expected you to try to put him in his place. He also didn’t realize he was being mean.
“I’ll just tell your mom I was feeling sick, I really don’t mind not getting paid but I can’t stand you being such a dick you know?” He feels his heart drop when you say those words to him, and just as you start to rise from your seat he grabs you by the wrist.
“No please, I’m sorry” He feels so weird, he can’t believe he’s apologizing to you so easily. “I didn’t mean to be rude it’s just that-tch you know my mom” he wants to kick himself for hiding behind what seems like a lame excuse, but it’s the truth, “she’s been trying to set us up and I wouldn’t fucking cooperate so she came up with this. I mean we both know not many people shop here, or even know about this shop, so you being here to “cover her shift” was just a shitty excuse to get us to spend some alone time together.” He’s not sure whether to stop right there or keep going, he wants to explain himself so badly but he doesn’t know why. “It’s not that I don’t want- that- but I just don’t do these types of things really. It drives me fucking crazy how people can just go up to someone they don’t know and ask them out, why would anyone do that? What could possibly make you want to get to know someone romantically if you don’t even know them as a friend?” His words are ones he's thought about many times before, but they don’t come as soft and fragile as they sound in his head. “I don’t know, I guess this whole romance thing isn’t for me, at least not the way it’s supposed to be. Who would take the fucking time to become friends with someone, get to know them knowing there’s a possibility for romantic feelings to develop but without any assurance? Hm? Only a fucking idiot.” His eyes stay fixed on the soles of his shoes, not daring to look you in the eye and find a horrified expression at his sudden outburst. “Plus, all people our age want to do these days is fuck and run away from commitment so, even if I wasn’t so fucking sappy it wouldn’t work out”
You look at him for a moment, actually you’ve been staring at him for a while now. He looks a little different, a little sad. His ears are red and his head is hanging low, two body expressions you’d never thought you’d see on him.
“ I get it though. It is weird how people can just look at someone and go, hey! they’re really cute, I’ll ask them out on a date! And not because it’s wrong, like I get it because I grew up in this world but still. It 's weird.” Bakugou shifts in his seat at your answer, wondering if you’re saying all of that out of pity or if you really feel that way. “You know, I usually get mad when people flirt with me.” It’s out, you said it and there’s no going back. He’s a little lost and you can tell by the downward twist of his lip. “I mean, at first it happened when boys flirted with me so I thought it was normal, cause most boys don’t know how to flirt without making it creepy. But then girls started flirting with me as well and I found myself frowning and wanting to run away. For a while I thought that maybe I was aromantic, I had already discovered I was asexual so I guess it made sense. Turns out I’m not, it’s just the way people flirt that makes me uncomfortable.” You smile at him and hope that he knows you understand him.
“Hm, yeah people are fucking useless.” He says and you both laugh. “It’s also kinda hard to tell if the flirting holds sexual intentions or not as well, so sometimes it’s better to not do it at all.”
“I flirt sometimes, or at least I think I do. The other day I was at a cafe, and there was this very pretty girl at the register and she was wearing pins of my favorite band. I didn’t want to take her out, or ask her to be my friend either, I wanted to date her but I knew there wasn’t enough history between us for that to even become a possibility in my mind. I still wanted to let her know she was pretty, so I flirted. I looked her in the eyes after paying for my order and smiled, but like a flirty smile not a polite smile. And nothing happened, but to me that was very romantic and it was enough.” Your cheeks are burning and now it’s you the one staring at the ground. Bakugou starts laughing loudly.
“For fucks sake, we’re never gonna get a partner aren’t we?” That’s what he says once his laughter has died down. Now it’s your turn to laugh.
“ I hope I do, but if I don’t it’s fine. It’s not my top priority.” Katsuki nods and a customer walks in.
“Yeah, mine neither.”
He knows his mom will be so disappointed at cupid once she’s back.
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totopopopo · 3 years
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If I bring my friend to family vacation it’ll be weird bc my friend uses my nonbinary pronouns because she’s great, but my extended family is not aware of my lack of gender. I’d generally be fine w them knowing bc I don’t rly give a shit but like, my uncle has the gender and sexuality knowledge of a fucking pimple and I don’t.,,, want to have that fucking conversation
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kunikuzxshi · 3 years
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Can I please request for LoV content though this time the reader isn’t anyone’s s/o per say, just like everyone’s mama in a sense, always being the one who care for them and give them love, big spooning, cuddle, help them with various stuff. And because they are ‘LoV mama’ they are quiet dominant and everyone listens to them and respect them. Can I get headcannons for LoV interactions with her? And if possible for another post a sequel of how they will react when they found out that she has a lover who basically babies her and she likes it too. How will they react? Will they treat her differently? Jealous? Thank you so much!!!!! 💕💕💕💕
Awwwww 🥺 just let me know if you want me to tag you whenever I do the other post ❤️ it got really laggy before I could add more so… :’)
Just some small stuff, I’ll do like one shots and the other thing in another post or two if you want me to tag you or somethin lol
Part 2
Kurogiri
Lemme tell you right now, he is absolutely relieved because now he’s got someone else to “babysit” the league
He finally feels comfortable enough to have a day just to himself
^ He’s just happy he doesn’t have to constantly worry about Dabi burning down their base, or Shigaraki turning Toga to dust
He’s kind of like a kid in a way
^ Like he’s looking for praise in a way, but not really
Encourage him when he’s doing a good job
Let him vent when a certain brat pisses him off
And PLEASE help him discipline said brat
^ He will literally beg you, just do it please
He definitely appreciates you the most out of everyone
He likes getting a pat on the back when he’s doing a good job, or even just having a drink with you when “handjob” is finally asleep I had to I’m sorry I love that nickname so much
You’ve got either really insulting nicknames or really sweet ones for everyone in the league, but you guys only use them when it’s just you two
You guys randomly get Magne pride stuff, like the transgender flag or those pins you find everywhere during pride month
^ Sometimes Toga too
^ And you if you’re part of it, but he goes without you if it’s for you, because then it wouldn’t be a surprise
He likes head pats but that’s all he’s comfortable with
Shigaraki
Ok, he’s definitely a bitch to you too
^ at first at least
In general, he didn’t really like people and his tolerance for everyone was pretty low for a long time
The only people he interacted with were the same few people, and they basically spoiled and groomed him, so it takes him the longest to warm up to you
He doesn’t like being told no, so expect him to act like a toddler when you tell him he can’t do something
He does kind of like having another decent parental figure even though in his head afo’s a good dad
He might invite you to go with him to GameStop or something like that
^ Or maybe just to grab a quick snack from a ramen shop or something along the lines of that
He’s somewhere between a moody teenager and a four year old, just remember that
Please don’t get mad at him, he feels bad after an hour or two
^ Kurogiri has to make him apologize for whatever he did though because he’s too stubborn to do it himself
He lets you pick out one of his good controllers and headsets so you can play with him in your own room, or with him, he doesn’t mind
Once he’s fully comfortable with you, he’s clingy as hell
Always asks for hugs or head scratches, most likely both
He tries his best not to snap at you like he does with everyone else, and he probably has the most patience with you
He doesn’t really cuddle with you since it’d be a little weird if you guys aren’t dating, but he does hug you from behind every once in a while
Likes to be close to you in general
He likes when you take care of his scars and wounds for him, or when you get him to stop scratching his neck
^ Cause it shows you care, and he doesn’t really think anyone really does except for Kurogiri and AFO
Probably the touchiest one
Expect to be giving him some form of attention every second, whether it’s talking to him or just holding his wrist
Probably the one that enforces your rules honestly (if you have any)
Basically he’s a simp, but like the platonic kind of simp
Dabi
Dabi’s a bit like Shigaraki
It does take him a bit to open up, but only about half the amount of time it takes Shigaraki to
He does feel bad when you get mad, and it takes him about the same amount of time to feel guilty
He definitely invites you to go places with him, but it’s usually a bar or a good spot to commit arson
He’s basically a moody teenager, that’s it, so he’s at least manageable
Sometimes he goes with you to get snacks or drinks (soft drinks basically), but if he does, expect to be the one paying
Might give you a cigarette every once in a while if you smoke, and he always offers to light it for you
He definitely likes to vent to you about his day, or how Shigaraki’s been bugging him more than usual
^ It’s mainly because you’re the only one that listens though mainly
^ He still appreciates it though, don’t get it wrong
One of his favorite pastimes is to walk around the city at night with you and maybe Kurogiri
He’s not very touchy in general, so don’t expect anything more than a pat on the back
Sometimes though, if you want a hug or something he’ll let you get one from him
He’s still not touchy at all, so don’t ask for very much
^ Lemme put it this way, expect more from pretty much everyone else except him
Spinner
He always runs to you about Dabi picking on him for his quirk when Kurogiri’s not around
Sometimes he asks you to play a game with him, but not very often
^ Even Shigaraki probably asks more than Spinner does
He’s pretty quiet with you most of the time, and he won’t usually talk to you unless you start a conversation
^ Basically he only talks to you when he needs to
He’s not exactly the kind of guy that’ll go out for food with you since his quirk makes him pretty easy to spot, but he does offer to help cook every once in a while
He likes to show you his collection of knockoff stain clothing
He has made efforts to try to get to know you more, but he’s a little shy
Get him Stain merch and you’ll automatically be his favorite out of everyone in the league
^ Shigaraki might kill you though, just a heads up
Don’t touch him unless you’re treating his wounds, he’s worse than Dabi is
Magne
She loves going out with you and Toga
^ Could be for food, or maybe clothes shopping, hell, even just a walk
^ She just likes spending time with you, but yes, it is preferred if Toga and Twice could come along
She’s gotta be the sweetest person out of the whole league
She’s probably called you her sibling a few times just so you know her opinion on you
You’ve got at least a few matching shirts and jackets with her and Toga
She probably offers to help you around the base more than anyone (except kurogiri)
You’re definitely in the top 3 favorites
She likes to do skincare routines with Toga, Twice, and you
Definitely paints her nails and asks you how it looks first
She’s totally onboard with you sitting in her lap, but it’s just for hugs, don’t get it mixed up
She’s probably one of the touchiest people out of the league
^ Not nearly as much as Shig, but she’s probably third
Toga
You’re a sibling too, 100%
She asks you to sharpen and clean her knives daily, but she always repays the favor by helping you cook or by cleaning 2-3 rooms
She’s given you one of her favorite knives to keep for your birthday, or just any special event of yours
She always asks you to put her hair up for her, and if your hair is long enough, she asks if she can do your hair
She’s really picky about anything she gets you, and she always pays attention to the smallest details in everything she gives you
She’s given you quite a lot of jewelry she stole from corpses, whether you wear it or not
^ You can sell it too, and she’s fine with it, just tell her thank you first though
She always wants to watch you cook and she’s even tried to make your favorite food once or twice with Kurogiri and Magne
She asks you to paint her nails for her, even if you’re not good at it, since one hand always turns out better than the other
Face masks and cleansers are a must, she prefers if you do more skincare stuff with her, but that’s the bare minimum
Definitely has a picture of you, Magne, her, and Twice as the wallpaper on her phone
She’s somewhat touchy, she’s all for hugs and maybe hand holding every once in a while
^ That’s it though
Twice
He likes to smoke with you (if you do)
^ If you don’t, he still likes to talk to you when he does
He’s really interested in your hobbies and what you like to do
He’s comfortable with taking off his mask fully when it’s just you two and no one else
He thinks your laugh is cute in the same way a puppy’s cute
He likes being cared for by you, and you’re always going to be in his top 3
His all-time favorite thing about you is just the simple fact that you accept him for who he is, flaws and all
He comes to you for head pats at least four times a day, and he likes holding your hand because it makes him feel safe and secure
He loves how gentle you are with him, and how you try your best to understand him
^ He does feel extremely bad when he involuntarily insults you
^ Tell him you know he didn’t mean it and that you still like him please
He loves cuddles, but only when he’s tired
^ It’s usually just him laying his head on your shoulder though
Again, having you around in general makes him feel safe
So after a long day of fighting heroes, he just wants to sit with you until he falls asleep
Compress
He basically the only other person besides Kurogiri that doesn’t have the mindset of a 15 year old or younger
It’s nice that he’s got someone other than Kurogiri to talk to now
He offers to help with chores the most
Likes to entertain you with magic tricks, and he always shows you his newest tricks first
^ Please tell him he did a good job and that it was convincing
He knows a good deal about you, like your favorite food and your favorite spot in the city
Sometimes he goes on walks with you when the tension after a mission dies down
He takes you out for food once or twice a week, and for a snack run every other week
^ He always gets a lot of stuff though, so it’s ok
He’s always the first to notice anything about you, like a new haircut or a new shirt
^ He’s always the first to compliment you on it too
On a scale of 1-10, he’s probably a 3 as far as being touchy goes
He appreciates praise and maybe pats on the back, but he doesn’t really care much about themselves
He doesn’t really actively seek your attention like Shigaraki does, but he doesn’t complain when he gets it
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sjw-publishings · 3 years
Text
Retrospective Division
Josh and Henry walked hand in hand down the hallway, directly to the office in which they resided. The young men were in charge of small LGBTQ business in the building...only to be kicked out due to being too ‘liberal’, making room for tenants who were closer to his ‘Retrospective Vision’.
So much so, that the taller one had to voice it out.
“I’m...I’m going to send an email to the higher ups!” Josh spoke.
Josh Ming was the older of the two, only slightly older though at the age of 23. Fresh out of college and directly ready to start business with his newlywed husband.
Dressed in a pair of of white loafers with matching pair of beige khaki shorts, he wore a light blue buttoned polo underneath his pink checkered sweater vest with rainbow flag pin over his right breast...
Was that the final straw for the clearly conservative owner to kick them out after just a few months? If it was...
He scratched the back of his head, left palm messing with his wavy raven locks before briefly adjusting his rectangular half-frame specs. Something was real off...and he really wanted to get to the bottom of it.
This sudden rising passion of energy within him was also different, tightening his grip on his boyfriend, he would usually remain quiet and reserved, ignoring the such attitude towards them...but being kicked out? That really ticked him off.
“Honey, I like that attitude!”
Meanwhile, Henry was quite astonished by drive his husband was showing. Sure they both took turns in the bed and was Jeffery incredible when he was top, but he had never seen this side of him until today...
The 22 year old caucasian smiled, loving every bit of the drive from the other male, considering he was usually the one taking charge vocally.
Placing his right hand on his waist, swishing his hips in those pink bermudas while strutting in his own pair of slip-on, navy blue formal shoes that he recently got.
They had the right to dress liberally and freely, he would never sass directly-he and his boyfriend’s clothing says it all! With a matching light blue buttoned down-minus the sweater and throw in a white cardigan for variety.
Swooshing his blond curly locks, his sky blue eyes narrowed in admiration towards his partner, freckles rising with his cheekbones.
“Heh...must’ve gotten it from you~”
“Awww.”
In a matter of seconds, they reached the entrance to their office. They were told to pack up and go in the middle of the night, and with the full moon shining directly at them from a open window behind.
They immediately released the grip from the other as they walked in without question.
Not even realising that they won’t be holding the other this way when they come out.
————————————————————
As they entered, the room stayed mostly the same for now, with the only major difference, is that their desks are apart, parallel to one another.
Just like their formerly interlocked hands.
“Of course! the owner doesn’t support us working side by side directly!”
Josh noted, rolling his eyes as his tone got snappy. Folding his arms, not realising his lisp fading slightly with the remark.
“No worries hun, that just means I’d get a better look at you~”
He turned to his boyfriend, who looked lovingly at him at the side. At Eye level, re-assuring the other that everything will be alright. He blinked, did Henry just get taller all of a sudden? He definitely did not notice it earlier...must be the new shoes he was wearing.
“Right back at ya love~”
“Ooooh now there’s that attitude I love!”
PINCH!
“Oof!”
With that, Henry gave a tight pinch to his behind, smirking as he walked to his desk. Of course, it was far harder than usual, that tease. His husband liked to do that especially when he was happy, which was great when he was happy despite those remarks from the owner!
But something about the pinch...really set him off.
Playing it off, not noticing his larger steps as he strode to his side of the room. Legs stretching wide apart, feet grounded to the floor as he stood like a 1930s cartoon, except with more realistic proportions.
PLONK!
Landing butt first on his chair, he winced once again, he sat with more force than intended. Probably due to the aggression towards the owner, but wasn’t there supposed to be a cushion he and his husband brought from home on his-
Sleek Office chair, the modern kind without the comfort. Just pure professionalism like the way the owner demanded. Did that arse remove his-
Meanwhile Henry from across looked comfortable in his...’Chairman’s chair’. Like he was a higher up overseeing him, with a smug grin, but it was just cause he found him cute right?
“Sit up straight hun...wouldn’t want the owner to think otherwise.”
“Got it...! Thanks for reminding me!”
“No problem love...”
He responded quickly...though kind of irritated, he knew it was the owner’s policy too, about a ‘straight back leads a straight life’. He often made visits to everyone of his tenants or so he claims...especially them.
How ridiculous of a ‘motivational message’, though Jeff did like to keep his back straight for proper posture and presentation, not cause he was...
Anyways...what is with the fact that his fiancé is on a grand chair while he was stuck lookin’ like a subordinate. Sure Henry was slightly older...and taller than him, but the difference between them was huge.
He shouldn’t let that get to him...but its kind of pissing him off, specially with that smug grin on the older male’s face.
Mustering up all his professionalism, he spoke to the other male about their situation, holding in as much anger as he could.
“Say...how else do you think the owner expects us to behave?”
“Don’t know, probably...like him...”
Older days...yeah that sounds about right. Blinking, Josh watched as numerous LGBTQ posters and photos he framed up on his side taken down in an instant, replaced with framed photographs, mainly black and white of men and women in retro-esque attire.
But the main thing were the fact was there were only happy heterosexual couples in the wedding pictures that he took...where wuz’ all the gay ones huh?
Meanwhile, Henry’s side had the pictures reshaped into various expensive degrees and award certificates apparently. Josh wasn’t sure when his senior was such a stick in the arse and show off his life, but apparently its the reality they live in now.
Mixed with the wood panelling, their office walls split into two. With his fiancé’s side having a more polished grey shine to it...and his having wallpaper of grey rocks right behind him.
He was pissed, all his hard work gone to waste when the boss removed all his...stuff, doing renovations...Sure he kinda liked the new decor, always felt sturdy where he wuz at. But still it was his stuff!
Though then again, he also did help take some of those conference photos for the boss when he had met with several of his big league associates, a proof of skill he could use when advertising his talent to the boomers...
Whatevah! He was still goin’ to be typin’!
As he had started up his trendy PearPC, he blinked as the load in bar showed up. Tapping his fingers impatiently, not realising the shiny light weight frames becoming heavier and grounded as the quality of the pixels dropped tremendously with every second.
“Something is not right! And I’m gettin’ to the bottom of dis!”
“Whatever you say, hun...”
Rolling his eyes at his lover’s statement, the older male was not as passionate as he was when it comes to delivering the truth. Not fighting as hard as he was, whateva’!
He was doin’ it HIMSELF!
Rubbing his palms, as his ‘doorframe’ retro PC lit up, being an older model did not hinder his goal as he opened up the word processor and began typing away!
He was always a fast typer, especially when his grandpapy trained him when he was younger. Though that did not sound right? They didn’t have computers back in the day and age!
As Josh blinked, the digital letters seemed almost printed out the more he starred into them. As he continued typing on his keyboard, he didn’t notice the swiftness of his fingers as he crunched on the keys effortlessly, neither did he mind the metallic clicking sound with every syllable.
Precisely, rubbing his eyes, the glossy flow shifted into simple paper. Grinning to himself, retro it is! Right in front of em’, a policy that the boss really stood firm in his heart.
“Not that I mind, Chief.”
Muttering to himself, Joshon was raised by a highly conservative grandfather who drilled him in the importance of staying true to their values.
Not noticing with that remark, his rainbow flag pin stretched like taffy around his neck, solidifying into a black monotone neck tie as the collar of his Polo tee stiffened.
And folded down.
Sweater vest splitting into two, the sleeves merging with the polo as the vest thinned out. A long row of buttons trailed down the merged too, colour bleaching white into a straight, iron-pressed dress shirt.
Even though he was sorta queer, there was no way he’ll be outrightly pissing his grand-papy off! Folding his arms determinedly, as the pinkness of the remaining vest fabric faded to black, looping into straps with a big criss-cross over on his back.
SNAP! Wearing his suspenders with grey pride.
It didn’t really matter to him in the face of a scoop. Especially when it comes to whatever the owner of the establishment is doing, he was determined to write it like the reporter he was.
You can say, it was going to be the scoop of the century!
“Did you say something?”
Gohen got up from his throne, dressed in a thick black suit, with faint white checkered patterns all over, with the typical office dress shirt and matching tie he always wore.
Sauntering over to the reporter’s side of the room, possessively. The hispanic-caucasian stared at the pan-asian male...though its less so love and more so-
“What are you doing?”
But oh man, does he piss Joshon off.
Yeah they’ve been engaged, but the way he breathes down his neck makes the reporter sick. Arms toughening with strong toned biceps, as a healthy dusting of hair lined his forearms.
The roughness the two exhibited even in bed was less out of love and more so...pent up frustration, especially lately. No matter how the conversation went, its just conflict after conflict.
“I’m just typing away the new article, lovah!”
His lover’s been clinging onto em’ again. Examinin him like a piece of meat, even though they just get engaged recently...though it was more so the lawyer’s idea rather than Joshon’s.
Tied down to another guy like that, even that was too gay for his liking.
“Why don’tcha just-TALK TO ME?”
“I AM TALKIN’ TO YA!”
He was so ANGRY with his lover, getting up, hands pressing against the other...and with a-
PUSH!
The impact left a huge blow to their relationship.
Flinging both men back to their side of the room, onto each of their seats. Rings morphing into simple tie pins as they stuck onto their new ties. Nothing special or out of the ordinary, and definitely nothing to personal with the other male.
They just anger each other.
First came the realisation of the older male, who tugged relentlessly below, surging through age and maturity as his weathered face took on a caramel tan.
Hair styling into natural curls, shortening into a dark brown, embracing his new identity of a conservative single man in his fifties. Letting loose any notion of being attracted to anyone but his future-
“Hermosa!”
The hispanic BOOM-ER’ed his manhood, letting loose all his reservations and kindness as a dark glare rested on the male. Deep eye bags alongside a faint beard.
Dusting himself, the middle aged man made sure he appeared presentable, despite still in a hazy afterglow.
Shaking himself out of his trance, the older man glared at the younger male.
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“Get out my office.”
Walls fell down between the two, a complete division of interests as the attorney faded from his sight.
“Well who needs ya?”
Still thirsting for release, his face contorted at any thought of attraction to the older man. What wuz he? Queer? That kind of shit gets ya kicked outta office!
Which was why he liked it ere’!
“PANSY!”
A young handsome guy free to be chasing the ladies! Hair slicked to the side, as his skin embraced that peachy caucasian tan of his new ethnicity.
“QUEER!”
The tense fights he had with his competitor and rival next door. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. Grinning arrogantly at the triumphs he had over the man, especially when he told Gomez about the queer vibe he got from those chicks.
And both ladies turned about to be lesbians!
Imagine how much the owner of the establishment would be proud of him, how his grandpapy would be proud of him.
His arrogant sneer framed by his squared jaw, licking his lips as his signature five o clock shadow lined his masculinity. Narrowing his much larger eyes, blowing a large-
“GOT DA SCOOP RIGHT ERE!”
And so the incredibly heterosexual reporter proclaimed, kicking back as his hard member came and came like the single retro business owner he was.
Slumping back in the afterglow, immersing in his heterosexuality like he always did past midnight as he-
Knock!
Jolted up, zipped his trousers, and crossed his arms as his boomer rival barged in.
“Matt! Will ya keep it down?!”
“Shaddup Diego! As if you and your crusty balls didn’t jerk off for the third time this evenin’!”
Of course, they initiated their famous, tense, stare down at the other. The caucasian reporter remaining in his position as the hispanic lawyer made his way to the seat in front of him.
The two of them fought ever since they met. With Gomez being being really disapproving towards Johnson as a result.
The Chief’s colleague vouched for their grandson Johnson to be a part of the many businesses in the building, claiming he will be a value asset to his ‘conservative vision’.
Of course, Reporter Johnson was a prodigy. Being raised in the art of the press by his Grand-pappy, the ins and outs on the ‘black N white days’ without too much influence from the modern world.
It was no surprise that the chief, the owner of dis ere’ place, gave him an office of his own.
Even bypassing Attorney Gomez’s approval, who, besides being the prime defence lawyer against any allegations towards the property owner, was also the one who made the deciding vote on whether someone was able to rent an office in the Chief’s estate.
Of course, the idea of a man, over a decade younger, having this much influence in the building had ticked the hispanic boomer to his very core. And ever since then, it became a non-stop cycle of one upping the other.
“Listen Matty, you know how it goes as much as I do. We’re men and still single, we need women.”
Though despite their numerous arguments, over the years, they may never admit it...but when it comes to getting partners, they were both unfortunate enough to remain single this long.
In their late thirties and fifties respectively, flirting with ladies and getting rejected like some 50s comedy routine.
“Never understood how did some guys get married immediately after college...bunch of queers.”
“Agreed, especially for a hot rich lawyer such as myself, being single is definitely out of the equation.”
“Hey! Hey! You think the ladies care about an old man in a suit when a hot stud like me is around?”
“Not when you are far from tactical with your words! Besides, you should see how the women look at me when I walk down the hallway.”
“Oh yeah? Well Chicks can’t resist spankin’ my arse with every step!”
And so the argument continues, like almost every time they met. Like a married couple, except they were straight and talking about women women women.
And for some odd reason, because of this fact, despite their glaring differences in almost about everything. They knew they had each other’s back when it comes to this.
“Anyways...the owner said he’s found two ladies working in an office below us...and that they are not only interested in us...but-”
Taking out the photographs from the brown folder, in them were two gorgeous women that these straight men could not peel their eyes off. Like an alluring magnet of compatibility, that kind that they were unable to resist.
The left one definitely screamed the ‘mamacita’ that Diego desired. As he placed his matured palm over that photograph, red tints could be seen over his cheeks as he subconsciously licked his lips.
Of course, Matt’s hard on throbbed at the sight of the right chick. Like a lesbian who turned straight in front of his lens, the kind of Gal he would spend his life with, and for some reason he knew she would too.
“You in?”
Lawyer Diego Gomez folded his arms, but barely hid the incredible pheromones of attraction towards his lady. Sandwiching his manhood and rubbing it, desperately needing her immediately, closing his single case once and for all.
Reporter Matt Johnson mirrored the older male, and not wanting to admit it, is thirsting for that retro babe like the scoop of the century. He really desired for her...but he ain’t gonna show weakness in front of his rival! He was taking charge, hungry eyes blending in with a determined expression.
“You be my wingman this time Gomez, and you’ve got a deal.”
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queerdisagreeable · 2 years
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hi! my brother recently came out to me and i really want to celebrate with/for him bc i know hes feeling ashamed and i thought id know a bit more of what to do since im an out lesbian but i kinda blanked out lmao. do you have some ideas of what i could do for him?
ooo let's see...! so so it depends on how he came out (like, gender or sexuality) but there's a buncha stuff you could do!
first off, the best thing you can do, just make sure he knows you support him -- let him talk about how he feels and encourage him to explore those feelings at his own pace. be there for him, it means more than anything -- I'm sure that you know how much an open ear can help, especially having gone through some form of coming out at some point yourself!
if you kinda feel like the window closed because you blanked (I've had that feeling before...), you can write it down! a good ol' fashioned letter or long text is invaluable for opening up that route of communication and putting the ball in his court to say what he wants to when he's ready. just let him know that you support him, you care about him, and you're happy that he's learning who he is. similarly, send him some goofy queer memes. it's funny & maybe makes him feel a lil' more comfortable finding the joy in his identity, whilst also showing that you're there to show up for him.
more on the lighthearted side of things, you could bake sugar cookies or a cake and decorate them with his pride flag(s)! (here's a recipe for a cookie icing that you can colour as needed [link]) if he's still keeping anything a secret from other people he(/you?) live with, do it stealth, maybe make 'em and take him out for the day and share 'em at some point, or order from a bakery and take him with you to collect it (though ofc that's gonna be more pricey -_-)!!
you could get/make him some pride merch -- again there are ways to do it stealth if need be! pins, flags, mugs, prints, there's something for everyone!
if it's a gender coming out, help him find some clothes or gender-affirming accessories! you could sit with him and shop online, or even go out and shop if yall are safe to (given the world as is ¬.¬)
the fact you're taking time to ask and think about it is so good, just make sure that he knows you're supporting him, and things will be good <3 congrats to him, and to you for another gay in the family!
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lokigodofaces · 3 years
Text
Michelle, Marvel, & Pride 25
Link to questions.
What sort of pride apparel do you think the characters would wear/have, if any?
Joey Gutierrez: He has a wristband he wears often enough, and for pride month he wears a bit more stuff. He wears things like backpacks with rainbow straps and a shirt with the gay flag (holy heck I just realized his sexuality is never confirmed as solely gay. He could be bi or something, but I'm pretty sure he is gay).
Peggy Carter: I don't know enough about queer history. She would have something subtle from her time period. Very subtle. This is a time where it was illegal for homosexuals to have federal jobs, such as director of S.H.I.E.L.D. But more recently, I like to think Sharon gave her a little bookmark or something colored like the bisexual flag.
Valkyrie: If she was on Earth, I think she would look really nice with thread braided into her hair to make a bisexual flag. It would look super pretty.
Ayo: Again, I don't know how pride is celebrated in Wakanda, but if there is anything, that's what she would do. I get the vibes from her that she'd like have rainbows on social media or something though.
Loki Laufeyson: He would have some clothes in the colors of the greyromantic, pansexual, and asexual flags, but not straight out the flags. And he'd have a couple of easy to hide apparel, things like this.
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Also, I like to imagine Scott doing a card trick in front of him, joking that he can do magic too. Loki is interested (because he's being nice) and he finds it funny that Scott insists on showing him a bunch of ace cards. So Scott starts jokingly buying him stuff with aces of spades, and Loki is down because that is ace as heck.
Bucky Barnes: He has lots of shirts, flags, and all sorts of stuff. I like to think he has rainbow laces he wears with his shoes. He has lots of things that, even if they aren't explicitly queer, give him vibes. Things like the purple lava lamp he found on clearance and a red, purple, and teal tie dye shirt he found at a thrift shop. They aren't mean to be greysexual or bisexual, but they give off the vibes.
Wanda Maximoff: She'd have things with all the flags that apply to her. Those being abrosexual, bisexual, pansexual, aromantic, and asexual. On days where she's aroace, she'll wear her aroace stuff. Pan stuff on pan days. You get the point. And she wears her abrosexual stuff all of the time. She has things like rings, denim jacket with the flags ironed on, maybe shoes kind of like these.
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Lance Hunter: He has a watch with a bisexual flag band that he wears a lot. And he likes to throw in bi stuff or rainbow stuff wherever he can. Things like the soles of his shoes being rainbow or his jacket being lined with bi colors.
Daisy Johnson: She does her make up in bi and demi colors, but that's mainly during pride month. Normally, she has a bracelet like the one I had pictured with Loki. She has a T-shirt that says something like "Inhuman, Queer, & Proud" she got because there are starting to be queer inhuman groups.
Jemma Simmons: She'll dress in pink, purple, and blue as a subtle bi flag. In June, Daisy does her make up sometimes. Jemma has cute little decorations she'll have, like a cup in bi colors to hold pencils or her phone's wallpaper as a cool pink to blue ombre with stars or something. Her and Fitz have matching bi wristbands someone got them as a wedding gift.
Leopold Fitz: He has the bi wristband same as Jemma. Other than that? I don't see him being the type of person to do all sorts of flag or pride or whatever stuff. He's heteroromantic bisexual, that's all. Part of it is that he doesn't want to be given crap for being varioriented ("you can f*ck a guy but not fall in love" sort of bs), but even if he was biromantic and bisexual, it's just not really his thing, so have a bunch of random colorful things shouting to the world that he's queer when he prefers to keep this very, very private.
Steve Rogers: Steve has bi and rainbow gear, but it's not something he normally wears. More of a pride thing.
Carol Danvers: She changes her suit to the lesbian flag for pride month! Outside of that, she seems like a person to wear lesbian flag socks. Which is totally random and idk if those even exist, but I get the vibes.
Peter Parker: MJ bought him some bi pins that he has saved in his room. He has some general mspec ones he wears around, that make him look supportive of hims omnisexual girlfriend, and he also can be secretly proud of his bisexuality. He also has an mspec solidarity shirt he only wears at home, with MJ, with Ned, or with Tony. It has bisexual, pansexual, polysexual, omnisexual, abrosexual, and other flags and has some phrase about them all being friendly.
MJ Watson: She'd wear lots of omnisexual and mspec pins. Omni for her, and mspec for her and Peter. She'd have a pair of black doc martens that she doesn't wear often but have rainbow laces. She also has a plaid shirt with the omnisexual colors.
Tess: Again, sad day, she doesn't really have anything for pride.
Sam Wilson: Most of his stuff is rainbow things. He was pretty certain he was queer but didn't know in what way, so he only got rainbow stuff for a long time. And he isn't in a spot where he's comfortable to come out as aromantic, so he just says he's queer. But he has an aro flag on the boat, and a tiny little aro flag magnet he keeps on the wings.
Mantis: Gamora gave her a bunch of whatever the galaxy terms to be ace stuff.
Nebula: Someone on Earth would buy her this shirt as a joke.
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And the tank top, and the mug, and the short sleeved shirt, and the 3 quarters sleeved shirt, and the hoodie, and anything they can find with this.
That same person also gets a million things (this time including a bumper sticker they put on her ship) with this design or similar.
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Vision: Dude can literally make his own clothes pop out of nowhere. He makes himself a non-binary cape sometimes. He also has a couple of enby gifts from Wanda
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ghost-light · 3 years
Text
we rot, thinkin' lots about nothing
My contribution for Pride Day of @willieappreciationweek!!!
Summary:
Their gender- hm.
It was sort of like gender envy. Except remove the envy part. Because sure, ghosts could have gender. But it wasn’t really the gender he wanted. Stuck with it. Just like they were stuck in the afterlife, if you could call ghosthood an afterlife.
Read it under the cut or on ao3
To be fair, ghosts had never really needed a specific gender.
They still didn’t, at least not by any standards or official rules (spoiler alert; that’s because there were no definitive rules. The closest ones Willie had ever known to be rules were smashed to smithereens by Caleb Covington and Alex's band).
So when Julie asked if they wanted a pride flag or pin, it threw him off. When Julie showed them some pictures of pride flags for different gender identities, it threw them off. Hence the mini-spiral of skateboarding and maybe avoiding a certain band of ghosts and their lead singer.
It wasn’t hiding, per se. Willie Williamson Ortega didn’t hide. There was nothing to hide from, anyways. And yet, here he was, skating the day away, stuck in their own head with a problem that wouldn’t resolve itself.
He never had a label before. They were just a gay skater in the 80’s. He was just Willie, or William, to Caleb.
It didn’t feel quite right anymore.
The thing was, Willie's gender just was. They were a ghost. Couldn’t that be their gender?
(Agender, Flynn had suggested. Not having a particular gender. But that wasn’t quite right. He did have a gender. Probably.)
Willie tried explaining it to Alex, because he was a ghost too, right? Except… not quite in the sense that Willie was. Alex tried, he really did. But seeing the blonde’s encouraging but confused smile, and the way Alex’s eyebrows furrowed with intense concentration sank Willie’s spirits.
Flynn was a little more understanding. But they had found a label, was comfortable calling herself a demigirl lesbian. Demiboy and gay felt- close. Maybe. He hadn’t thought about these things so urgently before, hadn’t been able to find people that could truly get the situation. After seeing his look of distress, and the way their hands repeatedly combed through their hair, Flynn’s face softened. They put down their phone, still keeping a half-casual air. Adjusted their hat (where did Flynn get so many hats?).
“You know,” she paused. Exhaled slowly. “You know, gender is more like a concept. Like- my gender is basically a lesbian, yeah? It doesn’t make sense, but it makes sense to me. Some people call it a performance, but the point is that it shouldn’t define you. If you don’t find a label that you like, who cares, dude? If anyone gives you crap for it, hit them with your skateboard.”
The last line startled a laugh out of Willie, their shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind. You’re-you’re pretty great at this stuff.”
Flynn smirked, tilting their head to the side. “I know. Now go get ready for your,” she wiggled her eyebrows a bit, “date with blondie. And I am off to catch my demon of a girlfriend’s dance rehearsal.” Their eyes sparked at the word “girlfriend”, and Willie couldn’t help but grin back.
“Not a date!” he called out. “Not- it’s not a date. It’s just movie night with Alex. And Luke and Reggie and Julie. See? Not a date.” Willie was fumbling with their words, meaning he was probably blushing hard too.
“Mhmm.” Flynn looked bemused, shaking her head a little. “Have fun on your not-a-date-ghost-party-plus-my-best-friend then, skater boy.”
Okay, so Flynn had been helpful. That wouldn’t explain why Willie still felt lost, though considerably less so than before.
Their gender- hm.
It was sort of like gender envy. Except remove the envy part. Because sure, ghosts could have gender. But it wasn’t really the gender he wanted. Stuck with it. Just like they were stuck in the afterlife, if you could call ghosthood an afterlife.
So gender envy without the envy. And it was still unclear if “ghost” was a real-enough gender, or if Willie was making it all up. So that took away from the metaphor quite a bit. Gender envy, but without the envy. Oh, and scrap the gender too. Nice metaphor, Ortega. You’re really making progress here.
It’s ok. Everything’s fine. Willie isn’t the least bit concerned. He didn’t need a label, honestly. So why did they feel like they needed one so badly? Nobody was going to care, Julie certainly wouldn’t mind regardless of the answer she got. (If Willie was being honest, it wasn’t really about Julie.)
Didn’t Willie figure this out when they were alive? Skaters didn’t need a gender. Skating was what defined them, not a gender identity label or their sexuality. Skating was the one thing that made them feel free and alive. And then they died, of course. That didn’t mean they couldn’t still skate, though. And yes, maybe he couldn’t really feel the wind in their hair as he rushed down Hollywood Boulevard, and as much fun as phasing straight through lifers was, it did only emphasize the fact that he was a ghost. Not real.
If Willie themself wasn’t real, then why should their gender have to be real? It was barely a significant part of them, anyways.
In all seriousness, he did have an idea of why Julie’s simple question was affecting them so much. Nobody had ever asked them that before. For years, decades, Willie had simply. Been. Willie Williamson Ortega, ghost skater at the Hollywood Ghost Club.
It hadn’t occurred to him just how much they didn’t feel like a person during that time. Skating was wonderful, of course. Their only true escape from the strange hodge-podge of Caleb’s talent show. It was Caleb that was the problem, Caleb that had been leeching off Willie’s being the whole time.
And then, he was alive again. Willie, that was. Not Caleb. Alex brought Willie back to life, and wasn’t that just ironic? Because Willie was so, so alive in ways that they had never been before. And all while he was dead, to top it off.
And the craziest part about it was-
And then their board rammed into someone, sending both parties to the ground in a groaning heap.
“Ah damn, I am so sorry, I- Reggie??” This was great. Another one of the band members that they ran over with a skateboard. Alex was never going to let him live this down. At least they weren’t obsessing more over the board than the person. (Although, Willie had done a quick check of his board, which seemed unharmed.)
“Man, I just wanted to go for a walk, not get turned into roadkill,” Reggie laughed, sitting up cautiously.
“I’m so sorry dude, I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention. Honestly, I was kinda having a minor afterlife crisis, as Alex would say.” He doesn’t know why he said that, doesn’t know what it is about Reggie that made them suddenly willing to stick around instead of apologize and skate off.
“Minor afterlife crisis, huh?” Reggie raised their eyebrows, hands propped up on his knees. “I mean, the afterlife is weird. Luke poofed my shirt away the first time we teleported! And Alex still gets wedgies, even though all our clothes are made of air!” Willie glanced at him, checking if he was serious or not. It was hard to tell, with Reggie’s earnest-puppy-dog confused face.
Willie inhaled deeply, sighing as they sat down. “Yeah. You know, I don’t think I’ve felt this alive, with Alex and you guys and Julie, since like, I died. And then Julie was asking about pride, and I can’t quite figure out what my gender identity is. It’s kinda…” His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.
“Like you just are, but in a different way than everyone else.” Reggie murmured, eyes downcast.
Willie’s eyes snapped to Reggie. “Yeah! Exactly. You know that feeling? Because you just are, but nobody can understand that. I’m alive like I haven’t been in forever, and I can’t. Can’t put a name to myself anymore.”
Reggie nodded enthusiastically. “Luke keeps saying that maybe I’m like him. But I think he’s wrong. I used to wear skirts to our band performances. They were just fun to stomp and jump around on stage with. Nobody asks me, but if they did, I would say my gender’s like that. I’ll do it if it makes me feel good, but not because of labels.”
It was as simple as that. Willie took a breath, felt it sink into his bones and settle there. Simple. As. That. They’d been so busy worrying over finding a proper label. And truly, it wasn’t such a big deal.
Beside them, Reggie was still talking. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re ghosts. We can pretty much do anything. Skating makes you feel more you, right? You say that a lot. Skateboarding, that’s enough to be an identity, gender or not. My sister used to say, when our parents would get mad at me for wearing skirts or makeup, that it didn’t matter. Because I would always be me, you know?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m always going to be me. Thank you, Reggie. I think you solved my minor afterlife crisis for me.” Skateboarding is a part of me. I can be a skater. I can be a ghost. I don’t need any other labels than that.
Except maybe Alex’s boyfriend. Or spouse. No! Stop thinking that much ahead, you haven’t even asked him out yet, Ortega! Focus on right now.
“Nah, it was all you. You knew it, you just needed to hear it again.” They grinned, green eyes sparkling in light of the setting sun. Willie huffed out a laugh, offering a fist. Reggie tapped his fist against Willie’s, not hesitating for a moment.
When Alex met Willie’s gaze, all he could see was happiness.
“Everything okay?” He asked, already knowing the answer that would come.
“Yeah. Reggie helped me figure some things out. And I’m still me. Just Willie.” They smiled, reaching out for Alex’s hand.
“Well, Just Willie, I hope you’re ready for Friday movie night. Luke picked A New Hope,” he leaned in and stage whispered, “for the seven hundredth time.”
Luke protested from across the couch, standing up to make his point.
“It’s a good movie, but we’ve all memorized the script at this point, Lucas.” Alex shot back, squeezing Willie’s hand slightly.
Willie leaned back, eyes fond as he took in the scene. Luke and Alex bickering loudly over who had the better movie choices, Julie laughing, exasperated as she bent over to paint Reggie’s nails a pale purple.
Definitely the most alive they had felt in a long time.
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Text
The Arrival
In which all of the characters move into the same apartment and become giant simps for each-other.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of wounds.
Characters: ‘K’ (mentioned), Janus, Logan, and Virgil.
Word Count: 1,483 words
This is definitely not what Virgil had been expecting. Ji recently had been kicked out of jix apartment recently. So when they got the offer of a new living space they were more than happy to move in even if it was with total strangers.
Logan had just picked up a new job in a new city. Lun was finally away from lun’s father… mostly. He still got e-mails from him, texts, and of course regular visits but was more than happy to be moved away from him at least one city, even if it was only a couple of cities away.
Janus had gone through hours and hours of searching until its friend had suggested it moved in with strangers. They were overjoyed to be away from their previous roommate ‘K’. It wasn’t exactly excited to be moving in with two strangers but they could deal with it as long as it could get away.
Logan was the first to arrive at the apartment he picked a room quickly and moved in their things they picked the biggest room. Lun hadn’t brought a lot of things but they liked their space. Lun was excited to be around here even though lun would be here with strangers. Once lun was situated they went into the living room to meet their new roommates. Soon a taller person walked in and smiled at them. They had beautiful yellow eyes and freckles on one side of their face causing them to look magical.
Janus was second. It came in around noon and waved at the shorter person there. They looked lun over, noting the way they seemed comfortable around it even though they had just met. They went and took the second largest room just dropping off their single small suitcase and one backpack before going to talk to the strange person who it would be living with for an undetermined amount of time. “Hello~” It said smoothly, sitting down across from it’s roommate. 
“Hello? How are you?” They responded. “I’m assuming you’re Janus?”
“I am, I hope you haven’t heard anything to awful about me, Logan? Correct?” Janus hissed out, smirking calmly at the other,
“Just that you’re a huge flirt, nothing extremely awful. I’ve also hear whispers about your eyes, they are as gorgeous as people say. What are you pronouns?” Logan asked softly, smiling at him.
“Quite the charmer aren’t you. It/they. Your’s?” Janus smiled softly, messing with their hoodie carefully.
“Lun/them… I’ll answer any questions if you have them. Which room did you pick?”
“The second biggest one, next to yours, I saw you picked the biggest one for yourself. Unless our other roommate stopped by and did so first?” Janus asked softly.
“I did, I’m sure you would’ve done the same.” Logan smiled at him, nodding a bit and adjusting his glasses to move them up the bridge of his nose.
“I would have-” Janus started but was stopped by the sound of a door slamming open. A short dark looking pail boy walked in, they looked at the two sitting together and then quickly ran off to pick a room for themself.
Virgil arrived around noon, they panted as they ran into the building and tugged on their hood as they opened the door quickly causing it to slam against the wall. Ji only froze for a moment before sprinting upstairs to clean jinxelf up and calm down. Soon they found they had been left with the smallest room though didn't complain as they collapsed on the bed and set down their backpack, grabbing the first aid kit they kept with them. They stared at the closed door and then pulled off their clothes, removing their binder quickly and hissing in pant as it scratched at the fresh wounds that littered their body. They quickly got to work cleaning themself up. They bit back a sob as they clean their cuts and bandaged them. When they were finished they pulled on a fresh black t-shirt and closed their eyes for a moment before getting to work on setting up a couple things on their walls as well as hanging up their pride flag over their bed. Normally they would be worried about doing that but they decided it wasn’t worth it considering all of jix friends were lgbtq in some form they figured it couldn’t be to much of an issue. Virgil put the black and purple fluffy sheets on ji’s bed and then put away their stuff in the dresser that was sitting in the corner of the room. They silently put on their headphones and curled up on their bed before slowly falling asleep. 
About three weeks later neither Logan nor Janus had really heard anything from the shortest member of their apartment. Virgil had kept hidden in their room for most of the day, only leaving when the house was empty.
However today wasn’t turning out to be a normal day for Logan especially since Virgil had decided not to hide in jix room when the, arrived home. Logan froze at the sight of the small being sitting there on the couch, listening to music and reading a book. They would never forget the sight of them sitting there calmly in a short black crop top hoodie and their favorite black fluffy blanket. Logan walked over and sat down on the chair across from Ji. “Hello.” Lun said softly, smiling at ji.
Virgil froze for a second before pulling off jix headphones and smiling at them. “Hey…” They said softly.
Logan swore their voice was more beautiful than any song they had ever heard. It was soft yet strong, not very high but not too low. Jin voice was perfect. “Nice to meet you, I’m Logan.”
“Virgil… You’re the space nerd, right?” Ji said quietly, smiling at the person in front of them. They weren’t particularly anxious right now which was a shock. They guessed that it had something to do with Logan’s calming presence.
Logan blushed and nodded softly. “Yes. Why?” Lun asked, smiling at the odd person in-front of them. 
“Can you tell me about them? Please?” Virgil asked softly, sitting up quietly and putting a book mark in their book and pausing their music.
“Really? Yes! I’d love to! What would you like to know about?” Logan asked happily, sitting up straighter.
“Anything… Maybe stars? I don’t really know anything so just anything.” Virgil smiled brightly. 
Logan nodded quickly. “Alright! So basically-” They began to rant happily, flapping their hands at their sides quietly, very excited and happy.
An hour or so later Janus arrived home, shocked to see Virgil sitting there ranting about horror books of all things. “It’s so dumb! No sane person would stay in a house with a literal killer, imagine you know there’s a killer coming to your house and instead of calling the cops, packing a bag and setting up some cameras and going to stay at a hotel you what? Just stay there!? They’re trying to kill you!!” Virgil grumbled.
Janus walked over quietly and sat down next to Virgil. “Hello.”
Logan smiled softly. “Hello Janus.”
Virgil gasped. “Hey…” He said quietly, instantly going quiet and staring at the new person who had arrived. They were convinced that Janus must be the most beautiful person ever. 
Janus smirked at them softly. “What were you saying, spider-ling? I would love to hear more about horror novels~.” It said softly, winking at them.
Virgil went very red. “O-oh! Right… so… so basically horror novels are only really effective when you know either are mislead about the killer or there’s no real way to get away.”
“Interesting, what about ghost stories and things like that?” Logan asked softly.
“R-right! Those are always good, it’s best done when the ghost ends up being someone they know. My favorite trope is when they end up in a forest… because they’re always so beautiful but also sad. They make a wonderful place. They seem like they’d be easier to write though I’m sure they’re also very difficult.” Virgil said quickly, bouncing in their seat a bit as Ji talked. Virgil decided that they liked their new roommates even if they were kind of weird.
After a couple days and a recommendation from their friend our favorite trio decided to make a blog for people to ask them things deciding it was a good bounding experience they created an email and set up the blog. They all typed in their pronouns and name’s into a pinned post and picked out an emoji for themselves as a signature. Janus made the header and profile pic. Virgil wrote in a little intro to the blog and set everything up. Soon enough they were all cuddled up on the couch ready to start running their brand new blog with no idea what was to come.
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kurofae · 4 years
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Hey can you uh.. post more of your Cecil/Carlos headcanons? Literally tell me anything I want content ahxbbxbzbsb
Oh boy can I!!! They’re Cecil/Carlos headcanons mostly in the sense of “Cecil and/or Carlos” and less “cecilos” but like. They do overlap and it gets a bit shippy just due to the fact that they Invented Love. I have to put this under a cut, it’s horrendously long. Enjoy!
Carlos
1.) If you’ve ever seen any of my art ever you know I headcanon Carlos as trans, I always stick a little trans pride flag pin on his coat (I don’t necessarily think that he wears it all the time or even ever in canon, it’s just important to me that people know that the Carlos I draw is trans. Because I’m trans and I say so.). These are things related to gender and gender expression:
Carlos is like, 5′2″. Being short isn’t necessarily part of the transmasc experience obviously (I’m like 5′8″) but oh boy is it for him! Short king. 
He’s been on T for like fifteen years or something by the start of the series
He’s hairy! T be like that, but also he likes it. Cecil also likes it. 
He can also be pretty femme, although it took him a long time to come to terms with that because I am projecting my own trans experiences onto him
For a long time he performed a super hyped up version of masculinity because of societal pressure and then was like “actually no I kinda hate this??” And allowed himself to be comfortable with feminine things.
It's not like, a constant thing, especially cause a lot of feminine stuff is really uncomfortable for him w his sensory issues (he refuses to wear makeup not because of gender or aesthetic reasons but because having anything on his face is hell; tight clothing is also Not Appreciated). But he sometimes wears skirts and dresses (not that clothes have gender but! femme aesthetic stuff) and if he can sit still long enough he likes having his nails painted.
This is also related to his gauges that I draw him with - his ears were pierced before he realized he was trans and then he let them completely close over because Hypermasculinity, but then was like. “No actually earrings slap?” And he reclaimed them as gauges. I think he's at a 00g or a 7/16"? He's happy w that though he's not going bigger.
I have headcanons about his surgical transition too because I want more bodies like mine (or how I want mine to be) represented: He’s had top surgery but hasn’t had bottom surgery and doesn’t really intend to. This is also important to me because like, idk, obviously Cecil’s more than okay with this fact and is always supportive of his husband and I just. I want that, man. Idk.
2.) He's got pretty extensive scarring from episode 25 that comes up onto his throat and spreads across most of his upper chest. He's pretty torn up about it because he wanted to get his "Science: I don't know, but I'm trying to find out, okay?" tattoo with the roses and the skull as a big chest piece and now the scarring is really too extensive for that. Cecil keeps trying to tell him it’ll look just as good across his shoulders and back and Carlos will probably do that but also :( he wanted to be able to see it.
3.) People may have noticed in my art, but he has a beauty mark on his left cheek. Cecil kisses it a lot. That is all.
4.) The way I originally started drawing Carlos, he was afro-latino. I still stand by this but I’ve started getting lazy with his hair (I don’t have a ton of practice drawing really tight curls and they’re hell on my joints because I have to try several times to get them right. It’ll get easier with more practice. I keep drawing him with like 2b curls instead of 3b or 3c like when I started) and need to fix that. I imagine his dad’s black and american and his mom is mexican, his whole family has dual citizenship now and his parents move back and forth every once in a while depending on job availability and the like. He’s got at least 2 siblings but probably more? I wrote him with two in ‘frequency and wavelength’ but 4 in ‘entoptic phenomena.’ Can’t make up my mind lmao.
5.) Carlos has anxiety, but not in the way it’s often portrayed in the fandom. I don’t think he’s as nervous or freaked out by Night Vale as people often write him being. My anxiety is this very vague undefinable undercurrent in most of my life and his is similar. He will have panic attacks but they’re not usually about Night Vale happenings, those don’t bother him. I think he’s fairly well adapted by the end of year two, to be honest. His attacks are more about stuff like breaking routines or trying new things or making decisions where the outcomes aren’t easy to predict, or the outcomes could potentially be very bad.
6.) He’s canonically autistic (although it’d be really nice to hear finknor talk about it since I’m still seeing controversy about this on the wiki even after It Devours!), but some headcanon stims include hand flapping when he’s excited or presented with new information, bouncing on his heels or even fully jumping when he’s happy or excited, he tugs on the sleeves of his lab coat when he’s nervous or stressed or uncomfortable. He’ll scratch at his arms if he gets really overwhelmed or upset. He occasionally gets bouts of echolalia and they get more frequent when he starts dating Cecil cause he’ll repeat things in Cecil’s cadence cause they sound nice.
7.) He also has adhd, predominantly hyperactive-impulsive type. I don’t know what to say here. He bounces up and down all the time. He talks fast when excited. He impulsively ran down into a city of tiny people and then was surprised when they attacked him. After that he immediately met up with Cecil after pining for him for a year. “I am not calling for personal reasons” is a reminder to himself as much as Cecil. There’s an entire chapter of the first novel that is literally just his dialogue and then the last two words are “Carlos said.” He’s hyperactive/impulsive, lads. 
Cecil
1.) Cecil like, doesn’t fuck with gender at all? Like. I definitely think he’s either a man or a nonbinary man but the distinction between the two isn’t that important to him. And unlike Carlos he has never given a damn about societal pressure to conform to masculinity and will just wear, do, and say whatever he feels like with absolutely no thought.
2.) I honestly have no idea what ethnicity/ies Cecil is. My alternate design for him that I drew in that 166 art is Native American but I don’t have a specific… I don’t know what they’re called in America, here in Canada the general term I would use is Nation? in mind. Basically, ‘Native American’ is a very broad term but I haven’t narrowed it down because I am horrendously unfamiliar with anywhere that isn’t like, immediately where I live. My curly, pale-haired Cecil design is pretty racially ambiguous and I am always open to suggestions if you have them.
3.) Cecil paints his nails black all the time and then chews on his left nails as a nervous habit and then doesn’t understand why the paint always chips so fast on his left hand and expresses frustration at this. Carlos just watches all of this with besotted amusement.
4.) Surprising literally nobody, Cecil loves loves loves loves loves playing with Carlos’ hair and washing it and combing it, but his own hair is significantly less curly so he doesn’t have a ton of experience with really curly hair. When they start dating Carlos is like “okay yes you can comb my hair but I have to teach you first because I’ve seen how you just rake a brush through your own hair, and somehow it seems to work fine for you, but I would literally rather shave my head bald before I deal with the kind of damage that would cause to my hair.” Cecil’s a good student and he learns very quickly. Idk. It’s domestic. I Will by Mitski plays while I lay on the floor and openly sob. 
5.) Cecil is covered in a bunch of little scars just cause Living In Night Vale Be Like That. One day I’ll draw a character turn of Cecil and document where all his scars are. The main ones I think about are from the StrexPet™ because I think that was. Significantly worse than he let on over the airwaves. Like enough so that I imagine his leg never fully recovers. He has to use a cane on really bad days and often limps around even when he isn’t using it. Carlos frets and tries to get him to use it more because it’s not good to put weight on his leg, but Cecil is literally nothing if not stubborn. Self care he doesn’t know her.
6.) He basically doesn’t have fingerprints anymore from the amount of pricking of his fingertips he has to do for ritualistic blood seals or opening the radio station doors or literally anything. I have a headcanon that in Night Vale, smearing the blood from the pricked finger is the equivalent of a signature on official paperwork, so everyone is just, scarred to hell on their fingers.
7.) I also think he’s a bit HOH because of the silverfish in his ears from the FOW in like, episode 60-whatever. So there’s a lot of Carlos getting excited and talking really fast, facing away from him, and Cecil being like. “What. Slow down. Look at me.” This is fine, because Carlos 1.) will always make the effort to speak more slowly and turn to face Cecil, and 2.) already knows ASL cause his sister is deaf (mentioned in this fic here, I linked to this fic earlier). I imagine Cecil learns ASL eventually as I think he has more and more trouble hearing as he ages.
8.) He has PTSD from a lot but mainly from Lot 37. I’ve written fanfic about how I think this has given him a series of control issues, a fear of being manipulated, brainwashed, or otherwise controlled again, and landed him in therapy (check tags and rating on that one; pls don’t read if you’re underage it’s weird I’m 20). I do love that canonically he couldn’t handle the auction system at the Ralph’s when they implemented it; it’s such a good detail. I think he has similar problems with antiques, from that first attack on Dana.
9.) This is something I’ve seen in a lot of fic but it’s also a personal headcanon: He also has a lot of issues with unreality. He is very easily overwhelmed with the idea that maybe everything is fake, and it’s just him floating in a void and hallucinating everything that’s happened. 33:Cassette doesn’t help this, and that’s part of why the antiques attack was initially so upsetting, he had no memory of it and questioning his own experiences and reality does not go well for him. As a part of this, I think the events leading up to 110 and 144 through 149 were incredibly upsetting for him. Gosh. Poor guy. 
10.) Cecil also has ADHD! He’s primarily inattentive though. “Sorry listeners I’m distracted today and forgot to mention my intern died” like ADHD KING THERE. “Okay. News. Done. I will now talk about Carlos for 3 hours.” He also deals pretty heavily with RSD, but mostly privately. Publicly he 100% covers that, to varying degrees of success. One example: “and I didn’t think too much of it. Sometimes, people just don’t call.” Like uh huh. Suuure. Another example: logically it makes sense that Dana bought Lot 37, but beyond that, one of the reasons he was so quick to decide it was her and there wasn’t another option was RSD. He’s just waiting for people to reject him.
Okay that’s it! This is most of the google doc I have saved, lol, it’s just edited for clarity. I hope this scratches that itch for you, I know how it feels to be craving content. I check the #wtnv tag about 80 times a day, it’s a wreck. Thank you for asking, I absolutely love rambling about these two. xoxo
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1ddiscourseoftheday · 4 years
Text
23 Oct 19
WALLLLLS!!!! Louis' album is available for preorder! Genuinely actually ON SALE NOW! (It comes out Jan 31.) What a day lads. Album announcement with cover art and a track list, it's without titles but we can see that it's 12 tracks, merch- signed albums, CD vinyl and cassette plus picture disc vinyl (Donny Rovers #28 shirt graphic!) and caps as in hats as in clothing merch finalllly! The album cover was released in bits, one part of the picture here one there scattered across the web- obviously fans were quick to gather but also, some just made an end run around the whole thing and found the pre-order link without bothering to wait. Fun fact, when found the site said Oct 24 for the release date. Also a twitter account announcing the name of the album dating to way back before even the leak made itself known.
Also! What appears to be part one of a Louis interview documentary?? "Chapter 1: Reflection" was posted to YouTube, it's a 6+ minute video of Louis being interviewed by Gordon Smart (formerly of The Sun) about music and his work finding his place in the industry and it's absolutely lovely. And! Louis updated his Spotify playlist, it's back to being the 28 songs list and full of exciting new stuff. So hurry up and let all that sink in cause tomorrow we have the new song and the video plus one million signs point to tour dates dropping tomorrow: we got Live Nation and Ticketmaster and little sites getting his picture up and teasing and tweeting about him then deleting, we got the capacity built in to his site ready to go, UAs dropping shady hints.... it's happening.
That's a lot of Louis but let's just have a little SBB Roundup Corner before we totally call it quits.... Okay yes, we see the 420 behind you on the WMI cover, lol, and how about that outfit in the promo pic posted to Ticketmaster huh?? Yeah that's right blue and green track pants with a shirt that says ORGANIC and defines the word on it, wow A LOOK indeed. A new playlist means loads of lyrics to analyse, I'll leave that to you to enjoy but I would be remiss not to mention the song Laurel Wreaths being on there damn! Then the metro published some charming articles saying We Made It is about Louis visiting Eleanor at Uni and one saying that Louis was surprised to hear that Harry did shrooms since he (Louis) was the stoner in the band (if you were with them in any way up to this point this is the moment where it goes from a mild eyeroll to utterly ludicrous) and Harry had told him off for it (lolllllll) and a cut and paste typical article about Freddie, one on Zayn, etc etc. I do believe the part where he says he likes NTMY and LU and laughs at Niall for saying he's vanilla though. Moments after the articles were posted Louis hopped on Twitter to acknowledge a good interview- "Proper good to see you mate. Thanks again for doing it!" he said... with a link to the Gordon Smart video. BUUURRN!
Anyway if all that Louis news isn't enough Christmas in October for you, Liam has a song out Friday: a CHRISTMAS SONG! All I Want (For Christmas) is out in two days what the fffffff you guys!! Like apparently this is the normal time for a Christmas song drop it just feels so sudden, help. Liam recorded his Jonathan Ross show (airs Sat) today and a fan who was present tells us he spilled some serious tea which made people very anxious because Liam stuff is a little stressful lately but don't worry, they say: "it was beautiful I'm telling you I'm beaming at him." They say we'll see a clip of the Ant Middleton show. The Esquire interview is out: Liam said he hasn't seen Harry in three years prompting much sadness (and some scepticism.) "We are the only band in history that has managed to get all its members to enter as soloists in the top 10 of the Billboard. If you think about it, it’s a phenomenon," he also says and it would be though it's not exactly accurate, but the reality is phenomenal enough, and he talks about how hard he works to make his body be what he feels it should be.
We got a picture of Harry from last night! He's wearing a cute jumper that looks a lot like his tour graphics (tho I'm told those are licorices not puzzles), but the real news is he's wearing his RAINBOW FLAG PRIDE PIN bless. Beautiful. The pic was posted by the person who reported from the Jools Holland show recording last night; that show has been announced now, Harry will be on with Noel Gallagher of all people (these guys are really everywhere you turn!), Brittany Howard, an exciting queer artist who he just followed yesterday, and others. New DYKWYA posters were spotted in LA.
And seriously only a day like this could push this to the end, how the hell, Niall is confirmed for Live Lounge! Nov 7!!!! He has more content out with the Genius Official lyrics video, so if you wanna see him talk about sex and deny he has a type (mhmm) check it out. As evidence, he says the girl NTMY was about had pink in her hair and tattoos. He's excited about getting onstage at the Jingle Balls and threatens not to talk to us if we don't get tickets but we're definitely safe so far, he's out there chattering up a storm on twitter.
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queertazsecretsanta · 4 years
Text
A gift for @mitraki, created by @one-true-houselight!
Some Team Sweet Flips training, and appearances from Magnus, Avi, Angus, and Taako! Some minor voidfish angst
~~
A Robot, a Dragonborn, and an Orc Expertly Dodge Under a Bar
NO-3113 focused in on the target standing ten feet across the room and ran through some basic coding. Since remembering her previous life, she had realized this habit was her robotic way of taking a few deep breaths before doing things; both were processes that normally went on in the background, but focusing on them helped ground her, in some strange way. 
Being a ghost in a robot body had a habit of making her more introspective, sometimes. 
She stepped back, just a little, before hurling herself forward, rolling neatly into a ball before exploding back upwards and delivering a round of precise kicks to the target. It shuddered before her final kick sent it flying backwards, its defeat scored by the cheers of Carey and Killian. 
“NO-3113, that was fantastic!” called Killian, jogging over to give her a fistbump. “You’re coming along so quickly, I remember that move taking me weeks.”
“Thanks,” NO-3113 said shyly. “I guess I just have really good teachers.” 
Carey socked her lightly on the arm. “Aw shucks, girl. You know flattery won’t get you out of cardio, right?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” NO-3113 said with a chuckle. 
Killian checked the clock on the wall before saying, “Though, before that, we should take a break.” Carey glanced up as well and nodded before making her way over to her bag, pulling out a piece of wood and a knife. 
“How’re your carpentry lessons with Magnus coming?” Killian asked, plopping down next to her girlfriend. 
“What do you think?” Carey held up the wood, and NO-3113 could tell it was almost segmented, with a higher, rounded portion at one end. Killian squinted at it as Carey brought it back to a level she could continue carving at. 
“Carey, I think that looks almost like…something.” Carey nudged Killian with her shoulder, who laughed before quickly adding, “Which I think is an accomplishment! I don’t think I could make a piece of wood look like something, you know?”
“Thanks, babe, your support means the world to me.” Even though her tone was sarcastic, Carey grinned at Killian before leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. “And this is loads better than what I started with, so I’m pleased, ya know?”
“My younger brother used to carve little things all the time,” said NO-3113, valvles in her shoulders whistling happily at the thought. “He made me a little cockatrice once, I was obsessed with them as a kid.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Oh yeah, I read every book I could get my hands on. I used to play this game where I’d stand really still and when people would ask what I was doing, I would say I got bit by a cockatrice and was petrified.” The two other reclaimers laughed as NO-3113 added, “That joke got less funny to my parents when I tried to use it to get out of chores.”
It was a little weird sometimes, talking about her life before waking up in a metal body. But it felt nice too, as if there wasn’t a gnawing divide between the two parts of her life. The fact that her friends rolled with it too was just icing on the cake. 
As Carey continued carving and the three continued to idly chat, NO-3113 heard familiar footsteps coming towards the doorway of the gym. Sure enough, Magnus charged in and triumphantly dropped a green, grey, white, and black striped scarf in front of Carey. 
Carey stared at it for a second before looking up. “What’s this?”
“You sent me to take something from someone’s bag without them knowing. I got this from Avi!” 
Carey’s eyes lit up. “Oh, sweet! Good job Mags. What was your approach?” 
“Well, I went up to him and started talking about the secret assignment he’s been doing for the Director…” As part of Magnus’ rogue training, Carey had made up a scavenger hunt of sneaky activities for Magnus to complete (with permission from other base residents, of course). Thus far he had picked Taako’s lock (and found the elf himself inside, stone faced as he shot sparks into the air), followed Merle around for ten straight minutes (and then jumped out and scared him; Merle had yelled ‘I’M FUCKING READY MAGNUS STOP’, to Magnus’ confusion), and now had this scarf of Avi’s. 
Once Magnus finished his explanation (fidgeting the whole time, naturally), Carey nodded thoughtfully. “Nice technique, getting a mark to be distracted by seemingly ‘forbidden info’. Now, before I send you on your next task, I need to check that my associate is ready.” She pulled out her Stone of Far Speech and pressed a few buttons. “Agent Holmes, are you ready for Magnus?”
NO-3113 was confused for a second, not recognizing the name. But then, the Stone crackled. “Uh, yeah, definitely, for sure. This is Agent Holmes, which is my name, and I am ready in the agreed upon rendezvous point.” It sounded as if Angus McDonald was talking through a pencil stuck between his teeth. 
Magnus nodded sagely, clearly fighting off a grin. “Alright, I’ll meet, uh, Agent Holmes. Where am I going?” 
“Cafeteria. He’ll explain your assignment once you get there.”
“Great,” cheered Magnus, bouncing towards the door. “Tell him I need to grab my scarf, and I’ll be right over.” Carey gave him a thumbs up as he disappeared through the doorway. 
She relayed the information, and the Stone crackled again, this time with a non-altered Angus’ voice. “Ok. Was that ok? I tried to disguise my voice, I don’t know if it worked. I read this trick about putting a pencil in your mouth, and I wanted to try it, because I’m an agent today and all.”
“You were great, Ango,” called Killian. 
“Yeah, I was swept away by the gravitas,” said NO-3113. 
“Oh good! Thank you, ma’ams!” Carey smiled as the channel crackled off, then pressed a few more buttons. 
“Hey Avi,” she said, stretching her neck. “You got got by Mags, want to come pick up your item?”
“Aw shit, is that why he was pestering me about my top secret mission?”
Carey grinned. “I’m afraid so, my dude.” 
Some muffled cursing came over the line before Avi muttered, “I’ll be by in a few. Man, you’re teaching Magnus well, aren’t ya?”
“Of course she is, ya goof,” said Killian, wrapping an arm around Carey. Small frills around Carey’s neck rose a little in embarrassment, but she grinned at Killian all the same. 
The stone crackled off again. Carey tucked it away and went back to her carving. She gestured at the scarf with her knife, asking, “I’ve never seen Avi wear this, wonder if it’s new?”
Killian shrugged. “It’s a pretty color scheme.”
NO-3113, upon hearing that, realized she recognized the color scheme. “It’s the aromantic flag.”
“Oh, I think you’re right!” Carey nodded, staring off into the middle distance. “I think I’ve seen Johann with a pin-oh my god, this is probably a present for Johann!”
“That’s the best!” Killian sighed. “I need to learn the flags better, honestly.” 
NO-3113 shrugged. “Same. I just remember that one because I had a little flag back home.” 
Killian and Carey looked up in surprise. “I didn’t know you were aro, NO-3113.”
“It just never came up, I guess.” NO-3113 felt her fans running a little faster. She had only just started coming out before her death, and it had kind of fallen to the wayside after her robotic awakening. It was all still new, in the grand scheme of things. 
“Well,” Carey said, leaning forward, clearly used to this speech. “The moon base is super accepting, as you’ve hopefully noticed. Garfield will order any pride stuff you want up here, and we have a Queer meetup every month!”
“The next one’s next week,” Killian chimed in. Carey nodded enthusiastically. “If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”
“Yeah, I think that’d be great. Thanks.” NO-3113 looked down, fans still whirring in the excitement. She saw where Killian and Carey has put gold star stickers on her torso, and had a thought. “Hey, I could probably get a pretty rad aro sticker.”
“Hell yeah!” As Carey cheered, Avi came in, his normal grin on his face. 
“I hear an item of mine has been recovered?” Carey held up the scarf. Avi suddenly blushed, quickly saying, “Oh, I’m glad I’m getting it back now, I need it in like, twenty minutes.”
“It’s for Johann, right?” 
Avi blushed deeper. “Yeah, he was saying he hadn’t had a chance recently to get any pride stuff, so I figured…”
Killian stood up and patted Avi on the shoulder. “That’s so sweet, I’m sure he’ll love it.” Avi grinned appreciatively. 
“Was it hard finding aro stuff?” Asked NO-3113. “I’m gonna try and get some stuff soon.”
“Nope! Garfield has a pretty complete catalog.” Avi bounced a little. “If you’re comfortable with it, you should tell Johann you’re aro too, he’ll appreciate the company.”
“For sure, yeah! I’m planning on going to the meetup next week.”
“Radical!” Avi took the scarf and wrapped it up. “Well ladies, I best be off. Places to see, things to do-“
“Scarves to give,” said Killian with a grin. Avi made finger guns at her before walking out with a final wave. 
Once Avi had left, Carey, Killian, and NO-3113 stood back up to get back to training. Before they could, however, they heard Magnus walking down the hallway. NO-3113’s back was to the door, but she spun when Carey’s eyes widened at its occupant. 
Magnus was leaning on the doorway, clothes ripped. He seemed to be smoking slightly as well, but he had a wild grin on his face as he held up a scroll, which appeared to be miraculously undamaged. 
“Magnus, are you good?” Asked Killian. 
“Yeah! That was the best challenge yet!” As Magnus chattered enthusiastically, Angus slipped into the room, a slightly sheepish grin on his face. 
Carey turned to the small boy with a grin. “How was the mission, Agent Holmes?”
Angus straightened up a little. “Um, well…” He scrunched his eyebrows together before saying in a low voice, “Ma’am, I don’t have my pencil for my voice.” 
“You don’t need it, kiddo. You don’t need the cover anymore.”
“Oh, ok! Well, I prepared a few spells, with the help of Agent, um, Umbrella-“
At that point, Taako pokes his head into the door. “Agent Umbrella?”
“I was under pressure!”
Taako grinned and mussed with Angus’ hair. “I’m messing with ya, Ang- Sorry, Agent Holmes. Proceed with your report.”
Angus nodded and continued, “The subject was surprised by the addition of magical elements, and stepped right into the fire bolt trap, but adapted quickly and, as you can see, procured the scroll.”
Carey nodded. “Very good, Agent Holmes. Now, Magnus,” she said, turning to her student. “What have we learned from this exercise?”
“How to avoid being set on fire!” Before Carey could respond, he quickly added, “And, probably more importantly, to never assume you know what you’re stepping into.”
“Very good,” Carey said approvingly. “Alright, I think we can be done for the day. Nice scarf, by the way.” NO-3113, who had been distracted by the smoke coiling from his hair, finally noticed the trans pride scarf around his neck. 
“Oh thanks! Someone made it for me a while ago, and it’s still going strong.” A shadow passed over his face. “I think it’s a matching set, actually, I just can’t remember who…” At that point, Taako got a similar look, and NO-3113 remembered Carey and Killian telling her in a low voice her first day here that these two, along with Merle, had strange moments like this, and that the best thing they found to do was let them work through it, then continue the conversation when they were ready. 
It was only a few moments later that Magnus and Taako shook themselves out of whatever had taken hold of their minds. “But yeah, I’m all about pride scarves! They keep me warm, and they have rad colors!” 
“Yeah,” Carey responded, easily sliding past the lapse. “Avi’s getting an aro one for Johann.”
“Oh, those two are adorable,” sighed Taako. “Are they together, or still dancing?”
“Still dancing,” said Killian. 
“Speaking of adorable,” Magnus said in a teasing tone. “That Kravitz seemed to-“
Taako looked down, fidgeting with seam of his coat. “Oh you know, fighting like that just, you know, the tension, the mystery-“
“The accent.” Taako summoned Mage Hand and shoved Killian, who cackled. “Ok, ok, I’ll stop, sorry Taako.”
“It’s fine,” mumbled Taako. “It’s just been a while, I guess.” 
Magnus, who has been grinning at the banter, suddenly got a look of consternation on his face. “Wait, Angus said you helped him, Taako?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Why were you setting me on fire?”
Taako scoffed. “Oh, so it’s ok when the ten year old does it, but when I do it-“
“We’re teammates, don’t you want me ready-“
“Hey, I just want to make sure you’re properly trained!” Magnus threw up his hands at that, and the others in the room were chuckling. Taako shrugged. “Besides, I trust Angus. He wouldn’t have let you get hurt.”
Angus beamed. “Thank you, sir!” 
“Alright, alright,” said Killian, looking at the clock. “We’ve gotta get back to training, so unless you want to do some pushups, we’ll see you later.”
“Absolutely not,” said Taako, backing towards the door. “Come on, Angus, you have to tell me about your magics.”
“Bye! See you all later!” Angus called with a wave, following Taako out the door. 
Magnus looked at Carey. “Am I good?”
“Yeah! Good work today, I might stop by later to do carving stuff.” Magnus gave her a thumbs up, gave a salute to Killian and NO-3113, and walked out. 
NO-3113 watched the door for a little bit, basking in the happiness of all her new friends. She jumped a little when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Killian was standing next to her, head cocked. “What’s the goofy grin for?”
“I’m just happy I get a chance to have this life, to know all of you.” NO-3113 looked away, but not before seeing Killian and Carey exchange a pleased look. 
“We’re glad we get to know you too, NO-3113.” Without warning, Carey stepped forward and hugged her, Killian joining in a moment later. NO-3113 hugger back, careful not to crush her friends. 
Carey looked around at the three of them before throwing her head back and whooping, “Team Sweet Flips forever!” Killian and NO-3113 cheered too, and then they went back to training, their movements and their hearts ever more in sync.
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name-me-regret · 4 years
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Till I Touch The Sky - 3/9
Till I Touch The Sky Chapter Three: The Dark Side
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Summary: The man with the ugly aura is just part of his dream. He isn’t real...
Read on AO3.
FANFICTION MASTER POST
- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
”Looking for heaven under the sky, you and I Barely alive Beautiful words from angels that fall when they fly Sold us a lie
Running from the shadow lost in the night Gotta be brave and have no fear Fighting for the fire wait for the light Gotta be brave 'cause I need you here
In the darkness In the darkness I will find you...”
~The Darkness - Built By Titan - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
May 31, 2015, Sunday
Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm himself even if he didn’t know why he was so nervous, because May already knew about him. When he was twelve he had started to become interested in boys as well as girls, he’d asked May if he was bad. There were a lot of people that said that being attracted to the same sex was a sin, and it meant you were evil and would go to hell.
May had sat him down and calmly explained that he was not bad, that he was the kindest and smartest person she’d ever met. She’d told him that it didn’t matter what gender he liked, as long as he was happy. That she wouldn’t love him any less if he brought a boy home instead of a girl; she’d accept him no matter what.
So, she knew about him being Bisexual, and that’s why he didn’t know why he was nervous about asking her if they could go to the Pride Parade on the 25th. It was entitled ‘Fight For Love’, which was a very fitting name in his opinion. Those of the LGBT+ community had had to fight on whom they could love for a long time, and even these days, they were still fighting.
This was the second June that he would be out to May, since he had come out to her two years ago, just before Ben had been killed (it was still painful for him to think of that) in October. They’d been mourning him during Pride month last year. He wasn’t over it, since he didn’t think it was possible to be over the death of the man that had raised Peter from when he’d been four years old.
However, he felt like he could be more him, and thought that going to his first Pride parade was the first step. He wouldn’t go to extremes or anything like that, but he did want to be able to go and see what it was like. Also, maybe starting small like wearing a Bi pin starting tomorrow would be nice. He’d already researched his colors and he found that he liked the combination of magenta, lavender and royal blue that made up his Pride flag.
Now, he just had to tell May, who would need to go with him since he was underage and the prospect of going to a Parade that usually had thousands attend was frightening. So, he needed her to come with him, but just them, since Christopher didn’t know about his sexuality. He wasn’t sure he wanted him to know anyways, since they weren’t friends and Peter certainly didn’t consider him family.
“Um, May,” he started hesitantly.
The woman lifted her head from where she was currently reading a book. It was one of her rare days off on a Sunday and they’d spent a lazy day at the apartment, only leaving when they went to buy Thai food. Peter had gone to finish the last of his homework and she’d cracked open a much loved novel. He’d taken a quick shower afterwards and slipped on some pajama pants and one of Ben’s old shirts, getting ready for their movie night as the sky started to darken.
“Yes, honey?” she said, a slightly nostalgic smile lifting her lips when she noticed the too large shirt he was wearing. When they’d moved there, most of Ben’s stuff had been put away in storage, but Peter had kept several of his clothes like shirts, some pajamas, a jacket or two and an old blue hoodie from Ben’s Academy days.
“So, I wanted... to ask you something,” he said, shuffling in place. He hadn’t moved from the mouth of the hallway that led to their rooms and the bathroom. “You know that tomorrow’s Pride Month.”
May paused and her head lifted as a thoughtful expression went over her face. “Oh yeah,” she said, nodding once. “I can’t believe it’s already June. It’s almost the end of the school year.”
“Right,” Peter said, cutting her off before they went off topic. She looked at him again. “So, I was wondering... if it would alright...” He paused and bit his lip, hesitant. What if he was asking too much? May was straight and maybe it wasn’t right to ask her to take him to the parade.
He flinched when he felt a touch on his face, and realized that May had gotten up and walked over when Peter had trailed off. “What is it, sweetie? You know you can tell or ask me anything.”
Peter inhaled and decided to just bite the bullet. “Can you take me to the Pride Parade?”
“Oh,” she said and then, “sure.” Just like that. “Did you want to get a flag for it? Maybe Chris can come...”
“He... he doesn’t know, right?”
May shook her head. “Of course not. It’s up to you if you want to tell him.”
“I don’t want him to know,” he said quickly. “I just... want it to be the two of us, please?”
The woman smiled and nodded, smoothing back his hair. “That’s fine, honey. It can be just me and you then. So, about that flag...?”
Peter merely grinned at her.
- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
June 4, 2015, Thursday
Peter was super excited for today, since it was an intern day, which had quickly become his favorite time of the week. He still had school the next day, which was a bummer since he always felt like he needed the weekend to recover from that exciting two hours. However, Mr. Stark (“Call me Tony, kid.”) was always busy on Friday, so Thursday were intern days. The only good thing about it was that tomorrow was the last day of classes before summer break started, and then he’d be at the lab during the week (he was given time off between the week if he asked), and have Saturday and Sunday off.
Mr. Stark didn’t work personally with him, but that’s the day he went to inspect the intern labs, so that’s when Peter was there. He couldn’t make much progress in two hours one day out of the week, but he had shown some improvement. Perhaps when school started back up he’d be able to come twice a week instead of the usual one day. Well, after the madness of start of term was over, since the first week was always the hardest, especially since it would be Peter’s Freshman year of High School.
He left the school building ten minutes early, having given permission to do so due to his internship. Peter was glad for it, since that way he didn’t get stuck in the crush of students as everyone left school, trying to get out as quick as possible to catch either the bus, get to the line of cars of their waiting parents, or to catch their train.
When he arrived at the station, he barely made it onto his train before the door closed, breathing heavily. He clutched his backpack and sat down in one of the only seats available. The mother and her little girl next to him edged away from Peter because he was wearing a breathing mask. He was wearing it since the air in the subway was pretty bad that he knew without it, he’d have an asthma attack.
“I have asthma,” he said in a muffled voice to her, motioning to the mask. “It’s hard to breathe down here without it.”
She still hadn’t scooted back as she turned away from him, looking like Peter had told her he had an infectious disease instead of asthma. Well, he guessed he couldn’t blame her, since it was still spring and the probability of getting the flu was still possible. It’d be worse for him if he got it, so he was the one that should be scooting away. Luckily his other side had the door, and that way he could get out quickly and not get stuck in the crowd. It’d be a relief that others would avoid getting too close to him due to mask, thinking he was sick.
He arrived at the tower without any more problems, glad that there was a side entrance that was used for employees. Peter didn’t want to go through the front since he would likely be forced to take his mask off. His asthma was getting worse, and his constantly inflamed airways making it very difficult to breathe. He’d been thinking that constantly wearing a mask would help, but that would mean adding disposable masks to their shopping list and he refused to be more of a burden to his aunt. It was bad enough that he had to always be hospitalized, making May miss work (since Medicaid paid for most of his hospital bills), and he didn’t want to add to her worries.
He swiped his card and set his hand on the panel next to the elevator, the doors opening up after the panel lit up as it scanned his hand print. Peter stepped inside and sighed when it was empty, although he was under no illusion that it would stay like that by the time he reached the intern’s lab, which was on the 17th floor. The floors 17 through 36, and the higher one got, the higher their level was. That’s why Peter was on the 17th floor, since he’d just started and in this particular building, he was the only high school intern.
He stepped off the elevator and breathed a bit easier, even pulling down his mask so it only rested over his mouth. The air in the building was purified, which is why the windows didn’t open. They had emergency exits in place, of course, and emergency power. A city wide power outage wouldn’t affect them though, since Stark Tower was connected to its own personal power grid.
“Hey, Pete!” Jacob called out. He was a dark skinned, black haired 21 year old college intern that was in his third year at ESU. He was in charge of the low level teams of interns on the 17th floor, their supervisor, if you will. Jacob was a really nice guy and didn’t put him down for being the only high school intern (still middle school, but would be in his Freshman year of high school next year) among the rest of the other interns.
Peter sat at his desk, the surface covered in pieces of electronics from the things he was working on. He’d already finished the smaller version of the web-shooter and the patent had finally come through last week. It’d already started to sell, exclusively to hospitals at the moment, but he was hoping that they’d soon be put in standard first aid kits sold over the counter.
It was a half an hour after he’d gotten there that Tony Stark appeared, and it was always the case. Peter didn’t want to think that he was the reason for this, but he almost always came to his desk last and thus spent the most time with him. The other interns had started to get jealous of the attention, but at the first sign of them bullying him, Jacob had shut it down hard. He’d even reported one that tried to change his chemicals out and she’d lost her internship.
The others hadn’t gone that far, so when they finally warmed up to him, Peter had given them all. He generally liked the others, who tended to treat him like their kid brother. It was more true for Jacob, who actually had little siblings, one of which was Peter’s age.
“Heya, Pete,” Mr. Stark said as he wandered over to his desk after he’d looked over Andrea’s project, praising her as she preened with a grin. Andrea was the youngest after Peter and was smart as a whip. “Did you make any progress on your robot?”
“Yeah,” he exclaimed, clearing his throat as he felt a tickle. “So, I’ve finally managed to stop it from glitching...” Tony nodded as he finished explaining his advancements, and Peter gave credit to Jacob that had helped him with the programming. He was the best when it came to software, while Peter was more inclined toward hardware, and chemistry and biology. The teenager was very proud of his project, and he wondered if Mr. Stark would allow his friend Ned to come help him with the rest. While he appreciated Jacob’s help, he had to look out for the rest of the interns and couldn’t just concentrate on Peter. He’d ask him before he left, since it was almost summer and didn’t think it’d be a problem for him to come with him maybe once a week.
“That’s some good work, kid,” Tony said, hand ruffling his hair. Just before he walked off he pulled out something from his pocket and tossed it to him, Peter fumbling with it for a moment before he was finally able to catch it between his arm and his chest. The adolescent held it up and was surprised when he saw it was a Stark Industries portable nebulizer, which had come out last week. It was super affordable compared to others on the market, but even then it was out of their price range.
Peter had the machine at the house, which Christopher had gotten them at a really affordable price. So, there was no need for a portable one, even if he felt like he might soon need one as his health worsened.
“What is this?” Peter asked, even if he knew what it was. He just didn’t understand why he was giving this to him.
“I hear a rattling when you breathe,” he said, motioning to the nebulizer. “Your aunt signed the medical release for us to treat you in case you get sick while doing your internship duties. Just let Jacob know if you need more medicine and he’ll let me or Pepper know you need a refill.”
Peter looked at the nebulizer, which was something he was sure wouldn’t have been available to him if it wasn’t due to his internship; because of Mr. Stark. It was different to when Chris had helped them get the BiPAP machine. They had been grateful for the discounted price, but the man had seemed to made it seem like he’d done them a huge favor. Maybe Peter was being biased because he didn’t like this man that was dating his aunt, but he didn’t have to make it seem like he was rubbing it in, that only he could possibly have gotten them the machine at such a good price, and they should be grateful. A kind act wasn’t meant to be thrown in someone’s face.
As for Mr. Stark, he made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, likely knowing Peter would get embarrassed due to his family’s financial situation. Besides, he wasn’t the only one he helped, since he’d seen the man help out the other interns in that offhand way so as not to put anyone on the spot that might be struggling. The man might not seem like it, but he cared a lot about his interns and their general well-being.
He knew he was just one of his interns, but he couldn’t help but think that the man did it for him more than the others. Mr. Stark always ruffled his hair, brought him healthy snacks (the others got chips and sodas, junk food), and before he left he asked if he needed a ride home. He’d never accepted cause he was embarrassed, but appreciated the offer.
Maybe he just looked out for him cause he was the youngest intern there. That had to be it.
- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
June 07, 2015, Sunday
“Remember to put on your breathing treatment before you go to bed,” his aunt said as she rushed to the door, wearing her scrubs as she grabbed her purse and a light jacket since it got a bit chilly during the nights in the hospital.
Peter nodded with a grimace. He’d really grown to hate using the BiPAP machine during the night. Usually it was only three or four hours, but lately his breathing had gotten so bad that he had to wear it all night. That usually resulted in severe dry mouth, a friction burn from the straps of the mask, and he’d started to get headaches that were probably caused by sinus pressure. It kept getting worse everyday, especially his breathing. There was no logical reason as to why it had gotten so bad, and Christopher had even checked the BiPAP and said that neither the machine nor the mask were faulty.
The man ran a startup medical supply company, so he knew all about the machine Peter used, and he said it was fine. So, for now they and their doctor were stumped as to why his asthma was getting so bad. Maybe it was just his shitty body and health, or perhaps it was something else.
“Yeah, alright. Have a good night,” he told his aunt, walking with her to the door. She kissed his forehead goodnight and he closed the door, but left the chain off for when she came home in the morning in case he was still asleep. It was six now, so she should be back by 6:30AM, 7AM at the latest.
Peter groaned as he stretched and plopped down on the couch, pulling out his phone and texted Ned. After a while, they started playing a game together and Peter groaned when he lost. Ned was always the one that was better at gaming than he was. He was yawning a moment later, hand lifted to his mouth as his eyes watered from the force of his yawn.
Well, Peter guessed it was time for bed.
He’d showered earlier that day, and read ahead for the upcoming school year since he’d already finished his summer homework. So, all that was left was to brush his teeth and get in bed. All the lights in the apartment had been turned off except for the light over the stove. His door was usually closed, since he was a hormonal teenager after all, and he needed his privacy. Now that his aunt wasn’t there, he decided to leave it open so there was no need to turn on his fan as the AC in the living room would blow cool air into his room during the night.
Usually, it wasn’t a good idea for the room to be too cold, since he had allergies on top of asthma, which made for a bad combination if he got a sinus cold. So, he usually had to keep his room at about 75 degrees Fahrenheit (24 Celsius), which was still too warm for him. By leaving his door open there would be enough cool air coming in to cool him off, but not cause him any problems.
He looked at the BiPAP machine and frowned, wondering if he could get away with not using it for a single night. He’d had to use it almost every night this week, and frankly, he was sick of it, quite literally some nights. It coated his entire mouth, nose and throat, and no amount of mouthwash could get rid of the taste.
It was gone by the end of the day, but hated not being able to taste his breakfast and dinner. Sometimes it was so bad he even lost his appetite, and he was already too skinny as it was to be missing meals. So, his mind made up, he decided to forgo the treatment just for tonight. He would hate lying to his aunt, but he was just tired of treatments and medicines with no improvement to his health.
He was alone tonight, May having decided he was old enough to not need a babysitter (Finally!). Besides, it wasn’t too warm for being June, and the AC in the living room wasn’t up too high. Peter was sure he’d be alright with not doing his treatment, that woke him up most nights to be violently sick. He wanted to get just one night of uninterrupted sleep.
Peter sighed in content as he snuggled under his blanket, closing his eyes. As he drifted off, he hoped he had a nice dream. He’d been having some bizarre ones lately.
Peter groaned when he opened his eyes and found himself standing next to his bed, looking at himself sleeping peacefully. He wasn’t sure why he kept having this dream, but as he moved out of the room through the wall by choice this time, he guessed he could understand. As he was now, he felt no pain or shortness of breath, like he was untethered from his sickly body. Peter felt strong as he longed to be in real life, with no asthma to hold him back.
Besides, he could go anywhere, but made sure not to accidentally see someone getting dressed or showering again. It might be a dream, but even then, he didn’t want to be a pervert. Mostly, he stuck with going in people’s living rooms to see how they lived (or how his mind assumed they lived in his dream). Peter was just glad he had gotten the hang of actual walking instead of floating around out of control all the time, passing through the walls and people.
He paused in the hallway when he thought he heard something, but as always, everything not in his immediate area was super fuzzy and dark. As for people, they were almost colorless in skin tone as well as their clothes, but around them would be a faint colorful glow. His knowledge of fantasy and supernatural movies gave him the knowledge to know that these were auras. Although, since this was a dream, he wasn’t sure if it applied here.
Peter heard something again down the hallway, like something jiggling and that was followed by the sound of wood splintering. He walked closer with more bravado than Peter would have felt in real life. The area got brighter as he approached the window at the end of the hallway, which led onto the fire escape on that side.
A man seemed to morph from the shadows, but it was just the room getting brighter now that he was in this area. Peter didn’t recognize this man, who was pushing open the window and climbing inside, not even bothering to close it again. His aura was ugly to look at, a mix of red and purple with streaks of black in it, and he had an air of danger to him. Peter might have been afraid of the man, but he wasn’t even looking at him, looked right through him when he lifted his gaze. That’s right, no one could see him in his dreams. He was always only an observer.
When he started walking toward him, Peter scrambled out of his way, since the teenager didn’t want to go through him. Whenever a person walked through Peter, or he went through another person, he was bombarded with mental images (he assumed they were fragments of memories), thoughts, and feelings all jumbled up. It was like someone shoved them violently into his head between his eyes.
It was not a pleasant experience (and the headache he woke up with was always explained away as an affect of the medicine that manifested in the dream), and he definitely wanted to avoid what that kind of aura would do to him. Peter knew it was a dream, but the idea of touching that ugly aura was frightening to him, that it might even hurt for real.
For lack of a better thing to do, since there didn’t seem to be anyone else around, he followed the menacing man. ‘So, I haven’t seen you around here before, Mister Stranger. I’d know, since I’ve visited almost everyone on this floor at least twice. I’m not a creep though, just curious, and I always stay in the living room. Well, unless there’s no one at home, which isn’t common because I always seem to come around after everyone is asleep.’
He stopped his babbling when the man stopped at the Jones’s apartment door. ‘Oh, do you know the twins? Hailey and Riley are like, super pretty. They’re a year older than me. I think they go to the public high... hey, what are you doing?’ The man had tried the door and when he found it locked, he took out a small tool kit which he was now using on the lock. ‘Are... you picking the lock like those spy movies?! Are you a spy, Mister Stranger?’
His smile and excitement vanished when he pushed it open, and when the chain on the inside stopped it, the man gave an animalistic snarl and kicked the door open. It slammed into the wall violently as the chain was ripped off the wooden door frame. The man stepped into the apartment, and Peter panicked and flung himself at the man. He screamed as he went through him and got a bombardment of hate, anger, and murder! from the man. The fragments of memories were of a woman cowering away from him, protecting two small children. He recognized them all; Hailey, Riley and Miss Jones.
Peter was flung away, falling so fast that he was sure he was going to die.
The fourteen year old gasped as he shot up in bed, one hand clutching his head that was splitting open with a headache, and the other flung off the blanket. Peter scrambled out of bed, his chest tight and he was unable to breathe. Even then, he staggered out of his room and to the front door, his heart a frantic tattoo inside his rib cage as he threw open the door of his apartment.
Peter knew it was a dream, was sure of it, but he had to make sure. He had to know they were safe, or he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
He stumbled down the hallway as the door of his apartment closed behind him, knees buckling beneath him and his lungs burning as the room spun. Peter lifted his head when he was almost there and was horrified to see the Jones’s apartment door wide open. He gasped in air that could barely pass through his swollen airway, his eyesight darkening around the edges. Peter heard a muffled scream, a call for help as he stood there, struggling to breathe.
‘No, this can’t be real!’
They’re in danger!
‘They were all dreams! It can’t be real!’
They’re in danger!
‘It was... real. All of it had been real.’
THEY’RE IN DANGER!
Peter forced himself to take three more steps, reaching for the fire alarm and pulling it down. As the shrill sound of the alarm started up, Peter collapsed face down on the floor. Just before unconsciousness took him, the man with the ugly aura from his dream ran out of the broken-in apartment.
Then everything else around Peter went dark just like in his dream that wasn’t really a dream, ceasing to exist.-
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readyourimgaines · 5 years
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Chapter Two: One Step at a Time
Another shout out to @thatbarricade for continuing to Beta Read and help with hcs and such to be added in as I go. -Freddie
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Combeferre knocked on the door of Enjolras’ parents. A blonde woman opened it; the three young men could see where Enjolras got his looks from.
“I’m not buying anything.” She went to close the door but Courfeyrac caught the handle and held it open.
“Good, ‘cause we’re not selling anything,” Grantaire said. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“What?” The woman’s eyes widened.
“Ma’am, we’re friends of your son, Julien. We came to get the rest of his things. I’m sure you don’t care too much, but he’s safe and cared for.” Ferre explained.
“I’m Combeferre, this is Courfeyrac and Grantaire.”
“He’s alright?” The woman covered her mouth with her hand.
“Perfectly. He’s staying with me and my boyfriend.” Ferre nodded. “We won’t be here long, don’t worry.” Ferre lead the other two into the house and up the stairs, Enjolras’ mother running after them.
“I’ll help you pack his things.” She pointed them in the direction of her son’s room.
“Why?” R questioned. “You didn’t stop anything that happened last night.”
The woman didn’t have an answer for that. She wasn’t about to admit to these strange young men that she was often intimidated by her husband and that she adored her son’s bravery to stand up to him and for what he believed in.
“He’s still my son.” She settled with after a moment. “No matter who he loves.”
R looked at the woman and shook his head, going to help Courf pack Enjolras’ books while Ferre packed his clothes into a duffle bag and suitcase he found in the closet.
Mrs. Enjolras left the room for a few seconds to get a box in which she put picture frames and little knick-knacks he had kept around the room.
“Woah. Who’s that?” R motioned to a picture of a young person with dark hair that reached their chin. Ferre looked over R’s shoulder and chuckled.
“Our friend Jehan. Enj took a photography class last year and Jehan modelled for him.”
“Is Jehan a girl or a guy?” R had to ask.
“They’re non-binary, actually. I don’t know what their sex is… Enj might. He’s known them longer than I have.”
“Books are set,” Courf said simply. He picked up the box.
“I’m gonna run these to R’s truck.” Grantaire followed behind him.
Mrs. Enjolras took down three little cloth flags held to the wall with push-pins. One was an American flag, which she assumed he got at a Fourth of July parade; another was rainbow, the last was striped yellow, white, purple, and black.
“What are these flags?” she asked.
“The rainbow one is the gay pride flag and the other one’s nonbinary pride for Jehan,” Ferre stated. He closed the last dresser drawer and looked at the woman.
“We live at 229 White Street. You can come to see him if you want to, but if your husband comes and tries to touch him… We’ve got friends that don’t want to see someone else fall subject to a hate crime.” Ferre paused. “If he wasn’t 17, I’d call the cops and report your husband, Mrs. Enjolras. Wait at least a week if you decide to come. He’s still calming down from everything.”
“Thank you. For what you’re doing.”
“It’s nothing an older brother wouldn’t do.” Ferre slug the duffle bag over his shoulder and picked up the suitcase.“I hope to see you soon, Mrs. Enjolras.” He took the box from her hands and headed out to the truck where the other two were waiting.
Once she heard the front door close, she sat on her son’s old bed, picked up one of his pillows, and breathed in the faint scent of her son’s shampoo as she cried.
*****
Enjolras sat on his new bed in Ferre and Courf’s rented house with his arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked back and forth, trying to even his breathing. He still couldn’t breathe properly. The front door opened, closed, and his breathing only got worse.
“Enj?” Courf called.
Enjolras took deep breaths through his nose and exhaled through his mouth in an attempt to calm himself down, but it only had the reverse effect.
“Julien?” Ferre tried. He walked to Enjolras’ new room and could hear the laboured breathing through the door. He opened the door just enough for him to get through and closed it behind him, going straight to the bed. He sat next to Enjolras and took one of his clammy hands, pressing it to his own heart.
“You’ve got to follow my breathing, alright? In and out. Slow and easy. In for four seconds, hold for seven, and release over eight.” Ferre explained gently, his voice was just loud enough to be heard over the younger’s fast, panicked breathing.
It took a few tries, but Enjolras was able to match his best friend’s breathing and slowly the dizziness went away, although the light-headedness lingered. He wanted to stop the panic attack before they got home so he wasn’t adding to the worry that he knew Ferre was already going through.
Combeferre pulled Enjolras into a hug as his breathing finished levelling out. “You’re alright. We got your stuff from your parents and you can arrange the room how you want. Courfeyrac and Grantaire are working on lunch so there’ll be food in a little bit.”
Enjolras nodded, even though most of the information was more or less passing through one ear and right out the other without really being helpful. Ferre figured this was the case and just squeezed his little brother a bit tighter and pressed a kiss to hair, a hand rubbing his back lightly.
“Panic attacks are hell; I know.” Ferre continued to rub Enjolras’ back.
“How about we ask R to spend the night see about a movie night? You haven’t seen The Two Towers until you’ve seen it with ‘Taire, and he’s doing his Treebeard impression along with the movie.” That got a chuckle from the blonde, and Combeferre grinned.
*****
“Hobbits? Never heard of a Hobbit before. Sounds like Orc mischief to me.” Grantaire’s voice was two octaves deeper than normal, and Enjolras found himself wondering how it didn’t hurt his vocal cords.
“They come with fire! They come with axes! Gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning! Destroyers and usurpers, curse them!”
Enjolras could no longer hold in his laughter as it bubbled up from his throat. The sound made Grantaire and Ferre grin at each other. Courf was half paying attention and was on his phone. R had tried to snatch it on a few occasions but had yet to be successful.
“How many times have you seen this movie?” Enjolras asked, still laughing.
“Too many,” Courf groaned. “In high school, every sleepover, every birthday party, we watched this. Rarely one of the other two. Just The Two Towers.”
“You also don’t want to know how many times I’ve read the books.” Grantaire chuckled.
“By the way, if none of you know what to get me for my birthday I’ve read my giant anthology to death, so a new copy would be greatly appreciated.”
“I hardly ever watched these. I was only allowed to at Jehan’s,” Enjolras admitted. So that explained why his eyes were glued to the TV.
“Your parents didn’t let you watch them?” Courf’s voice was flooded with confusion.
“No. My parents are devout Roman Catholics. They filtered what I watched and read more closer than Russia. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, those books about the kids that find the magical land in the clo-”
“The Chronicles of Narnia?” Grantaire stopped Enjolras short. “Your parents didn’t let your watch or read The Chronicles of Narnia?”
“No.”
“And I thought my parents were fucked up.” R stood from the couch and walked into the kitchen to get more soda for the group.
“Oh, yours are,” Ferre laughed. “Yours were too lenient.”
“What are you talking about? I learned a lot on their unlocked computer,” he laughed. “I shouldn’t be laughing about this. Enjolras, I'm a deeply troubled man.”
“It’s the demon possessing you and making you gay.” Enjolras waved a dismissive hand and got a laugh from each of the three men.
“Oh! Ferre, I was texting Jehan earlier and they said they’ll help me look for work.”
“Shit. You’re looking for a job?” Grantaire asked when he came back into the room, handing each of his friends a can of soda.
“I got a place. Hold on.“ He dug his hand into his jeans pocket to retrieve his phone; his fingers became a blur, and Enjolras wondered how anyone could form a coherent sentence typing that fast.
“Where?” Ferre furrowed his brow.
“I don’t wanna jinx it. Just gimme a sec.” It was closer to a minute, but R’s phone eventually went off.
“You’re 18 next month, right?”
“Yeah…” Enjolras looked between Ferre and Grantaire.
“Worked. You know where the Café Musain is?” Grantaire asked.
“No.”
“I’ll show you tomorrow. You’ve got a job as a barista. Pick a shift and you’re good. Noon to five, one to six, or three to eight.”
“One to six, I guess?” Enjolras was just as confused as Ferre and Courf were.
“How did you pull this?” Courf asked for the rest of them.
“So, I’ve got this friend- Eponine- and she works there, but is also really good friends with the owners so she’s more or less in charge of hiring people. Told her Enj was looking for a job, they’ve been trying to replace a guy that left for the summer, and here we are.”
“Uh, thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. You’re gonna love the place. The atmosphere is amazing, the workers are nice. It’s technically on the college compass so it’s really fucking diverse. You should take your friend Jehan some time.”
“I’ll talk to them about it after my shift tomorrow.”
“I still can’t believe that you haven’t seen the Chronicles.” Courf shifted and leaned against Ferre.
“We should start tomorrow with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I don’t work till three, so…”
“I’m starting at one, apparently,” Enjolras reminded.
“So we watch the first two movies then R can get you to work!” Courf clapped his hands together, clearly not take no for an answer.
*****
“It’s 20 to eleven. Nothing’s going to be open.” Enjolras adjusted how he was sitting.
“There’s Walmart like five miles away.”
“Oh dear god.” Ferre leaned forward and hid his face in his hands.
“There’s no way I’m going to Walmart. For one thing, it’s a soul-sucking, sold out corporation. Second of all, the workers are extremely underpaid for how much they work; I’ve read they hardly even get holiday bonuses.
“That’s not even touching on the lack of hygiene in the entire store- sealed food included. Jehan bought a bag of rice from there once. There were ants in the bag, and the-the ignoramuses wouldn’t let them return it. I mean, you can’t even be angry at the workers because people in polos are just working for soulless idiots in suits.”
Grantaire blinked. “Well shit. Fine.” He put on the turn indicator and pulled up to a drive-through. He rattled off his, Ferre’s, and Courf’s usual orders with a pout and let Enj say his before driving to the pick-up window. Courf sat in the back seat of the truck next to Enj and was trying not to laugh at the annoyed look on Ferre’s face and the slightly proud look Enjolras wore.
“So you’re okay with Dairy Queen but won’t set foot in a Walmart?”
“I have...fewer problems with Dairy Queen, yes.”
“Noted.” Grantaire nodded. Ferre leaned over, hid his mouth behind his hand.
“Never mention StarBucks,” Ferre whispered in R’s ear. The darker-haired young man just laughed.
When the Dairy Queen worker appeared in the window with their order, R handed her his debit card. Once everything was paid for, he handed the ice creams out.
“I can pay you ba-”
“Don’t even worry about it.” R pulled back onto the street, his Blizzard in the cupholder. “I wanted ice cream, my treat.”
*****
Back at the apartment, Courf fell asleep half an hour into The Return of the King and Grantaire wasn’t far behind. Enjolras and Combeferre were still awake when Pippin took the palantír from a sleeping Gandalf.
“How are you holding up, Enj?” Ferre’s question was whispered so he wouldn’t wake the other two.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It might help.”
“Maybe. I just-just I don’t know. I mean...it was the family game night they push every Friday and...and Rene was losing and said it was ‘gay.’ I told him he shouldn’t use the word like that because some people find offensive.
“He said there wasn’t anyone in the house that should be offended by it and I was dumb enough to say I was. I was so tired of hearing him say things were gay, or faggy, and it just went on and on and I couldn’t listen to it anymore. So he knocked me out of my chair, punched me, and said I had ten minutes to leave the house.”
Combeferre didn’t know what to say. He just stared at Enjolras and the younger shifted, uneasy under his gaze. “I know there’s not much to say, but I do want to say I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go or who else to call and this isn’t your job. I shouldn’t have put this much pressure on you and Courfeyrac. I’m sorry.” He quickly wiped his eyes as he felt tears forming again.
“And I should stop crying. I don’t think I’ve ever cried this much.”
Combeferre hugged Enjolras, more or less pulling the blonde to sit in his lap. “I know I speak for both Courfeyrac and me when I say that you aren’t a burden, stress, pressure, whatever you want to call it. I care about you, Courf already does. Hell, even Grantaire likes you and he’s the most cynical person I’ve ever met, so that’s saying something.
“I promise you’re safe and welcomed here. And you didn’t even have to ask me before you invite Jehan over.” That brought a giggle from Enjolras. “You’re safe here, and I’ll keep reminding you as often as I have to for it to get through this thick skull of yours.”
Combeferre ruffled Enjolras’s hair again and pressed a kiss to the top of the blonde locks. “Get some sleep, my friend. Things are going to be just fine.”
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victory-cookies · 5 years
Text
Pride Picnic
Poet leaned their head to rest on Penny's shoulder. In front of them, waves splashed onto the pier with quiet crashes.
"Thank you for coming out with me, Pen," Poet whispered in Penny's ear. She gave her a small kiss. "I love you."
Penny reached up and ran her fingers though Poet's hair. "I love you too."
The two of them sat in silence for a while, watching the waves crash accompanied by the sounds of voices from the pier and seagulls overhead.
***
"Light strokes, Ing. You don't wanna take off too much wood at one time." Tess held her carving in front of her, scraping the knife over in demonstration for a focused Ingrid, who tried in vain to replicate her actions.
Ingrid's knife dug in, and she sighed. "Ah, shoot, I went to deep, didn't I?" she asked, looking sadly at the large chunk she had just taken out of her carving. "Look at it! It looks like a deformed pigeon!"
Tess laughed. "It looks fine, babe. And you've gotten a lot better already. You'll have the hang of it in no time!"
Ingrid smiled, setting down the wood and knife. "Alright then, if you say so."
***
Josh quickly tore open the letter, pulling out the paper within and unfolding it. He grinned as he began to read.
Dear Josh,
Happy Pride Month! You're a cool and valid little man, you know that? Anyway, I hope you're doing well.
As he scanned through the letter, his smile grew wider and wider. Leave it to Megan to record every detail of the past month just so that he wouldn't have to miss anything.
Oh, Tina and Avery were over last week, and they said to say hi. Mom and Dad miss you a bunch too. Come home and visit soon, okay? We miss you.
Talk to you later, Megan
Josh sighed happily. It was good to hear from his sister, even if she did ramble on.
***
Jonas ran to the kitchen. "You guys got all the stuff? I'm gonna go get the others, and you bring it out to the back."
"You got it," replied Marcus, picking up a picnic basket. "See you on the hill in a few."
Jonas saluted him and disappeared.
***
Not a few minutes later, Clive, Mariah and Marcus stood on the hill in the backyard, shaded by the few trees they'd chosen to camp under.
"He ought to be here with them any second now..." Clive said.
There was a pop beside them, and Jonas appeared, his hands on the shoulders of rather shocked looking Poet and Pen. He then disappeared again, only to reappear with Ingrid and Tess.
"What the fuck?" Tess asked, looking around in surprise.
"You'll see," replied Jonas, teleporting away and returning with a confused Josh.
He ran to stand in front of everyone, panting. Shaking slightly, he threw his arms up. "Happy Pride Month! We're having a picnic!"
Marcus, Mariah and Clive opened up their picnic baskets to reveal a bounty of food. Everyone gasped in excitement.
Sandwiches, cupcakes, and various pride themed goodies were immediately passed out between them all, and they sat down on the hill, chatting happily. For a while, they simply sat and ate, laughing and relaxing.
Suddenly, a laugh came from the trees. "Aw, heck yeah! This is rad!"
They all looked up to see Vic sitting on the branch of a nearby tree. Affixed to her garnet cloak was a small bisexual flag pin. She waved.  "Hi guys!"
They all waved back. "Hey, Vic!" Marcus shouted.
"Y'all having a good pride?" Vic asked.
Everyone nodded and murmured in affirmation.
She grinned. "Awesome... I was thinking that... hmm..." Then her eyes lit up. "Hold on, I got an idea!"
She clapped her hands together, and suddenly their clothes transformed into their pride flags, much to their excitement.
"Oh, fuck yeah," Poet exclaimed, looking at the demigirl-themed suit she'd been given. "And I've got bi socks too!"
Vic laughed. "I'm glad you like 'em." She then surveyed the hill they were sitting on. "You know what? What's the point of having cool powers if you're never gonna use 'em?"
She faced her palms towards the ground, and energy began to surround them. It then swept across the hill in an opaline wave, and in its wake, the hill was suddenly covered with thousands of rainbow flowers.
"There we go." She slid down from the tree. "Happy pride, guys. Now, mind if I join you?"
Jonas held out a cupcake. "It'd be a pleasure."
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sinsiriuslyemo · 6 years
Text
Good afternoon, guys!! Here is the next episode of Cuba v DR!!
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EPISODE 13
You knew it was bad news the second Eddie called just as you were getting out of your first couple’s therapy session to meet you at home. He’d said he wanted to talk and wanted both you and Nevada there, another red flag in your mind. Now you sat sipping your cafe con leche beside your husband with a tight grip on the cup.
“What do you think is wrong?” you asked softly. “Do you think he owes the Triad?”
Nevada couldn’t help the laugh that burst from him. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked. “Oye, you’re gonna break that cup.”
“Since when does he call a family meeting?”
“Baby, you’re being paranoid, even for you. It’s not a family meeting, he just said he wanted to talk, right?” Nevada said, propping one foot on the coffee table as his arm draped over the back of the couch behind you.
“Baby?” you asked, arching a brow.
“Yeah,” he replied, bobbing his shoulders. “You made me go to that couples therapy shit, and the therapist said, we gotta start trying to meet each other halfway. You said you like that lovey-dovey shit, so I’m trying to meet you halfway,” he answered softly. “Cut me some slack here.”
You took a deep breath and sighed. “You're right, it's probably nothing.”
“How’s Lily doing in school?”
“She's being quiet, a bit withdrawn but she seems a bit better.”
“That’s good--” Nevada was cut off by a knock on the door and he got up to open it. “Oye, tell your tia that she was being paranoid for no reason.”
Eddie furrowed his brows. “Tia what's wrong?” He moved to you, giving you a tight hug and kissing your cheek. “I'm sorry I made you worry, I just needed to talk to you both.”
“What about?” you asked as you stroked his hair. He was so grown now, it made you want to cry.
“Oye, what are you crying about?” Nevada asked, looking down at you.
“Greyson got offered a really amazing job,” Eddie said with a smile.
Nevada looked at his nephew. “Oh, good for him.”
“It's in Miami,” he added. “And I'm going to go with him…” It had taken him a while to adjust to the idea but he knew in his heart Greyson was it for him, he'd be stupid to let that go.
Nevada’s brows shot up on his forehead as he drew the corners of his lips downward. “Coño, good for you. What are you gonna do there?”
“I'm gonna transfer to the University of Miami and finish my degree. Then I'll see how it goes from there.”
“That's amazing sweetheart,” you said softly and pulled him into another hug. You already missed him.
“Still wanting to be a lawyer?” Nevada asked.
Eddie nodded. “Yeah, if I play my cards right I'll be the next one with a job offer. But it's gonna be good... safer,” he hesitated on the word, not wanting to upset or hurt either of the people he loved most.
You just nodded and smiled at him. “I knew you'd be one of the ones to get out,” you whispered and kissed his forehead. Immediately Eddie felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
“That’s great, mijo. You getting out, making a life for yourself. That’s all we want for you,” Nevada agreed.
Eddie grinned at both his adopted parents before nodding. “I haven't told him I'm coming along yet. I wanted to tell you guys first...I feel like I'm abandoning the family,” he confessed. “I have three siblings that need me…”
“No, you’re doing what every person does when they get to be your age. You’re starting your own life, making an example for your brother and sisters,” you replied.
“Exactly. You don’t have anything keeping you here, you’re not married, no kids, you gotta take advantage of that. It’s not like you can’t visit whenever you want,” Nevada added.
“You guys really believe I can do it then?” he asked with a smile. “Move out to Miami?”
“Yeah, why not?” Nevada replied with a shrug. “You can take care of yourself, you’re smart…”
“You got this,” you added as you nodded with a grin. “You’re gonna do great...but you better not forget to call every once in awhile, and visit as often as you can.”
“I'd never forget,” Eddie said with a smile. You smiled back, you'd miss him every moment but it was all outweighed by the pride you felt for Eddie. He was making it out.
“Tia thought you owed the Triads money,” Nevada couldn’t help but say with a chuckle. “Exagerada.”
“Oye! I worry! Carajo…he's my baby!”
“I’m not a baby anymore, tia,” Eddie groaned.
“That’s right, mijo, you tell her,” Nevada chimed.
“No, you'll always be my baby,” you said softly and smiled at him. “But you're also so grown, I'm so proud.”
“Yeah, we’re real proud, mijo,” Nevada agreed with a nod.
“Thanks,” Eddie answered, grinning at the both of you. “We still have a lot to do before the move, but...I think it’ll be good for us.”
“So do I,” Nevada said. “Get out of all this, away from the bullets...and now we have an excuse to come to Miami to see you.”
“Oh Miami,” you mused with a grin. “Now I'm really warming up to the idea,” you teased.
Eddie smiled at both of you. He felt significant relief. Things were going to be okay, he was sure of it.
Omar stood beside Jose in the club. The dancers all were either with customers in the VIP section or on stage. The few patrons that were in the club were all businessmen either on their lunch break or hosting a “business meeting.”
“Is it me, or is this the slowest day we've had since we took over?” he asked, looking over at the man beside him.
Jose bobbed one shoulder. “It’s lunchtime. Not usually packed during the day.”
“Still, we usually have more people than this. We should try to do some promotional stuff. Get more people in here,” Omar answered.
Jose snorted a laugh. “I guess, hard to bring in people during work hours though.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before turning his head to Omar. “So I hear you’re looking for a roommate.”
“Yeah,” Omar answered. “Back in the day I lived with Manny, but since he moved to Attica, that’s out. Why? You interested?”
“My place isn't an option anymore. So yeah, I'm looking for somewhere new.” He gave a half shrug.
“Been trying to get my old place back,” Omar replied. “Extra room is yours if you want it.”
“How much for rent?”
“Not much. It’s rent controlled, so won’t ever go up.”
Jose nodded. “I'll take it.”
“Alright, sounds like a plan. I’m meeting up with Milagros later, so I’ll let you know if and when we can move in,” Omar said. He happened to glance up just as Destiny walked in for her shift and nodded a polite hello to her.
She offered a smile in return, giving him a friendly wave before heading to the dressing room.
“What’s going on with that?” Jose asked, having seen the exchange.
“Nothing,” Omar replied with a bob of his shoulders. “We took the kids to the park a few weeks ago.”
“Oh yeah, she's got one of them. Did Fallon have fun?” Jose asked with a quirked brow.
“Yeah, I mean she’s one, so she probably doesn’t know the difference,” Omar answered, shrugging.
“I dunno man, babies are like little slot machines. Gotta get the right combo to win with them. Eddie, cuando era un niño, used to think it was funny when I changed his diaper,” he said. “Fuckin’ funniest thing he'd seen all day apparently.”
“It’s cause they don’t know the real world yet,” Omar replied. “Either way, it was too weird. We probably won’t do it again,” he added.
“It's always a shit show when men and women are friends anyway.”
“That’s not true, it’s just that A) I’m technically her boss, what the fuck are we supposed to talk about? That’s why I don’t ever get involved with the dancers. And moreover B) I just got divorced, I don’t need to be dealing with another woman in my life,” Omar replied.
Jose shrugged. “Whatever you gotta do.” He patted Omar on the back before his brows furrowed as he noticed a patron sitting by himself. “You see the guy in the corner? Hasn't touched a drink or a dancer since he's come in.”
Omar turned his head to look; sure enough, sitting at a corner table was a man, dressed in casual clothes, looking around discreetly.
“Might be an inspector,” Omar said before he turned back to look at Jose with knitted brows. “We supposed to be having one this week?”
“No, we had one last month. It's too early for that.” Jose frowned and looked at the man. “Doesn't have a notepad like an inspector either.”
Knitting his brows, Omar started to walk over when the man stood up, taking one last look around. He met eyes with Omar and nodded once before he turned and left the club.
“We should tell Nevada,” Omar said, looking back at Jose.
“Go ahead, I'm gonna keep an eye out for a second.” Jose crossed his arms, frowning at the exit door.
“What do people exactly do at these kinds of parties?” Roxie asked as she wrote down names on envelopes for Rafael to then stamp. They had planned last minute to throw a gender reveal party as a compromise for not waiting until the baby was born to find out whether it was going to be a boy or a girl.
“I mean, whatever we want,” Rafael answered. “Usually you play games that either centers around the two of us or whether the baby will be a boy or a girl.”
She chuckled, “Like pin the nappy on the baby doll?” she teased.
“No, like...maybe we could make cookies, half in the shape of an apron, half in the shape of a briefcase and have people choose what they think the baby is,” he answered, immediately thinking of more activities as if the party was coming together in his mind. “Or we could make a list of things first time parents normally do and people can guess which one of us is likely to do what. Or we could get a board and write down our favorite names for a boy and a girl and people can pick which ones they like best. We can have prizes, blue and pink drinks, food…”
“I didn’t know I married such a party planner,” she mused as she jotted down his ideas. “What if I bake pink and blue cupcakes.”
“Sure...speaking of which, I’m surprised you were so calm giving the sealed envelope to another baker so she could bake the cake,” he replied with a smirk.
“I’m more frustrated about someone else baking the cake than someone else knowing. But I am eager to know who is in here,” she whispered with a poke to her belly.
“Well that was my point, I thought you might try to tell me that you make the cake blindfolded just so you could bake it,” he replied with a chuckle. “You think my sister will actually come to this?”
“I hope so. Have you spoken to her?”
“No,” he answered in a sigh.
“What about your mum?” she asked, stroking the back of his head.
“No,” he mumbled.
“You should try to reach out before the party,” she suggested.
He sighed heavily, putting a stamp on the envelope that would be sent to your place. “Yeah, I guess I’ll give her a call later.”
Picking up the next envelope, the hand that held a new stamp paused as he stared at the name. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound casual as he said, “You invited Amber and Troy.”
“Yes, of course. She’s my friend.”
His jaw clenched at the reminder. “What if I don’t want her there?”
“I don’t understand, she was at our wedding and you seemed fine. You see her at every Sunday dinner. What’s the difference?”
The difference was that Sunday dinner was out of his control, and her showing up at the wedding was him compromising, but he hated that Amber was able to insert herself so easily into his personal life.
“Nothing,” he replied softly, resentfully putting a stamp on the envelope despite his desire to burn it. “Just forget it; you want them there, it’s your party too, so I guess we’re inviting them.” He tossed the envelope carelessly in the pile and took up the next one.
“Do you have a preference on food?”
His jaw clenched as he shook his head and bit his upper lip, shaking his head. “No.”
She casually took Amber and Troy’s invitation back. “Stop acting as if your feelings mean nothing. You matter and so does how you feel. I will not have my husband uncomfortable at a party that is partly his.”
“I can grin and bear it if you really want to invite them, Roxie,” he said softly. “She’s your friend, not mine…” He hated saying that. He hated that he’d never explained to Roxie exactly why he didn’t want Amber so involved in his life. Especially because when he’d told some of what had happened between them, she had expected him to simple get over it, just like everybody else. As if he hadn’t already tried to for his own sanity. “So invite her if you want.”
“What did I just say?” She sighed. “I will not have my husband uncomfortable. That is what matters to me. I want us both happy and relaxed at the party.”
“I ignore her at Sunday dinner just fine,” he replied with a bob of his shoulders. “You clearly wanted to invite them, so invite them.”
She tore the invite in half, looking back down to her notes. “What if I made bangers and mash? I think people might like it.”
“Sure,” he replied, stamping another envelope.
They stamped in silence for a few moments before Roxie sighed and rubbed a hand over her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly as he continued to stamp envelopes.
“I don’t like when we argue. I know it’s unavoidable, it just makes me feel sick to my stomach. I just want you to be happy, I know you feel the same about me. I just want to spend our days cuddling until we’re too old to hear if the other person has any disagreements,” she teased.
He smirked softly, eyes still on his task of getting stamps on all the invitations. “I don’t like arguing either but arguments are normal, disagreements are normal. To be honest, it wouldn’t be a real relationship if we never argued. Couples who never argue aren’t comfortable enough with each other to be vulnerable nor express how they really feel. I think we’re lucky, we have the normal amount of arguments and we always talk them through in the end.”
She nodded slowly and hugged him tight. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replied. “We should find a role for Mowgli in all this.”
She chuckled and nodded. “Mowgli!” she called out, looking around. “Where is my fur baby?” The little sound of trotting filled the air as the pig snorted in response and nudged up against her ankles.
“Well, well, well...look who came around to the term fur baby,” Rafael teased.
“Well if you ask me, he’s my regular baby too,” she said in a baby voice as she picked up the pig and kissing his snout. “Because I’m your regular mummy, right?” The pig snorted again as she giggled and hugged him close.
“You think he’ll feel jealous of all the extra attention the baby will need?”
“Of course, he’s the prince of the castle right now,” she said as she set him up on the table, letting him hop back into her lap gently as she smiled. “My smart baby,” she cooed. “I worry that he’ll feel undervalued. I don’t want the new baby to affect his self esteem,” she said as she scratched behind the pig’s ear. “You are a prince, no one will change that. You’re just getting another prince or princess alongside you.”
“We’ll just have to be sure to make some time only for him “ Rafael answered as he scratched behind the pig’s ear. “That’s what they say to do with older siblings anyway.”
The pig trotted into Rafael’s lap, settling down on him.
“He keeps sniffing the birthing tub,” Rafael said after a moment. “You think he’ll try to jump in it when he see you in it?”
“Maybe, would you like us to take you swimming, my love? You want to swim?” She moved off the chair to kneel in front of Rafael where the piglet sat.
“Okay, first of all, he is not swimming in your birthing tub,” Rafael said, smirking before he playfully added, “Secondly, do we need to get the pig to go away for a few minutes?”
She grinned up at him mischievously and leaned forward to kiss Mowgli, eyes looking up at Rafael from beneath her long lashes.
“Mowgli, away with you, sir,” Rafael said, eyes locked on his wife’s.
The piglet landed on the floor, walking off into another room as Roxie was running her fingers up his thighs, just barely missing his groin.
He hummed and bent to kiss her lips softly, sucking her bottom petal. “I love you so much, Mrs Barba.”
“And I you, Mr. Barba,” she whispered as she unzipped his fly.
Omar ran his eyes over his phone as he sat in the passenger's side of the SUV. After a slow morning at the club he and Nevada had decided to check up on one of the warehouse where they would store the guns before moving them.
“Talked to Chastity, she’s already all but forgotten it all,” Omar mumbled. “Although between you and me it’s not a stretch to picture her swiping cards off a John.”
“I already knew she was doing it, and I chewed her ass out for it,” Nevada replied. “Only reason I haven’t tossed her ass out is cause of this prick at the precinct. She already knows, she does it again, I’ll slit her fucking throat wide-the-fuck-open.”
Omar gave a nod of acknowledgement. “This pendejo is really going after you. The last thing we needed was this fucker with a mission. You think you would’ve fucked his daughter the way he’s focused on you.”
“Maybe I did, who knows,” Nevada replied in a chuckle.
As they pulled up to the warehouse, Omar frowned and sat up. Parked across the street from the warehouse was a black, unmarked car. To anyone else it may have just seemed like someone who had simply parked and walked the rest of the way to their destination, but Omar and Nevada knew better.
“Now what?”
“Son of a bitch has this place being watched,” Omar muttered in disbelief. “The balls on this fucker...”
“Fuck it, let’s try the one on 198th,” Nevada said, driving past the car.
Omar nodded, looking back to his phone for a minute. “Hey, what was with your wife and her brother on Sunday? Melissa said it got pretty ugly. She still not talking to him?”
“Not that I know,” Nevada answered. “She hasn't even mentioned him since then.”
Omar snorted a laugh. “It’s not like it takes a lot to get on Dama’s bad side anyway. What’d he do, forget to wipe his feet at the door?”
“A few weeks ago he was talking to Lucia about how my job is dangerous y no se que carajo. Stupid shit, stuff he’s been saying since day one. Thing is, Lily heard them talking. They didn’t know she could hear what they were saying,” Nevada replied. “It was an accident.”
“Lily okay?” Omar asked. “Accidents and shit happen, I get that. But it doesn’t mean it didn’t do shit to the kid. As long as she’s okay, all is forgiven, right? What’s the point in being mad if she’s fine?”
“That’s what I said,” Nevada replied. “I mean she acted weird for a few days. Didn’t wanna talk to me, didn’t even want me around, but as soon as we talked to her, everything got cleared up.”
Omar chuckled. “And Dama’s still mad? Man, she can hold a grudge.”
“You’re telling me,” Nevada mumbled. “Imagine what it’s like living with her,” he added in a chuckle.
“Suddenly I’m very glad to be single,” Omar replied, chuckling as well. “How’s Lily otherwise? I’m sure her head was already jumbled before the Rafael stuff. And her arm. She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good. Still got a little mouth on her,” Nevada answered with a smirk as he turned the corner and his smiled faded. “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mumbled.
He drove past the second unmarked car, again parked directly across the street from his warehouse. Taking out his phone, he called Chibby as he turned the SUV around and headed back to the club. “Oye, I want bird eyes on all the warehouses, we’re on the way back right now...alright, bye.” He hung up the phone. “You believe this shit?” he asked, looking over at Omar.
Omar shook his head. “What are we supposed to do with two cratefuls of heavy artillery?”
Nevada sighed. “We’re gonna have to use the club.”
“You outta your fucking mind, man? Where the hell are we supposed to put them?”
“We can use a couple of the VIP rooms. Tell the girls they’re being deep-cleaned,” Nevada answered.
“Shit, I don’t know about this, bro.”
“It’s two days, we’ll be fine,” Nevada said.
Omar sighed heavily, running a hand over his face and letting his head lean back against the headrest.
“Alright,” he relented finally.
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pongpalace · 7 years
Text
too complicated for simple labels (but they sure do help)
So @ericfuckingbittle​ made these incredible aro!March icons and @abominableobriens​ mentioned something about aro!March in a qpp with Ransom while he’s still dating Holster in their tags and so I projected all my own grey-aro feelings onto March because I’m really not sure there can ever be enough fic about romantic identities and non-romantic relationships.
March has never understood the big deal about crushes.
She’s never had one if she’s being completely honest with herself, always staying quiet when her friends started talking about whose hand they accidentally brushed and if maybe that meant they should ask them to the school dance. There was that one memorable time in the summer before Samwell when March worked at an outdoor summer camp and got tired of staying quiet while her best friend wouldn’t shut up about how much she liked her new boyfriend, how great he was, how Annie still got butterflies when he held her hand, so March said she had a crush on one of the older counsellors. He looked much better when he kept his avatars on and his mouth shut, but his tattoos were pretty cool and with the long days she worked with him, she really didn’t have the time or energy to crush on anyone else and she wanted to try having a crush anyways.
March scraped the crush after the third time she found herself talking about his calves and his ass in the ugly basketball shorts he always wore when Annie and Félix asked her about her crush during one of their biweekly “we’re-overworking-ourselves-now-to-have-money-in-the-school-year-so-treat-yoself” nights. Annie kept talking about the flowers Greg had sent to her desk job, and Félix was going on and on about the eye contact he’d make with a new barista at his favourite coffee shop and March realizes that she never actually wants to talk to her “crush” beyond planning and organizing the activities so the next time it comes up she tells them that she’s gotten over him and that’s the end of March's crush.
♠ ♠ ♠
March goes to a Samwell Pride Society meeting with April at the beginning of the second semester of their frog year. April’s been a part of the Pride Society on campus since they started; she came to Samwell knowing she liked girls way more than she liked guys (“Anything is more than zero,” she’d say with a laugh when the topic of her sexuality came up) and was somehow able to balance being an active member of the club with their volleyball schedule. If she wasn’t at the team house or with March, it was usually a safe bet that April was in the Pride office, tucked away the corner of the Student Union building with the best view of the parking lot. April made sure everyone on the volleyball team knew that they always had an open invitation to go with her to the meetings every week, but because March’s Intro to Geography course in first semester was at the same time, it takes a semester to accept April’s invitation.
The Pride office is exactly what March pictured when she thought of a place for Pride: bowl of condoms and dental dams on the desk; a shelf on the bookshelf stuffed full of pamphlets on how to have safe sex with all genders; boxes of sex toys piled up under a sign that says BINGO PRIZES DO NOT TOUCH (Liam) ; and a giant rainbow flag pinned up on the wall.
“Guys, March; March, guys,” April says, waving a hand at the two guys on the couch before jumping up onto the desk to commandeer the mouse from the gorgeous dark haired girl at the computer.
“Uh, hi guys,” March says to the room at large, moving her arm in a half aborted wave and wishing that April was better at introductions. One of the guys on the couch waves back, cheeks dimpling and nose scrunched like he’s trying not to laugh at her. The other guy pinches him in the thigh and readjusts so they sit closer together, and March takes the invitation to go sit on the couch with them.
“I’m Mason,” the pincher says. He points over his shoulder to the guy whose lap he’s practically sitting in now. “This is Eli. That’s Isabella.” Mason almost knocks Eli in the teeth when he jerks his head back at the girl behind the desk. She looks up from the computer and offers March a warm smile. March finds herself staring as Isabella is drawn back in whatever April is doing on the computer. She shakes herself out of it when more people come into the office and Mason introduces them to March in between bemoaning the updated reading list his advisor has given him for his thesis.
Isabella starts the meeting when most horizontal surfaces have someone sitting on them by acknowledging the land they’re meeting on belongs to the Wampanoag people and thanking them and the Ones who came before them. Beyond that, March loses track of the meeting as they hash out housekeeping details for the upcoming fundraiser. Her eye gets caught on a poster with the same rainbow flag as the one on the wall at the top and a colourful assortment of other pride flags and their meaning underneath.
There’s apparently nothing else on the agenda other than the fundraising problem because as it gets solved, people start leaving. March stands when Mason and Eli stand, leaving with a fist bump and a salute, but April is still at the computer talking with someone so March continues to stare at the poster. She’s stuck trying to work out what aromantic means, when someone clears their throat. She jumps to see Isabella beside her.
“Oh sorry,” Isabella says, tucking a strand of hair behind her left ear from where it’s escaped her braid. “I just wanted to ask if you enjoyed the meeting.” Her smile is even better up close.
“I did, yeah,” March replies. She didn’t hear a word past the greeting, but she thinks she’s learned most of the identities that make up the LGBTQA+ acronym and their accompanying flags, plus some extras that she didn’t even know existed.
“Kinda overwhelming, isn’t it?” Isabella asks. She jerks her chin towards the poster, having seemingly followed where March’s gaze found the green-white-grey-black flag of aromanticism again.
“There’s so many labels,” March says.
Isabella laughs softly. “They’re are good for people who want them. Especially when you’re usually marginalized by the mainstream, it’s nice to have something to claim as yours, y'know?”
March nods absently, not sure she can really relate. Her experience isn’t much to write home about, but she does know that she likes doing things with men and women. No one has ever made her feel bad about either so she never really thought to give herself a label. Bisexual probably fits if she needs one but doesn’t know enough to decisively choose.
“What’s 'aromantic' mean?” March asks suddenly, stuck on the different ending.
“Do you understand what asexuality is?” Isabella asks. March hesitates before she nods, Félix was pretty vague on the details when he told her about himself, so Isabella explains anyways.
“So simply put, asexuality is the absence of sexual attraction right? Aro is basically the same except it’s the absence of romantic attraction.”
“Romantic attraction?” March hasn’t ever heard the two words put together like that.
“Uh, the part of you that wants to like um, date someone. Crushes and stuff.” Isabella gives March a moment to consider that before speaking again. “So you gonna come back to another meeting?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Isabella’s responding smile is dazzling.
After her second Pride meeting, March goes back to the apartment Isabella shares with two other poli-sci majors. They’re almost caught bare-assed on the couch but Isabella was smart enough to lock the deadbolt when they came in so March is able to grab their clothes and run as directed to the Isabella’s room (down the hall, second door on the right) while Isabella wraps herself in a throw blanket to let in her disgruntled roommate. The next time March goes to Isabella’s apartment, the same roommate, March now knows her name is Zoey, pointedly turns up her music when she sees March at the door. Isabella says she likes the feel of March’s blush under her tongue when they’re behind closed doors which only causes the blush to go further; a win for both of them really.
♠ ♠ ♠
April catches March on her way over Isabella’s after practice three months after March’s first Pride meeting.
“Off to Isabella’s?” April asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. The effect is ruined by the bruise she’s got across her cheekbone from a spike from the game before last. They won the set off the block so she wears the bruise proudly.
“Don’t wait up,” March replies, wrapping her wet hair into a bun so it’ll stay out of her face.
“Oh damn, it’s getting serious then?” April says.
“No?” March pauses in shrugging on her track jacket.
“Have you DTR?”
“What?”
“Defined the relationship.”
“Why?” March wrinkles her nose. She isn’t sure what to the make of the look April sends her.
“Aren’t you guys like, together?”
“We’re just friends,” March replies slowly, stupidly feeling like it’s the wrong answer even though she knows it isn’t. Her and Isabella aren’t so cliche that they don’t talk when they have sex, or before or after, but the topic of relationships or romance hasn’t ever come up since Isabell’s explanation of aromanticism.
“Oh.” April’s silence feels loaded, but March waits her out with furrowed brows. “You might want to make sure you’re on the same page,” April finally says. March’s frown deepens but she nods and slips her feet into her shoes and leaves the changeroom. She frowns for the entire walk to Isabella’s.
Zoey opens the door when March knocks.
“She’s in her room,” she sighs, rolling her eyes but stepping back to let March in. She goes back to the kitchen table and makes eye contact with March while she puts her headphones back. March can just barely hear a heavy bass coming from them that gets louder as March crosses the kitchen to the hall. She knocks softly on the doorframe, letting herself in when Isabella calls, “come in!”
Isabella, sitting on her bed and dressed only in a sports bra and pajama shorts, smiles when she sees March. “Hey babe, whatsup?”
The epithet makes March’s stomach clench unpleasantly even though Isabella’s called her that before. April also called her babe, but she calls everyone babe and now that March thinks about it, she’s never heard Isabella call anyone else babe.
“Can we talk?” March says instead of hello. She winces at the rudeness and quickly backtracks. “I mean, hey, I’m good. Can we talk?”
Isabella’s smile dims slightly and she stretches to grab the hoodie hangie beside her bed. “Sure.” She pulls it on and doesn’t make room on the bed for March to sit but that’s okay; she wouldn’t sit anyways.
March takes a deep breath. “Are we dating?”
Isabella’s smile is completely gone. “I’m gonna say no now, but know my answer’s changed in the last 2 minutes,” she says carefully.
“I’m aromantic.” March hasn’t said the words out loud before, but the more she thought about it after learning the word, the more the label settled in her bones. Saying it out loud lifts something from her shoulders and she can breathe deeper. March understood now what Isabella had originally meant by the labels being good for people; she just forgot that other people might find knowing your labels is helpful.
Isabella’s expression softens. “Oh.”
“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” March says. “I just uh, kinda thought it was the same for you?” Retrospectively she realizes how naive that is. She forces herself to look up from floor that she made the confession to and sees hurt flash across Isabella’s face. “It wasn’t just sex!” March blurts, stupidly realizing too late how that might’ve sounded. “I really do care about you. I just don’t have uh, feelings for you. And I don’t think I ever will.”
“I know what aromanticism is,” Isabella says softly. She’s looking down at the bed, idly picking at a loose thread.
“I’m sorry,” March says again.
“S’not your fault,” Isabella replies. “Not really.” She quiet for a beat. March watches her jaw work before she finds the words she needs. “I really care about you too. But... we can’t keep doing this.” She motions between them.
March nods. “I’m really sorry.” It comes out as a little more than a whisper. She meant what she said about really caring for Isabella and will really miss her as a friend.
She listened and laughed loudly at March’s jokes even when March laughed through the punchline. They had different enough movie tastes that netflixing and chilling sometimes turned out to just be netflixing and honestly, March will miss having someone to hang out with outside of her teammates.
Isabella must hear something in March’s voice because she gets up off the bed and pulls March down for a hug. “We’ll still be friends,” she says into March’s collarbone. “I just need some time to get over this.”
“‘Kay,” March says, mostly into Isabella’s bun. Isabella runs a hand up March’s spine once, twice, three times, before giving March a final squeeze and stepping back, well out of March’s space.
“I’ll see you around,” she says, smiling for the first time since it was wiped off.
“Not if I see you first.” It’s cheesy but it makes Isabella’s smile turn more sincere when March says it. She manages a real smile back too.
She leaves Isabella’s room, ignoring the questioning look from Zoey and letting herself out of the apartment. The walk back to her dorm is darker than normal, even though it’s not nearly as late it usually is when she makes the walk. She knows that she did the right thing but she’s still sad about having to do it.
If this what not getting crushes feels like, she can’t imagine actual romantic feelings being much fun.
♠ ♠ ♠
March meets Justin at a Student Athlete Leadership Seminar at the beginning of sophomore year. His name tag says Justin but he introduces himself as Ransom when they’re partnered together for the trust obstacle course. March eyes him skeptically at the discrepancy but he easily leads her around the course when it’s her turn to be blindfolded even after she accidentally makes him stub his toe. He’s really good at all of the other teamwork exercises disguised as games too. The woman running the morning session makes sure to compliment their teamwork, and March can admit the high five they exchange is pretty epic.
They sit together during lunch where March learns that “Ransom” is his hockey nickname because, “Bro, Ransom just rolls nicely off the tongue, y’know?” He spends the rest of the break trying to come up with a nickname for her and is weirdly frustrated when nothing sticks.
“What’s your last name?”
“Kobierzyńska.”
“Bless you.”
“That’s rude.”
“Right, sorry.” Justin sounds surprisingly sincere. “I can’t make a nickname outta something I can’t pronounce.” He taps at his bottom lip. “You’ll get one though, don’t worry,” he promises as they take their seats back in the auditorium for the lecture portion of the seminar.
“I’m really not that worried,” March tells him. The wounded noise he makes causes several people to whip around in their seats to shush him, causing March to stuff her fist in her mouth to stifle her laughter.
The lecture actually starts, and Justin is focused, though he mumbles to himself when the lecturer makes points he doesn’t agree with. March is inclined to second Justin's mumbles; the frat boy wannabe 40-year-old giving the lecture seems to have a lot of opinions about women’s sports in college for someone whose career never brought him close to actual women athletes.
“Well that was a waste of an afternoon,” Justin says when they’re allowed to leave.
“It was a full day thing,” March points out, squinting into the setting sun as they leave the building. They walk in the same direction without talking about it.
“Yeah, but the morning was okay. We kicked ass at the games!”
“They weren’t games. And it wasn’t a competition.”
Justin scoffs. “They were. Games rolled up as ‘trust exercises’-” he actually makes the quotation marks, two at the beginning with his left hand and two at the end with his right. “-are still games no matter how they’re packaged to make it seem like we were learning something.”
“Well I don’t know about you, but I learned a lot in the afternoon,” March sniffs, unable to keep a straight face for long.
“Fuck off.” Justin's grinning when he shoves March’s shoulder. She laughs brightly as she bounces off and then on the sidewalk.
They get dinner together at the dining hall, and Justin continues his pursuit of a nickname for March.
“Greater men than you have tried,” March tells him. “I’m unnicknameable.”
“Unnicknameable March?” Justin tries.
“‘S an oxymoron.”
“That’s what makes it funny.”
“No.”
When Justin has to run off to a late practice, he asks for her number just in case he thinks of anymore nicknames. March laughs at the excuse but happily gives him her number. Almost immediately Justin starts their message thread when he texts her about the unfairness of preseason practice with a captain who doesn’t believe in excuses. March has little sympathy for him, Becka has started the year with her sights set on a winning title and hasn't relented yet but comparing captain stories between sports is fun.
Volleyball season is in full swing so March doesn’t get to as many Pride meetings as she did last year. When she make it to events though, Isabella always has a smile for her, though it’s not quite the same smile as before. March will take it though; she missed her over the summer but understood there were boundaries she needed to respect.
April becomes the second person to know March that is aromantic during a tournament roadie and neither can sleep. March speaks into the darkness of their hotel room and April is quiet for so long that March starts to think their shared nervous silence hasn't actually been all that shared after all. April eventually replies and is exactly as supportive a best friend needs to be, though it takes a couple tries for her to completely understand the term.
“But you’ve had sex.”
“Yeah.”
“With Isabella.”
“Yeah. And other people.”
“And did you like her?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same thing.”
“...start from the beginning again.”
“Okay, like, I liked--like Isabella. I like talking with her, and watching movies with her, and kissing and having sex but none of the feelings I have for her are romantic.”
“But that’s what Kara and I do and we’re very romantic.”
“Yeah but none of that is exclusively romantic.”
“Ohhhhhhhh."
The win the tournament that weekend.
♠ ♠ ♠
Through their excessive texting and snapping once they find each other on all social medias, March and Justin discover that they’re taking the same anatomy class, though in different sections. Weekly study dates become a thing that turn into twice weekly and then three times weekly right before midterms. Midterms finish and November hits and the hockey season is in full swing, completely overlapping the volleyball season and there’s a weird week or so where Snapchat is the only way they see each. After they have a weekend long sleepover to catch up, it’s volleyball finals and Justin brings half the hockey team to cheer when Samwell ends the season in first place. Then it’s Christmas and the new semester and Justin and March sit next to each other in the second half of their anatomy class. Their matching notebooks were gag Christmas gifts from Holster that they unironically use with the fancy pens they gifted each other.
Anatomy gets cancelled in the first week of February and because of their other class workloads, March doesn’t see Justin in person for a couple days. April tells March that she’ll never miss Justin because when he’s not there, March doesn’t shut up about him.
“Sounds like someone’s got a crush,” Nora says from across the cool down circle as March is telling April and Becka about the plans she had with Justin, froyo, and a movie that night.
March frowns at the word crush, her stomach swooping down.
“Not everything has to be about romance,” April tells Nora.
“Thanks A,” March mumbles, wondering if she’s been wrong in assuming a crush had nothing to do with her and Justin’s relationship.
Justin is hands down one of her best friends. They’re in contact constantly and he’s one of the first people March wants to talk to when she gets any sort of news. He knows her order at Annie’s and Denny’s--and she makes a lot of substitutions to the grand slam breakfast. He comes to her dorm if they both need a break from their respective teammates, to watch episodes of How It’s Made with her. They alternate who gets to be the little spoon depending on who has more deadlines that week.
March values her friendships with Félix and Annie and April and most of the volleyball team but she’s pretty sure none of them get her on a level like Justin is able to- he picks around the sun chips when they share a bag of Munchies just because he knows those are her favourite, while simultaneously handing her the orange skittles because he hates them and she doesn’t. And March has met the guys on the hockey team and no offence but they either have no emotions or too many emotions. She thinks Justin finds some relief from both extremes when they hang out together, but now she's wondering if maybe there's been another reason they spend as much time as they can together.
“I gotta go,” March says, getting up out of the butterfly stretch she’d been thinking in. April has wide eyes and kicks at Becka when she tries to stop March.
In the change room, March barely stops to pull sweats over her spandex. She doesn’t zip up her jacket over her crewneck sweater until she’s hit by a blast of February wind and even then she tries to do it up while she walks but just ends up fighting with the zipper for the entire walk to the Haus. She knocks on the door as she’s opening in, waving to Bitty and Jack in the kitchen, saluting Holster and Shitty on the green couch before taking the stairs to the attic two at a time, almost 90% sure that’s where Justin will be based on her familiarity of his schedule. He jumps at his desk when she practically kicks open the door.
“Jesus H. Christ you scared me,” he says, leaning the chair back on two legs like he does when he's ready to take a break from his books but hasn't let himself yet. “I thought I was supposed to come to yours?” His smile is confused but he doesn't look made about the interruption.
March crosses the room and knocks the chair back to four legs with a foot on the rung before she speaks. “Are we dating?” she asks. A wave of deja vu hits her, but Justin’s cheeks colour differently than Isabella’s did.
“Uh, no.” Justin draws the last syllable out while looking guiltily over at the bunk beds him and Holster share.
All the muddled up feelings that powered March’s walk in the cold over disappear and she can breath again knowing that she hasn’t accidentally hurt a friendship by not having romantic feelings again. She’s left with such a sense of relief that it drains her and it’s suddenly an effort to stay standing so she sinks onto the floor.
“Oh thank god.” She leans her head back against the desk, ignoring how uncomfortably her pony tail pushes into her head. The chair scrapes back as Justin joins her on the floor, but he sits, facing March. He grabs March’s ankle and rubs his thumb along the skin between her sock and sweat cuff.
“Um?”
“I’m aromantic,” March says and oh, it rolls off the tongue nicely the third time around too. “It’s like asexual except I can be sexually attracted to someone but I don’t understand or have romantic attraction.”
“Okay?” Justin’s thumb stills for a beat before continuing.
“I was talking about our froyo date night at practice-”
“Because it’s awesome.”
“-and Nora said I had a crush on you. And I don’t.” March makes a face, kicking half-heartedly when Justin clutches his chest like she actually offended him. “I mean I would if I could probably. I just... don’t. I love you but I don’t want to date you.”
Justin’s quiet as he processes. His thumb starts up again. “Same. I mean, I love you too but I don’t want to date you either,” he finally says. He inhales. “I’m dating Holster.” Justin blows the breath out of his nose.
March blinks, “Oh, wow. Uh, congrats.” The news manages to be surprising and unsurprising at the same time. Holster and Justin work just as well together as Justin and March.
“Thanks,” Justin blushes. He has a really dopey smile on his face. “It’s like really new- I was gonna tell you tonight actually, but…" He shrugs, trailing off. "I’m really happy.” The admission comes with a small smile that makes March's heart happy.
“I’m glad.” March surges forward and wraps her arms around Justin’s neck. His hugs are probably her favourite bar-none. “Does that mean froyo date nights have to stop?” She’s only half joking.
“Oh no,” Justin is quick to reassure. March can feel him playing with her pony tail. “Holzy knows you’re my other best friend. He’ll just probably want to come cuddle more.”
“Only if I’m the middle spoon.”
Her pony tail tickles her neck when Justin sighs into it it. “Only every second cuddle sesh.” He squeezes her once more before pulling back. March grabs his face when he makes to get up off the floor though, keeping him in place.
“Thank you,” she says seriously.
“Welcome,” he replies. He kisses her forehead before getting up and that’s not something he’s ever done before, but neither of them have ever said "I love you" to the other either.
“Froyo?” Justin holds out a hand. March lets him pull her up and she zips up her jacket properly while he struggles into his. They race down the stairs, almost taking out Jack in the process. Justin shouts a sorry, bro-ing up what little Canadian accent he has from Toronto, and fist bumps Holster on his way out. Holster offers his fist to March too. She bumps, and even does the explosion that the end just to make Justin laugh. Holster insists they try a three way first bump so it’s another 10 minutes before March and Justin are out in the cold, on their way for froyo.
Crushes to March are an abstract concept, kinda like the concept of doing her dishes right after she dirties them. She doesn’t understand crushes or romantic feelings and it’s sitting across from Justin, who’s got a red ring around his mouth from trying to lick the bottom of his container but gamely offered March a bite of his pineapple froyo when he thought she’d like it, that she really feels okay with that.
She doesn’t need a romantic partner when she’s got the friends she does.
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