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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

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brown piano - yoongi

i’ve never written fic on this account before so bear with me, but here’s a little something about the only man i trust. and no i will not be capitalizing anything xx

summary: friends to lovers. yoongi and y/n have known each other casually for a couple years and never intended to take their friendship further than a few study groups together or the occasional dinner with friends. but being in the same applied piano class has brought them together, and their mutual love for epik high bonds them more than they’d like to admit.

warnings: language, probably. there’s a couple cliches in here too, i couldn’t help it. i probably only refer to yoongi as a honey dumpling twice

word count: 8.3k (its really just a long ass love letter to bv4/in the soop yoongi)

playlist: end of the world - epik high, gsoul / love song - epik high, park sung woong / go - epik high / can you hear my heart - epik high, lee hi / life is good - epik high, jay park

“fuck,” you whisper, nimble fingers slipping over the wrong keys once again. for a music composition major, you’re pretty lousy at practicing your instrument. mostly because you practice and mess up and get so frustrated that you stop for a minute to scroll through your phone and before you know it, your time in the practice room is over.

the time limit on your practice contributes to your stress, but the keyboard you keep tucked in the corner of your apartment just doesn’t do this song justice. a lot of the students in the school of music ignore this room, because the old brown spinet creaks too much for their “high class” performances, but you like it for its personality and the all-encompassing feeling it gives to your songs. when you play this piano, you can’t help but listen to its song. a keyboard or a grand can easily become background music to you, but this one is stubborn. it will not be ignored, so you come back to it when you need to fall in love with a song again.

the pinging of your phone pulls you out of your daydreams about the daunting black and white keys in front of you, and you check the time left on your reservation before opening your messages.

it’s a text from yoongi, who’s been talking to you more often lately. usually you just exchange pleasantries with each other when your big group of friends happens to get together, but you’re both in this applied piano class and it was nice to have a familiar face among the pretentious students you struggle to get through lectures with.

the quiet music technology major never caught your attention before this class, because he never had much to say when you were talking in passing. but this class has taken your friendship from nonexistent to yoongi texting you semi creepy photos of you through the practice room door with the text “your posture is shit, that’s probably why you keep messing up.” you swivel around on the bench to glance at the door and notice a mop of black hair in the distance. he must be finishing up a session in one of the studios because he’s usually your competition for this practice room. the piano reminds him of the one he played growing up, he says, so it’s the easiest for him to practice on. he’s more gifted than you are however, so he doesn’t need to practice for class as much as you do. hell, he could probably think of a song to play on the spot and still ace the performance midterm without another thought.

“where are you headed?” you text back, shuffling your sheet music together as neatly as possible before you start gathering the rest of your things. “i sounded so bad that you’re running away?”

“no,” he replies, and you can picture his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “need coffee.”

“omw,” you text quickly, going from tenderly placing things in your bag to slightly shoving them down enough to zip everything up securely. you gaze sadly at the piano before you leave. you really should try and practice some more, you have a few minutes left in the room, but you let out a sigh and head for the door instead. you need coffee and your dumpling shaped friend right now. hopefully the combination will help you get over some of your stress.

you find yoongi just outside, leaning up against a pillar of the building with his hands in his pockets and a bucket hat that he’s produced out of nowhere pulled over his head. he peeks up at you from under the brim when he hears the rickety doors clang shut, and he smiles slightly before pushing himself off the stone column.

“how’s the song coming?” he asks casually, leading the way to your mutual favorite coffeeshop like it’s second nature. which honestly, it’s getting to be like that. how did you go from barely knowing yoongi to spending almost every day with him?

“uh, my fingers don’t work anymore i think,” you explain. “i’ll get it though. i just need to practice more.”

“i could always help you,” he offers. you quirk an eyebrow at him and he continues. “like, i could listen and maybe watch the way you’re playing, and if there’s a spot you’re constantly messing up on i’ll just know to cough a lot during that part of your performance so the professor doesn’t hear it.”

“wow, who would’ve thought that min yoongi would be my knight in shining armor,” you joke. “what were you working on?”

“another song for my mixtape,” he tells you simply. “i want to sample an epik high song, but i can’t find one that fits the vibe yet.”

“hmm,” you think. “you’ll find one. or you can wait for their new album and use something off of that.”

“yeah, but i won’t have the same connection to those songs that i do with the old ones, you know?”

“then just go back to your favorites. have you tried doing something like lesson one?” you ask as you arrive at the coffeeshop. yoongi opens the door for you and ushers you inside, scooting you out of the way so someone zooming by on a bird scooter doesn’t accidentally clip your heel.

“when i first started working on this i tried doing my own version of it, but i don’t think anything i have to say would be better than tablo,” he explains.

“that’s not how you should be thinking when you’re making music,” you scold. “whatever you make will be worth listening to, and whatever you say in those songs will mean something. thinking like that will only limit what you make, min yoongi.”

he pauses and looks at you with an unreadable expression before he pulls his lips into a straight smile and nods.

“huh. you’re right, y/n,” he sighs.

“and for that little nugget of wisdom,” you say, “you owe me a coffee. toffee n-”

“toffee nut latte with no sugar, i remember,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls out his wallet. “what size?”

“considering i’m a little high strung from not nailing my song yet, probably a small,” you tell him. he nods and orders you a medium anyway and gets a muffin for you two to split. you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for your order, but yoongi breaks it after checking his phone.

“namjoon wants to know if you’re free this weekend,” he deadpans, making it sound like a statement when it’s meant to be a question.

“i don’t know, why?” you ask, pulling the warmed muffin closer to you. you start picking out one of the chocolate chips before you continue. “isn’t it fall break? i’ll probably stay here and practice. it’s too short of a break for me to go home.”

“apparently we’re all staying in a cabin or a box or something up in the mountains,” yoongi says. “it’s supposed to be a combined birthday trip for him and jungkook, i think it might just be the guys but he says you’re welcome to come with us. he says you look stressed.”

“why does he think i look stressed?!”

“because you do,” namjoon says, popping up beside you from one of the couches against the wall. he must have been buried in a book or his laptop, because neither of you noticed him when you first walked in. he gives you a casual side hug, tussling your hair and talking to yoongi above your head. “hey hyung.”

yoongi grunts a hello in response, and you share an eye roll with namjoon before he goes on about the whole mountain thing. he explains where it is, how long you’ll stay, and some of the other specifics that have already been arranged. it sounds nice, so maybe you should go.

“you should really come,” namjoon half pleads. “it’s kind of last minute, so not many of our friends can make it, but we need you to be the dj for the weekend. and i think you deserve a break.”

“you do,” yoongi chimes in, picking up your drinks and leading your small group to a table near the window. “it’ll help you come back to the song later without getting tired of it. you should never be frustrated when you’re playing.”

“i guess i’ll consider it,” you say. “you’re lucky i live too far away to go home for just a couple days, otherwise i would have to turn you down.”

“and i don’t need that kind of rejection on my birthday,” namjoon teases.

“your birthday was last month,” yoongi points out.

“but i’m celebrating it now, hyung. birthday rules still count for the celebration of said birthday.”

“yeah, but it’s not fair that you played the birthday card then and you’re doing it again now...”

sipping your latte, you laugh to yourself as yoongi and namjoon go on with their petty argument. you notice a fleck of chocolate on yoongi’s lip from the muffin, and you involuntarily lift your hand to wipe it off, but you stop yourself before it can be noticeable. you just let your hand fall to your coffee cup and take another sip of your drink, thinking about how many clean sweaters you have that you can wear this weekend.

you end up in the car with jin, hoseok and yoongi on the way to the cabin that they all rented. you’ve been roped into cooking duties for the weekend, and the four of you went grocery shopping before heading up to the mountains to meet everyone else. actually, you begged them to let you cook, bring booze, anything, since they didn’t let you chip in for the weekend at all in the first place.

“i’m not going to invite you last minute and then make you pay for anything,” yoongi told you clearly as you left the coffeeshop after talking to namjoon. “plus, jimin owes me at least $50 for ruining one of my mics, so i’ll just make him pay extra.”

like namjoon said, you are technically the dj for the weekend. you know the guys well enough to know what kind of music they want to listen to, so you crafted the perfect road trip playlist and shared it with hoseok, who’s in the front seat. he’s groaning and skipping each song he doesn’t like while jin calmly drives, complaining every now and then when hoseok skips a song jin knows all the words to.

and yoongi? well, he’s quietly scrolling through his phone beside you in the backseat. jin insisted on you sitting back there, claiming hoseok has some kind of carsickness that only appears when he sits in the back, so that meant you and yoongi were cramped in the tight space together. no biggie, but you keep bumping elbows with him, and you have to pee, and you didn’t sleep enough the night before so you’re already a little testy. you try to situate yourself so you hopefully forget about your need for a restroom and you bump into yoongi once again, and it sets you off. you don’t do anything aside from shoot him an angry glare before huffing a little bit and adjusting yourself so you’re fully looking out the window next to you. a few moments pass in silence save for the sound of go by epik high playing over the speakers.

you’re pulled from your mini rant session in your head to, oh my god, yoongi nudging your arm. you’re ready to give him a piece of your mind when you turn to lock eyes with him, but the delicately peeled tangerine that he’s offering you is so...confusing? and slightly endearing, so you abandon your plan to be mean to him and just graciously take the sweet fruit.

“where’d you get this?” you ask as you pull apart the half he handed to you.

“did he give you a tangerine?” hoseok asks with a smile, peeking at you both in the rearview mirror.

“yeah, like out of nowhere too.”

“if it’s oddly warm y/n, don’t be alarmed. he keeps them in his pockets for safekeeping,” jin explains.

“in your pocket?” you laugh, making yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “have you ever sat on one?”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles, bowing his head to focus on peeling off the stringy white skin left on his slices of citrus. the car falls into silence again and you notice everyone bobbing along to the epik high song still playing. you smile to yourself and finally pop a piece of the tangerine into your mouth.

it’s maybe the sweetest thing you’ve ever eaten, and you surprise yourself by thinking for a moment that its sweetness could be due to the fact that it came from yoongi.

“are you still working on your mixtape hyung?” hoseok questions, once again warmly breaking the quiet of the car.

“yeah, why?”

“have you tried doing something like this?” he asks, referring to the last few bars of go that play as jin turns down a road that must be just seconds away from the house, it looks exactly like the pictures the boys have shown you and you let out a sigh of relief at the thought of a bathroom and a bed.

“i have,” yoongi starts, peeking at you without turning his head. “y/n suggested it, actually. we talked about going back to this album for inspiration and it’s helped a lot.”

“it has?” you ask, beaming at the thought of bringing yoongi out of his funk with your mutual love of this group. yoongi simply shrugs and makes some non committal sound as the car comes to a stop.

“alright everybody, thank you for riding jin express. please don’t forget to rate and tip this ride in the app once you exit the vehicle,” jin jokes. everyone shuffles to get out of the car, and as hoseok pops the trunk you’re reminded that you really should start cooking right away. you politely ask hoseok to bring your bag in with his stuff, and he promises not to drop it before you grab some of the groceries and head for the kitchen.

once everything is taken care of and the cars are unloaded, you find yourself in the middle of a crowded kitchen full of ingredients and booze and boys. not a bad place to be.

hoseok did bring your bag in for you, you can see it laying by the couch a few steps away from the kitchen island. you’ll just have to hope there’s a room left for you at the end of the night, because your back won’t do well on a sofa.

“so what are we making, chef min?” you ask, washing your hands after playfully pushing jimin out of the way.

“carbonara,” he says simply. “namjoon’s request.”

“and did you get what i asked for hyung?” jungkook asks, several beer bottles distributed evenly between both his hands. as he waits for yoongi’s answer he passes the bottles around until everyone has a drink and he looks satisfied.

“yeah, we got the pizza stuff. we’ll make it tomorrow when we watch the movie.”

“what movie are we watching?” you’re curious, only because the last movie you watched with them was one you’ve all seen hundreds of times collectively so it was less watching and more reciting the movie line for line.

“that’s a secret,” jungkook says with a glint in his eyes. “my choice.”

“it’s gonna be some sappy love story, i’d bet ten bucks on it,” jin jokes.

“make it twenty and i’m in,” taehyung adds.

“oh you’re on.”

despite never cooking together before, you and yoongi are a well oiled machine. you receive some help from jin in the form of chopping or washing, but for the most part it’s you preparing everything, from the chicken to the sauce and handing it off to yoongi to be finished in the biggest pot of pasta you’ve ever seen. it smells amazing though, and you’ve attracted a park jimin who’s a few drinks ahead of the chefs and he has a mischievous idea in his head.

“so how long have you two known each other?” he starts out innocently, speaking more to you than to yoongi.

“uh, i guess i met yoongi at a party freshman year, when i met all of you. but he was arguing with someone, so i didn’t get to say much. just introduced myself and moved on,” you explain. “we haven’t really been friends, at least i would say, until we took this piano class together.”

“and how’s that going?”

“fine, considering he and i are the most competent out of all of them,” you state matter of factly, earning a chuckle from yoongi.

“most of the kids in there took this class thinking it’d be an easy elective grade.” yoongi adds, sliding beside you and reaching across to grab the colander you just used to drain some vegetables. as he retreats you catch a whiff of his cologne and a hint of tangerine. you smile to yourself and turn back to jimin.

“plus yoongi and i played the same song for our first assignment, so i had to confront him about that to establish dominance.”

jimin laughs maybe too much at this, and yoongi pipes in from the stove to quickly change the subject.

“y/n, i’m gonna need the cheese for the topping soon.”

“yes chef!”

dinner is ready soon after that. jimin had to be removed from the kitchen for tasting things that weren’t quite cooked yet, and jin took his place next to you. it seems that all of the boys are interested in learning more about the person that yoongi insisted on inviting this weekend, but you don’t know that. after a final taste test from the three of you and several approving nods, jin summons everyone from the rest of the house.

“it’s ready!!!” jin yells. it’s too loud for the situation but you’ll soon learn that these boys usually are. it gets their attention though, because one by one they file into the kitchen and grab plates and start serving themselves. you get your own plate and follow behind taehyung, who’s currently wearing a blanket cape. while you wait, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to find yoongi.

“y/n, i already made you a plate,” he tells you, holding up one of the two plates in his hands. “c’mon.”

“oh, thank you,” you reply, returning the plate in your hands and gratefully taking the one yoongi extends to you.

“did you hear that? he made y/n’s plate and not mine,” jungkook pouts.

“yeah, my feelings are hurt,” jimin whines.

“at least it’s not your birthday!”

“i wouldn’t have made you a plate no matter what, jimin,” yoongi defends himself. “but i wanted to be sure y/n sat next to me, i was at the food, i got a second plate. no biggie.”

“leave the man alone,” namjoon cuts in. “he’s being a good host to the outsider.”

“outsider?!” you ask incredulously. “i just made you dinner. be nice to me, birthday boy.”

“y/n, i looooooove you,” jungkook coos, plopping down at the table across from you and yoongi. “it looks delicious.”

“it really does,” namjoon agrees. “thanks for making it. especially you, y/n. you didn’t have to.”

“i don’t mind,” you shrug. “besides, i wasn’t sure how well any of you could cook and i didn’t want to eat shit for the weekend, so...”

your sly remark is met with a chorus of insulted voices, mostly from jin and yoongi, but jimin pipes in that he’s good at everything while namjoon and taehyung insist that they “try their best” in the kitchen, and jungkook just nods and says something about ramen for eight.

“yoongi’s quite the chef, actually,” jin says. “he can make almost anything.”

“that’s impressive,” you say with a nod, peeking at yoongi. his cheeks are turning pink ever so slightly.

“yeah, you should ask him to cook for you sometime,” jin continues. “maybe after one of your late nights in the music building.”

there are knowing glances exchanged all across the table, but you and yoongi are oblivious. he hasn’t looked up from his plate in a few minutes just to be safe, and you really have no clue, you think it’s some best friend inside joke. which it is, depending on how you read the situation. namjoon brings the attention back to what the plan is for tomorrow, and the little tension between you and yoongi dissolves without notice until it’s time for bed.

after dinner, everyone went their separate ways, jin and jungkook flocking to the game console in the living room with hoseok watching on, jimin and taehyung made a mess of the kitchen as they cleaned up after dinner, and you found yourself outside by the fire with namjoon while yoongi shuffled through the cars, mumbling about some bag of producing equipment he couldn’t seem to find. it was easy hanging out with them, which is saying something considering that these boys are basically family. but they’ve welcomed you with open arms, and it isn’t until you’re bundled up with a nice blanket and a crisp cider that you realize how much you needed a break like this.

your eyes start drooping as you stare into the fire, and namjoon seems to have the same idea as you because you both stretch at the same time and mumble something about going to sleep. he says he’ll handle the fire, and you take the blanket from his chair, along with yours, and trudge back into the living room.

“hey, where did you guys put my stuff?” you ask, looking behind the couch where you noticed your bags earlier. jimin and jungkook are the only ones left awake, and jimin glances at you quickly before replying.

“i think jin brought your things upstairs, y/n,” he explains. “first door on the left.”

“oh, thanks,” you reply, gently laying the blankets on the back of the couch before you head to the stairs. “night guys.”

“good niiight,” they both sing-song back, and you laugh as you shuffle up to your room.

the door is closed, so you reach out to open it with no hesitation, but when you see yoongi sprawled out on the bed, you jump a little.

“damn, y/n, you scared me,” he mutters, sitting up and dropping the notebook he had been scribbling in. “do you need something?”

“uh, no?” you reply, looking around. “i just, um, jimin said this was my room, so, i guess i opened the wrong door, is all.”

“wait, are those your bags? i thought they were namjoon’s,” yoongi says, pointing to, yep, your bags, laying at the foot of the bed.

“what?” namjoon asks, poking his head into the room. “i’m with jungkook.”

“are there any rooms left?” you ask, looking between them both. “i don’t want to intrude, so if i have to sleep on the couch-”

“what’s with all the chit chat?!” jin whisper yells, popping his head out of the room across the hall.

“y/n doesn’t have a room,” namjoon answers.

“no, y/n is sleeping with yoongi,” jin says, face twisting into a smile once he realizes his wording. “i mean, the two of you are sharing a room. you have the biggest bed, so i thought it would be more comfortable.”

“are you sure there isn’t another room one of us can sleep in?” yoongi asks with a certain emotion hidden in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“nope, y/n is your friend, so you’re stuck together,” jin says with finality. “now shut up, i already have to listen to hoseok snoring, i don’t want to hear any more bickering about beds.”

“hey, i don’t snore!” a voice, obviously hoseok, shouts from behind jin.

“good night!” jin laughs, shutting his door. namjoon chuckles as well, giving you and yoongi a sympathetic shrug before he heads to his own room. leaving you all alone with yoongi. you slowly turn back to him, quietly shutting the door behind you.

“i, uh-”

“sorry-”

“no, you go.”

“i was just gonna say i could sleep on the floor,” yoongi offers, but before he can even finish his sentence you’re shaking your head.

“no way,” you refuse. “it’ll be no biggie, right?”

“right,” he agrees.

“right,” you nod, convincing yourself that this isn’t as awkward as it seems. “i’m, uh, gonna go change in the bathroom though.”

“that would be smart.”

falling asleep in the same bed as yoongi was no big deal. really, what was the harm? it’s not like this trip has awakened feelings for him that you didn’t know you had...except it absolutely has. which is why you’re so freaked out in the morning when you wake up next to the man you just dreamt about cuddling all night.

wait.

your pillow wasn’t that warm when you went to sleep.

and you weren’t holding onto anything either.

cool, yeah, no big deal, definitely. you’re just latched onto yoongi’s arm while you drool on his shoulder. very attractive and not at all weird friend behavior. as you’re silently freaking out, eyes barely open, you register warm breath hitting the top of your head, and you look up to catch yoongi staring at you.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he stutters, pulling his arm from your grasp too soon. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t, like, i was trying to figure out if you were awake or not-”

“yoongi, it’s fine,” you laugh. “you staring at me is better than me turning you into my personal teddy bear. sorry about that.”

“you’re good,” he mumbles, sitting up. his hand rubs at the back of his neck, something you register as his go to nervous habit, as he keeps speaking. “it was nice actually. uh, because of the cold.”

“right,” you say, smiling to yourself. a layer of silence falls over you both as you lay there and yoongi fumbles for a minute on his phone. now you’re the one staring, looking up at yoongi’s delicate features like someone just took a blindfold off of you and you’re seeing the world in such a clear, sharp image. you’re noticing yoongi like you’ve never noticed him before.

to stop yourself from memorizing the outline of yoongi’s profile, you pull the covers off and get out of bed, groaning at the cold. you throw on an extra hoodie and some wool socks, noticing yoongi doing the same. once you’re both dressed, you’re staring at each other again, and the silence returns. it’s not awkward, just heavy, and you break it with a simple, “yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t tell the guys i drooled on you, please.”

“as long as you don’t tell them i was staring at you.”

the kitchen is buzzing more than you thought it’d be, cups of coffee already poured and the stove sizzling with eggs, sausage and some sad attempt at pancakes. last night when taehyung said he tries to cook, this must be what he meant, because the finished plate of “pancakes” looks like...a good try.

you beeline for the coffee, inhaling the comforting scent and enjoying the warmth it brings to your fingers. as you take your first sip you realize the boys have been quiet since you and yoongi ambled downstairs.

“so,” jungkook begins. “how’d you two sleep?”

“fine,” you both reply simultaneously, raising a few eyebrows from your audience. convincing.

“sorry,” you apologize. “not a morning person.”

“neither is yoongi,” namjoon notes.

“seems like it’s a good thing you’re sharing a room then,” jimin says over the rim of his coffee mug, smug smirk not as clearly hidden as he’d like it to be.

“hyung,” taehyung pouts from the stove. “can you help me with these?”

“i’m not good at flour-based things,” yoongi replies without a glance, deepening the pathetic pout on the chef’s face.

“i can help you, tae,” you offer, sliding past him and taking the spatula. he utters his gratefulness, going as far as kissing your hand, and yoongi finds his ears flaring red at the sight. chill out, he thinks to himself. tae’s just being tae.

but jin notices the change in yoongi’s demeanor after taehyung’s playfulness. it seems that when it comes to the two of you, one of the boys will always notice something before either of you do.

ok, so, something that wasn’t made totally clear to you is the fact that this is a ski trip, the main event of the weekend is skiing, and here you are with nothing thicker than a nice sweater to keep you warm. maybe it was mentioned in passing and you just didn’t pick up on it, but the conversation last night at dinner made you realize how under prepared you were.

that’s how you end up shuffling through the ski lodge down the street, laden in several borrowed layers. an extra pair of pants from jimin, a hoodie from jungkook and a jacket from hoseok. and yoongi’s gloves, which he insists he won’t need because he suddenly has to work on his mixtape before he loses his inspiration. you wonder if it’s the sight of the mountain covered in artificial snow that does it, because you’re even thinking about how you wish you could paint or draw so you can capture the true beauty of this place.

but yoongi knows the reason he has to write these lyrics down now is because of the lingering feeling of you holding onto his arm, head on his shoulder and delicate breaths brushing over his chest as you slept so peacefully. in all honesty, yes, he had been staring at you, for quite some time actually. and it was while he stared that he got the idea for this song.

so, yeah, he needs to write it down now, and he figures the best time to do it without prying eyes is while everyone is occupied with skiing. he hunkers down in the ski lodge, promising to watch everyone’s stuff as the rest of you layer up and carry the rented equipment outside to the slopes. you follow jimin and taehyung to the bunny slope while jin, namjoon and hoseok go toward the snowboard-only trails with jungkook deciding on the competition style ski slope. as you walk out, you look back at yoongi, admiring the concentrated look on his face as he passionately writes down whatever is on his mind, and for the briefest moment, you hope that he’s writing about you.

“i’m never going skiing again,” jimin declares, dropping all of his wet clothes in the living room of the rental as soon as he gets inside. “why did i fall down so much? how did i get so wet because of that?”

“well, jimin, snow is just frozen water, and water is wet, right?” namjoon teases. jimin’s response is to throw a soaking scarf at namjoon, gross ski slope water flinging everywhere in its wake.

“ew, jimin!” you yell, dodging the tail end of the scarf as it makes a terrible sound when it collides with namjoon’s chest.

“he deserved it.”

“yeah well now i’m covered in your gross sweat water too,” you whine. jimin acts like he’s going to throw something else wet and squishy your way, and you shriek before you dodge behind yoongi as protection.

“don’t get me involved in this,” he groans. you mumble an apology, secretly wiping some of the water off on his scarf.

“i’m gonna go change,” you tell him. “so knock before you come in.”

yoongi nods in response, heading toward the kitchen to get out the ingredients for dinner tonight. as per jungkook’s request, you’ll be assembling your own pizzas, which means you’re off the hook for cooking, at least. everything is premade, it just has to be warmed in the oven, and jin has already declared himself the pizza master, so you just get to enjoy.

“wait, y/n!” yoongi semi-shouts, stopping you on the first step of the staircase. “can you take this up with you? you can put it on top of my black bag.”

“which one, you have three,” you playfully dig, taking the bundle from his hands anyway. it’s his jacket from earlier wrapped around something, his journal maybe? and you tuck it under your arm as you continue upstairs.

you drop the bundle on top of yoongi’s things, knowing he’ll grumble about it messing up how neatly he arranged all of his bags and their contents. that’s why you find yourself peeking back at it after you’ve changed. plus the nagging feeling in your brain that maybe, just maybe, there’s something written about you in there has you tip-toeing to the corner of the room before you gingerly pick his jacket up, letting his notebook tumble out. you hold back, neatly folding the jacket and draping it over one bag before you lean down to grab the notebook, which happened to fall face down, pages open.

it’s not a crime that you glance at the words as you pick it up, and you’re reading the whole page before you can stop yourself. you’re about to start on the next group of words when you hear a knock at the door, and you drop the notebook, feeling caught. you scramble to put it neatly with his jacket, but the words inside are running through your head as you call out to yoongi that he can come in.

if he knows that you were snooping, he doesn’t show it. he simply thanks you for folding his things, and you nod at him quickly before you duck out of the room and go back to the kitchen, all the while thinking about the lyrics that made your stomach do backflips while at the same time making your heart feel totally content. what you read on that page was pure comfort embodied in a few words, and it came from the comfort yoongi feels when he’s around you. you recognize that feeling, those words resonating because that’s the same way you feel when you’re around him. you smile to yourself, thinking about how to confront yoongi about this.

except you can’t. because then he’ll know you were looking at his things, his innermost thoughts. you know how personal his lyrics are to him, and you know he’d be upset that you looked without his permission. so you resign yourself to making your sad little pizza, distracting your mind with cheese, cheese and more cheese. hoseok must notice the gloomy look on your face, because there’s suddenly a ball of sunshine at your side. he slides ingredients onto your pizza without you knowing, until you look down and see a smiley face staring back at you. you can’t help but laugh and lean into his warmth, giggling as he makes up some silly voice for the new pizza face he created.

yoongi enters the kitchen at that moment, seeing how you smile at hoseok like that, laughing so easily at his actions, and suddenly the song he was so eager to write, to compose, to pour his heart into, suddenly he wants to go upstairs and burn the pages. he won’t, because he knows he’s just being jealous, but he distances himself immediately, silently helping jin with slicing some fresh onion or prepping the oven for another pizza. yoongi was ready to show the song to you after dinner, but now...maybe he never will.

once you’ve all eaten an unhealthy amount of food, and consumed an impressive amount of alcohol (”we have to finish it before we leave!!” - jimin), you’re all gathered in the living room to watch a movie, another jungkook choice. it’s some sappy love story, and you find yourself looking over at yoongi each time something touching happens onscreen. jin notices as well, nudging yoongi the next time he sees your eyes drift in their direction. yoongi acknowledges jin, who directs yoongi’s attention to you, and when your eyes meet you can see something has changed. you turn away, looking back up at the tv and shivering despite the warm fire just a few feet away. taehyung, sitting next to you on the floor, offers you a corner of his blanket, and you take it, scooting closer to him as you try to focus on the terrible plot of this movie.

the boring movie, the warmth of tae along with the fire, and the two glasses of yoongi’s fancy whiskey you wanted to try now sitting in your stomach all lull you to sleep at some point. tae shuffling around next to you wakes you up, and in your stupor you look around and can’t find who you’re looking for.

“where’s yoongi?” you mumble with a yawn.

“already in bed,” taehyung explains. “he went up a little while ago.”

“hm, ok,” you half-whisper, voice barely returning after your quick nap. you stand up and stretch, alerting everyone to your movements because you’re right in front of the tv. jungkook whines, and you side step out of the way. “m’goin to sleep too.”

“alright,” taehyung says, pushing the blanket out of your way so you don’t trip. “sleep tight!”

“don’t let the lovebugs bite!” jimin chirps out, making some of the boys giggle. you don’t register it as you walk to your room, just barely awake.

for the second night in a row you’re surprised to see yoongi on the bed, still awake, but tonight he’s got his laptop and all of his producing equipment is laid out around him. he doesn’t acknowledge you entering the room and you don’t pay him any mind either, kneeling down to rifle through your bags at the foot of the bed. once you find what you’re looking for, you can’t decide if it’s the sleep or the whiskey, but you unabashedly take your sweater off right in front of yoongi. suddenly he’s jumping out of bed, equipment scattering.

“uh, what- why, what, what are you doing?!” he asks, voice an octave higher than usual as he looks anywhere but down at you. you laugh at how jumpy he is, and quietly apologize.

“sorry, i should’ve warned you,” you explain. “too tired to go to the bathroom.”

“tha-that’s fine,” he replies, still not looking at you. “tell me when you’re ready.”

“good,” you say once you’ve pulled on the shirt you slept in last night. “why’d you come up here so early?”

yoongi risks a glance at you, color coming back to his cheeks once he sees that you’re clothed again. he starts meticulously packing up the tech covering the bed, leaning over his laptop and furiously saving what he was working on before he closes it.

“uh, i just didn’t like that movie,” he lies, not wanting to mention how jealous he was seeing you laughing with hoseok and then sharing a blanket with taehyung. he doesn’t have a right to be jealous, but he is. he wants to tell you how that made him feel, but he doesn’t.

“ugh, me either,” you groan, rolling up one of the stray wires on the bed before passing it to yoongi. “not my favorite genre.”

yoongi notices that you’ve folded the wire the way he likes, without harming it too much and with the ends tucked in just so. the fact that you remember such a small detail has his heart warming again, and suddenly the gloomy thoughts he had about tonight have washed away. he all but forgets why he was in a bad mood in the first place as he looks at you, crawling under the blankets and he has the urge to stop you, to wake you up again so that he can play you what he was working on. but he can do that later, he will. he sees you glance up at him, patting the bed next to you.

“c’mon, i promise i won’t drool on you tonight,” you assure him, and he laughs before pulling the covers back on his side so he can lay down. he turns the lamp off on his bedside table and then settles in, suddenly missing the warmth of you from last night.

“good night,” he mumbles, looking over at you on your phone, setting an alarm for tomorrow. the rental ends in the early afternoon, so there can be no sleeping in.

“night yoongi,” you reply, locking your phone. you keep it on your chest for a moment, contemplating how tired you actually are. before you came in, you could’ve fallen asleep on the floor, but now, laying next to yoongi, you’re reminded of those lyrics and you don’t think your mind can turn off. after a few minutes of silence, you decide it’s probably best to just try to sleep, having your phone on might bother yoongi. you need to charge it anyway, but you groan as you remember you never packed your charger.

“hm?” yoongi hums at your sound of frustration.

“do you have a phone charger plugged in over there?” you ask quietly.

“mhm.”

“can i use it?”

“yep.”

“are you almost asleep?” you ask, even quieter now, moving over so you’re a little closer to him than before.

“trying to be.”

“i’ll plug it in then,” you say, carefully reaching over him to grasp blindly until your fingers reach the cord. you fumble with it for a moment, successfully plugging your phone in eventually, and you start to retreat to your side of the bed. as you pass back over yoongi, you place a quick kiss on his cheek and mumble another good night, not even realizing what you’ve just done.

there’s no way you can fall asleep now, and neither can he. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks up.

“y/n.”

“what.”

“look at me.”

slowly, you turn your head back to him, and his intense gaze has you blushing before he even says anything.

“sorry.”

“don’t apologize.”

“ok. right. sorry,” you quickly reply, voice still barely audible, but with the lack of space between you two it’s not hard for yoongi to hear.

“y/n,” he says again, this time grabbing your hand beneath the blankets.

“yeah?”

“i think i might be in love with you.”

“that’s....nice,” you squeak back, and yoongi lets out a loud laugh. your blush deepens at the sound.

“that’s nice?” he laughs. “that’s all you have to say?”

“yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?” you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow. it’s dark in the room, but you clearly see him nod, and you don’t even remember moving to connect your lips to his. the moment you do, there’s a spark of electricity flowing through you. it’s a simple kiss, lips moving in sync with each other, both knowing what move the other is going to make before you even make it. yoongi pulls himself up so he can cage you underneath his arms, long fingers brushing your cheek and sending more sparks down your spine. he cups your face as he delicately tries deepening the kiss, your lips opening just slightly to let him in. he tastes like mint, and something else, something....citrus-y. even though you don’t want to, you pull away from his lips, his pout chasing you as you rest your head back on your pillows.

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, fear slowly creeping in.

“when did you have time to eat a tangerine?”

“seriously? that’s the question you have for me right now?” he asks, laughing again but quieter this time. it still makes you smile at the sound.

“hm, i do have one question,” you say. it’s dark in the room but you can see yoongi encouraging you to go on with a lift of his eyebrow. your smile deepens as you speak. “how long have you been in love with me?”

“okay, good night,” he grumbles, turning over. you let out a sound of frustration and prop yourself up on an elbow, holding onto his shoulder with your other hand.

“this ok?” you ask quietly, slowly melting into his side. he makes a sound of confirmation, and you pull him back towards you slightly. “i still don’t have an answer to my question.”

“when did i fall in love with you?” he asks for confirmation.

“ooh, you fell in love with me, how romantic,” you tease. “i asked how long it’s been, but i’d take either answer.”

“ok, yes, i did fall in love with you,” he begins. “you’re annoying so it took some time.”

“hey.”

“not done.”

“sorry.”

“and how long?” he continues. “mm, when i saw your name on the sign up sheet for the room with the brown piano, that’s when i knew for sure. so i guess a couple months.”

“hm. alright,” you respond, butterflies suddenly in your stomach and fluttering up to your throat. “that’s.....nice.”

that sends you both into a fit of giggles right as jimin and taehyung are passing outside your door, and jimin pulls him toward the sound. but taehyung accidentally bumps his knee on the door, alerting you and yoongi to their unwanted presence.

“go to bed!” yoongi shouts, making you jump while scaring the now snickering boys outside your door. yoongi lays an arm over your waist seeing you jerk at the sudden noise, and you feel a little bit of that comfort that he so perfectly put into words with his lyrics.

“you too!” jimin shouts back, laughing all the way to his room.

“and you called me annoying,” you whisper to yoongi.

“you know they put you in here on purpose,” he tells you.

“huh?”

“they knew i was into you, so they made sure we were sharing a room,” he explains.

“so you knew about it too?”

“i-i knew we might share a room, i didn’t know we’d be sharing a bed,” he stumbles out. “once i saw there was one bed i assumed they gave you your own room. i’m...i’m glad i was wrong.”

“well min yoongi, i never expected this,” you tell him.

“pff, seriously?”

“seriously,” you confirm. “guess i was too busy with my own feelings for you to notice that you were into me.”

“really?” he asks with a smile. you nod, but realize he may not see it in the dark.

“yeah,” you whisper.

“how long?” he whispers back.

“honestly? probably longer than i’d like to admit. you’re really cute, you know.”

“back at ya.”

“not done,” you scold.

“sorry.”

“but i finally accepted it when i...” you trail off, and then you decide it’s best to just tell him. “when i read the lyrics in your journal.”

you can feel him stiffen at your words, but he doesn’t move his arm from its place on your waist.

“which song?”

“the one from today,” you reply. “wait, which song? there’s more than one?!”

“uh, good night!” he exclaims, trying to turn away again. you grab his arm and stop him though, placing your hand over his.

“min yoongi!”

“hey,” he mumbles.

“i hope i get to read the other ones at some point.”

“you will,” he assures you. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “uh, so, you still haven’t used the l word, and that’s totally fine, i swear, but, did i cross a line? by using it already?”

“nah,” you shrug. “i’m just not good at this, so you’ll have to give me a little time. i’ll say it when i’m sure.”

“alright. take your time,” he says with a nod. it’s quiet again, and you think you’re both finally going to fall asleep when you feel yoongi’s lips on your cheek. “good night, for real. feel free to use me as your teddy bear again.”

“you sure?” you ask with a smile.

“i insist.”

the next morning, you keep it chill, trying not to tip off the guys and let them know their little plan worked. but damn, how sneaky of them! you’ll have to thank them later though. for now, you’re helping them clean the house so you don’t get charged for leaving the rental a total mess. yoongi is in the living room clearing bottles from last night and you’re washing dishes with hoseok. yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, and you stick your tongue out at him whenever he catches your eye. once everything is clean, and the bags are in the car, you’re ready to head back to the city to enjoy the last bit of break.

you’re the car dj again, next to yoongi in the backseat again, but this time you have a new playlist. epik high’s new album came out this morning, so you queue that up for your intimate little listening party in the car. everyone is in a good mood from the trip, so you’re talking over most of the songs in the beginning, just noting quickly when you like a lyric or a beat. yoongi scribbles things down when the inspiration strikes him, and your mind starts drifting back to your performance midterm. you’re starting to think you may be playing the wrong song, but the question is, what song will you play instead?

as you get to the end of the album, and the end of your weekend, one song catches your attention. you check your phone, noting the title as you turn the volume up slightly. you listen extra hard to this song, trying to memorize the chord progressions as they come. you start composing the song in your mind, tapping out the melody on your lap as you decide: end of the world will be your performance song. you glance over at yoongi, still focused on his notebook, and you reach out to lightly tap his hand. he looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, dewy cheeks shining and mouth slightly open, questioning your actions with a quiet “hm?”

“i’m sure now.”

#min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi one shot #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi blurb #min yoongi headcannon #bts fic #min yoong fluff #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts one shot #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

TFComics Rewrite

I am currently plotting an outline for a TFComics, and I want to get my thoughts about fixes to canon and possibly get feedback. Since this is a rewrite there’s really no *spoilers* or anything, so I’m willing to answer all questions about what I plan to do. Also some characters I’m not so sure about how I want to retool them, so if your have ideas for your fav let me know!

Disclaimer:

This rewrite is intended to critique the content/choices made in the construction and telling of the Team Fortress 2 comic series. It is not a personal attack on the artists/writers/directors or any of the creatives that made contributions to this series, nor is it meant to substitute or replace the official release. This work is transformative in nature, and relies on an understanding of the source material to be understood. TF2 and its characters belong to Valve.

TFCR is working on the assumption that the audience has read the original comic, and as such will skip over scenes and plot points that are unchanged from the original. I don’t think it needs to be said, but this fanfiction will not make sense if you are not familiar with the source.

I also recognize that there are strengths within the comic’s writing and weaknesses within my own. Namely, that Valve writers are gods in the realm of comedy, and I’d rather not try to match them in the regard. As such, I will state up front that these will not be as funny as the TFComics. That is not to say there won’t be jokes (either ones transplanted from the source or some of my own) or that the tone of this will be terribly grimdark, only that my focus will be on improving story structure and character development as those are what appeal to me.

The Broad Strokes

The goal of TFCR is to give a more engaging story for all the mercenaries we know and love, as--let’s face it--the TF2 mercs are side characters in their own damn story. These are some of the planned improvements.

There will be reason for each of the mercs to actually be there. As it stands, the motivations for almost every character besides Pauling and Saxton Hale are vague and unsatisfying. We’d usually say something along the lines of “money” for hired killers, but clearly Scout doesn’t even know if they’re getting paid, and some of the other characters are even worse. The hunt for the Australium is, therefore, boring. MacGuffins usually are, but at the very least the characters should care about the item even if the audience doesn’t. This work aims to give each of the nine mercs a motive and a reason to be in the story instead of just replaceable joke dispensers.

Explain what “Team Fortress” means, and how it relates to RED and BLU. Long and short: the nine mercenaries we see on the team are not from either RED or BLU but rotate between the two, and were the individuals selected to fight the robots. That means all things do happen to all characters. As Valve pretty much goes with “whatever is funniest at the time”, it’s very hard to make a cohesive theory about “where the hell is BLU team?”, but I’ll do my damndest. We’ll also examine Team Fortress’s relationship with the other capital T Teams, and why they’re considered the “rejects” of the bunch.

Comics 1 & 2 will be removed from the timeline as they serve no purpose, only taking what needs to be known about the plot’s setup and jumping straight to A Cold Day in Hell.

We will introduce the Classic Mercs right away so they can generate threat and play against the TF mercs when they do actually meet head to head.

We will not be killing off Gray Mann. (Not preemptively anyway.) In fact, there will be more focus on him and Olivia as villains facing off against the Admin, providing her foil as the TF2 and TFC mercs provide foils for each other.

I considered waiting until the final comic was out to begin working on this, but that may never happen. Jay Pinkerton said he may reveal what plot they had in store eventually, but considering it took Half Life over a decade to get the “I was once a Valve writer but my NDA has expired and now I can go buck wild” treatment, I’m not holding my breath. The main reason I wanted to do this is that the Administrator’s motivations are not interestingly foreshadowed, to the point where there aren’t even any good fan theories out there. That said, WritingDispenser and Riddle of the Sphinx helped come up with a pretty fun one, which was actually the inspiration for me to get off my butt and start plotting this.

There will be no queerbaiting. This refers both to HeavyMedic (which has been simultaneously used as wink wink nudge nudge joke many times and as encouragement for fans to play their stupid hat game) as well as lesbian Pauling (since femme lesbians are the preferred method for front facing LGBT representation across almost all media, but video games especially). If you need to understand why lesbian Pauling is an issue, Sarah Z coined the term “queercatching” in order to describe word of god confirmations on characters sexualities that are not followed up on in the text. I recommend the full video on it.

Due to the importance of immortality in the theming of the comics, respawn will not be a thing. Deaths we think should have happened previously will be explained as close calls, or that Medic can heal a short time after death. Medic and Scout’s deaths will be cut in the story itself, as after Sniper died and came back, them doing the same thing kinda lost their punch.

Scout

There will be no ScoutPauling hints. It doesn’t make sense to give screentime to this relationship because Valve obviously doesn’t think it’s going to go anywhere so why make Scout turn down advances from other hot women? I mean I get Expiration Date was a Thing but it feels like Scout’s whole motivation shouldn’t be reduced down to chasing a girl who doesn’t like him back.

He’s here because he lost his life’s savings in bad investments and needs the money. That’s it. Which is still somehow more than his canon motive which is question mark question mark question mark

He, Soldier, Spy, Demo, and Pyro all start the adventure with Miss Pauling.

Engages with Heavy on a genuine level when they go to collect him, Heavy doesn’t blow him off when he tries to level about dead dads.

There will be no DadSpy reveal. The way Spy treats Scout has never been “deadbeat dad feels bad about abandoning his kid” but more “this is someone I would kill without a second thought if I felt like it” which makes his reveal in comic 5 feel very disingenuous. I don’t think Valve even had this plotline in mind until comic 3, as #2 still has Spy seeming only to care about Scout’s Ma and not Scout himself. It also makes “seduce me!” retroactively weird.

Uhhh hooks up with Zhanna. This one isn’t critical I just think it’s funny.

Soldier

Soldier is going to be the Ur example of the Admin not treating her people well, as we’re going to lean into the whole “Soldier was only mildly messed up until the whole lead poisoning” thing.

He’s here because he’s blindingly loyal to the cause. He’s actually going to very little from canon because of this actually.

Might be the reason Team Fortress has a reputation of being the lower tiers of the Teams, but that doesn’t mean he’s damn good at his job. Fatal flaw is that he’s unstable, and even though the courthouse plotline won’t be in this fic, it should be noted that he actually does cause problems for the other protagonists due to his short temper. He’s a risky asset, but still essential.

There will be a minor explanation for the WAR! Comic, but I think that’s better saved for Demo’s analysis.

Pyro

Pyro is the character you could cut entirely from the comics and have the least change. Now, they’re going to be Pauling’s right hand. Let me explain.

Engineer and Pyro are implied to live together, and Pyro doesn’t have anything better to do than go with Engie after Team Fortress is disbanded. Rather than having a reveal, we will see some of what is going on with the Admin and friends early on, and see what leads up to her sending Miss P the note that kicks off the whole plot. However, while Engie needs to stay and look after her, Pyro’s skills aren’t useful here, and they are sent as a direct messenger to help Pauling.

They’re loyal, and unlike Soldier rarely mess up orders. They’re also partially mute, making them ideal for handling sensitive info. Pauling trusts them to handle the burning of “Elizabeth’s” paper trail.

Will be using they/them in the narrative voice, but other characters will refer to them as he/him. I considered going with it/its because that’s bubbled up in popularity again, but ultimately I decided against it.

We’ll get glimpses to their train of thought, but like the comics they will remain virtually silent.

Demo

Demo’s role in the cast is going to be very similar to Spy’s. The events of WAR! involved him nearly dying and Soldier taking the win, and he’s very bitter that after all those events *apparently* mercs can just be switched around teams willy nilly and don’t have to kill each other anymore. (As the audience, we know this is because the Admin found out the “make them so angry they won’t ask questions” wasn’t a long-term viable solution, and instead brought TFI forward as a neutral third party that was pretending to mediate the gravel wars.) But Demo’s suspicious, and is only along because he really has been miserable since he lost his job.

This conflict will eventually come to a head, more on that in the Sniper section.

Is fairly forgiving with his teammates. Doesn’t like Sniper but I’m willing to drop a little angst during that submarine scene. Is glad to see Medic actually. Here to be some glue to hold this merry band together.

The Eyelander will not be forgotten after 2 comics because I love this character concept and I think it was underutilized.

Drunk jokes will be kept to a minimum. What I liked about WAR! and Bombinomicon was that it took Demo and showed that they knew how to make him funny without making him one note, which they sort of did in the early TFComics but stopped in the later ones in favor of him….being asleep for the whole plot. I promise 100% awake Demo in my rewrite.

Demo likes Pauling on a personal level, but has trouble reconciling her with his feelings on TFI.

Doesn’t get knocked out by moonshine because. Seriously? Poisoning the Demoman with alcohol? In what world does that work.

Heavy

Not too much to change. Scout doesn’t accompany him when he goes to look for the secret Australium cache, and he engages with Mags and Saxton (which will be when the audience finds out what they’ve been up to) and actually cares about what’s going on with them. He thinks Darling is up to something. Which he is, he’s attempting to unseat both Gray and Helen due to long family history.

Will at least mention Medic. Their reunion falls a little flat since it mostly relies on Meet the Medic for context, as they don’t really interact in the comic. There can be a bit of a flashback to what it was like as all these mercs broke up.

I know uhhh Valve seems to think found family is really dumb, and that these murderers could ever like each other is silly or something, but the mercs do? Like each other? For the most part anyways.

Bronislava and Yana come alone for adventures, not just Zhanna. Again, no real reason, but sometimes I get to have tacky fanfic stuff in my own fanfic because I Wanna.

Engineer

Engie ruminates on his family history of allowing all this bullshit to happen and just kind of shrugging. Basically Moss’s analysis of the Conagher themes.

Has put a lot of time, sweat, and tears into BLU and now TFI, isn’t willing to let it fall now, even if Admin is basically living on borrowed time. He’s doing this because of the ‘ole sunk cost fallacy.

Also we get to see more of Pauling and Admin’s relationship through his eyes.

Medic

Congrats on being the one merc with an actual arc, Medic! As a reward, you will not be changed much.

I’m actually going to use Medic’s section to say that the Classic mercs will be referred to by their first names in order to differentiate them, and we’ll get little previews of what they’re like from Medic’s perspective before we actually see them fight Team fortress. The battle at the submarine will be more of a fight in this sense, working it out so it seems like surrender is the only option after Sniper is killed.

Final fight with Cheavy will be...not blocked so awkwardly. I mean this is now a textual medium so my work is already halfway done, but still the pacing is so weird. Shudder.

Sniper

These are the big guns. Most changes, even more than Demo. He’s been actually hunting for New Zealand/the Australium cache on his own, and doesn’t want Pauling interfering, saying for a he knows she could have been the ones to kill his adoptive parents.

(She hasn’t, but the Admin did actually order them killed in an attempt to stop Sniper because she thought she could prevent the exact thing that is going on right now which is that Sniper is considering trying to get at it.)

Sniper doesn’t know this, but Pauling, Demo, and Spy eventually convince him to share his findings and help them get to New Zealand.

Spy

Similar to Demo but is less conflicted about it. He knows just because he likes someone doesn’t mean he won’t have to kill them later.

Spy knows about who killed Sniper’s parents, and tells Demo, sort of as a test to see where his loyalties lie. He also knows that Pyro is Pauling’s confidant for certain things.

Demo questions him about what he’s doing here, whose side he’s really on. But you know. Spy is Spy and he was never really on anyone’s side but his own. When it comes down to it, it might be exactly as Scout thinks: that he’s ditched them all and run off when he had the opportunity. But, big damn hero, comes back in the end.

He’s here mainly to “keep an eye on things.” Also maybe because his gf asked him to keep an eye on her son :)

#tf comics rewrite #tf2 meta

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bamby0304 · 3 years

Text

The Hart III: Secrets

Chapter 19: Smoke and Mirrors

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warning: Angst. Magic.

A/N: I won’t be doing taglists anymore, so if you want to know when I post stories follow @bambys-library :)

Bamby

EPOV

Hands shoved into the pockets of my 'FBI' coat, I followed a step behind Sam and Dean as we walked down a street in Las Vegas. But we weren't here for fun. No gambling for us, unfortunately. No. This was all about a job.

As we crossed the street, we neared a gathering people standing around a man dressed in black leather, and ripped jeans, with dark hair and eyeliner.

"This, this isn't a trick, okay?" the man told the audience as he shuffled some cards. "I- I- I don't do tricks. This is a demonstration. About demons and angels. Love and lust. All that stuff mixed up in my head."

"What a douchebag," Dean mumbled as we came to stand with the crowd.

I looked to the side, glancing at the camera person and microphone person as they focused on the man.

"That's Jeb Dexter," Sam noted.

Dean looked up at him, confused. "I don't even want to know how you know that."

Sam just shrugged. "He's famous, kind of."

"For what? Douchebaggery?"

I held back a laugh at Dean's disapproving attitude. "It's entertainment, Winchester." I smirked, looking up at the older brother.

He looked down at me, surprised for a moment before he returned my grin with a smirk of his own.

Jeb's voice pulled our attention back to him as he kept talking to the crowd. "But whatever happens, no matter how messed up it gets, don't touch me, okay? For your own safety, " he warned before inhaling deeply.

After a moment, he closed his eyes and exhaled, focusing as he shifted on the spot. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, letting the air out again.

Suddenly he gasped as he began to shake as if having a seizure. With one hand, he grabbed the deck of cards that sat in the other hand as he opened his eyes enough so we could only see the whites.

"Go back to hell, demon!" Flinging the cards at the window behind him, we all watched as one of the cards stuck to the glass. The ace of diamonds. Reaching forward, Jeb ran his hand over the card, only to reveal that it was on the other side of the glass now. "Is this your card?" he asked a woman in the audience.

Applause broke out in the crowd.

"You've got to be kidding me. A fake demon possession?" Dean shook his head as he turned to walk away. "I can't believe people actually fall for that crap."

"It's not all crap," Sam argued as the two of us followed Dean.

"What part of that was not a steaming pile of BS?" Dean asked, gesturing back to Jeb and the people surrounding him.

Sam gave a short nod, agreeing with Dean there. "Okay, that was crap, but that's not all magicians. It takes skill."

Stopping in his tracks, Dean turned to his brother, grinning. "Oh, right, right, I forgot. You were actually into this stuff, weren't you?"

A smile spread across my lips. "Really?"

Turning to me, Dean was clearly enjoying the fact he was embarrassing his brother. "I mean, he had like a deck of cards, a wand and everything," he told me.

I had to fight back the laugh bubbling in my chest. Sam Winchester, an aspiring magician. Now that's something I would have wanted to see.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, I was thirteen. It was a phase."

Shaking his head, Dean shrugged. "Just... it bugs me. You know, playing at demons and, and magic, when the real thing will kill you bloody."

"Like a guy who drops dead of ten stab wounds without a single tear in his shirt?" Sam noted, talking about the case.

Dean gave a sharp nod as he started to walk again. "That's what I'm talking about."

DPOV

In the victim's hotel room, Liz, Sam and I were in the process of asking his assistant some questions while she packed up all of Vance's- the victim's- things.

"So, did your boss have any enemies that you know of?" I asked.

The assistant nodded. "Vance had plenty of enemies." Leaning down, she grabbed the end of a series of tied-together handkerchiefs and began to pull them out of a bag to wrap them up.

"How so?" Sam questioned.

The assistant shrugged. "He would steal from other magicians. All the time."

"What would he steal?" Liz asked while I frowned at the handkerchief rope that just kept coming out of the bag as if it would never end.

See, this is one of the reasons why I didn't like this kind of magic. I just didn't understand why it was so interesting. A never-ending rope of handkerchiefs? Where's the magic in that? How is it supposed to be entertaining?

That's another thing. Magic is not supposed to be entertaining. It's dangerous. Deadly. Real magic? It ends in death, and torture and mayhem. Real magic? It's messy and gross and bloody.

"Stage effects, closeup techniques," the assistant answered, the rope finally coming to an end. "Anything he could get his hands on."

Pulling my attention back to the assistant, I asked the next question. "Is that enough to get him killed?"

"These guys take this stuff pretty seriously," she noted as she reached over to remove a cloth from a table, revealing a white rabbit. "There you are." Bending down, she picked the rabbit up as I spoke again.

"Did you find anything weird in Vance's stuff? Well, weirder?"

"Matter of fact, I did." Putting the rabbit in a bag, she then pulled something out of a pocket of a cape before showing us the object.

It was a tarot card, the Ten of Swords. The picture on the card was of a man lying on the ground with ten swords sticking into his back.

"I'm guessing this didn't belong to Vance," Sam noted as he reached forward to take the car.

The assistant shook her head. "He hated card tricks. Never wanted them around. Let alone in his precious cape."

EPOV

While Sam was off doing some research, Dean and I walked into a theatre to find a possible lead. Up the front, on top of the stage, hung a sign. The Incredible Jay over the Table of Death. Under that sign of Jeb, on the phone, clearly annoyed and pissed.

"It's a lame gig. I'm in a fleabag hotel doing this man-of-the-people crap, and freaking Angel's in Vegas doing Cirque du Soleil! That should have been mine." He shook his head, even though the person on the other end of the phone couldn't see him. Hanging up, he sat down at a table, across from an older man while the camera crew hovered. "All right, boys, get it in gear, I don't got all day."

Dean and I moved to a table near Jeb's where two older men sat, watching the interview between Jeb and the other older man.

"You Vernon Haskell?" Dean asked as he sat behind the man he was addressing.

"Who's asking?"

"Federal agent, Ulrich. This is my partner, Agent Hetfield," Dean introduced as the two of us pulled out our FBI IDs. "We're looking into the death of Patrick Vance."

Our attention was pulled back to Jeb as he started the interview. "I'm Jeb Dexter. This is Devil Twist. We're chilling at the International Magicians' Convention, which is a dope chance to tip my hat to the wicked cats who came before me. Smoking hot effect last night, Jim."

"Jay," the older man corrected.

Jeb frowned at him, clearly confused. "Huh?"

"My name is Jay."

"Yeah, whatever." Jeb waved Jay off. "We can loop it later."

Vernon shook his head at the younger magician. "What a douchebag."

"Couldn't agree more." Dean grinned as I held back a chuckle. "Is, uh," he pulled the Ten of Swords card out from his pocket, "this familiar to you?"

Turning to give the card a glance, Vernon shrugged as he focused on Jeb and Jay again. "Should it be?"

"Well, we heard that you used tarot cards in your act," Dean noted.

"My act?" Vernon let out a humous laugh. "That was a long time ago. I haven't touched a deck in years, you know..." He held up his hand, showing us how shaky it was.

"Well, do you know anyone who might use them now?" I asked.

Vernon thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Well, there was a guy down on Bleeker Street."

"Oh, yeah. He, he peddles that kind of specialty stuff," the man with Vernon added.

Dean looked to the two men. "Did he have a problem with Vance?"

"Matter of fact, Vance crossed him about a year ago," Vernon answered, voice slightly hushed. "Probably cost him fifty grand in royalties," he added, the man next to him nodding confirmation.

"Would you happen to know where this person is?" I asked as Dean tucked the tarot card back into the pocket of his jacket.

"Four twenty-six Bleeker," Vernon answered without missing a beat.

"Ask for Chief," his friend added.

"Chief?" Dean asked, getting a nod in return. "Thank you." He gave Vernon a pat on the back as the two of us stood, leaving.

...

"Stay close to me," Dean told me as we walked down the creepy looking street, heading for the building Vernon and his friend directed us to.

I wasn't feeling too good about this. The lonely street. The sirens in the background. The dark night. The unending possibilities of danger lurking in every corner of the place. It just wasn't sitting right with me.

Coming to stop at the door of the building we were looking for, Dean knocked on the bars of the door before taking half a step back so he stood closer to me.

The chain-link door inside swung open, revealing a man dressed in black, who looked the two of us up and down.

Trying to play it cool, Dean moved another inch or so closer to me as he spoke to the man. "We're, uh… here to see Chief."

Raising an eyebrow, the guy looked us over once more before opening the door without a word. Stepping to the side, he gestured for us to enter, which we did.

The moment I stepped over the threshold, Dean's hand found its way into mine. I was startled for a moment but didn't question or stop him. I knew he was just being his protective self, so I let him hold my hand as we moved through the dark and mysterious building, following the man as he took us down to the basement.

As we came to a stop, the man turned to us. "Stay here. Don't touch anything," was all he said before he walked off.

Once we were alone, I turned to Dean, shaking my head. "I don't like this."

Looking around, I tried to ignore the gut-wrenching feeling inside me that was screaming at me, telling me to get out of there. The graffiti on the walls, exposed pipes, and dark atmosphere, it all seemed to increase the suspicion growing inside me.

Suddenly some music started playing in the background. We could hear the thumping of the bass get louder as a door opened, the light on the other side streaming in. Another man walked into the room, climbing the stairs, the light coming in from behind him making it hard to get a good look of the guy. That was until he stepped closer...

The was dressed in all leather, carrying a flogger which he used to slap his hand a few times. "You are really gonna get it tonight." He grinned at the two of us.

Dean moved a little closer to me as he tried to explain our way out of his. "There's been a misunderstanding." He grinned, just as embarrassed as I suddenly felt. "I, uh, think we've been had."

"Oh, you ain't been had till you been had by the Chief." The Chief smirked for a moment before he quickly added, "Oh, and before we get started, what's your safe-word?"

Oh, my God...

SPOV

Sitting in the motel room, doing some research on my laptop, I looked up at the sound of a knock on the door. Getting out of my seat, I walked around to go check to see who might be here. As I looked through the peephole, I let out a sigh, seeing Ruby on the other side.

Opening the door, I looked down at her. "What are you doing here, Ruby?"

Arms crossed over her chest, she looked as annoyed as I felt. "I should be asking you the same thing," she countered, pushing past me and into the room.

Closing the door, I followed her to the middle of the room. "I'm working a job."

"The whole world's about to be engulfed in hellfire, and you're in Magictown, USA."

I let out a short, bitter laugh. "You got something against magic?"

"That would almost be funny if thirty-four seals hadn't been broken already." She gave me an exasperated look. "Thirty-four, Sam. That's over halfway. The angels are losing this war. Every day is one day closer, and if someone doesn't do something soon-"

I cut her off, "And that someone is me?"

"Who else would it be? Lizzie?"

"Leave her out of this." If I didn't want anything to do with the end of the world, there was no way I was letting Lizzie deal with it. Not the way Ruby was talking about. "Look, I don't know where these seals are. I don't know squat. So why don't you tell me where you'd like me to start?"

"Well, you can quit dicking around here, for one. Bigger fish, Sam. And if the seals are being broken, you might want to go after the one doing the breaking."

"Lilith?"

"Cut the head off the snake. You're the only one who can stop her, Sam." She stepped up to me. "So, step up and kill the little bitch," she said as she passed me to stand on the other side of the room.

"Oh, I'm game, believe me," I assured her as I moved to where she'd been standing before. "It's not the psychic thing I got a problem with."

"Yeah, I know what you got a problem with, but tough. It's the only way."

"No." It was that simple.

"You know, this would all be so much easier if you'd just admit to yourself that you like it. That feeling that it gives you."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't, huh? Fine." She moved to leave, only to stop herself. "It's simple. Lucifer rises, the apocalypse starts. You think that you have blood on your hands now? People are gonna die, Sam. Oceans of people. So, you just let me know when you're ready." This time, she didn't stop, she just left.

DPOV

Back in the theatre, Liz and I headed over to where Sam stood, waiting for us. Liz and I hadn't really talked about what happened at the Chief's. It was awkward. Not because something happened, nothing happened, really. Once we explained the situation, the Chief was pretty understanding. Apparently, people got tricked into going there a lot.

No, the awkward part was what happened after. When Liz and I were in the dark street again. Standing there, in silence, thinking over what had just happened, and all the memories it brought up. Memories of us.

There was no point in denying my feelings anymore. I liked Liz. I knew. Sam knew it. I was pretty sure Liz did, too. So, standing there, in the ally, by ourselves... yeah it had been awkward.

"Find anything interesting?" I asked Sam as we reached him.

He turned to us. "What? Uh, no. You?"

I shook my head. "Nothing I want to talk about, or think about, ever again." There was no way I was telling him about the Chief. So, instead, I started towards Vernon and his friend as they stood closer to the stage. "The Chief, huh?"

They both turned to Liz, Sam and I, Vernon's friend smirking at us. "What's the matter? Chief not your type?"

I grinned back, but was clearly unamused. "You know, I could have you both arrested for obstruction of justice."

"How? You're no Fed," Vernon stated simply.

"We con people for a living, son," his friend added. "Takes more than a fake badge to get past us."

I let out a nervous laugh, our cover was blown. "You got us. Yeah, we- we are actually- aspiring magicians," I lied.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we- we came to the convention 'cause we thought we could learn something."

"To get some idea for our new show," Liz finished.

Vernon looked intrigued. "Ooh, what kind of show?"

"Well, it's- it's a-"

When I stumbled on thinking something up, Sam saved the day. "It's a brother act."

"And I'm their assistant," Liz quickly added.

I went on with the lie, trying to make it sound believable. "Yeah. Yeah, you know, with the rings and doves and... rings."

Before anyone else could say more, applause broke out in the gathering audience as someone spoke into a microphone, introducing an act. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Incredible Jay."

"You want to learn something? Stick around." Vernon's friend gestured to the stage where Jay- the guy who Jeb had interviewed earlier- stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jay addressed the audience, "what you're about to witness is a feat so daring, So dangerous, even the great Houdini dared not attempt it. I give to you...The Executioner!" Suddenly, a noose fell from the roof as the crowd 'oohed' and 'ahhed'.

...

Jay was now strapped into a straightjacket, the noose around his neck as someone from the audience checked to make sure that he was in fact, securely strapped in.

"Now, sir, as you can see, this jacket is the real article. Thank you, sir." Jay nodded to the man. "You may take your seat." Once the man was off the stage, Jay addressed everyone again. "Now, I will have one minute, sixty seconds, to escape certain death. Let's see if I can do it."

A curtain fell in front of Jay, so only his silhouette can be seen and he began to struggle and a time started to tick away.

He continues to try and escape, but as far as I could see, he wasn't getting anywhere. He was still firming strapped into the jacket.

"I don't think he's gonna make it," I mumbled to Liz and Sam.

The timer kept ticking down. Twenty-five seconds. Twenty. Fifteen. Yet he still wasn't out. There was no change.

As the clock reached ten seconds, Liz's hand grabbed mine, squeezing it tightly. I looked over at her, seeing her eyes wide with fear and anticipation. Turning back to the stage, I watched as the timed clicked to zero and the bottom under Jay fell away, leaving him hanging.

People cried out, gasped, stood and looked away as the lights changed so we could no longer see the silhouette.

But the curtains were then pushed aside, revealing Jay, standing there, unharmed and out of the noose and jacket.

People cheered and applauded the act as Jay gave a bow.

"Oh! That was amazing!" I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. "That was freakin' amazing!"

But Sam shook his head, looking at the stage, confused. "That was... not humanly possible."

Bamby

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x oc #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fic #elizabeth rose hart #the hart #the hart iii: secrets

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iwillsithereandtrytocontribute · 4 years

Text

Lost in the Wrong Story

I Knew You

Masterlist Last Next Ao3

A/N: A mini series collaboration of Roman angst between @hitmewiththatfanart33 and I. Feel free to ask either of us to be tagged. The next part will be posted to her blog!

Chapter Summary: Roman’s absence is affecting Patton a lot more than he lets on, and given the opportunity, he goes after him alone. Roman makes it clear he’s there to stay.

Janus blinked owlishly as the early morning sunlight flooded into the room. That was strange. His room didn’t get sun. It took him a moment to realize where he was, but Patton’s arm around his torso quickly gave it away to his still-exhausted brain, as did the thousands of pictures lining the walls. Patton pulled Janus in tighter, wrapping him in his warm embrace until he was flush against his back, and oh how Janus longed to shut his eyes and melt into him. After the night he’d had, Janus could sleep for hours more. He shook his head slightly with the knowledge he couldn’t, and he forced his eyes to stay open, however heavy their lids were. Unfortunately, being awake meant that everything was starting to come back to him.

His heart ached, wishing Roman could be here with them. Janus must have moved slightly because Patton opened his eyes and removed his arm from around him to reach for his glasses. Janus sat up with a quiet groan, almost instantly missing Patton’s warmth, and he shivered as a chill ran over him.

“Morning, Honey-Dee,” Patton yawned. It was a huge one that merited a small, cute head shake afterwards.

“Good morning, my love,” Janus hummed, (voice true to his favorite pet name), barely holding in a matching yawn. Patton giggled and cupped his cheek to give him a quick morning kiss as well as nuzzle their noses together. Logan knocked on the door frame— when had he gotten there?— effectively drawing their attention away from one another. He looked entirely too fond. “And my other love.” Virgil appeared behind Logan. “And my—”

“Yeah, yeah. We get it, Jay,” Virgil interrupted. “We’ve got more important things to do.” Janus decided not to mention the deep blush that had appeared on Virgil’s cheeks. He was right of course, but that didn’t take away from Janus’ satisfaction at flustering his partners.

Logan, on the other hand, was much more serious. He’d always been the most insufferable morning person. Knowing him, he’d been up for hours. “I am a little surprised at you, Janus. I would have expected you up by now seeing how worried you were last night. Given what you described, I was up rather early in order to begin our search for Roman.”

Janus rolled his eyes. He flicked his hand at Logan, putting him in the dress he had worn the night before, and god did he look good, shoulders bare and more elegantly dressed than they’d ever seen him. “You try running a restaurant in that.” Logan’s blush was matched by his partners. Now was not the time to be useless gays, but god dammit if that wasn’t just what they were.

“I may have made an error in judgement,” Logan acknowledged. Virgil discreetly kicked him. Patton didn’t notice, but Janus still caught it and delighted in the rapidly deepening blush that came across their nerd’s face. “I apologize for being short with you,” he finished sheepishly, returning himself to his regular shirt and tie.

“I convinced him to let you sleep in,” Virgil explained. Janus thanked his stars for his emo, for if he’d gotten a second less of sleep, he was sure he’d commit several different crimes today before blacking out. Several more than usual, that is.

Patton cocked his head to the side. “It’s not like you to be up so early, Virge.”

“It is if I never slept,” Virgil said, doing finger guns in a poor attempt to lighten the situation. Patton crossed his arms, giving Virgil his Pattonted death stare.

“We’ll talk about that later.”

Janus swung his legs out of bed and stood up. A wave of his hand removed any rumples from his clothing— he’d been too tired to change last night— restoring it to its crisp, clean norm, and as a finishing touch, he snapped his shoes on before elegantly twirling his bowler hat between his fingers, placing it on his head. Patton did the same, the only difference being him switching out his cat onesie for his normal clothing. Janus took a deep breath. “Alright. Let’s get Remus.”

***

Patton hid behind Logan, as did Virgil, which was why he held his hand so that their brave Janus, who had put up with Remus’ chaos for years could do the talking. Logan was probably the warmest of all of them, even though Ro— smile, Patton— Patton himself was a pretty cozy temperature. He didn’t know what it was. He just radiated heat that Patton could feel even from merely hovering close to his strong shoulders. The same couldn’t be said for Janus and Virgil, however, for the two of them were cold as corpses— ew no, he was too close to Remus’ room gross gross gross…

“Hello, Remus,” Janus greeted smoothly. Patton loved his voice so much.

“Riddle me this: if my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, what does he want?” The way he spoke— like they were prey— made Patton squeak and squeeze his boyfriend’s cold hand tighter.

“For you to open the imagination. Roman locked us out.” Janus sounded annoyed already, and Patton peered around Logan’s shoulder to brave a look at the scene.

Remus lounged languidly against his door, holding it seductively, but at least there wasn’t any blood involved, and Janus had his arms crossed with his weight shifted to one leg in impatience with the duke. “Not my problem,” Remus shrugged, about to close the door. Janus stuck his foot inside.

“It is when he’s your brother and might not be coming home unless you help us,” he snapped. Then his tone softened, his eyes flickered to the floor, and he looked so uncharacteristically troubled. “He’s really hurting right now, Remus. Please.”

“Only if I get to call Patton daddy.”

“No,” Patton’s partners all quickly said in unison. Patton blushed. He was still scarred from figuring out what that meant after being called it so many times, but he was used to it by now.

Remus considered Janus, peering to the left of his door to get a good look at the other three of them, and Patton shuddered. “Fine,” he groaned after a long silence. “I can’t unlock it, but I can use my door.”

Janus stepped aside to let Remus out, and he shut his door behind him, closed his eyes, then opened it again. It was just a swirling black portal of some sort. “In you go! There’s no telling where you’ll end up— it’s a bit chaotic in there— but if you think about brother dearest long enough, you should be able to find him.” Remus sounded incredibly impish, which made Patton a bit nervous, but when it came to any of his partners, he would do anything. He took a deep breath, stepped around Logan, and charged through the door before he could be stopped. He only had one thought on his mind: Roman.

When he stumbled through to whatever side, dimension, or however else he could have possibly reached this place from Remus’ door, he was in a lovely khaki skirt with a loose-fitting, light blue shirt tucked into it beneath a black corset of sorts. His feet were bare— that was probably the first thing he noticed because suddenly there was grass— and everything around him was so green and alive. Nearby a gray... scarf?... he assumed to be his rested on a low-hanging tree branch. Under that same tree sat a basket.

Everything was starting to feel eerily familiar...

Nostalgic.

He let himself breathe in the fresh air that smelled of spring while he figured it out, letting the sun filtering down from the gaps in the trees hit his freckled arms. This place felt like home. All he could hear were birds chirping their beautiful songs without a trace of another human in sight or earshot, which troubled him, but he didn’t let it deter him from his mission. He’d be found by his loves if he got lost, right? Of course. Why would he even doubt it?

Though he tried to think bright thoughts, his smile felt queasy and he suddenly dreaded having rushed through the door alone. Why wasn’t anyone else here yet? And where was here? His breaths began to come in heavier, and he spun in a circle. Everything looked the same. These were just trees in the woods with no markings, no one to hold his hand, and certainly no one to lead the way.

That just meant he had to figure things out for himself. Janus had said fairy tales, right? Well then which one was he in?

Oh! Oh! Black corset, tan skirt, no shoes… Was he— was he Aurora?! Patton squealed, unable to stop himself from jumping up and down in the soft greenery. ‘I know how to find Roman,’ he sang in his head, though really Roman would be coming to him.

He clasped his hands behind his back innocently, looking around before beginning to sing. He took a big, slow, almost dancing step, liking the way the skirt moved with his leg. “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.” He twirled, and soon he was getting into the swing of things, freely sashaying around the forest floor.

“And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem, but if I know you, I know what you’ll do: you’ll love me at once, the way you did once…” Patton suddenly stopped, his chest throbbing as the full force of everything hit him. “... upon a… dream.” Then, of course, he was crying. What if Roman really didn’t come for him? What if he didn’t want them to find him so badly that he would just leave Patton alone? What if he never got his fingers kissed again, or had someone to sleepily sing with him in the morning? What if no one ever carried him to bed when he accidentally fell asleep during a movie? What if he never got to tell Roman how much he loved him again? God, he missed him so terribly much already.

He pressed his back against one of the trees with the gray bark, burying his face in his hands to wet them with tears in private. Someone gently tried to pry them away, and Patton, thinking he was alone, screamed loud enough to send the birds flying. There was nowhere to scramble backwards to, so his first instinct was to push the person away from him as hard as he could. They didn’t so much as budge. And though his original effort failed, Patton was instantly overwhelmed with joy because he’d know that broad, firm chest anywhere. His head shot up.

Heart still pounding, he grinned, exclaiming, “Ro—”

“Shh. Dance with me?” Patton frowned, hesitantly offering his hands with halting movement as he tried to discern Roman’s face. He hid his sad eyes behind a concerned expression, and in a moment the look was gone, turning into a too-wide, too-bright smile. Roman took Patton’s hands, pulling him away from the tree, and began twirling him in time to music that played softly from thin air. Roman hummed along as they danced without saying a word.

Patton tried to enjoy it, he really did. Roman was an elegant dancer and Patton enjoyed being his partner, but something was obviously wrong. Patton couldn’t pinpoint the denial as accurately as Janus, but as in tune as he was to emotion, it was hard to miss the raw feeling in Roman’s face, posture, even the world he had created. “Roman—” Patton tried again.

Roman pulled Patton closer, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, but never once did he look him in the eye, instead gazing off somewhere behind him. “It’s alright, Patton. You’re allowed to cry,” he murmured. Patton almost laughed.

“It’s not about that. I mean, I suppose it is... I just didn’t think you were coming for me, and I missed you so much it hurt.” Patton was far from laughing now. He felt tears burn trails down his cheeks, and their dancing came to a halt along with the music. Roman lifted a hand to wipe the tears off of his face.

“You missed me?” Roman asked haltingly. His face slackened for a moment before being drawn back into that fake smile. It almost looked like a glitch, the sudden changes scaring Patton. “We only met but a few minutes ago. Did I make that large of an impression on you, darling?” he teased.

No no no… He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t— “Roman, we’ve been dating for months.” Patton was full-on crying now. He hadn’t quite believed Janus until now, for there was no way Roman felt so unwanted with all of them around. And yet… here they were. Standing in the middle of a serene forest that his ever so talented love had created, Patton uncontrollably crying his eyes out and Roman standing still as a statue because he didn’t know how to cope. How was it that Patton was only now feeling the depth of Roman’s insecurities? How was he only now realizing how hurt Roman was?

Roman dropped Patton’s hands reflexively, taking a small step back. “Patton… Why are you here?”

“We— We came for you. Janus told us what happened and—”

“I told him not to follow me. I need— I need some space.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Patton took a step forward. “You need to come home.” Roman stepped further away, turning his back to Patton. “Roman?” He tried to put his hand on Roman’s shoulder, but he pulled away.

“Where were you when Janus came for me?” Roman asked hollowly. “You leave me alone for days before showing up randomly to discuss our feelings? I’m sick of it, Patton. I just want to be left alone.” Did he, or was he trying to push them away? Roman turned his head slightly towards Patton, and he swore he would never forget that apathetic goodbye. “Don’t try to follow me.” His stomach sank in dread.

Then Roman began walking through the trees, and behind him tumbled in thick fumes of fog. Patton desperately tried to follow him, but his regal form was quickly enveloped in the mist like a fleeting vision of a ghost that Patton had been graced with, leaving him to stumble around blindly, tripping over tree roots and low bushes. Roman wasn’t gone. He wouldn’t just leave him like this. It was a joke, right? Please let it be a joke.

He kept going and going and going, too scared of being left alone to stop, too scared of losing Roman to slow down. At one point he walked face-first into a tree branch, breaking his glasses, though it wasn’t like he could see in the first place. He threw them to the ground with a sobbing scream of frustration, then kept moving.

He had to keep searching. He had to.

“Roman?” Patton called. “Roman, this isn’t funny. Come out.” He finally found the end to the fog, but no Roman. Grief and fear twisted together to wrench his stomach. “Roman!’ Patton yelled louder and louder, diving back into the fog, screaming Roman’s name until his voice was hoarse. He fell more times than he could count, tearing his skirt and even his skin on more than just a few occasions. Wherever Roman was, he wasn’t here anymore. Slowly, the fog cleared, leaving a beaten-down Patton to numbly wander the forest.

He was alone.

@cuter-on-the-inside @abbyisconfused @n4o5r7a9 @omni-hamiltrash @fandomsofrandom @t0astyt0es @withspaces @anyelram841 @yep-another-fander @strangecreatureyoucantidentify @fandom-trash-304 @chelsvans @nomejodasb @iampengwing @neonb-fly @analogical-mess @midnight-tragedyy @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @athenashipsthings @thgjclw @littleladynightshade @casuallyimpossibledream @hekking-happy-nonsense @comicsimpson @slutforketchup @sanderrsidess @i-need-you-buddy @witchyvirgil @ghosttb0y @pixelatedrose @emilightniing @csi-baker-street-babes @iwillsithereandtrytocontribute @spooky-scary-virgil @justanothernerdyfandomblog @phantomfantasize @panicattheeveywhere @hedgiehoggles @i-really-like-dragons @youre-lazy-and-youre-gay0-0 @crabsncrabs @gattonero17 @dragonleesupporter @lokiamorstuffs @emo--nightmaree @anotherbisexualbooklover @7-slights-at-virgil @romanvirgil @croftersjam15

#dlamp #fairytale #fairy tale #ts fic #ts fanfic #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #thomas sanders #jasper writes #ts roman #ts remus #ts janus #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil #disney #roman angst #royality

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sanderssides-springfling · 4 years

Text

To Woo A Snake

for @ionlyeatcomfortfood

Synopsis: a DLAMP hogwarts au! Roman, Virgil, Logan, and Patton all find themselves crushing on a certain snake. As they’re already dating each other, they make it their personal mission to see if one more might be added to their relationship.

This was super fun to write, and I’m sorry I’m not the best at Hogwarts au’s but I hope you like this!

This is really fluffy so there’s not really any warnings, besides the mention of cults in general a few times in passing and also my horrific attempt at writing something that resembles flirting.

Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil had a problem and it was one they intended to solve. They sat in the quietest corner of the surprisingly busy library, a small bit of privacy created by a wall of books. Logan had control of a large piece of parchment, scribbling down notes with his quill as fast as he could. Between Roman, Virgil, and him the suggestions were rapid fire with only Patton to keep them calm.

“What if we tried using big signs with an accompanied song and dance? We could do a Disney medley!” Roman suggested, waving his arms around to mimic the proposed song and dance. Logan and Virgil looked confused, with Virgil looking almost disgusted. Patton attempted a supportive glance, but Virgil spoke up.

“Ignoring whatever the hell a Disney is, no. Obviously not. We agreed no public humiliation and this is public humiliation to a tee, just imagine the looks! The taunts! We won’t be able to go to the great hall for weeks!” Virgil said, attempting to scribble out Roman’s idea. Roman retaliated by muttering something about purebloods being “uncultured” before Virgil continued his point, “Besides, how does that even solve anything? That’s just an excuse for you to sing, when we should be focusing on the problem!”

The problem in question was called Janus, or Deceit if you were one of their crueler classmates. He was a Slytherin in their year and good friends with all of them. He stood out to most for two things. The first being scales that covered half his face, bleeding into snake-like eyes and -if you were paying close enough attention- an almost-forked tongue. The second was the fact that he wore a bowler hat and long yellow rubber gloves over their uniform robes. Most people found him weird, however those four all found him ridiculously attractive. Not only that, but they decided that, if he agreed, they would want him as a part of their relationship. Now, all there was to do was decide on how to go about asking him.

The worst part is that they barely had any experience to work with. What they had, really, just kind of happened. By the time they were third years it was just universally acknowledged that they loved each other. Without even speaking the words, it was just a fact. It was made official that year, sure, but there was no question of if, only of when. This was different. They didn’t even know if he liked them in that way or not. Trying to figure out how not to get horribly rejected made them start to understand the hordes of people confused about how they managed to pull their four person relationship off. Heck, it made them start to wonder how they did it.

It was completely new territory for the past almost-year. More days than not one of them would end up a blushing and flustered mess over Janus and they’d all end up gushing about him.

Logan spoke up in an attempt to calm down his boyfriends, “Think about this logically, all four of us at once would likely overwhelm him, so it would be better for us to approach him one at a time, possibly doing small tests to see if our attraction is reciprocated.”

“Logan, do you mean flirting? Do you want us to flirt with him?” Virgil laughed, more amused than making fun of.

Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, “Yes, I suppose “flirting” is what I am suggesting we attempt, although I would normally be against a less direct method I believe as we are uncertain of his interest level, running an experiment would make the most logical sense. He may be polyamourous, however making an uneducated assumption could result in the loss of his friendship-something I assume none of use are keen to.”

Patton smiled, more genuine than his earlier false support. Roman and Virgil seemed to look content as well. It was a vague enough compromise, and let Virgil’s worries of “public humiliation” be postponed for another day. There began their attempt to woo a snake.

******

Patton sat impatiently, grinning as he waited for Janus to arrive at Potions class. Yes, he was excited every day for Janus to arrive as they were good friends, however today was special. He was going to let his feelings be known, at least a little bit more. Honestly, he was bad at keeping his adoration hidden, but at least this time it would (hopefully) be more clearly romantic.

He sat behind his cauldron, all the ingredients for that day’s potion layed out in front of him. He tried not to think about this going badly, swinging his feet around under the desk. He took a look at the confusing potion recipe and immediately knew his time would be more spent on Janus than on this.

The teacher didn’t care if he was paying attention or not, having given up on him after his horrible cooking skills seemed to translate to potion making. Not to mention he was a Hufflepuff, who were notorious for having no collective understanding of potions, in a class with Slytherins, the recipients of blatant favoritism. He never stood a chance.

As he was poking the materials, looking for good puns, he felt a familiar presence take the seat next to him. He looked the same as usual. Taller than him, with bright yellow gloves that happened to match Patton’s tie, multicolored eyes. Suddenly, a sense of panic washed over him.

Oh god. What was he even doing? He was so nice and smart and caring! Patton was just Patton! He was already running his luck with his four amazing boyfriends, he was bound to run out eventually! What could he possibly want with him! aaaaaAAAAA-

“Patton? Are you doing okay?” Janus asked, trying to meet his eyes. Patton probably looked terrified, his internal panic bleeding all over his face. Janus hesitantly put his hand on Patton’s shoulder, and he almost died. No matter how many times it happened, he would never get over the emotional roller-coaster of a crush.

“Yeah, Jay, I’m doing good!” Patton said, trying his best to cover his panic with a smile. Janus looked him over, as if he didn’t buy the quick change from panic to his usual bubbly self.

“Very believable Patton, honestly you should win one of those muggle Oscars,” Janus said, in an over-dramatic tone that called Patton’s bluff. When Patton made no moves to actually explain, Janus got more serious, “Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, I’m not going to make you, but you need to take care of yourself. If there’s something bothering you, please don’t overwork yourself.”

There he went again, making sure Patton wasn’t pushing down his own needs. This was a conversation that happened more often than it probably should have. It may have been a generally platonic gesture, however it did nothing to help the crush brewing in his stomach.

“Yeah! I’m fine, really this time. Promise, kiddo!” Patton said, letting the bubbly feeling override the nerves. He was fine, if not a little nervous. How could he not be fine, with one of the people he loved the most right next to him!

“Patton, I am 6 months older than you.”

“Age is just a number the government pays attention to and also affects our day to day life!”

Janus gave out a light snort and turned back to the potion recipe. He went quickly to the work, letting Patton help more or less whenever he wanted to. Janus was definitely more adept at potion-making than he was so their agreement to let Janus handle most of the work was both unspoken and sturdy.

Suddenly, a small part of Patton wished he had made a plan like Logan and Virgil suggested, though he knew that was never something he was ever going to do. He loved all his boyfriends very much, but he and Roman were most alike when it came to romance. It should be spontaneous! Speaking from the heart!

Sadly, the heart was hard to hear over the rising levels of panic.

Janus made quick work of the first few steps, before handing a piece of wormwood to him. Patton was apparently responsible for the small chopping board. He was ready to slice, dice, and crush whatever they would need! Hopefully not his hand, though.

“Patton, could you cut that up for me?” Janus asked casually, before turning to his dramatic tone, “After all, you are so adept in this class, especially with sharp objects. I totally don’t need you to worry about being careful and am definitely not trying to let you be included. You’re just the best man for the job!”

It fell in between insult and concern, but twisted his heart nonetheless. He chopped up the wormwood as quickly as possible, like on the muggle cooking shows he loved back home. He came very close to losing a few digits, yes, however it was for the most part a success. In the moments he spent trying to slice up the ingredient, he came up with a genius strategy. Puns.

“Here you go Jay! But before that, I have to ask,” Patton said, moving to reveal the completely expertly chopped plant, “worm-would you be mine?”

Janus took the wormwood with his eyes widened and a more-than-subtle blush on his face. For a second, Patton worried that he freaked Jay out. Fortunately, Janus resumed his usual focused, if not smug, expression. The blush didn’t seem to make any effort at leaving, though. It was all the invitation Patton needed to push down his worry and keep going.

“Do newt go breaking my heart!”

“You’ve flobberworm-ed your way into my heart!”

“You make me weak in the peo-knees!”

Some were better than others, yes, but over the course of the whole class Jay never once spoke out to complain. His face maintained its blush, but it didn’t seem to be in embarrassment. He seemed almost… happy? After every pun he could see a surprised smile cross him for just a moment before resuming his usual expression.

Patton decided to consider that a successful “experiment trial”, as Logan would call it. Maybe their efforts wouldn’t be disastrous after all.

****

Roman was, for all intents and purposes, hyped about the quidditch game he would be playing in less than ten minutes. He was jogging around the pitch in anticipation, doubling it as extended warm ups. He would need it, his future courtship might hinge on the success of this game.

Okay, so maybe Roman didn’t have a “plan”. Whatever. What would he need a plan for when he had pure unadulterated romance? He already knew the only two things he needed to know: 1) It was going to be awesome 2) refer to thing one. So what if Virgil said that it might be a bad idea? His boyfriend was an absolute cynic and this would be great.

He finished his jogging, which could have been seen as pointless considering that quidditch was a sport played in the air, and mounted his broom. The team captain gave a little speech, the same one she gave before every game. Blah blah blah, Ravenclaw would be hard to beat, they needed teamwork blah blah blah. She knew they all knew this stuff but claimed it was good for morale, so they listened anyways. By the time she finished, he was more than ready to begin his position as Gryffindor Seeker Extraordinaire.

Step one, besides getting in position and staring down the opposing seeker (who of course just HAD to be his brother, Remus), was locating Janus. This wasn’t hard.

Janus, while thoroughly disgusted with the incredibly dangerous and injury-riddled sport that was quidditch, he had no problem voicing these disgusts to the whole school. He had been the commentator ever since first year, when he refused to get on a broom during flying class. He claimed it wasn’t out of fear, although Roman could remember the look in his eyes suggesting otherwise. Either way, he agreed to be the commentator in exchange for never so much as looking at a quaffle or a snitch ever again.

He could barely see Janus, but his voice rang out loud and clear throughout the stadium, his slightly amused commentary voice preparing the crowd for the match. Speaking of the crowd, his boyfriends were there to support him like always. They weren’t hard to spot, sitting in the same seats as always.

Patton had a hyper level of support as per usual, face painted in red and gold despite being a Hufflepuff. Logan was holding a small “Go Ravenclaw!” flag and waved it a little as he caught Roman’s eye. Sure he talked big talk about being completely rational and logical, but he was just as petty and contrarian as Roman was. He loved it. Virgil looked very supportive, and gave a soft smile as Roman looked over at him. This quickly transformed into a look of “Please, Roman, don’t cause a scene this time”. It was a look he was well acquainted with. He waved over at them, grinning wide. He even threw in a wink to Virgil, letting him know that he would be sorely disappointed.

He regained his focus and the whistle blew, signaling the start of the match. The snitch zipped to the edge of the pitch at the speed of light as Roman chased after it. It moved like a scared rabbit, twitchy and fast as lightning. He raced Remus around, neck in neck every second of the way. He paid attention to Janus as he raced, using his words to pay attention to the surrounding pitch. Turns out Gryffindor managed to score two points in the first five minutes. Ravenclaw scored four, but that’s besides the point.

All of a sudden, an object came hurtling from the corner of his eye. He did a downwards corkscrew maneuver, spinning with a small nosedive. The sound of swishing air went over his head, before the crack of a beater’s bat sounded the offending bludger flying in the opposite direction. As soon as he got back upright, Janus noted his return. Taking a brief pause, he moved one hand from the broom and blew Janus a kiss. Janus’ voice seemed to take a brief stutter, catching on his next words. Roman hoped he was the cause.

The chase began again as Roman looked for the snitch. Luckily Remus seemed just as lost as he was, because he was not losing his big moment to his gremlin of a younger twin brother. Another bludger flew right at Roman, making him scramble to dodge. Seriously, he was starting to think they were aiming for him. This time, as he regained balance, he threw an exaggerated wink at Janus. His voice seemed to catch again, letting Roman know that he had to be the cause. It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence.

The rest of the match seemed to follow suit. He would desperately chase after the snitch, occasionally swerving to dodge bludgers and even his own teammates when he was at his most focused. Every time he had a moment to pause, he’d give Janus a wink or a smile or blow a kiss. This included the time that Janus, slightly reluctantly, complemented Roman’s seeking skills and Roman mimed out being struck by cupid’s bow. Nothing too outrageous, nothing that would cause Virgil and Logan to be baffled by his utter lack of self preservation when it came to public humiliation.

Roman and Remus were on each other’s tails, like they had been the majority of the hour they had been playing. The downfall of having twin seekers was that they almost seemed to move in sync sometimes. Every push forward was met with the other striking back just as hard. They were in a scrambled chase as the golden snitch pulled them from place to place, changing pace and direction at a whim.

The snitch dove down, twenty or so feet from where they were both flying. Janus restated the scores, voice bored and bitter but still attentive, and Roman saw his chance. If he caught it now, they’d win. He dove down a little bit deeper than the snitch did, hoping to guess where it was going. He guessed wrong, and the snitch flew away from his hands, leaving him grasping at air. He could hear Janus laugh just a little bit, not maliciously but amused.

It was Remus’ turn to attempt at the snitch while Roman momentarily turned around. Fortunately the snitch blazed right past him, and they both went zooming. Pressing forward as fast as they could, it was like Remus realized that Roman intended to end the match then and there. Maybe twins really did have a psychic connection.

They went faster and faster, getting as close as they could, reaching out desperately for the cold metal. They were so close he could practically reach out and touch Remus’ hand. He reached out as the snitch came to an abrupt stop. It happened in the blink of an eye, but he was ever so slightly faster. He grabbed the snitch and grasped it firmly in his fist, refusing to let it go. He did it. They won.

Catching the snitch made Roman want to do something impulsive. Fortunately, Roman had very poor impulse control skills, so this was easy. He took the small metal ball out of his tight grip and took it tenderly between his fingers. The rest of the team was starting to wonder what on earth he was doing, but there was no stopping him. He, as carefully as he could, stepped on top of his broom. Yes, any wrong move would send him plummeting to many many broken bones and possibly certain doom, but this was the awesome thing he was waiting for.

He held up the snitch, letting it reflect against the sun as he stared right through it and at Janus. His hand outstretched, he began to speak.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks! ‘Tis the east, and Janus is the sun. Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her knave, art more fair than she!” Roman recited, suddenly wishing Hogwarts had a theater club. Every person there was staring holes into him, including his team and boyfriends. No one knew what exactly just happened, including Roman.

Janus hadn’t quite turned off the microphone, so he heard a second of sputtering before going silent. He got back on his broom and flew down, handing over the snitch to a confused Coach. The exhilaration and the exercise had his face still flushed by the time he walked off the quidditch pitch, to be approached by his boyfriends.

“Dude. Woah,” Virgil said, and he couldn’t quite tell if he was impressed, shocked, confused, or all three. Before anyone else could get a word in, the four enveloped themselves in a group hug.

“You did so good Ro!” Patton complimented, almost vibrating in excitement. Patton possibly loved quidditch even more than Roman did, although he was still a beginner. Roman offered to teach him, but Patton swore he felt best behind in the crowd.

“I have to agree with Patton, Roman your performance was indeed exemplary,” Logan said, tone even and objective. The legitimate pride and love did of course seep through.

“Yeah, Princey, I forget how good you are at that,” Virgil said, thoroughly impressed. “Though we have to discuss the elephant in the room here: How are you not dying of embarrassment? I was practically shaking just looking at you.”

“It’s about the gusto! The romance of it all!” Roman said, lifting out his hands in a flourish, “No need to shake, my chemical romance, because I think that went unbelievably well!”

Logan nodded along as if that made sense enough, Virgil snorted, and Patton smiled.

“Ro, if it is any consolation you definitely would have woo’d my socks right off!” Patton said, moving to press a quick kiss to Roman’s cheek.

Roman left with his boyfriends, absolutely confident about his flirting mastery, even after Logan questioned why he chose a quote from “the muggle play with the excessive amounts of death”. Roman then spent the next hour explaining Romeo and Juliet to Logan, with Virgil attempting to undermine him at every step, despite having no real knowledge of muggle literature. *****

Transfiguration was where Virgil and Logan decided they’d proceed with their experiment. Based on the results of Roman and Patton, it seemed like they would probably be at least semi-successful, however they didn’t want to leave room for error. Hence, doing it at the same time. They would likely work more confidently together, and the other person would be able to gauge the reaction more accurately.

They read some of Roman’s muggle romance novels for inspiration the previous nights. They obviously couldn’t go into it unprepared and admittedly neither of them were romantic experts. Virgil didn’t mind them too much, besides the clearly disturbing elements of certain stories that were being passed off as romantic. Did muggles think stalkers were attractive? Logan on the other hand flat out didn’t understand half the stories. How anyone could behave so illogically towards a near stranger, he would never comprehend.

The two of them sat at their desks, staring at the assignment in front of them. It was mostly instructions on how to turn the dead beetles in front of them into buttons and, as always, Virgil was near convinced it was impossible. Ok, he knew it wasn’t impossible- his two magical parents made a big deal of trying to teach him this sort of stuff from as long as he could remember. They wanted him to be their magical genius trophy kid. He was not their magical genius trophy kid.

Due to his magical abilities being really mediocre and transfiguration being really hard, Virgil just stared at his wand and his bugs and sighed. Doubt and worry snuck in, about all of it. He was almost certain he couldn’t do it, any of it, and that it would be a huge disaster. The weight of the anxiety he had been trying to ignore pressed down on him like his own personal gravity.

“Great, can’t wait to not only ruin the whole flirting thing for the rest of you, but also completely tank this assignment. Fantastic,” Virgil said, burying his face in his hands, dreading even picking up the wand. Logan turned to him, a comforting smile on his face, and pulled Virgil’s hands from his face.

“Virgil, you’re going to be fine. As far as this class goes you are doing just fine and if you begin to struggle, I’m here to help you. As far as Janus goes, however he reacts isn’t up to you. You cannot assume anything. I do know, from experience, that you are an amazing individual and he would be lucky to have you. Objectively,” Logan adjusted his glasses as he said the last word. He always did get uncomfortable with his emotions. It made Virgil chuckle just a little, the weight lifting just a little.

As their conversation drifted to other things, such as which teachers were most likely to start a cult, Janus walked in and took the seat next to Logan. They made sure not to pay too much attention to him as he walked in, something from Roman’s books about “playing hard to get”. Still, a wave of nervousness went through Virgil, as if their trial had finally begun.

“Anyways, I think you could honestly make the argument that care of magical creatures is already a cult, if an inhuman one,” Logan argued as Janus looked at their assignment for the day, already turning over to be let into the conversation, “Janus, you’re finally here. What professor would lead the best cult?”

Janus pretended to think it over, before giving a fake earnest look, “Magical History, easily. The professor’s boring, long yarns really adds to the charisma. The way he puts people to sleep really has the command of a real leader.”

Virgil snorted, shaking his head, “You’re both so wrong, it’s easily the coach. You’ve seen the quidditch teams- they’re already halfway to cult status.”

“Coach does not count as a real professor, but fine,” Logan said, turning his attention to their actual classwork. The teacher wasn’t going to actually try and teach them anything, seeing as Ravenclaws had a fifty percent chance of blowing it off and a fifty percent chance of doing it faster than he could teach, Slytherins would very loudly race each other to do it the fastest and the best, and both together created a very uniquely bad teaching environment.

The assignment went by fairly quickly and painlessly. Despite frustratingly worded instructions, they got through it easily enough. Virgil did eventually have a difficult time trying to get the transformation right, but with Janus and Logan’s attempts at teaching him, he got through it with time to spare. They then did what they did most days, had in depth conversations about subjects that didn’t particularly matter all that much. Logan decided this was the perfect place to try flirting.

“Hey Janus,” Logan said, diverting the conversation from Janus, who had experience with muggle culture, quizzing Virgil, who had no experience with muggle culture, about what exactly he thought Pokemon was, “are you, in any capacity, attracted to me?”

Janus blushed and choked on air while Virgil looked somewhere between shock and disbelief. Logan saw nothing inherently wrong with what he said, it was direct and to the point, something many of Roman’s protagonists could benefit from. It would hopefully avoid any “hijinks” built on miscommunication.

Janus cleared his throat, forcing the look of panic down. He put on his most performative smile, using the dramatic gestures he usually donned while lying, “Of course Logan, why- can’t you tell? I’m completely in love with you!” He even batted his eyelashes a few times for good measure. Despite all of the obvious signs, Logan could tell this wasn’t quite a lie. Exaggerated and dramatized, but not completely wrong.

Virgil seemed to pick up on this too, however he did not look any less baffled by the situation as a whole. Virgil chose to stay silent for now, figuring he didn’t want to make a weird situation even weirder. Then, Logan decided to speak up.

“Okay. Would you say you have a willingness and/or a want to be in a relationship with multiple people? Including myself and Virgil?” Logan somehow managed to say this in the same flat tone he always spoke, as if this were some commonplace obvious question.

Janus dropped his act, becoming momentarily serious, “Logan if this is some roundabout way of asking if I’m polyamorous, I already told you I was a few weeks ago, and yes, I would be open to a relationship right now, potentially with you and Virgil.”

Virgil, in his nervous bafflement, carefully reached towards Janus, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure?” he asked, less sure of whether or not this was just another, more discreet, act.

“No, Virgil. In fact, I’ve been playing the long con with you. My name is Jacob, I’m straight and am getting engaged to my long-time girlfriend Kayleigh,” Janus said, tone becoming performative once again. The obvious lie lightened the conversation and made the incessant drumming of Virgil’s heartbeat chill out momentarily.

The three of them tried to take the awkward conversation in stride, moving on to topics like how useful was divination, really and which muggle philosophers were totally secret muggleborns. It was surprisingly easy getting back into their normal conversations, but once class was over Logan and Virgil both felt some level of relief.

“Did that actually work? Like, was that a fever dream or did that happen?” Virgil said as they walked out of the classroom.

“I’ve always told you: the best way to do everything is to be direct and leave no room for guessing,” Logan said simply, as if he, too wasn’t internally freaking out.

“I think Roman might disagree with you on that one, but I am too amazed to care, oh my god.”

The two walked away, to reconvene with their boyfriends and tell them about the amazingly weird conversation they just had.

****

Janus also had a problem, but his was more recent in nature. See, he happened to have a crush on not one, but four boys. Who were all in a relationship- with each other. He had known for months that it was never going to happen, trying to crush any hope of even one of them returning his affections. Them being poly like him helped his odds, but not by much. Their relationship was something he respected and accepted that being a part of it just wasn’t going to be an option. Being friends was something he was perfectly fine with too, something he genuinely enjoyed. He was okay with his situation the way it was.

But then the weirdest thing happened.

Over the past few days, the four of them seemed to be doing… something. He didn’t really know what was going on, at first. One day in Potions, Patton just started making romantically-themed puns at him while they were supposed to be working. It affected him more than he would like to admit, but it also just confused him. He didn’t bring it up any other time. Then, a few days later, when he almost forgot the incident in Potions, Roman started winking at him and blowing kisses during the quidditch match. The behavior, while very effective at flustering him, wasn’t all that uncommon. Roman was just one of those people who could be like that sometimes. It didn’t mean anything. Until, however, the match ended and his stupidly brave self stood up on his broom and recited Romeo and Juliet to him. It was confusingly romantic.

He was really truly baffled, because it seemed like the weird type of flirting those two would actually use, but he had to be the one who was wrong. That simply could not be the case, he was just reading too much into some totally normal friendship things, right?

He was bordering the line between “convincing himself” and “lying to himself” when he finally got some sense of what was going on. Virgil and Logan acted normally during their Transfiguration class the Monday after the game, until right in the middle of an engaging conversation where he lied to Virgil about what Pokemon were. Logan asked, in the most Logan-y possible way, if he was attracted to him.

Janus obviously tried to deflect, taking his real feelings and making them as dramatic as possible. He hoped they would assume he was joking. He hoped wrong. He seemed to forget that he was dealing with Logan, who takes everything literally, as Logan seemed to take it at face value. Despite the complete embarrassment of it all, it did let Janus know that, yes, they were probably trying to flirt with him. It was awkward and unpracticed, but that seemed to be what their goal was.

Still, he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t have confirmation, which he was slightly desperate to get as soon as possible.

He waited till they had a break in classes to try and find them all together. It shouldn’t have been hard, considering they were practically attached at the hip at all times. Wandering around, he ran into Remus, one of his best friends and Roman’s twin. He was dubiously trustworthy at best, but it was worth a shot.

“Remus, do you know where Roman is? I need to talk with him and his boyfriends,” Janus asked, watching Remus shake around a jar full of half-formed beetle-buttons. Remus thought for a moment, although whether or not it was actually about his question was a different matter altogether.

“Finally shooting your shot Jay-Jay?” Remus asked, wiggling his eyebrows, dyed highlighter pink, “Well I haven’t seen my dear darling brother in a long time, but I’m pretty sure he’s in the library. He hangs out with a bunch of nerds, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He decided to leave instead of furthering the conversation, lest he find out what Remus was planning on doing with those beetles. It couldn’t be anything good and he wanted at least plausible deniability.

It didn’t take him long to find them in the library, in some corner poorly guarded by bookshelves. Janus could have sworn they were in a meeting by the way they were seated, even with a pad of paper in front of Logan, who was taking a few notes. He could hear them talking, but he didn’t quite understand it.

“Okay, so maybe your method was “most effective” and “got results” but where was the flair? The panache? It’s about the drama of it all, Logan-” Roman said, heavily using air quotes. Janus tried to get just a little bit closer, but because Hogwarts was an ancient building, the floorboard he stepped on creaked loud enough to alert half the school. All four of them turned to look at him with varying degrees of embarrassment when they registered who it was.

Janus quietly entered the little nook, standing at the end of the table where they were seated. They were all staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Hello everyone, I just figured I’d pop by, see how you were doing,” he said, trying to smooth out his tone, “also to perhaps inquire if and why you all seemed to be flirting with me.”

This did not make anyone any less nervous, including and especially Patton and Virgil, who both looked on the verge of hyperventilation. Logan however still seemed to be less fazed by all of it.

“Janus, you’re here, good. Yes, we were “flirting” with you to gauge your romantic interest. I assume based on our results, you are in fact romantically interested in us?” Logan said, casual as ever. Janus didn’t expect the bluntness and as it seemed, neither did Patton, Virgil, and Roman.

He paused for a moment, practically forgetting to breathe. This wasn’t how he imagined this going, and he imagined it a lot. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for an answer and he was thoroughly tongue-tied. He swallowed his nerves and tried to speak, “Yes, I- yes. I like you all. Romantically, that is. A lot.”

The four of them seemed to calm down just a bit after hearing that, the tension clearing ever so slightly. It was then Roman’s turn to speak, getting up from the table and approaching Janus.

“This isn’t quite the spectacle I was hoping for,” Roman said, side-eyeing Logan, “but I guess if the time is right, would you go out with us?”

“Please!” added Patton, still sitting down. They all looked so unbelievably hopeful, Janus could barely believe it. He paused, not because he was hesitant but to make sure it was real. That this wouldn’t disappear if he blinked.

“Yes, of course yes. I would love to go out with all of you. Maybe, if I’m allowed, I’d even be your boyfriend,” He said, the words practically falling out of his mouth.

Virgil spoke up next, hesitantly, “Really? You would really want that?”

“Yes Virgil, really. I really want to date all of you.”

“Sounds fake but… okay.”

Patton sprung up out of his seat, rushing to hug Janus. It was a comfortable weight, one he was used to, but now the meaning was slightly different. It was… nice. Roman then joined Patton in hugging Janus, squeezing slightly tighter. Virgil walked up too, wrapping his arms around them all and relaxing his head against them. Logan was the last to join their group hug, but although stiff, his hug carried just as much care.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, perfectly comfortable. In that moment, they were happy, and they knew they would be happy for many more moments to come, truly feeling happier together.

#dlamp #hogwarts!au #spring fling 2020 #submission

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darkelite020 · 3 years

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Bad bad episode 9 reactions & predictions

Continuing these written reactions/predictions cause it's fun I think to see what actually ends up happening and remembering what I thought at the time so I’m dumping it here. (Feel free to discuss if you want) if you want to keep up with it im gonna be tagging these as #jay rambles about bb

There was a trailer that came out halfway through the season so BONUS ROUND: - OOO The trailer is kind of badass already honestly like this music slaps and I’m with it - We haven’t seen that part with the AT TEs yet >> I’m not sure where it is but if you look carefully theres people moving out of their way but they actually seem concerned or afraid, which gives me the idea the empire is invading rather than “Securing the area” or something. We see some of bad batch kind of hiding from them so theyre probably gonna have to do a stealthy sort of mission that episode, or at least at first. - I still don’t see crosshair with them ;-; - Fennec what are you doing? Going off last episode I assumed omega gets turned in by cad so it doesn’t make sense why fennec would still be after her, so I think rather in this episode she is going to intercept him somehow and take her or she’s supposed to bring omega to someone who isn’t the empire but who? Fennec almost looks like shes maybe trying to care for/guide omega sort of in one part but thats probably just her trying to convince omega like last time or something cause omega then proceeds to try to drop that tank or whatever it is on her. -- Speaking of, wherever that place with those green tanks is significant, like some kind of laboratory or something that was abandoned maybe? I wonder what was in those tanks, but its kind of giving me the vibes of that one place we saw in the mandalorian. I doubt that this is the same kind of deal where they tried to make people force sensitive there and stuff, but what is it and why would fennec bring omega there?>> - Tech being a *king* proud of you bud for stunning the clones instead of shooting them - The music lining up with the trailer and shots is A++ 10/10 love it -------------------------------------- OK INTO THE ACTUAL EPISODE NOW: - Aw hunter being hurt and worried about omega makes me sad :c - OH MY GOD crosshair I know you got burned but HOLY SHIT like sir you are CRISPY gndfjkgbdfkjg -- It makes me sad now that he’s probably going after them because of revenge now aside from just the chip... like its possible that his ‘inner self’ sees them as someone who left him behind and is at fault for him getting hurt so if they ever do save him (which I definitely dont think is for *several* episodes or maybe not even in this season) he might be pretty bitter towards them :( - I miss Cads bigger hat tbh -- also the little western music and the ‘lil lady’ love the blue space cowboy vibes, I know thats always been his thing but I still appreciate it - So its the kaminoans after her as I expected. -- Im sure they wanted her alive but the fact that thats how bane answers kind of hints that if she was dead he’d still get paid so WHAT is going on with her seriously >> --- they say “make sure she stays that way” but still not sure really if its a preference or a need, it seems like a need kind of but I guess bane would have tricks up his sleeve otherwise...? - Prime minister is bad!~ -- I hope the kaminoan who has that bond helps her, also genetic material needed implies they want to make clones of omega (which I would be surprised if we saw that) but now her ability is really important whatever it is... --- Ohhhhhhhhhhhh we’re getting some answers... I guess that makes more sense. I’m honestly surprised she doesn’t have some special ability along with that stuff just because all of bad batch has something, but she’s definitely important enough for the plot to focus on her as much as it does. - uh oh uh oh uh oh -- Omega hurry sis signal them even if you get caught cause youre gonna get caught anyway just hurry it up!!! --- run run run ----ok honestly omega just knowing how to do all this stuff coincidentally is a little... less enjoyable knowing it literally just is a coincidence now. ----- thank goodness though bad batch was at least able to hear her, I feel like that hint about what the doors looked like is going to help them at least a little in finding her

- omega dont be quiet like honestly its not like he’s gonna shoot you --Oooo fennec is gonna intercept and take her and theyre gonna go to that place in the trailer --- DOUBT IT BUT WHAT IF THAT KAMINOAN SENT FENNEC --- oop or that place with the tubes is this place -yessssss good job omega! - oh this is the part in the trailer I just talked about I guess but fennec has a very strange... disposition about her. Its like she wants to help but she cares more about her job (which makes sense but idk its just like weird vibes idk how to feel about them). - thats nastyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy -- omega get up and run again sis --- honestly its not like banes droid could carry her back ---- yep exactly what I thought - honestly omega knows bad batch is coming for her because of the signal she sent, would it not be better to stay on the planet? Like yeah she has to get away from the bounty hunters but she also shouldnt make it harder for bb to get her back. - wow that was really lucky actually -- but yay the family is back together :’) I wasn’t really expecting that so soon honestly - yep good im glad it was that kaminoan hiring fennec, but fennec should’ve mentioned bane to them because bane is still going to hunt her so she really isnt safe. - oh no the music a cute bonding moment is gonna happen aghhhh - :( this is saddddddddddddddddd - “promise” “I promise” I feel like that promise is gonna get broken because *cough* AGAIN SAVE CROSSHAIR 2021 THANK you *cough* along with other reasons but also Gregor made a promise too dbwgjekjfb I couldn’t resist ok -rhewjtbrwkjeg the fucking sudden loud ending music lowkey a jump scare

#the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #bad batch spoilers #tcw #bad batch spoilers episode 9 #jay rambles about bb #tcw spoilers #the clone wars spoilers

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lululawrence · 4 years

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lululawrence’s Fics Posted in 2019

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

2019 was a bit crazy, but I’m so proud of the fics that I’ve been able to write and publish this year! There were quite a few of them, so here they are in order of when they were published. I hope you enjoy!

Hey Look, Ma (9k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said.

Louis made sure he’d only dropped his hat, reached down to pick it up, and was dusting it off when he finally looked up.

“It’s alright...mate…” Louis had seen this man before. He was gorgeous. He lived somewhere in the area, because Louis would often pass him on the street heading home from the tube or the nearest bus stop.

And now, here he was. Standing in all his fluffy, curly haired glory in front of Louis, apologising for nearly bowling him over.

“I really am sorry, though. Let me get you a coffee to make up for it?”

Or the one where Louis is a hybrid who agrees to go on a blind date with his neighbour's colleague's son the same night he literally runs into his dream man. Surely this isn't going to end well... or is it?

Charisma (5k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was smiling, and maybe blushing a little as well, as he accepted the phone back. “Thank you,” he glanced down at his phone and then said, “Louis.”

Smiling happily at the way Harry had said his name, Louis watched him leave the room. The further away he got, the more confused Louis was. Yes, Harry was gorgeous, but how the hell had he forgotten that Harry was also the man who had caused him to almost have a major accident earlier because of his haphazard driving? How had he allowed Harry to distract him with his charm to the extent that instead of giving the man a lecture, Louis accepted the offer of a date?

Well. Whatever the reason was, Louis wouldn’t forget when Harry called. Louis would give him a piece of his mind then and see if Harry still wanted to go out with him at that point. Because yeah, Louis was not mad enough about his overreaction to Harry, both on the road and at the event tonight, to turn that opportunity for a date down. He wasn’t stupid.

Or the one where Harry feeds on awesomeness (possibly literally). Louis is awesome and also angry. They’re probably going to fall in love.

Drabbles for Harry's Birthday Drive 2019 (25k) - Various Pairings

Each chapter is a different drabble dedicated to a person who donated to Harry's birthday drive! The prompt requested as well as the pairing are in the author’s note for each chapter as well. There are multiple pairings due to various pairings being requested by the donors, so please pay attention to that information in each chapter! Pairings include Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam,, Grimmy/Louis, Greg/Louis, Zayn/Louis, and Niall/Shawn.

It’s the Climb (25k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis stretched out his back and turned around, startled to see the most beautiful man he’d ever encountered in his life riding towards him on a horse.

He had to still be asleep. This was one of those super weird dreams people had where the knight in shining armor (or in this case, red sleeveless flannel) literally rode up to them calling their name.

The Hannah Montana AU where Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer. In her attempt for Louis to get back to his roots, he just so happens to reconnect with Harry, and things never go quite as Louis expects them to.

It Was Only a Kiss (16k) - Various Pairings

I participated in a kiss prompt drabble challenge on Tumblr, and ended up writing thirty-three drabbles! Because of the amount all for one challenge, I decided to post them on AO3 to save them. Each prompt exists on its own without relation to others, so pick and choose as you like.

If You Want To Be Loved (0.5k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Greg can't sleep. For once, he doesn't really mind.

(Something’s Been) Hiding In My Heart (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“My eyes must be deceiving me,” Harry said in his slow drawl. His voice was deeper than Louis remembered. Maybe some things had changed after all.

“They aren’t deceiving you. I’m here because I need you to finally sign these papers,” Louis said before he dropped the stack of paper on the hood of the car and held out a pen to Harry. “Just do it, Harry. Get it over with and then I’ll be out of your life forever, alright?”

Face blank of all emotion outside of a sneer Harry said, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“God,” Louis groaned. Harry just couldn’t let this be easy. His pride wouldn’t allow it. “You know, I never really understood that phrase, but no. I am not ‘shitting’ you. Just sign the damn papers.”

“Ya know, I don’t think I will,” Harry said before turning back to the front door.

When the screen door slammed behind him, Louis realized Harry didn’t have anything else to say.

Or a Sweet Home Alabama AU where Louis comes home to finally get his divorce from Harry finalized so he can move on with his life. Alderford holds its own set of challenges when he returns, but by facing his past maybe he can find the healing he so desperately needs.

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) (36k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.

There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

You Turned Up (Like a Friend of Mine) (10k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis padded downstairs, feeling incredibly thirsty. He filled up a glass of water and was about to take a drink when a loud knock sounded at the door accompanied by some yelling and ringing of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” Louis muttered, setting his glass on the counter and rushing towards the door.

As he got closer to the door, though, his mind stopped whirling because the voice was one that was etched forever in his mind, but one that he never thought he would ever hear again.

“Why’s the door locked? Did you seriously go without me? And who’s car is in the driveway? Lou, I knew you’d be late to get me. We’re going to miss-”

Louis whipped the door open, sure that he was just imagining things. There was no way…

Except there was. Standing on the front step was the curly haired, boy-faced Harry Louis had last seen ten years ago today.

Or the one where Harry disappears on graduation day only to show up on Louis' door looking exactly the same ten years later. Through a series of strange events, maybe they can finally figure out that they're destined to be together, no matter what.

Stealing Flowers (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”

He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Standing in the mess Greg’s shift had left behind, Louis decided he would start small. He’d organise the paint colour cards that displayed the names and then get started on the sample tins. It wasn’t until he started opening the boxes of colour cards that Louis started to wonder whether Nick had been the one to name the paint after all.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? was along the top left corner of a mustard yellow card. Nick was as big a fan of puns and music as anyone, so while it was unorthodox, Louis didn’t think too much of it. Part of the appeal of Annie’s Hardware was that they didn’t take things too seriously while always maintaining professionalism.

The names that followed did leave Louis to wonder if Annie knew exactly what the chosen paint names were, though. The Colour Of My Tears When ‘FRIENDS’ Ended for a soft white, Barneys Blood for a pale purple, and Blond. James Blond. for a sand tone had Louis convinced that it was a different co-worker who had renamed the colours.

Or the one where Louis has pined after Greg for what seems like ages, but when Greg renames the company's paint colors, something might finally be ready to give.

Like a Lighthouse On The Coast (I Need You) (19k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis placed his order with the server and was about to type up some possible lyrics when he heard the music being piped in go silent and a throat was cleared into a mic.

Oh God no. If Louis had known there was going to be live music, he would have chosen somewhere else. Why did they have to ruin what was truly the perfect ambiance for Louis with some sub-par wannabe singer-songwriter?

“Hello, I’m going to sing some songs for you tonight. I hope you like them.”

The voice was deep and smooth, slower than Louis had expected. It made him want to look up at the singer rather than cower into the corner of his booth.

So he did. The man didn’t look nervous at all, but he didn’t look like the cocky asshole Louis had been expecting either. Louis continued to brace himself as he took in the simple Ramones shirt and jeans the man was wearing, when something Louis hadn’t been expecting happened.

The man began to play his guitar, and he was good.

And then, the man began to sing.

Or the one where Louis has all the pressure of his sophomore album and none of the inspiration, but maybe all he needs is someone like Harry Styles to turn all that around.

Oh Honey, Honey (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis hated honey. He didn’t like the flavour, he didn’t understand why some liked it in their tea, he hated when it was put on sandwiches or cake or anything really. But, standing stock still in front of a rather large display of honey in that 24-hour Tesco, Louis found himself grabbing the largest jar of “100% pure London-local honey” and adding it to his trolley, simply because he knew it would make Harry smile.

Louis always wanted to make Harry smile.

Or the one where Louis pines after Harry, Harry is passionate about helping save the bees, and a late night shopping trip gone wrong doesn't end quite as horribly as Louis imagines.

You Don’t Care About Me (One More Night) (60k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

“Nick. You’re into guys. What should I do?”

Nick snorted. “You think just ‘cause I’m gay, I know what you should do?”

Louis blinked at him and Nick admired his eyelashes against his will. “Well. Kind of, yeah.”

“That is not how this works,” Nick said. “Besides, it’s not like you can just go and suck someone’s dick to be sure you like it the way I did. You’re too famous to try it my way.”

Louis’ expression changed to one of awe. “That’s how you figured it out? You sucked some random’s dick?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah. Basically. I mean, I knew for pretty damn sure before that, mind you, but that did solidify the matter for me.”

“I need to suck a dick,” Louis said, turning to look at the wall of Nick’s room.

“You could suck mine, if it would help,” Nick offered before he could stop himself.

Or the one where Louis pines for Harry and Nick helps ease his way into figuring himself out through a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Things quickly turn complicated.

A Taste of Honey (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door expecting someone with Deliveroo. Instead his gaze lifted so he could look at a very frazzled, incredibly fluffy haired Greg James who was inexplicably holding out a very large jar of honey.

“Hello, Gregory,” Louis said slowly.

Shifting around, Greg stepped forward and held the honey out towards Louis again. “This is for you.”

“Erm, alright,” Louis said before carefully taking the heavy jar from him. “Thank you?”

Greg flashed a wide grin, nodded, and then without another word walked back out the front door of the building.

Or the one where Louis has been pining after Greg ever since he started his job. Greg randomly showing up at his flat with a jar of honey might be just the push Louis needs to finally talk to the man.

Just Like Honey (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door and he looked so soft and beautiful. He was in a ratty pair of grey joggers and that was it. Harry had never seen him look so good.

When Harry finally raised his eyes from Louis’ chest, he realised Louis had likely said something.

“Uh,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Smirking a little, Louis crossed his arms and popped his hip. “I said, ‘Hello, Harry. What brings you here so late on a Saturday?’”

Then his brain kicked in.

“Right, fuck. Hi, Louis. I just wanted to give you this.”

Louis’ brows creased as Harry held the honey out to him. Taking the jar from Harry, he said, “Honey?”

Nodding, Harry said, “Yep. Hope you have a great night!”

Fisting his hands at his sides in frustration, Harry left the building as quickly as he could.

Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me (3k) - Greg James/Harry Styles

Harry knocked once more before coming to the conclusion that knocking for longer than that was rude.

He’d just decided to leave when the door opened.

“Fuck, you were asleep, weren’t you?”

“Well, it’s past 8, so yeah, basically,” Greg said with a yawn.

God, he’d been asleep for over an hour. Harry was the worst.

“I’m so sorry. Here. Take this and get back to sleep. I’m so incredibly sorry for waking you up,” Harry babbled, shoving the jar of honey into Greg’s hands.

Greg looked at the jar then back up at Harry, still not saying anything. Probably because his brain was still asleep just like his body would’ve been if Harry hadn’t been a fucking idiot.

“Sorry again!” Harry said before giving a lame wave and rushing off to the nearest tube station.

Or the one where Harry pines after fellow Radio 1 DJ Greg James but doesn't know how to start a conversation with him...until he gets the needed inspiration.

Our Love is Timeless (6k) - Niall Horan/Shawn Mendes

He rinsed out his shampoo and began to scrub at his body. Turning around to rinse his back and wash his front, Shawn was not prepared to be met with a cursing blond Irishman.

Letting out a rather loud, high pitched scream and covering himself as best he could, Shawn backed up into the wall behind him, which also turned off the shower.

“Thanks, mate. Was hoping not to get my clothes entirely soaked,” the man said as he began stepping out of the shower stall. “Say, what year is it?”

“I...what?” Shawn sputtered. “You just show up, fully clothed, in a stranger’s shower and your first question is what year it is? How the fuck did you get in here? Why my shower? Who are you?”

“Well, yeah. I guess so. I’ve not quite got a handle of the whole time traveling thing yet.”

Or the one where Shawn falls for Niall, who just happens to be a time traveler. The course of true love never did run smooth.

Like Honey to the Bee (3k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

Nick didn’t even remember knocking, but suddenly the door he also didn’t realise he was leaning on opened and he started falling inside Louis and Harry’s flat.

“Fuck,” Nick blurted as he tried to right himself. He was caught by Louis, which was great because he was exactly who he wanted to see and he didn’t really fancy dropping a massive jar of honey on his doorstep.

“Nicholas?” Louis asked.

Nick couldn’t help it. Hearing Louis call him by his full name made him shiver. He usually hated it, but there was something magical about Louis Tomlinson that made the usual negative association suddenly become an incredibly positive one.

“I brought you honey,” Nick blurted as he handed Louis the jar.

“I can see that,” Louis said, sounding confused. “Thanks?”

“Of course! It’s what friends do, yeah?”

Or the one where Nick has been trying to find a way to get past the banter stage with Louis for ages, and honey might be just what he needs to finally do so.

Rings and Things (2k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Niall: I know you’re a lesbian and all, but this is fast even for you

Or the one where Harry wakes up after a night of drinking to find her bed isn't empty and there's a ring she's never seen before on a very important finger.

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Grounded (28k) - Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“Shit, I definitely missed the last train.”

“Oh no,” Louis lamented. “I’d offer a ride, but I’m part of a carpool and we’re full already. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.” Then, what Louis said sank in. “Wait, I thought you were here alone?”

“Oh, I am. I’m the only one dancing here tonight. The others were working. In fact, here’s Nick now.”

It felt like slow motion as a tall, lanky man with incredible hair came walking over towards Louis. He smiled before pulling Louis into him and giving him a quick kiss.

“Nick, this is my new friend Harry. He just moved to the area and he’s amazing at swing. Harry, this is my husband, Nick.”

Fuck.

Or the one where Harry moves to Washington DC to be a nanny and never expects that his past struggles with love will be brought to a head. He definitely never expects the solution to it all will be the man of his dreams that just so happens to be married to the other man of his dreams.

A Halloween M(ass)hap (1k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was never going to forgive Niall. He’d been so distracted by his roommate’s cleaning and fussing while he had been looking for the perfect trousers for Liam’s annual Halloween fancy dress party that he’d not realised the black leather trousers he’d chosen to complete his vampire look were arseless.

Of course there was a no return policy, so he’d done the only thing he could do in order to not waste the money he’d already forked out online for the damn things: he added a cape.

Surely, nothing could go wrong.

I Wanna Love (Like You Made Me Feel) (28k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

By the time Harry and Louis are eighteen years old, they've known each other all four years of high school. Through those years, they never have a real chance to spend time together just the two of them. The summer after graduation gives them that chance, and it changes just about everything.

Ten years later, Louis returns home feeling like a failure after losing his job and not knowing where to go next. He never expects to run into Harry again, much less rekindle their friendship. Could this finally be their chance to finish what they started all those years ago, or did they really miss their chance at love?

Swipe Right for a Clean Flat (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was done. He was over this shit. He literally only asked his flatmate to do one chore, and that was the washing up. He couldn’t even handle a few plates and cups. Harry obviously overestimated him.

Louis wasn’t that bad. It was just that he only did the washing if he was going out to pull and wanted to bring someone home. If the dishes were put away, that was how Harry knew to vacate the premises. There was no way he was going to listen to yet another girl moan Louis’ name while Harry laid in bed and wondered what it might be like if only Louis liked men.

Glaring at the full sink and debating washing up himself - again - Harry finally turned and stalked to his room.

“Dire circumstances,” Harry muttered as he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are flatmates and Harry is tired of Louis not doing the washing up. He figures signing up on Tinder as a hot girl might be just the fix for this issue.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster (7k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

As Nick scanned the shelves, his eyes caught on a bright blue binding. Snooki, it read, A Shore Thing.

“Oh my God,” Nick mumbled, trying not to laugh as he picked it up. He’d watched bits and pieces of Jersey Shore way back in the day.

Without bothering to look any further around the store, he headed up to the counter where Blue eyes was watching him. Nick cleared his throat nervously and set the book on the counter and the man immediately flashed him a look of disdain.

“Seriously? Out of everything we have available, you chose the book we special ordered for a customer?”

“Well, it can’t be that bad if someone specifically requested it, right?” Nick said, trying to keep a teasing tone.

“Why do you think we still have it if it was a special order?” the man asked with a scoff. “They returned it after reading something like three pages.”

Nick frowned at the book. “Well that doesn’t seem very fair.”

Or the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don't exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention.

Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him.

“Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before.

“Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?”

“Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin.

Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.”

Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

#mine #my fic masterpost #yearly masterpost #2019 masterpost #my fic #my fic rec #fic rec

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marbled-roses-au · 4 years

Text

Marbled Roses

~°Entry #: 002°~

Author's Note: This chapter has a small warning for paranoia and stalking, some bad mental health talk, and Tim thinks he's hallucinating, too, but he jokes about it more than anything. Also demon mention, I know that can be a trigger. Anyways, enjoy this chapter!~ 🌹

Alex smiled, holding his camera in his hand. "So, today, we are just going and scoping out some good filming spots. I asked the faculty yesterday and they said as long as I add the school into the credits, they are fine with it being a filming spot." He explained, smiling at his friends.

"Okay..." Tim said with a nod, "and why are you dragging us along?" He asked in an unamused tone.

Alex huffed a bit, "You and Brian are going to be some of the main characters and Jay is going to help me edit this. We all should be involved in the whole process." He explained. Tim was always grumpy, Alex never understood why. Of course, he never knew much about him...Tim tended to keep to himself. Well...himself and Brian, of course. None of them knew if they were secretly dating, but they all knew for sure that they were pining hard for one another. That much was very obvious.

"Fair enough." Tim said with a soft sigh. He didn't mind it too much, though, he would much rather been sleeping in on his weekend. His friends always had energy and he never knew where it came from. He didn't understand how they could possibly have a job, go to classes at ungodly hours in the morning (and not be late), have an active social life, and still have the energy to do fun stuff.

Jay just smiled a bit and looked around, "So, is there anywhere specific you are looking at for the end scenes?" He asked.

Alex smiled and nodded, "The school has some really nice cherry blossoms. I'm going to film the 'big kiss' there." He explained with a happy hum.

"Why there?" Brian asked, tilting his head a bit. Sometimes, Alex chose things and didn't have an explanation or a reason for his choice. Him, Tim, and Jay had all collectively agreed that Alex probably has ADD or ADHD, though they weren't psychiatrists and couldn't diagnose him based off of a few simple similar symptoms.

"Well, in Japanese culture, if you confess your love under a cherry blossom on the last day they are in bloom, the love will never die. It's a really sweet tradition. I found out about it in this really great anime I watched a few months ago." Alex rambled with a big smile. Sure, he was excited for the film and wanted to add some culture into his romance movie, but hopefully this tradition worked on Tim and Brian. He wanted to see them happily together.

"Weeb." Teased Tim, snickering softly when Alex gasped in mock offence and Jay and Brian chuckled under their breath.

"I'm getting all of this bullying on camera, you know." Alex said with a huff, puffing out his cheeks a bit. He was always the one getting picked on by his friends. "Oh yeah, speaking of camera, I'm going to be recording the 'auditions'. Even though you two have the roles, I want to get it on camera for any 'Behind the Scenes' stuff I do. I'm also going to buy small cameras for you guys to record personal rehearsals with." Alex said, smiling a bit, "That way, you guys can send us the videos and then Jay and I can watch them and send some feedback."

Brian sighed, smiling a bit, "Are the cameras for us necessary?" He asked, "I mean, we could just, like, video chat instead."

"The cameras are a necessity." Alex said, "Most of the time, I'll be running around, going to classes or just busy doing other stuff, video chats are too...inconvient." He explained, waving his hand to emphasize his point. Besides, something deep down told him they all needed their own cameras...he didn't know what that voice was or why it was there.

Though...ever since Alex had picked up that rose on his script, something had been whispering things to him when no one else was around; Things like...flattery...advice...encouragement...predictions.

Alex didn't really care what it was that was telling him these things at this point. All he cared about was that whatever or, rather, whoever this voice was, they were out to help him and his friends, not hurt them...and, somehow, this voice made him feel...secure.

"You know, its weird, its been a few days, and this rose hasn't wilted or anything." Alex said, "The blue has just...sort of faded and its getting more red."

Tim looked at Alex and huffed, "If you ask me, that damn rose is cursed..." He said, "If I were you, I would throw it in the garbage." Something about that rose made Tim uneasy and all he wanted was to get it as far away from him and his friends as possible.

"How much longer are we gonna be running around filming locations?" Jay yawned, "It's our weekend, we should be sleeping in or relaxing or...you know, something." He said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Usually, he was fine getting up early in the morning...today, however, he was exhausted and just wanting to hide under his covers.

"You guys are such buzzkills, you know that?" Alex asked, looking at all of them, "All I want to do is be out, filming locations with the people that are, you know, helping me with this movie." He complained, "But, if you guys really want to leave, then leave." He started walking ahead of them, frustrated with their constant complaining. He just wanted to have some fun, they were all being moody and boring.

"Alex..." Brian sighed, "c'mon, we aren't trying to be mean." He said, smiling softly. "Tim and I were doing classwork until the sun was coming up and then we couldn't even sleep after that because we were wound up..."

Jay hummed, "And my body and my brain wouldn't let me sleep last night. I think it was...6A.M...? Before I even passed out." He said, smiling sympathetically. He wished he could give more energy into this for Alex, he hated seeing his friend upset.

Alex turned to them, sighing a bit, "I know you guys aren't trying to be buzzkills." He said with a sigh, "I'm just so excited to film this and I want to share all of my ideas with you guys and incorporate some of your ideas, if you have any. I know I get a little...much...when I get excited." Though he hated to admit it, his friends were right in saying that he, in the nicest words possible, hyperfixated. He did that with most of his projects, losing motivation half way through and quitting. This time, however, he had made a promise; not just to himself, but to his friends, too. He wouldn't give up on this project, no matter what happened.

Tim looked around, frowning when he saw something...weird. "Hey...you guys see that, too, right?" He asked, nodding to...what could only be described as a very, very, tall man in a trench coat with a fedora covering his face. Something about the guy made Tim want to run and hide; giving him the same unsettled feeling as the rose did, only stronger.

Alex turned, facing the camera in the direction and tilting his head a bit. "Huh..." He hummed, "that...has to be a prop or something. People aren't that tall, right?" He asked, looking over at Tim, Jay, and Brian. He was the only one of them that didn't feel...worried or panicked.

Brian felt a bit unsettled deep inside, "Not normally." He said, frowning a little, "Has...Has he been watching us?"

Jay chewed at his lip, "Or...following us? He kinda looks like a sex offender..." He said softly.

The 'person' turned to them, a devilish, perverted, sharp-toothed smirk stretching across his white face. He held up a deep red rose before he tipped his hat to them, slipping behind a tree and seemingly disappearing after that; a gentle breeze of red and blue rose petals following behind him and falling gently onto the grass.

Alex walked over, ahead of the others, seeing if he could record any proof of that guys existence. However, when he looked behind the tree, there was nothing. Not a single trace that anyone was ever there, other than the trail of petals.

He couldn't wait to get back to the dorms and take the recording to his computer to see if he could get a better look at that...creature? Monster? Demon?

The group shared a look, eyes wide and a shared, uneasy feeling between the four of them. Without any words spoken, they all agreed that whatever that thing was, it wasn't human and it didn't look all too friendly, either.

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psychosistr · 4 years

Text

Pride

Summary: Domino and Steelbeak are sent to eliminate a target at a rather colorful event, leading Steelbeak to question his past attitude and learn a few things about a community he never thought he’d be a part of.

Notes: This is the result of having no power at work for eight hours, having typing programs on my phone, and remembering it’s pride month. So, enjoy this one shot of @thefriendlyfour‘s OC Domino and Steelbeak experiencing his first pride festival and learning more about himself x3

Another day, another mission, Dominic thought to himself as he and his partner, Steelbeak, made their way through the streets of Saint Canard.

Today’s assignment was fairly simple: F.O.W.L. High Command had plans involving a local company with rumors circulating around them regarding the possible production of portable thermonuclear generators with the same power output as an entire factory. If the rumors proved to be true, then such powerful devices could do the world a lot of good…or a lot harm, in the wrong hands. (Hence why F.O.W.L. had taken an interest in the company.) While the idea of a portable thermonuclear generator was certainly enticing, High Command was nothing if not thorough in their research & planning and needed more information on the validity of these rumors as well as information regarding the stability of the generators.

That was where the chief officer and his partner came into play- the two had been tasked with tracking down the head of security while he was away from the premises and “relieving him of duty” so that a similar looking agent could go in undercover to gather information and ultimately make any actual plans to breaking in easier when they were ready to make their move. Due to the nature of the lab’s research, it was hardly a surprise that they’d been assigned a security detail comprised primarily of military-grade personnel, with the head of security himself being a retired brigadier general. Needless to say, challenging him head-on in a location where there could be possible cameras- not to mention armed reinforcements- would be a very bad idea, meaning they had to get to him when he was as far away from the company as possible.

Luckily, F.O.W.L.’s sources had it on good authority that he was a regular presence at a certain event that took place downtown every June…

While the deadly duo would typically arrive at their destination in one of the agents’ cars, the streets were currently closed to vehicle traffic, so they’d been dropped off on a rooftop a few blocks from the target’s location via helicopter. After making their way down to the streets and navigating a few back alleys, the fowls found a side street leading them right to the middle of the festivities that had claimed downtown Saint Canard.

“You sure these outfits are gonna cut it, Deedee?” Steelbeak questioned as they prepared to enter the bright and colorful crowd in front of them.

“For the hundredth time, yes.” Dominic replied for what certainly felt like the hundredth time he’d repeated himself. Stepping out onto the sidewalk and revealing himself to the light of day, the loon was dressed in an outfit that was a far cry from what he normally wore. His usual iconic coat and hat had been exchanged for a sweater with large horizontal stripes in three main colors- purple on the bottom, white in the middle, and gray at the top with a black turtleneck collar- and a pair of square purple sunglasses. “Now come on, we’re already behind schedule.”

“I dunno, Dee..” Steelbeak mumbled as he stepped out to join the loon. Like his partner, he had also left his usual suit behind and was now dressed in a pair of vibrantly deep blue colored jeans with a plain black belt, a form-fitting light purple sleeveless muscle shirt, and a faded pink bandana around his neck. “How the heck is this-” He gestured broadly to his outfit with one hand, starting at the white ankle boots on his feet and moving upwards to his usual metallic prosthesis. “-not gonna get any looks?”

His answer was the frustrated rolling of a pair of red eyes and a shake of the loon’s head, his colored glasses briefly being removed to make the action more apparent. “I did what I could with what you had in your wardrobe, though it still would have been better if you’d taken my advice on the shoes-”

“I ain’t wearin’ sandals anywhere ‘cept the pool an’ the beach.” The taller bird rolled his own eyes while repeating his earlier opinion regarding his partner’s insistence on wearing a pair of ocean blue sandals that had been in the back of his walk-in closet. “An’ I still don’t get how walkin’ around dressed like a friggin’ unblended berry smoothie stands out less then my suit.”

“Trust me- I know more about this sort of thing than you do.” Not wanting to waste anymore time debating the matter, Dominic put his sunglasses back on and ventured out towards the colorful crowd of people in front of them. “The more you stand out here, the more you fit in.”

“If you say so, red eyes..” A look of uncertainty made the chief officer’s feelings on the matter clear, but he reluctantly followed his partner into the vibrant and noisy spectacle that was the annual Saint Canard Pride Festival.

Steelbeak’s general discomfort with his current clothes was quickly forgotten as he took in the various outlandish and far more insane outfits of the festival goers around him. The looks that passed over his face when he saw spectacles such as a female tiger walking around in nothing more than a bikini to properly show off how each of her normally orange stripes had been dyed a different color of the rainbow or a peacock with with an obviously fake set of oversized tail feathers alternating in pink, white, and blue were all truly priceless expressions that made Dominic wish he had a camera handy to capture the moments for posterity.

Unlike his partner, Dominic was mostly unfazed by the vibrantly energetic crowd. Although it had certainly been a while since he’d attended one of these events, it was most definitely not his first time going to a pride parade or festival. There were many reasons for him to avoid such gatherings (huge crowds, a general sense of chaos & disorder, and a unsettlingly large number of people who seemed to have trouble remembering things such as personal boundaries after a few drinks, to name a few), but, despite those irritations, there was still something comforting about being surrounded by such a generally cheerful atmosphere full of people who, to at least some capacity, all shared something in common. It definitely brought about a sense of pride and community to everyone in attendance-

“Burn in hell!”

-well, almost everyone…

The cursing followed by a loud crash drew the duo’s attention to the one unplanned yet ever present part of pride festivities that was universally despised by all attendees: Protestors.

The crash had come from one of the booth’s that had been set up along the side of the street selling pins and other small accessories. The short border collie in a frilled red, pink, and white sundress (the poor girl couldn’t have been older than twenty) who had been working at the now overturned table was currently cowering in fear from the intimidatingly tall grey and white goshawk dressed in dark jeans and a green button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows who was giving her an intimidating red-eyed glare while looming over her.

“Geez, what’s his problem?” Steelbeak watched the goshawk shout curses and obscenities at the cowering collie with a mild look of annoyance.

“A religious protestor, apparently.” Dominic replied with a scowl. “They’re usually lurking around these events somewhere, graciously taking time out of their day to make sure we all know how ‘immoral’ and ‘sinful’ we are.” The sarcasm and general feeling of disgust in his voice were nearly tangible.

“Sounds like someone’s got too much free time..” His partner commented with an appropriately matching amount of sarcasm. “..Wait a minute…” Dark eyes narrowed as Steelbeak looked the predatory bird over. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. After opening it up to take a look at the paper’s contents, a pleased and devious smirk found its way to the fowl’s deadly beak. “Oh-ho, Dom, you are gonna love this.”

Curiosity piqued, the loon moved closer to the chief officer so he could see the information as well. “…?” As he read the description and took in the blurry photograph printed on the crumpled paper, Dominic found a similar smirk spreading across his own beak. “My, my, that IS quite the coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Almost feels like we’re doin’ a public service on this one.” The taller bird put the paper back in his pocket before winking at his partner and doing a sweeping gesture with one hand towards the altercation across the street. “After you.”

“What a gentleman.” The darker fowl winked back with a quiet chuckle before weaving his way through the crowd. Along the way, he smoothly swiped a half-full plastic cup from a blue jay’s slack hand without being noticed. “Sir,” He began once he was close enough, earning the goshawk’s less-than-pleased attention. “All that screaming is bad for your throat. You should have a drink- my treat.”

Right on cue the taller bird opened his beak wide, likely to shout something derogatory, but whatever he had been about to say turned into muffled gargling and choking when he suddenly found the cup in Dominic’s hand shoved firmly towards the back of his mouth before he had time to finish drawing in a single breath. The unsuspecting goshawk was so preoccupied trying to cough up the liquid in his windpipe and dislodge the mass of plastic in his mouth that he didn’t even notice the equally large man drawing up behind him until a fist slammed into the back of his neck, sending him crashing to the ground. The attack served the dual purpose of (ironically) dislodging the cup from his beak and knocking the gray bird out cold.

There was a beat of silence from the festival goers around them before the crowd erupted into whistles and cheers. “Woooooh!”, “Nice!”, “Way to go!”, and “This is why we don’t need cops!” were just a few of the words and phrases that accompanied the applause.

“Ha..” Steelbeak grinned as he hefted the unconscious bird’s body up onto his shoulder. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard people cheerin’ just for doin’ our job.”

His voice had been just loud enough that only his partner had heard it over the loud clapping and excited hollering around them, so Dominic matched the tone with a grin of his own and a shrug. “They’d probably be less enthusiastic if they knew more about us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobody questioned where the pair of fowls were taking the knocked-out protestor (odds were high that they all wanted him as far away from them as possible and would more than likely play dumb if anyone came looking for him), making their job of bringing him into a back alley for disposal much easier. The noise from the festival goers further aided them- after all, with so much cheering, loud music, and general merry-making going on, no one noticed the sound of a silencer-equipped pistol being fired and the resulting blood splatter would be washed away by the rain later that night.

Taking a few twists and turns to be absolutely sure they weren’t followed, the agents finally spotted a dumpster behind a currently closed restaurant.

An efficient, if unpleasant, place to throw away their man-sized load of garbage.

Dominic, luckily, won the coin toss they’d used to assign tasks for the disposal process, meaning he got to search the body for its wallet, keys, and anything else necessary for their impostor’s charade to be a success while Steelbeak, much to his chagrin, was forced to rifle through the trash bags filling the dumpster and try to find enough nearly-empty ones to hide the remains in.

“Ugh, I’m seriously gonna hurl…” The rooster grumbled for the twelfth time since he’d started, the sound soon followed by a louder one when a bag dripped an unidentified black substance (hopefully just soda) onto his pant leg. “Ack! Well ain’t that just great?!”

Grabbing the last of the former head of security’s personal belongings, Dominic stood with a roll of his eyes. “If you stopped complaining, we’d be done by now.” He could feel the brief glare cast in his general direction, but chose not to acknowledge it as he pulled out his guns. Taking aim at the body on the ground in front of him, he fired out a burst of flames from one pistol, making sure to thoroughly scorch the remains.

“Hmph, easy t’ say when you’ve got the easy part..” Despite his complaints and protests, Steelbeak finished his job and managed to open the bags with minimal retching (though at this point he was likely just playing it up to be annoying). “Alright, short fuse, we’re good t’ go.”

“It’s about time.” The darker bird replied while pointing his other gun at the body, this one firing out freezing rounds of ice that encased the charred carcass in seconds.

There was a lull in the conversation for a while as the duo worked to break apart and hide the evidence of their crime. With Steelbeak’s exceptional strength, breaking apart the frozen-solid corpse was as easy as snapping a popsicle in half, making quick work of the body and handing the pieces off to Dominic so the other man could put them in the appropriately sized trash bags before they were chucked back into the dumpster. It was simple, monotonous work that they were able to do effectively without a word needing to be spoken between them to get the job done.

Comfortable silences were, surprisingly, a common thing for the chief officer and his partner, especially when they were on the clock. They could go back and forth between bantering, arguing, flirting, silence, and everyday chatter in equal measures and had gotten to a point where they were generally comfortable in one another’s presence with or without words…but this was not one of those comfortable or busy types of quiet- this was a “something needs to be said but hasn’t come out yet” type of quiet that generally brought the mood down until the issue was addressed.

By the time they’d finished throwing everything into the dumpster, Steelbeak had a look on his face that Dominic knew all too well: It was the one he wore when he wanted to say something but was doing his mental back-and-forth debate about if it would be “the wrong thing”. The taller bird was normally so cocky, so brimming with self-confidence to an almost insufferable degree, that sometimes it still took the loon by surprise to see him looking so unsure of himself.

Depending on his mood, Dominic could find it either endearing or frustrating. At the moment, though, after doing so much physical labor, he was leaning more towards the latter. Unfortunately, he knew how bad Steelbeak was about admitting what was bothering him, so it would likely fall on him to break the silence and-

“Hey..” Red eyes regarded the lighter bird curiously. So Steelbeak was going to bring it up on his own without any prompting this time? Good. Dominic would count that as some form of progress. “Was I…y’know…” The rooster was avoiding eye contact and moving one of his hands towards the dumpster in indication, an uncomfortable frown on his beak. “Was I…that bad before……?”

Even though he trailed off at the end, Dominic knew perfectly well what he meant. “No.” The answer came without hesitation, a small smile on the loon’s beak as he looked up at his partner’s still uncertain expression. “You were rude, callous, ignorant, insensitive, clueless-”

“Alright, alright, I get it- I was a jerk.” There was a bit of red under the off-white feathers of the other bird’s cheeks, making his attempt at a scowl fall hopelessly flat.

A quiet laugh rumbled in the loon’s chest as he reached up towards the rooster’s face. “You’re still a jerk. But-” A single black feathered fingertip lightly touched the other man’s deadly prosthesis without a shred of fear and began lightly running back & forth along the metal, a wider smile coming over his own dark beak when the tension quickly left his partner’s body and the familiar trilling sound filled the alleyway. “-you’re a tolerable one.”

He might never say it out loud, but Dominic REALLY enjoyed touching Steelbeak’s namesake in such a tender way. The lack of natural keratin didn’t set off the usual discomfort he felt when making physical contact with another person. Plus the reactions it elicited from his partner- that instant relaxation, contentedly happy trilling, and blissful half-lidded smile- were always gratifying to see. He still wasn’t 100% sure how much Steelbeak could ACTUALLY feel from the light touch, but he certainly felt something, even if it was mostly psychological. Ultimately, it was an intimate gesture that both of them found enjoyment in.

Did Dominic play dirty and use it to his advantage sometimes when Steelbeak was in a bad mood, arguing with him too much, or flat-out refusing to talk to him? Yes- a minute or so of the gentle contact was enough to turn the chief officer into putty in his hands and make him far more agreeable and willing to go along with whatever Dominic asked of him.

Did Steelbeak realize it was happening? Definitely- he’d sometimes grumble out a muttered curse at how manipulative the darker bird was but he’d still smile through his cursing and do what his partner wanted.

Did he ever try to stop it? Surprisingly, no- even in the middle of an argument when he noticed those fingers heading towards his beak (sometimes Dominic was subtle about it, sometimes he was direct- either way, Steelbeak noticed the approaching hand eventually) he’d never once tried to move away or avoid the other’s touch, meaning whatever sort of enjoyment he got out of the contact far outweighed his usual pride and dislike of admitting defeat to the point that he’d submit to whatever the loon demanded of him just for a simple touch to his prosthesis.

“Hmmm…ya make a convincin’ argument, Dee.” Steelbeak gave a pleased sigh once Dominic’s fingers finally left his beak. He looked far less stressed than he had a moment ago, that blissful smile still on his face. “But..are ya REALLY sure I wasn’t as bad? I know I wasn’t exactly ‘Mr.Tolerant’ back then.” The tone of his voice made it clear that he wasn’t doubting the validity of Dominic’s earlier claim, he just wanted confirmation now that he wasn’t so worked up over it.

The loon rolled his eyes, but it was with a good-natured, fond smile on his face. “Yes, I’m sure.” Red eyes looked back up into the other’s dark ones, his tone conveying the sincerity and certainty of his words. “You were confused and uncomfortable because you were dealing with something that you weren’t familiar with, but, while you were rude, you weren’t hateful. Most of your problems were because you were in denial, not because you wanted me to ‘burn in hell’ and, take it from me, the ones who haven’t figured themselves out yet are MUCH better than the fire and brimstone zealots.” He gave the tip of the taller fowl’s beak a quick tap before heading back down the alleyway they arrived through, winking up at him with a more alluring smile. “Besides, you get a one-time pass for being more attractive than him.”

Within seconds he heard that particular laugh that he was growing more fond of every day accompanied by quick footsteps that soon drew even with his own. “Good t’ know this mug of mine’s still good for somethin’.”

The pair of fowls shared a smile and a quiet laugh as they made their way back towards the main streets, knowing that was probably the closest thing the taller man would give in terms of a “thank you”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Getting to a point where they could be picked up and brought back to HQ by their designated vehicle and driver meant once again navigating their way through the throngs of colorful animals and many booths of the festival, something the deadly duo had to be more careful about given the crowd’s growing numbers as the day progressed and Dominic’s aversion to them. To avoid any accidental contact, the pair of fowls did their best to stick to the sidewalks near the walls of the surrounding buildings or behind the stalls when possible. Thankfully, they’d made it through without incident-

“Hey! You two!”

“!!” Dominic and Steelbeak instantly stiffened at the call clearly directed at them. They both instinctively reached for their hidden guns but didn’t draw them just yet- the streets were too crowded and it wouldn’t be a good idea to cause a scene.

When the pair turned to see their potential enemy, however, they were surprised to see the small border collie that had been the victim of their target’s earlier aggression standing at her now right-side-up table. She waved to them with a bright smile on her face as her tail wagged happily behind her. “Was hopin’ you’d come this way!” Deciding for the moment that the dog wasn’t a threat (and even if she was, they could easily take her hand-to-hand if it came down to it), the fowls relaxed their previously tense stances and walked closer so they wouldn’t have to strain to hear the energetic young girl. “I wanted to thank you for helpin’ me out earlier. That guy was a real pain.”

“Don’t mention it, doll.” Steelbeak told the grateful collie with a quiet chuckle, clearly amused at the idea of being THANKED for such a thing (if she knew what they’d actually done and why they did it, she probably wouldn’t be thanking them).

“We just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Though he held back any sounds of his own, Dominic was equally amused by the situation. “There’s really no need to thank us.”

“Aw, come on, don’t talk like that- it’d eat me up if I didn’t repay you guys somehow! Here,” She grabbed a display box from the other side of the table and dragged it closer, showing off a wide and colorful array of different pins shaped like waving flags. “I know it’s not much, but take a couple in your colors!”

“Our colors?” The taller bird asked while looking down at the pins in confusion. “Ya mean the ones we like best or..?”

“No, I mean the colors for your pride flags.” The girl at the counter explained with a giggle. “Go ahead and help yourselves!”

Picking up the rainbow striped flag hard-enamel pin with a golden butterfly clutch on the back, Dominic examined it carefully to make sure there wasn’t anything dangerous hidden in or on the unassuming pin (tracking devices, mini explosives, microphones- they had to be careful in their line of work, after all). “These are very well made.” Finding nothing off about the small accessory, he pinned the colorful flag to his chest and contemplated grabbing the one for his other colors-

“Hey, stripes, I’m lost here.” His partner was still looking down at the pins curiously. “I thought the pride flag was supposed t’ be a rainbow? What’s with the rest??”

“You’re joking, right?” The quiet laugh that had started in the loon’s chest died the moment he actually looked at the rooster’s face. He saw no traces of sarcasm or teasing anywhere in Steelbeak’s eyes as he looked down at the colorful flags- only honest confusion and curiosity. “…You’re serious..” Dominic looked at the other bird in disbelief, feeling honestly bewildered by the whole thing. “You can’t REALLY be this clueless, can you?”

Dark eyes rolled slightly before looking back down at the shorter bird. “Hate t’ burst whatever bubble ya got ‘bout me, red eyes, but I didn’t exactly get a full education on this sorta thing with how I grew up.”

Oh..right…

With how clever the chief officer was, it often slipped Dominic’s mind that Steelbeak never received any sort of official education growing up. Everything the other man knew, he’d learned on his own or through experience later in life. Growing up alone on the streets, it stood to reason that he never received any reliable information on the subject, and it was highly unlikely that his initial training and education with F.O.W.L. included a comprehensive high school-level sex-ed course for the fifteen year old rookie.

“……” After deliberating on it all for a moment, Dominic looked back up at Steelbeak with a soft, understanding smile. “Would you like me to teach you?” After receiving a nod from his partner, he started his explanation by tapping the rainbow flag already pinned to his shirt. “The rainbow is the most well-known pride flag- it’s typically known for representing homosexuality. There are a few variants, as well as the lesbian flag for gay women.”

“That’s my flag.” The girl running the stand told them while happily pointing to the multi-striped flag pin that matched her colorful dress. “That’s the original version with all the pinks and reds, but there’s another version now with fewer shades of pink and red and a couple of orange stripes.”

Moving his fingers down to the rest of the pins in their box, Dominic pointed to the first one in the upper left corner. “This one with the magenta, lavender, and dark blue stripes is for bisexuality- it traditionally means being attracted to both men and women, but many people have expanded that definition over time to include other genders. Other variations have popped up as well, including pansexual-” A black feathered fingertip moved to the brightly colored pink, yellow, and blue striped flag nearby. “-which means attraction to all genders, and polysexual-” The finger moved to a darker pink, green, and blue striped flag. “-which means attraction to many different genders, but not necessarily all of them.”

“Hold it, back up a sec- ‘other genders’?” Steelbeak seemed fully invested in the loon’s explanation, giving him the same look he often used when the darker bird was laying out their strategy for a mission. “What does that mean?”

“Ah, right, we should probably cover that, too.” Dominic said quietly to himself before addressing Steelbeak again. “Aside from male and female, there are a variety of genders and labels in between the two.” He pointed to a pair of flags with light blue, light pink, and white stripes. “Transgender, for instance, is used for people who are assigned one gender at birth, but identify as a different one. Some of these people get surgery if possible to physically match what they view themselves as, but it’s different for each person. There’s also intersex-” He indicated a yellow flag with a purple circle in the middle. “-which is for people physically born as more than one gender, and agender-” His finger moved to a symmetrical flag with black, grey, and white stripes surrounding a single light green one in the middle. “-for people who don’t identify as any gender.” The next pins he pointed to were one that was a light purple, white, and green flag and another right next to it that was yellow, white, purple, and black. “Many of the others fall under the label of genderqueer or non-binary, meaning that they don’t exclusively identify as male or female; one of my ‘coworkers’ up north preferred using gender plural pronouns like ‘they’ and ‘them’.” The loon’s mind wandered for a brief moment- it had been a while since he’d spoken to Wildcard and the others, he hoped they were all doing alright…

“What about this one?” The taller man’s voice brought him out of his thoughts to see him pointing at a pin with pink, white, purple, black, and dark blue stripes.

A small smile reappeared on Dominic’s beak. It seemed Steelbeak was thoroughly absorbed in his lesson and genuinely wanted to learn more. “Oh, that’s gender-fluid- it’s for people whose gender and pronouns change frequently. Some of them also identify as bi- or tri-gender, meaning that they identify as more than one gender, but not everyone who’s bi- or tri-gender identifies as gender-fluid.”

“Wait…” Steelbeak looked back to his partner in surprise. “That’s a real thing?” When his answer was a nod of the loon’s head, he groaned and brought a large hand up to smack himself in the forehead. “Think I need t’ call up one of my ex-partner’s an’ apologize for bein’ such a jerk…”

“I’m guessing you didn’t use their pronouns correctly?” Dominic tried not to laugh at the guilt-ridden frown on the lighter fowl’s face, but it grew harder when an embarrassed flush became visible on his cheeks.

“I thought the guy was gay an’ just liked cross-dressin’ or somethin’! I mean, sure, he told me felt like a girl sometimes, but I didn’t think he MEANT it!” The rooster hid his face behind his hand, clearly trying to avoid the immensely amused look in his partner’s eyes. “Great, now I feel stupid..”

“You are not stupid.” There was a hint of a laugh in the loon’s voice and an amused smile on his face. “You’re just…uneducated.”

Oh, that annoyed glare he received when the other man removed his hand was truly priceless. “Wooooow, you always know just what t’ say, don’t ya?”

“I try.” The laugh that followed Dominic’s words was quiet, but it seemed to be enough to ease the glare in the other’s dark eyes until they were both snickering.

With his mood improved and a smile returned to his gleaming beak, Steelbeak looked back down at the pins and saw a particular color combination that caught his eye. “Hey, this one looks like you.” He looked back down at the darker bird’s sweater for emphasis.

“That’s because it’s my other flag.” Taking the small black, gray, white, and purple striped flag that he’d considered grabbing earlier, Dominic smiled as he pinned it to the other side of his chest. “This is the asexual flag: It’s for people like me who don’t really experience sexual attraction to others.”

Steelbeak gave his partner and the new pin on his chest a curious look. “So, what, they just don’t like sex or somethin’?”

“Not necessarily.” That was a pretty common question that Dominic was more than used to by now. “Being ace isn’t the same as being celibate or disliking sex. It means not being sexually attracted to other people, but it’s a fairly large umbrella that covers a wide variety of people: Some don’t have any interest in sex at all. Others like the way it feels, but don’t really get ‘turned on’ by any specific gender. There’s also demisexual-” He pointed down to a flag with similar colors to the ace flag, but with a white stripe on top, a purple one in the middle, and a gray one on the bottom with a black triangle on the left side of the flag. “-which is for people who can develop sexual attraction for someone they have a very strong emotional connection with.” Spotting a nearby pin with stripes in dark green, light green, white, gray, and black, he tapped the area near it to draw the rooster’s gaze. “Asexuality can also sometimes go hand-in-hand with aromanticism, but the two can also be separate cases. Similar to asexuals with sexual attraction, aromantics don’t typically experience romantic attraction. There’s even a demi version-” His finger moved to a flag that looked identical to the demisexual pin, but with a green stripe instead of a purple one. “-for people who usually only develop romantic attraction after they begin to feel a strong connection with another person.”

“Huh..guess the whole ace thing makes sense with you an’ your ‘quirk’.” Steelbeak was back to looking intrigued by all of this new information. “So, these flags can tell people what you’re not interested in, too?”

“Of course. Pride is about knowing who you are and not being ashamed for things like how you identify yourself or who you are or are not attracted to.” Feeling he had properly covered every pride flag in the box, red eyes looked back up at the lighter fowl inquisitively. “Any questions?”

“Nah, that was pretty thorough, Dee.” Off-white fingers reached down to the box of pins and picked out exactly the one that Dominic knew he would go for. “Least now I get why ya had me walkin’ around dressed like a fruity-cereal mascot.”

Dominic watched the other bird pin the bisexual pride flag to the right side of his chest with an amused smile and a shrug. “I figured it would be accurate.” Preparing to bid the girl behind the table farewell and continue on their way, the loon paused when he saw the lighter fowl reach back down to the box and grab one of the less colorful pins as well. “..Demiromantic? Really?” He asked with genuine curiosity at the other’s choice.

“Yeah. It’s just…I dunno..the way ya described it…it just felt like me, y’know?” Steelbeak looked down at the black, white, green, and gray pin held between his thumb and forefinger. “ ‘Love’ don’t exactly come easy t’ me. I could probably count the number of times a ‘relationship’ actually meant somethin’ t’ me on one hand an’ still have a finger or two left over.” Dark eyes glanced down at the aquatic fowl beside him, the corner of his mouth turned up in the slightest of smirks. “Present company included.”

“Noted.” The wink sent his way made Dominic smirk right back before his expression softened, watching how the previously playful gleam in those dark eyes faded into something else. Something almost…sad..

Looking down at his hands while pinning the demiromantic pride flag to the left side of his chest, Steelbeak kept an unreadable smile on his face but the look in his eyes contradicted his beak. “Started thinkin’ maybe that sorta thing just wasn’t for me..that maybe…I was too messed up for it or somethin’…” As he finished setting the pin in place, the expression on his face changed from its previous state of sad, indifferent neutrality to a small but far more genuine smile. “Knowin’ I’m not the only one like that..that it ain’t just me bein’ too cold……it’s..kinda nice..” He looked back down at Dominic, that same smile still on his face.

If Dominic ever made a list of things about his loud-mouthed, arrogant, cocky partner that made him fall for the over-confident egomaniac, that look would be within the top three. That soft, unguarded, completely open and sincere look in those dark gray eyes combined with that small smile which was so different from his usual smug grins and smirks that it was almost like looking at a completely different person- like he was seeing the man beneath the suave bravado and flashy showmanship. It never lasted long, but Dominic mentally filed away each and every moment he was treated to the sight to make sure he NEVER forgot that look.

“……” With a softer smile on his own dark beak, Dominic reached up to the pin on the left side of the rooster’s chest and carefully straightened it. “It suits you.” Red eyes met dark gray and the smile on both agents’ beaks grew a little more.

Not everything in life needed a label, but sometimes it was nice for a person to know they weren’t alone in how they viewed themselves or others. Having something as simple as a flag to show others a part of who they were could make a world of difference to a person. It showed them that there were others out there going through similar experiences and let them know that their differences were something to be proud of.

For all the issues that he’d had growing up, one positive takeaway that Dominic had from his youth was that he had a decent education and grew up in an environment where he was free to express his own romantic preferences. His mother knew he was gay before he’d ever even heard of the word and wasn’t surprised at all when he came out to her as a preteen. Thinking about it as they thanked the border collie for the free pins and continued their walk towards the extraction point, Dominic supposed he was at least a little lucky in that regard.

Despite how clever and outspoken he was, Steelbeak grew up without access to information that should have been common knowledge to many people and had no one he truly felt safe talking to about things deemed “outside the norm”. While that didn’t excuse his previous behavior towards Dominic (and others, given what he’d said about one of his former partners), it was easy to understand where his ignorance stemmed from. Now, at least, he was at a point where he was willing to learn…and had apparently decided that he was comfortable enough with his partner to admit he didn’t know something and ask for information.

For Steelbeak, Dominic decided, that was remarkable progress compared to how he was when they first started working together. He took a small measure of pride in being both a witness and a major part of what helped foster that growth and looked forward to seeing how his partner would continue to grow over the course of their partnership.

End Notes: This may have been unplanned, but it was fun to write ^.^ Sorry if I missed any flags, I was really just running through a mental check-list and did a quick double-check when I got home to make sure I got all of the colors correct ^^”

#darkwing duck #dwd #steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #not my oc #thefriendlyfour #pride #pride month #lgbtpride

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werewolfdays · 4 years

Note

Oooooo how about smile?

[ smile ] for your muse to smile at mine from across the room

(this one is some pre relationship pining because I couldn’t resist)

I was browsing through a book at the table, trying to look as casual as possible without fully letting my guard down like Jayde had taught me. The diner had a typical bustle that I was used to in a public place, so I cast my gaze over the crowd of customers every couple of minutes in case my eyes spotted something suspicious that my ears couldn’t pick up on. Everything looked clear to me, but that didn’t mean it was clear. Jayde had years of spotting the subtle signs of a threat under her belt. I was still learning, still worried that I would read some poor stranger wrong and go into panic mode too easily for no reason. Or not read into someone enough and make a fatal mistake.

Jayde trusted my judgement, at least for the handful of minutes she would be gone to secure us a room at the motel across the street from the diner and pitstop. I couldn’t help but think she was testing my skills, throwing me into the deep end to see how I would fare. If that were the case, I certainly didn’t want to let her down, so I remained vigilant and kept a wary gaze on all of the strangers that surrounded me.

Out of nowhere a man sat across from me at the table with a beaming grin that caused my muscles to tense. He looked to be in his late thirties, surprisingly kind looking face, and a trucker hat that had a vulgar phrase and a pinup girl on it. I sat up straighter and adjusted my glasses, preparing for the possible threat that he could be.

“You are too pretty to ignore.” He remarked, flashing his teeth, looking me up and down, and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, “Can I buy you a beer?”

I smiled politely and apologetically at the invitation, “Oh, sorry, I’m not really in the mood to drink.”

“How about a coffee?” The strange man inquired.

I eyed the steaming mug beside my book, “I don’t need another cup yet, but thank you.”

“That’s cool, I can wait.” He said with a shrug, “You like trucks? I have a brand new Ram fifteen-hundred pickup. Cherry red. Took a lot of hard work to earn her.”

I pursed my lips. It was very doubtful that this man was the type of threat that Jayde had taught me to keep an eye out for, but I still wasn’t sure about his presence. So I forced another polite smile and nodded. I didn’t know the first thing about trucks, but I could play along if it got him to move on quicker, “That sounds pretty cool.”

He perked up hopefully, “You think?”

“Yeah, sure.” I agreed, nodding encouragingly, “I don’t know a lot about trucks, but—”

The stranger cut me off eagerly, “Oh, I can tell you all about them. You have to start with the engine, you see…”

I resorted to smiling and nodding along as this man went into a rant that I knew I wouldn’t be able to interrupt even if I tried. The good news was he didn’t seem to care or notice that I was barely listening to a single word he was saying, only the fear that he might quiz me after dumping all this information kept me slightly engaged. I took the opportunity that his self absorbed ramblings offered me to glance around the diner again for potential threats. Or potential escape.

My eyeline tracked around the restaurant until they landed on the entrance in time to see Jayde enter the establishment. Relief washed over me, surely she would give me a proper excuse to get out of this conversation that had me trapped in a corner. Then her gaze landed on me. I watched her brows furrow in a concerned frown at the look on my face, and when she noticed the stranger at the table, I saw her jaw clench and her eyes burn. The intensity of that reaction puzzled me somewhat. Was she simply worried about him being a threat? Or was it something else?

Could she be… jealous?

I forced that ridiculous thought out of my head. When her eyes locked on mine again, I offered a warm smile to calm that murderous look on her face. I watched as Jayde’s expression slowly softened under my gaze until the corners of her mouth actually began to turn up too. Her smile, reluctant at first, but forming into a genuine and beautiful visage, made my cheeks grow hot in a sudden flush. My reaction only made her grin grow more, becoming even playful as I looked down briefly and tucked some hair behind my ear. She was enjoying my blush, I realized. The fluttering in my stomach turned thrilled.

Maybe it really was jealousy…

Just the possibility made my suspicions about Jayde maybe liking me the same way I liked her that much more plausible, and that was enough to make my cheeks flush even hotter while I held her gaze. I took my bottom lip between my teeth in thought at the prospect, but also to see her reaction. I wasn’t disappointed. Jayde’s face turned to the shade that I was feeling on my own, looking me up and down in a way that caused the heat in my cheeks to flare throughout my body.

The sound of a clearing throat suddenly yanked me out of this trance I was in with Jayde. My head snapped towards the sound, remembering I was in the middle of a conversation. I shook my head at myself and faced the man I had completely forgotten about. “I-I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was talking about the suspension on my truck…” He muttered, searching for whatever had captured my attention so completely.

By the time he got a bead on Jayde, she was already more than halfway over to us. The stranger tracked Jayde’s movement all the way to our table and she fixed him with a glare that almost scared me, so I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be on the receiving end of it. I noted how the strange man instinctively curled into himself a little. She came right over to me, only taking her eyes off the guy long enough to give me a curious once-over, and I was shocked when she placed a gentle hand on my arm. I was caught even more off guard when the thumb on that hand gave me a tender caress, soothing whatever unease I had.

“You okay?” She asked me in a calm tone.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine, Jay.”

“Anyway,” The man said hesitantly, though some bravado came back as he prepared to continue, “Why don’t I show you my truck? I can take you for a ride.” He gave me a smirk and a wink, wagging his eyebrows at me to make sure I understood his deeper meaning.

The disturbing mental image that entered my mind made my entire body internally recoil in disgust, but I still kept my voice as pleasant as possible, “No thank you.”

“Oh, come on.” He urged quietly, glancing at Jayde, then back at me as if to say, You really wanna stay with this one?

“Back off.” Jayde growled so low that I almost didn’t catch what she said.

My unwanted companion did though. He turned his head to scowl at Jayde and bark a retort, but she threw him such a hard look that it stopped him short. It wasn’t hard to see the wolf in her unwavering glare, in the way her jaw clenched and her lip twitched like she wanted to bare her teeth and snarl at him. Her eyes didn’t need to be glowing for me to understand that the animal under her skin wanted to sink its teeth into this man. And for what? For making me uncomfortable?

Maybe I should have been more displeased with her actions, but something told me that this man wouldn’t have given up so easily otherwise. I had to suppress a shudder at the thought of what he would have done if I flat out rejected him. No, I was grateful for Jayde’s intervention. Especially when I could still feel her thumb brush against me and the unnatural warmth of her palm seeping through my clothes graced my skin comfortingly.

With the look Jayde was giving him, the man must have decided I wasn’t worth the effort, because he simply swallowed hard and said, “Maybe next time then.” Before getting up and hastily making his way out of the diner.

I soon found that a part of me wished he hadn’t gone when I felt Jayde’s hand retreat from my arm. Was she really only touching me to protect me? The thought was slightly discouraging. It almost made me want to experiment, to test the hypothesis, but that motive didn’t seem like a good excuse.

Jayde sat across from me in the seat the stranger had been in and she grimaced for a second, probably at the scent left over from him. “You sure you’re okay? He didn’t touch you, did he?”

My head shook dismissively, “All he did was offer me a drink and ramble on about his truck.”

Her hand reached out across the table, almost like she was reaching for me, but it suddenly stopped halfway and pivoted to fiddle with the fork and knife wrapped in a napkin, “Good.”

“You weren’t really worried, were you?” I asked with a small smirk as I focused on the way her fingers removed the strip of paper holding the napkin together to start folding it.

“Of course I was.” She answered quickly.

Quickly enough that my eyes snapped up to meet hers. There was an unnamed intensity there in her midnight blue irises, one that told me she would have sent that stranger through the window if he had hurt me in any way. After a moment, Jayde must have realized how intense she was being. She blinked and returned her attention to the piece of paper she had been folding. An awkward silence fell between us, only disturbed by the other customers mingling in the diner, and I struggled to interpret the deeper meaning I had seen in her stare.

Finally, I mustered the courage to say something, “I appreciate it.”

To my pleasant surprise, I saw a hint of the smile she had given me a few minutes earlier come across her lips. It was a bit of a reserved expression, as if she was shy about it, but that didn’t make it any less thrilling to witness.

“I know I shouldn't…” Jayde started slowly while focusing on the paper, it had to be some form of origami, “But I worry about you a lot.”

“Why?” I asked, nervous that I was being more of a burden than I originally thought.

It took Jayde a prolonged moment to answer while she pondered her words carefully. Then she opened her mouth and spoke incredibly softly while she continued to fold a little paper creature in her hands, “You’re really important to me.”

My heart rate immediately picked up and my eyes started tracing the shape of her lips as if on instinct. I noticed too late that Jayde had looked back up at me when her smile deepened into a grin, and I glanced away so swiftly that there’s no way she didn’t catch it. There were only a small handful of seconds that I could take before I couldn’t stand not looking at her. Her stare was still firmly locked on mine when I directed my attention back to her. I had to say something with the way she was gazing at me.

“You’re really important to me too.” I uttered through a deep blush. I felt better when her expression mirrored mine.

The entire diner disappeared as we stared at each other for what felt like forever, but somehow wasn’t enough at the same time. Then Jayde held up a tiny paper crane that she made, handing it over to me. The tips of our fingers brushed together, causing heat to pool through my hand and up my arm, and I decided to let my touch linger for just a little longer than necessary before I fully accepted the crane. Jayde didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. My spirits were lifted once again.

I studied the little paper crane. It wasn’t perfectly done, some of its edges were uneven, but I still smiled at it. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

“My sister.” Jayde answered with pride, “Skye’s been crazy about origami since we were kids. She’s a lot better at it than I am, but she taught me how to fold a few things.”

“I like it.” I said before handing it back to her.

Jayde shook her head, “It’s yours.”

I laughed. The gift was small and could be considered insignificant, having been made out of a strip of paper meant to hold napkins and utensils together, but my chest flooded with warmth and I pocketed the tiny bird in my jacket pocket where I knew it would be safe. “Thanks, Jay.”

She took a moment to smile at me, then sit up and say, “So, you hungry?”

I nodded, after a long day on the road, some food sounded perfect. “Very much so.”

“I’ll go grab us some menus.”

I watched her go, feeling like just maybe things would end up the way I hoped they would.

#asks #anon #ocs #original characters #my ocs #hey finally found the time to finish this last prompt!#been house/dog sitting the last few days with some very excitable pups that dont let me pay attention to much of anything #plus im surrounded by smoke from all the fires in the bay area rn #and worrying about people i care about that have had to evacuate #and then trying to figure out what i can actually do for my bday tomorrow #its been.... a lot lmao #anyway enough of my bitching enjoy some gay ass nerds #Jayde #Nadya #My writing #Nadya pov

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quirkykayleetam · 4 years

Text

Broken Pieces Superhero AU

@ashintheairlikesnow and @whump-tr0pes joined their characters together in a beautiful Daniel Michealson/Honor Bound AU. It inspired me and @burtlederp to get in on the fun! So, here is what might happen if our beautiful Broken Pieces characters were transposed into her Superhero universe. We hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1: No One Suspects a Thing

The nine-year-old girl behind Jay on the plane had a Batter-Up Build-a-Bear. The likeness was uncanny. Despite the plush ears, the stuffed animal looked just like the down-to-earth superhero from her blonde ponytail and baseball uniform to the ball of elemental energy in her hand and the pink hint of bubble gum peeking from her mouth.

Jay remembered being surprised when he first met Batter-Up out of costume to hear her valley-girl accent instead of her perfectly cultured superhero voice, but she was confident and kind and showed him around when he started working tech for the League of Superheroes out of graduate school. It was one of the reasons they could never give her up, never reveal that her name was actually…

No. They couldn’t, wouldn’t even think it. Even if they were out of that horrible cell, they didn’t know who was watching, waiting in the shadows. Immediately, Jay put up all their trained psychic defenses. They counted their heartbeats, clearing their mind of anything and everything but their breaths and the steady, steady numbers.

“Race you!” a too-bright voice said, dropping into the seat beside Jay and sliding a ClearJet magazine into their lap.

Jay stared at Beth, the 38-year-old art history secretary who had somehow become his closest friend in the world. Didn’t she understand? He had to concentrate? He had to keep the villains out, keep them from knowing…

“Jay-bird, we are 36,000 miles in the air. There are no known supers, either hero or villain, who can fly AND read minds and you know what happened last time someone tried a ride-along at this speed and height.

“Meanwhile, airplane magazines are famous for having the most creative but easy crosswords in the world. We have exactly 5 hours and 32 minutes of time to spare and I have two copies while you have more writing implements than any person would ever need to see in their entire life.”

Okay, maybe that got Jay to smile just a little.

“I propose that we start solving at the same time, first one done gets to pick where we eat tonight.”

“We’re eating out?” Jay met Beth’s gaze with wide blue eyes and a slight tremble to their lips that Beth saw even as Jay tried to hide it. She threw up her hands in defeat.

“Fine! Winner gets to decide what we make for dinner tonight. Daniel has been ‘staking out’ the house which you know means that he’s stocked the pantry with everything your little heart could ever desire. I’m drawing the line at S’mores Poptarts for supper.”

“Not if I win,” Jay said, their pencil already scratching away at the airline paper, despite the tremors in the 26-year-old’s hands.

Beth was glad that they’d gotten Jay to stop pulling the sleeves of their long gray sweater over their scars and quavering fingers long enough to learn how to write again after their ordeal.

“Cheater!” she shot back, turning to her own crossword. The sooner they were in Qanniq, Alaska, away from those memories, and in whatever passed for the League’s version of protective custody, the better. She would certainly breathe easier, and she would bet that Jay would too.

Marcelo watched the small plane come sailing in, landing as smooth as it possibly could on the old airstrip and slowing quickly. It was the kind of airstrip that was more comparable to a gravel lot, but Ed, the pilot, was accustomed to it and knew how to land without kicking up too much debris or make the ride too bumpy. Before long, the plane was pulling up in front of the mayor, his wife, and the intimidating figure of the Rogue, who stood next to Marcelo.

"Welcome to the little town of Qinniq!" He spread his arms wide as the door to the plane opened, the ladder had been lowered, and its occupants were exiting.

Beth stepped out of the plane first. She tried to comb her hair into some semblance of civility, but soon gave up. She waited at the end of the stairs for Jay who, despite the warm weather, wore a worn green sweater. They pulled at the sleeves as they walked, their blue eyes taking everything in even as they defaulted to the ground.

The Rouge moved swiftly to Beth’s side. They were a tall Superhero, though few had heard of them. They lived their life shrouded in mystery, only really appearing in major events for serious team-ups when explosive personalities were involved. Marcelo figured that it fitted the super’s enigmatic apparel. They seemed to take Carmen Sandeigo as a fashion icon with tall red boots disappearing beneath a scarlet trench coat, thick red gloves and an expansive hat and scarf combination that completely hid their face from the public. The Rouge was old school, one of the few supers left to use a voice modulator so no one knew who they were, or even if they were male or female.

As Rogue approached the plane, both Beth and Jay noticeably relaxed.

“Who won the puzzle game?” the Rouge asked quietly, leaning down to brush a strand of hair away from Beth’s ear.

“Who do you think?”

“Poptarts it is!” they chortled and somehow Marcelo felt like he was intruding on something familial. Finally, the trio broke away from each other.

“May I introduce Marcelo, the mayor of our lovely new home and its closest League contact, as well as his wife, Cynthia.” the Rogue said. “They’ve been briefed on our circumstances and are here to help.”

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Marcelo smiled warmly, holding out his hand in greeting. "Welcome to our little town, we're happy to have you!"

"You came at a perfect time of year! Besides the mosquitoes, the weather doesn't get any better than this!" Cynthia smiled brightly, stepping around them to go help Ed, the pilot of the plane, take bags out of the plane's cargo hold.

“D...Don’t touch that!” Jay said suddenly, lurching to the side to clutch at a small black bag Cynthia was unloading. “I’m sorry. It’s just...important?”

"Oh, of course, my apologies," She dipped her head in acknowledgement, seemingly unperturbed.

“Thank you so much for everything: the red carpet welcome, your plane. Hell, just letting us come here when we’re a bit of a security risk!” Beth said. She stole a glance at Jay who was holding their bag close, rocking slightly, and counting under their breath. “I just hope you won’t be insulted if we make a bit of a break for it. We’re a little...fragile at the moment and could use some time settling into our new home.”

"Don't worry yourself at all about it, I understand your situation and it's no problem. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. You're welcome to use any of my cabins, my summer homes, whatever you'd like," Marcelo said warmly, opening the door of the large, black SUV for Beth and gesturing inside.

“You ready for those Poptarts, Jay-bird?” Beth whispered. Jay shook their head. They’d come here. They could do this. They took a deep breath and handed their case to Beth before approaching Marcelo.

“Thank you,” they said as steadily as they could, grasping the mayor’s hand and looking him squarely in the eye. I’ll be worth this, they thought silently. All the fuss and bother, I’ll be worth it, I will be. “I hope to see you again on a less...less stressful day.”

"Of course! Name the day, I'll make time for you." Marcelo nodded, his grip as firm as Jay's was weak. "It's an honor to have you three here, I hope you enjoy it as much as the rest of us."

Beth and Jay climbed carefully into the SUV as Ed finished loading their bags in the back and Rogue stepped into the driver’s seat. Marcelo watched them go before he got into his own vehicle, Cynthia getting in the passenger seat.

"Damn airstrip is garbage. Downright embarrassing, having people land on that glorified gravel road! How often do we use it? Would it be worth getting it repaved?" He glanced at Cynthia, who was typing something on her phone.

"Honey, I think you worry too much," she replied evenly, finishing her message and lowering her phone. "We ought to have them for dinner sometime."

"Dammit! I should have invited them to dinner tonight!" Marcelo frowned, slapping the steering wheel. "Guhhh I screwed it up, didn't I?"

"Again, I think you worry too much. Jay seemed rather agitated, and they both seemed very focused on them, so I don't think they suspected anything. You did fine, honey, don't worry." She scoffed, laying a hand on his, and he smiled sheepishly.

"You're right, as always." There was a brief silence, both thinking. "...I'll call them tomorrow, ask when would be best to have them over."

"Just give me a day's warning, I'd be happy to cook for them."

Meanwhile, a very different conversation transpired in the black SUV:

“You okay, Jay-bird?” Beth asked as the doors closed.

“My scars…” Jay said quietly. “Marcelo… I know he could feel them, on my hands I mean, but he didn’t...he didn’t say anything about it. He just treated me like a person.”

Jay looked at Beth and smiled.

“I think here is going to turn out okay.”

Tag List (I’m including those of you who enjoyed the original Broken Pieces story, but if you want to be taken off, please just let me know!): @stoic-whumpee, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall, @straight-to-the-pain, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @0idril0, @fallingstormphoenix, @whump-fantasies, @imagination1reality0, @whumpback-wail, @whump-tr0pes, @untilthepainstarts, @captivity-whump, @burtlederp, @redwingedwhump, @whumpiary, @captivity-whump, @blue-flare10

#Whump #Past Trauma #Scars #Superheros #Recovery #Guilt #Broken Pieces #Jay #Beth #Rogue #Daniel Wei #(You saw him right?)#Marcelo #Cynthia #Collab #Crosswords as a coping mechanism #Found Family #quirkykayleetam writes

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giannimaldonado · 4 years

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Album Of The Day: Satan Is Watching

When most people born after a certain period of time think of the genre that is “country”, and what it has morphed into in the context of this day and age, a lot of unpleasant images spring to mind. Pretty boy, clean cut, poser rednecks who’ve never seen a farm outside of their music videos, trying to pretend to be another “honest Joe” when they couldn’t be any further from such a thing, making trashy, twangy glam rock mixed with watered down trap music/EDM for white southerners who might have interesting views on those of different races, rolling around in million dollar sports cars while adopting the moniker of “working class”...is probably what your mind immediately begins to conjure up in that brain of yours.

I honestly can’t say that I blame you. Country, or, at least, MAINSTREAM country, has lost its way completely. Luke Bryan, Brad Paisley, Tim McGraw, and Blake Shelton polluted this once proud, grassroots, amazing genre with pandering, trite garbage aimed at making money off of dumb hicks in the bodies of frat boys whose trucks cost more than your own damn house. Gone are the days when country music was filled to the brim talent, creativity, passion, and heart. Now, this “jock country” has taken its place, having thoroughly fucked country up the ass a few too many times that it has lost its way. For good, perhaps.

Underground country’s usually no better. There’s some exceptions (we’ll get to those soon), but for the most part, it, too, has gone off the rails and destroyed itself completely. It’s often just indie folk or what have you with even more acoustic guitars, though perhaps with more twang, whiny vocals that are trying (and failing) to recreate a stereotypical southern accent, a reliance on cheap gimmicks, sarcasm, and irony to carry their trash because the excrement can’t do that itself, and a musical quality that tries SO hard to imitate the great Mr. Cash, but is little more than a cheap, pale imitation that folks who wear WAY too much flannel and wire rimmed glasses will eat up like it’s the second coming of Joy Division.

No matter how you look at it, country has been thoroughly gentrified for the most part, just like many genres that were previously for a much different variety of people. Like trap music, or blues, or hardcore punk, or black metal. All of the original meaning is gone, driven out by money hungry label executives, clueless and ignorant listeners, and musicians hellbent on half-assing their way to fame and fortune.

It’s a crying shame, it really is.

But fret not, dear reader! There is still a soft, seedy underbelly of the country genre that has taken the long dead (yet forever revered and loved) sound of “outlaw shit”, as Mr. Jennings would put it so eloquently, to its most logical extreme. One that would make Nelson, Cash, Haggard, Coe, and others that might’ve been at the top of their “underground”, “anti-mainstream” game seem rather...accessible. These aforementioned artists and their peers are still greats who, in their primes, were powerhouses that made some of the greatest works the genre would ever produce. But when compared to this particular sound...they just don’t hold up as well. The rawness, the grassroots nature, the down-to-Earth (and sometimes below the Earth) attitude, the simplicity, the honesty, the bluntness, the intimacy, the melancholy...all of it gets turned way up to eleven. It’s dark, it’s mischievous, it’s harsh, it’s gritty, it’s angry, it’s bitter, it’s darkly humorous, it’s lonesome, it’s ornery, and it’s damn sure pretty fucking mean.

Call it whatever you want. “Southern gothic”, “dark country”, “death country”, “gothic country”. It doesn’t matter what name you apply to it. All that matters is that it’s country. Real fucking country. Country meant for the guttersnipes, punks, street urchins, hobos, peasants, and forlorn drifters. This ain’t pretty boy music. This isn’t nice, Christian contemporary that you can play at your local uptight establishment. These aren’t harmless tunes your the posers can get drunk and go mudding to. This is country as it was meant to be. The eptiome of the term “outlaw shit”.

There’s a plethora of wonderful bands in this scene. Sons Of Perdition, Sixteen Horsepower, whatever project Jay Munly’s got going on this time around, The Dead South, the early days of The Devil Makes Three, The Builders And The Butchers, Wovenhand, Ghoultown, Coffinshakers, The Pine Box Boys, and, of course, everyone’s favorite descendant of the Williams family tree. The third one, that is.

But all of those fall short of that truly, truly, TRULY horrific honky-tonk, old-time, folksy, backwoods atmosphere that this duo produces. One that hails from the isolated, empty thickets that lie out in rural Wisconsin. A mentally disturbed pair of “prophets of the country doom”, as they have decided to label themselves. A fine example of those who have gone completely mad, completely sad, and doing so makes them feel very glad. They revel in their craziness, and while no album sounds the same, each one is marred by a couple of recurring themes: humanity is worthy of being sent straight to the fiery depths, these boys are depressed beyond your wildest comprehension, a rebellion against both God and Satan, and a desire to document the lifestyle of society’s forgotten ones, hated ones, and feared ones.

Let me introduce you to Those Poor Bastards.

Fitting name for a couple of enigmatic, largely unknown, extremely obscure pair of men known simply as Lonesome Wyatt (impassioned orations and guitar-based melodies) and The Minister (everything else).

The Minister is completely anonymous, with no one having even seen his face, while all that’s known about Lonesome Wyatt is that he’s from Wisconsin, (probably) lives alone, and is likely of an unsound state of mind.

Why is that all important? Well, go listen to their albums, and then you’ll find out why these little intricacies are vital to the dynamic duo’s imagery, music, and cult status.

While all of their material is quite good in my opinion, today we’re going to look at my favorite album from them, and possibly my favorite album from any country artists EVER! Everyone, please proceed to throw on “Satan Is Watching.”

What you’ll first be met with Lonesome Wyatt letting out a loud, wild, manic screech that almost doesn’t sound...human. It’s not even a word. Just an unhinged howl like Lonesome Wyatt’s been possessed by some sort of demon from the pits of Hell, having taken over the “doomsday preacher boy” to spread the wicked gospel. A hell of a start to an album of any kind, let alone a country album. It’s bold, but it lets you know right off the bat that they aren’t fucking around. This is going to be a rough ride from start to finish, and you’ll be left quaking in your seat once Those Poor Bastards has pierced your mind, heart, and soul with their fiendishly unholy sound. A truly nihilistic piece of art about how this world is foul and wretched, and deserves to burn to a cinder.

But that’s just the first song.

Things only manage to get worse from there. Everything from songs about how Lonesome Wyatt’s a degenerate who revels in just how much filth and squalor he lives in, to songs (well, more like suspiciously suicidal rants) about how life is fucked and there’s just no point in living it anymore, to various “take that!” pieces towards lovers who have wronged him in times that have long since passed, presumably. Typical topics for country artists, but contorted and warped to the point where they sound like miniature horror stories being yelled and hollered by a crazy, top-hat wearing yokel than the struggles and strife that are endured by the common man/downtrodden fellow. Hell, there’s even a Johnny Cash cover! A twisted, perverted, scummy, bone-chilling, haunting, eerie take on the previously wholesome, innocent love song The Man In Black made for June. I can’t exactly look at it the same way, what with these mysterious hooligans having thoroughly butchered it.

Instrumentation is minimalist and simple. Nothing too fancy or technical here. It’s quite self-explanatory. Despite how evil it is, the rhythms are still toe-tappingly catchy. The drums, being pounded upon by the fiery hands of The Minister, provide anything from a nice, plodding beat you can stomp your feet to, all the way to a rowdy raucous of a banger that’ll have you doing some sort of line dance with the living dead. Lonesome Wyatt beats upon his acoustic guitar like it owes him money. Not even really playing it. Just smashing the strings until weird, disgruntled, odd noises come out of it. He also seems to thoroughly shatter his ability to talk without a sore throat, pushing his voice to its very limits. The bass compliments everything very well, providing a creepy, fuzzy, dirge-like texture in the background to keep the menacing tone alive and well.

All in all, while this may not “experimental”, “avant-garde”, or even “progressive”, this is certainly an album that’ll give you the heebie-jeebies, and for a country album, it is most certainly “out there”. It takes the usual country tropes, and either turns them into something out of a David Lynch movie, or subverts/plays with them to fuck with the audience and make them contort their face with confusion...and excitement. A spooky bit of acoustic noise that’ll restore your faith in country music, and remind you that there is still a small resemblance of a spark left within the dying genre.

Please, I highly recommend you check this out.

This has been another installment of “Esoteric Warfare”, and remember...

NOISE, NOT MUSIC!

#gothic country #those poor bastards

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