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stusbunker · 10 days

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Spotless: En Cédant

Chapter Twenty Two

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee, Bobby, Sam, Annie, Kevin (mentioned)

Word Count: 2541

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, Aromantic Bela, more hints at bisexual Dean, unbeta'd

A/N: Dean's magazine interview is released and he asks a question he regrets.

Series Masterlist

Dean walked into the auditorium they’d been leasing for rehearsals with a gas station coffee and what John would have called a ‘piss-poor’ attitude. Sam had stayed over at Madison’s and gotten his own way to their last pre-tour play through. It was one of those rare mornings where their place felt too big, and Dean couldn’t kick the feeling that something was missing in his daily life. But it was too early for a pity party and too late to turn around and play hookey.

Not that he’d even dare that on this tour, not this close to showtime.

The energy in the hall did little to ease Dean’s annoyance, filled with quiet conspiring. Each person he nodded at seemed to be hiding a smirk or trying not to laugh out loud. Once he got to Lee, he’d had enough.

“Okay, what the fuck is with everybody today?”

Lee shook his head. “You don’t know, you poor bastard. Have you seen Trouble yet?”

“No— whyyyy?” Dean scanned the room littered with roadies and band members, lounging over the stage and the first rows of seats.

“Look, man, it’s easier to show you than tell you.” Lee reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rolled up magazine, which was not what he was expecting. His sources of embarrassment primarily spread online these days.

But then he looked down and saw his own smug face staring back at him.

“Holy shit,” Dean said in a whisper.

“She’s got like a whole box of these, everybody’s read it or is currently reading it. It’s almost like you’re famous or inspirational or some shit.”

“Some shit is more like it,” Dean muttered and flipped to the page number next to the tagline, ‘Phantom Traveler’s frontman Rides the Road to Redemption’.

“Hey! Get your own!” Lee snatched the magazine out of his hand before he could get past the shot of him in Baby’s driver’s seat, eyebrows furrowed in the side view mirror.

“You sonuvabitch,” Dean threatened and went to steal it back when Bobby appeared with his ruffled mustache of disapproval.

“Okay, Fabio, go find Trouble, she’s got a whole case of those you’re supposed to sign before we get started.”

Dean wiped his face with his palm and braced himself for a long ass day. “Okay, any idea where she is?”

“First dressing room,” Bobby replied. “Don’t take too long, we want to run through some old stuff with Kevin so Charlie can plan out some lightwork with it, then we need to talk setlists for this weekend.”

“Yeah, of course, uh, I’ll be right back,” Dean said, turning to head to the pit. He turned and added over his shoulder. “At least I hope so.”

It was worse than Dean thought, but somehow also better than he’d expected from Meg.

Sam sat backwards on an old makeup stool as he read the article out loud, “‘even his timeless good looks couldn’t save him from the storm of controversy he unleashed after punching out photographer, Jared Bender, alienating his keyboardist and lifelong friend, Cas Novak to the point of leaving the band, and forcing his manager and mentor, Bobby Singer, to cancel their last North American tour with two months left.’”

Sam made a visible ‘yikes’ face and continued on as you listened, moving stacks of magazines around into manageable piles along the counter.

“‘The man sitting across from me was neither the cocky dipshit I interviewed six years ago, nor was he the unstable egomaniac who caused those around him to walk on eggshells during their last tour. He was oddly zen, blunt as ever, and refreshingly humble.’---- Ha! Christ, did you pay her off?!”

Dean decided he’d heard enough and cleared his throat. You froze and turned, but Sam just grinned wolfishly at him through the old spotted mirror, completely unsorry about being caught.

“There you are! Hot off the presses, man.” Sam flipped the copy he was reading towards Dean, which he caught against his chest with his free hand.

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean grunted, splashing some of his coffee as he stopped the magazine from falling to the floor. “How bad is it?”

You chuckled. “It’s not— well, for starters, it’s the freakin’ cover! I was not— she was being purposely vague about the whole thing, even which issue it was going to be— I am kind of in shock still.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean stared at the cover, unsure if he dared read it with an audience. After the silence got too heavy, he buried his own sick curiosity and looked at you to keep busy. “So, Bobby said you’ve got work for me?”

Dean smiled too late, catching you entirely deflate from his terrible segue.

“Uh— yeah, it’s only 100 copies. We’re sending them out to bundle with tickets for radio stations in every city.”

Dean walked across the small room, set down his coffee beside Sam’s rumpled magazine, and picked up one of the metallic Sharpies you had left out. “You sure they want just me signing these?”

“Dude— none of us are in any of the pictures. And besides just verifying some details, she didn’t interview any of us.”

Dean spun on his heel. “She asked you if I was lying about stuff?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that— it was more of her trying to catch you in consistencies.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at how that was exactly what he had said.

Sam huffed and started rambling. “I mean it was about the tone of the album and the cohesiveness. It wasn’t bad, God, okay?!”

“You’re not really reassuring me here, Sammy.”

“Look, I’m gonna go set up.” Sam stood up. “But, we’ll talk it out once you’ve read it, okay? Just get these signed, so we can figure out everything upstairs. Maybe then Bobby doesn’t have an aneurysm.”

“We can only hope,” you tucked on, which took the words out of Dean’s mouth.

Dean nodded, sighed, and popped off the cap of the marker. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Sitting around haphazardly sprawled across the theater seats, the band and immediate support personnel plotted the first stretch of the tour. Dates were set, venues, everything important, but the minutia had to be finalized so everyone knew where to be and when.

“We’re doing in studio stops with stations here and Vegas. But we are doing phone in interviews with San Diego, Phoenix and Albuquerque. We’ll talk more, but I think we’ve got stuff lined up once we hit Texas,” you rattled off to the group, pen in hand, laptop on your lap and phone in hand.

Bobby had his day planner open on his lap and Annie added things into her phone as you went. Dean kept his calendar app open, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet. Once the tour got underway, things got easier with the practiced dance, but until then he was jittery and brooding.

He hated the build up, but knew it’d be over soon.

“Dean— we gotta talk later, figure out when Bela will need passes. That goes for everyone, please let me know who you’re bringing each night so I can submit the names to each venue.”

“How is that your job on top of everything else?” Bobby asked.

“You want to do it?” You countered, coyly.

Everyone laughed. Lee threw a balled up receipt at the back of Dean’s head, but he just flipped him off.

“Need to get you an assistant,” Bobby muttered, but Dean didn’t think it was a bad idea.

The meeting continued, plans for press stops and casual drop ins for the first leg were cemented with your approval. The band’s image meant everything to you, not just because it was your job, Dean knew it was a deep seated loyalty and faith in them, both as individuals and as a unit, a family. You worked harder for them than any mere publicist would.

And that genuineness came through to the fans.

Then that respect and admiration was reciprocated. Sure, there were ones who were closer to obsessed than others, but even Becky, the fanclub president, had cooled down over the years. Things might get awkward amongst the masses, but it wasn’t dangerous. And it had been awhile since anybody had asked for a lock of his hair during an autograph session.

He didn’t miss that.

Dean switched apps and snapped some quick shots of the group from where he sat, dazed and tired from the meeting, but still together and looking good. He typed a quick caption to the post: ‘Can’t wait to see y’all again soon, we’re back baby.’ He even remembered to tag the band’s account before posting. But he knew you’d go through and add hashtags and pin people’s accounts to their faces in each shot, eventually.

For now, he was just grateful that he was still doing what he loved with his people.

Not much later, Bobby called it and everybody agreed to meet at Elizabeth’s. After securing all the equipment and hugging Charlie goodbye, Dean helped you haul the boxes of magazines to Bobby’s truck to be mailed out later.

“You want to ride with us? Got that scheduling stuff to hammer out anyway,” Dean cleared his throat and nodded towards Baby on the far edge of the parking ramp.

“Uh, Sam left with Kevin, but yeah,” you said, looking over to Bobby and Annie. “See you guys there?”

“Sounds good,” Annie said.

“Drive safe,” Bobby warned and held the door open for his wife.

Dean felt weird with his empty hands and you bent over with your bag and your laptop case, but you seemed to manage. “How are you feeling about things? How long we got before shit explodes with that article?”

You hummed in estimation, “about nine hours? East Coast will get to it first so it’s gonna be another early day.”

“Brutal.”

“It will keep me busy, but it will be a good busy. I’m sure of it,” you promised.

Dean huffed. “If you say so.”

He unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for you, the familiar creak in the hinge the only sound in the cement tomb of the parking garage. But it didn’t feel creepy, it felt nice to be alone and out at night. With you.

He let you drag your stuff into the footwell and made sure not to get your sweater caught in the door as he closed it. He rounded the front bumper and got into his spot. “Alrighty, let’s go get stuck in traffic for an hour.”

You smiled at him, without looking up from swiping through your phone.

“You posted?!” you shrieked in surprise not five minutes later.

“With my own two thumbs and everything,” Dean teased back.

“They are loving this.--- Dean, it’s already got like over a thousand comments.”

Hey, he could do the internet charm, when he wanted to.

“What are they sayin’? They pumped to see us live?”

“Definitely! And then the usual: speculation on Lee and Pam, people begging you to father their children—” you laugh fondly, like at a child showing off a well known skill. “Kevin is starting to get a sort of following, and the younger crowd brings more enthusiasm. Plus, people are already speculating how long during each set before Sam loses his shirt.”

Dean cackled. “Sweaty bastard, even with all the box fans.”

He pulled them onto the freeway and wedged in where he could amongst the chaos, careful to leave breathing room for his girl.

“When you’re all done with that, we can talk Bela at the shows. I’m guessing you meant you want her backstage and easily seen from the audience and all that?”

“Pretty much, but also what works around what she’s doing. She can’t exactly tour with you guys, but we gotta make it look like she’s doing her damndest to.”

You spent a few minutes going through your notifications while Dean turned up the radio a bit to keep him occupied through the stop and go traffic. Must be a game somewhere, he thought passingly.

“So, uh—- how much longer do you think we gotta do this act? Seems like I’m looking pretty good these days in the eyes of the public. And if you’re sure Meg’s article will be good press—”

You put down your phone and turned on the bench seat to lean your arm along the back of it, putting Dean entirely in your focus. He swallowed and looked back at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Where’s this coming from? I thought it was working out good with Bela?” You were trying for neutral, he could feel it. But you were upset. Or alarmed at least.

“It is— just not really sustainable for the long run. Eventually she’s gonna find somebody she actually wants to date and I’m gonna be gone for like the next year.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Bela’s aromantic, Dean. She isn’t interested in relationships at all.”

“Wait— what? That’s a thing? Chicks do that?”

You glared at him. Shit.

He licked his lips and wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans. “Okay, but people probably know that, right?”

“Yeah, but people have a way of thinking that eventually she’s gonna meet the right person and ‘settle down’.”

Dean groaned. “Are we playing up a shitty stereotype? Am I being a bad ally?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, shut up. You didn’t know, which I find odd, but I’ll talk to Bela about that.---- And we’re not getting graded on your allyship, because frankly that is an entirely different conversation.”

Dean closed his eyes against the accusation but got back into driver mode quick enough to remain safe. He sighed.

“Anyway, I was just curious if there is a timeline or an escape clause or something when the label won’t cut off my nuts for being officially single again.”

You turned back to face the dashboard and picked your phone back up. “I cannot believe you can’t keep it in your pants for one tour, Dean. Groupies and fucking syphilis boosters cannot be that fun.”

Dean swerved, but righted the car.

“HEY! Nobody said anything about wanting to get my dick wet! I was just asking a question. You don’t gotta be shitty about it.”

Dean swallowed back his retort about not needing easy hook ups because Bela was more than on board for helping fill that particular outlet, but he had already dug himself into a hole tonight.

He inhaled and worked on calming himself down. He realized he was more hurt than anything, that that’s where your mind went for his reasoning.

That was how you saw him.

He wasn’t a dog, not anymore at least. And if he had been for the few years after Jo’s death, it was something he had to get himself through. He should not feel ashamed for enjoying life.

But apparently somewhere along the line you’d grown a superiority complex.

Your opinion shouldn’t matter. He only had to answer to himself at the end of the day. But shouldn’t didn’t equal doesn’t.

Which made him feel even more pathetic.

Tagging:

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Chapter 23: Furia

#spotless series #dean winchester x reader #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean x reader #dean angst #dean fluff

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samobservessonic · 3 months

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I can now say for sure that this is the final part of the biggest Sonic story in StC so far. Five parts is nothing to sniff at and everyone one has been an epic. This climax promises to go strong, with the threat of Metallix hanging over our heroes. Sonic learned at the end of the last issue that whatever he does in the past, it might not stop Metallix after all, yet still he has to take the Time Stone and go on blind faith alone

Anyone who’s played Sonic CD will be familiar with this mechanic. Although admittedly, I could rarely get it to work and have never managed to get the good ending myself lol…

Like in the game, after travelling back in time, Sonic needs to destroy these machines to create a good future. But there’s a few differences here for the sake of the story adaptation. The first being that the machine itself is growing into the Miracle Planet. I actually can’t remember if that was the case in the game or not, but it’s a cool addition either way and works with StC’s more brutal takes on the way Robotnik’s technology works. The second is that Sonic needs to go inside the machines to break them, which he can do by being shrunk down small. These two features had no connection to each other in the game, but I like that they’ve linked them here for a smoother story transition. And third…

…the machines are powered by the Time Stones, with removing them being what breaks the machine. It’s a neat way to work the Time Stones into the plot without including the special stages, which would’ve taken more time to establish Now that I think about it, the Time Stones replacing the star posts as Sonic’s method of travelling through time in the game is also good streamlining for the sake of the story

Also nixed from the story is the second machine you need to destroy, the Metal Sonic hologram, which in the game would make the small animals appear unafraid of Sonic once more. There’s really no need or extra time for that here, as Sonic warps back to face Metallix in the present day, just like he knows the past version of himself did before

Now Sonic is back here and after watching the scenes play out in the same way, we get to see what comes next. Except that he doesn’t know what’s coming next himself, as whatever he changed in the past hasn’t affected the future. But wait a moment…

…Oh come on, it wouldn’t be a dramatic reveal if the changes to the timeline happened instantly. With everything Robotnik built on the Miracle Planet (or infected it with?) now gone, no shrink ray means that Sonic is no longer small

Which also affects Metallix! Huh. I know Metallix comes back to StC in a big way (which again, mostly happened before my time), so I’m looking forward to seeing how that pans out. A lot more than our aromantic protagonist is looking forward to spending a month trapped with Amy, I reckon

And that wraps up our epic! I feel like I’ve said most of what I could already say to sum up while I was reading through - this story had the gravity that a Sonic CD adaptation deserved. It wasn’t afraid to change things up for the sake of adapting game mechanics into the comic more smoothly, but at the same time it really did show off a lot of what you could do in Sonic CD. It genuinely felt like this was a story written by someone who played and enjoyed Sonic CD and wanted to make a story out of it, as opposed to being a game tie-in that was mandated to be written

I suppose some could argue that the first two parts being about Captain Plunder could’ve been a separate story to the Sonic CD adaptation, but I am a Captain Plunder celebrater (which is a step up from being an apologist) and think that a big member of the StC rogues gallery deserved a big introduction, too

So yes, this feels like a big milestone in StC. We have two specials to cover before getting back to our next Sonic story in the main comic, but I’m sure that the momentum they’ve built up with this story arc will keep going after this short break Also, before I forget, I thought there was something to do with Porker Lewis on the Miracle Planet that happened in this arc, but either that happens in a different story or I'm just remembering it wrong. Just thought I'd say that, since I brought it up in one of the last issues

#sam observes sonic #sonic the comic #stc issue 28 #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #metal sonic

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morgenlich · 2 months

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had a big "oh, i really AM aromantic" moment yesterday lol, so we went to go see my sibling's show (they were stage manager), won't be naming it it doesn't matter. it was basically about "all the relationships that leave their marks on our lives, regardless of if the people stayed for a night or many years"

and every single relationship was romantic. there wasn't even like casual one night stand or anything, everything was romantic. and the show was very well done, it was like. it was good. but i was sitting there feeling....frankly, more alienated than i would for like a romance novel or movie.....

#alienation really is the right term too i was like #am i *supposed* to relate to this...?#everything is about being in love or having a crush or having mixed feelings about breaking up with someone or

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not-that-dillinger · 14 days

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hc + ❓ for a headcanon of the receiver's choice

Oh-ho boy... what have I not talked about yet?

Here's a few random ones:

He gets carpel tunnel syndrome often from spending so much time at the computer typing. His left wrist usually goes out first thanks to a childhood injury not healing properly.

Before realizing he was aromantic, he was in a polyamorous relationship with three other people and adopted his best friends's kid when she died.

Regarding our thread, and Rinzler's questions: I'm playing around with him having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. He is very familiar with what his limits are, and for the most part, he has it precariously managed, but it can go sideways easily. When I first started writing him, I kept referring to spoon theory a lot, but at first, I meant to keep whatever condition he had vague because I wasn't sure what he had. I think this fits.

He also stops talking when he's overwhelmed.

He likes black licorice, especially the salted variety, and marzipan, though its difficult to find the almond variety that isn't processed in the same place as peanut products. He usually keeps a jar of the stuff on his desk at work.

This one's thanks to a discussion with @evecolourshock. While in college, Ed did HEMA fencing, and was actually pretty good at it. That specific pathway was theatre -> stage fighting -> need to learn fencing for authenticy -> fencing AND Reenactment groups AND Kendo. He doesn't do them anymore because of wrist injuries.

#the void screams back #thanks for the ask!#sanitizedagent8 #edcanons

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thebearthatreads · 4 months

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Get to know my characters

Hi, I'm still here! If you've ever wanted to know what kinds of characters I write here's a brief rundown of the main characters from my novels and my current works in progress.

Willow – The protagonist of It’s All Magic to Me, Willow is a twenty-something balance family and friends along with university studies. Coming from a mixed-race background, predominantly Scottish and Malaysian with some other unmentioned nationalities thrown in, Willow is closely bonded with her family particularly to her grandfather who lives with them. Asexual and Aromantic, Willow has no interest in dating but adores spending time with her two best friends – Miri and Sam. At university she is most of the way through a Bachelor of Arts with a History major and is considering further study. Her hobbies involve nail art, she has over thirty shades of nail polish in her cupboard, and training her newfound magic abilities.

Sphynx – In lieu of a MMC, It’s All Magic to Me has Sphynx. Full name Synphineuous Abydian. A copper coloured Abyssinian cat whose been around for a few hundred years. He’d retired as a familiar up until he discovered Willow but was more than happy to pounce back into the role. Patient, kind, fiercely protective, and a little stubborn. Sphynx enjoys teaching magic and talking about his previous owners, he also loves sleeping in laundry hampers and hiding under the bed.

Millicent ‘Milly’- NPC energy, main character of Customerpocalypse. A bit of a pessimist, stuck working in customer service, Milly is a disillusioned twenty-something before the apocalypse hits. After the apocalypse Milly bounces between self-loathing and general boredom with how despite a world changing event, she’s wound up in a customer service position again. She does not appreciate her boss’ secret hiding places, the mutated creatures of the wasteland, or the general weird nonsensicalness of the survivortopolis. What she does like is rabbits, (Hunky) Crossbow Larry, and her weirdo friends/former co-workers.

Selby – One of the three MCs of the Venatores de Mythos trilogy. Hailing from Darwin, Australia, Selby comes from a mixed racial background but predominantly gives off white girl vibes. Eighteen and studying an undergraduate medical degree at Bond University when Book 1 starts. Upon joining the Venatores de Mythos organisation she is assigned to Team Excalibur. Selby has been practicing Muay Thai since she was a child and is a proficient fighter, she bonds quickly with her teammates and with Shahrazad and Roque (the other MCs).

Shahrazad – Lowkey my favourite of the Venatores de Mythos trilogy’s three MCs. Born in Marrakesh to a French father and Arab mother, Shahrazad is multilingual fluent in both her parents’ languages as well as English. Her family moved to New South Wales, Australia during her early teens. Twenty-two years old and studying Stage Management at NIDA, when book 1 starts Shahrazad is uncertain of the path her life is following searching for a sign. Eager to reembrace her French heritage, having had it completely shut off to her after her father’s death some years ago, Shahrazad wholeheartedly embraces joining the Venatores de Mythos. She’s also a lesbian and she gets a happy, positive, romance subplot throughout the series.

Roque – Venatores de Mythos trilogy’s MMC! Roque is a twenty-year-old, engineering student at the university of Buenos Aires when book 1 starts. Fascinated by machines, architecture, and history. Roque is extremely close with his family, constantly trying to find ways to support his mother and younger siblings. He takes the opportunity offered by the Venatores de Mythos in honour of his deceased uncle, and because it allows him to financial support his family. Over time he comes to consider Selby and Shahrazad as his second family.

Ginny – FMC for Chimera. Ginny is the Chimera in question, a witch with various mythical creatures interspersed in her genetic and cultural heritage. Twenty-something years old and in hiding from creature specialists who want to dissect her and her family, Ginny struggles with her newfound lack of freedom desperately longing to return to the time before the incident. Fiercely protective and loving towards her family, Ginny has the gift to see death omens.

Adrian – MMC for Chimera. An only child, Adrian is the adopted son of creature specialist Caspian. With innate magic, Adrian wants to learn how to control his power and become a fully recognised warlock or at the very least he’d like to have a little freedom in his life. Ever since he was a child he’s been under the constant watch of Charity, a ghoul contractually bound to his father’s service. If the only way to obtain a modicum of freedom is to prove to his father that he has what it takes to be a creature specialist then that’s what he’ll do.

#writeblr #writing community #my ocs #my characters #my writing

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jishyucks · 2 years

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one plus one ‣ hhj

‣ pairing: hyunjin x gender neutral!reader

‣ genre: fluff, meet-cute

‣ wc: 1.7k

‣ summary: In which you ask Hyunjin for his interpretation of a painting and his pretty brain leaves you wanting to see him again; alternatively where you're so absorbed by a painting that you were unaware that someone saw you as the work of art

‣ warnings?: none I don't thinkkkkkk, genuinely just fluff and cozy-type feelings

‣ an: idk why but this was fun to write even though I don't really like first meeting fics lmaoo (×_×;) but I hope it's a good short read for everyone!

There’s really no telling how long you’ve been staring at the painting.

Maybe it’s been seconds, minutes, hell, it may have been hours since you’ve crossed paths with the artwork and yet you still find yourself sitting directly in front of it with hopes of interpreting it in a way that satisfies you.

Although you couldn’t really grasp the interpretations running through your head, you’re able to take in the greater or lesser details of the painting. At first glance, the main object of the painting looked like nothing more than a blob—well, a blob with no better way to describe it. It did, indeed, look like a blob, but a multicoloured blob. Some may even say that it looked like a bunch of blobs swirling against each other to create shapes and images.

But the longer you look at it, the more you can make out that the artist had painted two individuals embracing each other rather closely. It was only difficult to distinguish because the setting of the painting was dark. A majority of it was painted in shades of black—if that was even possible—like you were watching the scene happen inside of a dark room and your eyes did not have enough light to generate colours for your brain to process.

A small portion of the painting held colour—the area behind the two lovers. You can confidently say that it was a partially covered window, the curtain being a blue-teal colour. Compared to the inside of the so-called room that the individuals were in, it was bright outside. You guess this could be part of the interpretation, but you wanted to take everything in before you start analyzing it.

The last detail that you felt made the story was the way that the two lovers are practically melting into one. Their faces are indistinguishable, making it hard to make out where they meet. You could guess it was somewhere in the middle, but you could be wrong.

The interaction between the two, described in one word, was passionate. Somebody looking at the picture could say that they were very much in love. The only problem now was what type of love it was. What type of relationship did they hold for such passion to be held between them? Why were they in such a dark space, almost hidden from the bright world outside?

You can guess that the minds of an optimist and a pessimist would work differently. A romantic and aromantic. Maybe even simply what stage of life a person was present in. And despite the many ways that a human’s mind worked to create these stories, you really really wanted a satisfying interpretation.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice whispered beside you. Though you weren’t startled, you were still questioning how someone had managed to approach you without your knowledge. Maybe you were that immersed in the painting.

“I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out its meaning,” you laugh quietly. You turn your head, eyes meeting those of a guy your age. What catches your attention first is his hair that hugs the nape of his neck. He’s wearing glasses that are big enough for the bottoms to kiss his cheeks and his lips were very pink. Yes, it sounded weird to be noticing some stranger's lips at first glance, but his lips really were pink.

“I know,” he says without hesitation. He snorts a little bit before he holds his hands up, “Not to sound creepy or anything. I just have been here for a bit too and just noticed you here.” His eyes dart away in slight embarrassment but they look back to you again.

“Valid,” you nod, “What do you think about this?” You jut your chin out to point to the painting sitting in front of the two of you, “I wanna hear it.”

He hums, leans forward and reads the small plaque pasted on the wall beside it, “The Kiss… Edvard Munch.” He leans back to his original position and looks up at the painting.

As odd as it sounds, you watch him as his face moves in a way that reveals to you that he was thinking. You watch his eyes scan the artwork just like yours did when you first saw it. But something about how he looked at it gave away that he’s seen it before. His brows furrow together as he presses his lips together, diving deeper into concentration.

Just by the way he’s analyzing the painting, you can tell that this man loves art. Whether it be for leisure or whatever the opposite of leisure was (work?), you can easily make out that art was a big part of his life.

You think you asked the right person.

“I’ve heard a lot of people interpret the painting negatively,” he begins, “that they’re losing their individuality because of love. That they, alone as themselves, won’t exist because of love and it gives love a bad rep.”

You nod along to what he’s saying before looking back up at the painting. You can see why people interpret it like that. It’s probably the darkness and the obvious fact that you really can’t see the faces of the two lovers separately. But you didn’t like that interpretation.

“Then there are others who make up an entire Romeo and Juliet type story.” He shifts in his seat and continues, “That we’re looking straight into a scene where the two are hiding because of forbidden love.

“I can’t really cover all the interpretations I’ve heard, but most of them were very… pessimistic?” He tilts his head, “But then again, Munch never got married so I guess that’s why people always thought he was miserable.”

“I wanted to hear what you thought of it.” You say. Sure it was interesting how many others analyzed the work of art. You wondered if there were any good interpretations to it. There obviously would be, but you’d understand why there were so many negative ones. The painting was covered in rough, dark strokes.

But you know what they say… in darkness, there’s light.

“Me?” He huffs, “I have the most mediocre understanding of this painting and I don’t think you would want to hear it.”

“Try me,” you push. You’re curious. Even if the way he made sense of the piece was average, it was still worth hearing.

“Well…” he bounces the heels of his feet against the ground beneath the two of you, “I see it as love that’s private but not secret.” He lifts his arm to point at the open window, “The window’s open just enough for people to see in but it’s not open all the way and they’re not exposed. There’s still some light bleeding through the curtain, but again it isn’t all the way transparent.

“They’re still very comfortable enough to be embracing each other to the world's end, to the point where they’re melting together to, in a way, become one, but not completely. You can still make out that they’re two different people, but their love unites them.

“And I guess… my interpretation’s something like that.”

You gawk at him, “I don’t understand why you thought that that was mediocre. I actually… really like your interpretation.”

“Really?” His brows raise, “Thank you.”

You both sit in silence, hearing the hushed whispers of other visitors in the museum. The atmosphere’s comfy despite you speaking and sitting next to a random man who you don’t even know the name of.

“Did you come here alone?” He speaks up.

You nodded, “If I came here with someone then I wouldn’t be able to sit and observe a single painting.” Turning back to the painting, “And I don’t think my friends would really enjoy going to a museum.” He nods but you don’t see. “How ‘bout you?”

“I came here with two friends,” he retorts, “But I lost them somewhere along the way.” You exchange quiet giggles.

There’s a part of you that’s wishing to ask for his name. The question’s at the tip of your tongue, but you’re not quite sure whether you actually should ask for his name, only because you’re also not even sure that you’ll see him again. There’s also the fact that he seems too perfect—simply judging by how he presents himself.

A notification on your phone turns your screen on, finally giving you a proper look at the time.

“Oh shit,” you cuss and stand up abruptly, “It’s almost seven?” You knew you'd been there for a long time, but not that long. Time’s gotten ahead of you. You’ve been at the museum for five hours.

“Seems like it,” he nods and pushes himself to his feet, “Do you… have to go?”

You nodded, “I’ve got dinner plans.” Then you blurt, “With my mom. Dinner plans with my mom.” Why you had the urge to let him know that is beyond you, but a feeling in your stomach leaves you satisfied.

“That sounds nice,” he grins, “I probably have to go look for my friends.”

For a moment, you both just stand there in silence. He’s mustering up something to say, you can tell by the way his eyes search the floor and how his lips slightly open and close, words hanging by a thin string.

“My name is–“

“Hyunjinie!”

He’s interrupted by someone entering the gallery. Despite the person having only exclaimed the name, their voice bounded against the walls of the large gallery, the name carrying easily through the air.

The head of the boy in front of you turns in response to the call, “Hannie!” He calls back before holding up a finger to his lips.

“So? No one’s here!” Then he begins waving him over, eyes wide like a young child’s, “Come here! Felix found something you’ll like!”

“I’ll just follow!” Then he turns back to you, eyes sparkling, “As I was saying… My name is–“

“Hyunjinie,” you tease subtly, “I heard.” You hold your hand out and watch as he takes it to shake. You’re relieved that he made the very move you were contemplating on doing, cause that means he wants to see you again, too.

“My name is Y/N.”

°•. ✿ .•°

an: after reading this I hope you know what one plus one equalsヽ(>_<ヽ)

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #my skz writings #my writings

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alastors-radioshow · 1 year

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//Okay, so I thought I wanted to share a little headcanon about Al and relationships, because... He’s been pretty active when it comes to that lately. Falling for two muses fairly quickly, and finally moving to the stage of actually having a relationship with a few others.

So, as we all know, Al is pretty much asexual. He’s not interested. People usually see him as aromantic as well, because he doesn’t find interest in relationships.

Unless it’s the right person. Someone he clicks with, who’ll look at him and actually spend time getting to know him. Most people avoid him, and he’s so used to that, so when people actually engage him in conversation, looks him in the eyes? He’s intrigued.

And once you manage to break down the emotional barriers he keeps up, you’ll find that he’s extremely committed and loyal. He’ll only have eyes for the one who captures his heart. And towards that, one person? He’s very different than what everyone else sees.

He’ll be gentle. He’ll be caring. He’ll protect you at all costs. When you break through to him, you’ll find him to be a hopeless romantic, once he gets the hang of it.

Needless to say, that person will be his first in all regards. Because he’s simply never wanted any of it.

Until meeting that, one person.

#::Headcanon::#::Relationship Headcanon::#alastors-radioshow #::About the Muse::#::Facts about the Muse::#::I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire:: - Shipping

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pr1nc30fc4t5 · 2 years

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Name: not given one

Nickname/Known as: 100

Eventual Alias: Roselia Ballard

Face Claim: Rachael Hurd-Wood (younger)

Age: 9

Birth date: January 1st

Pronouns: she/her

AGAB: female

Species: human (?)

Sexuality: aromantic asexual

Fandom: Stranger Things (but an AU and in the past, when Henry's plan had not yet been set into motion)

Powers: Telekinesis, teleportation, telepathy, mind control, causing hallucinations and illusions, emotional manipulation, portal creation

Personality: Roselia, better known as 100, has an almost animalistic demeanor. She's skittish and quiet, yet constantly ready to pounce. A true predator, through and through, 100 eats when she is hungry and is not above killing people to feed herself(if it's necessary). She's also very smart and careful, plotting whilst managing to lay low and remain inconspicuous.

Canon or OC: OC

Backstory: Roselia has no memory of a life outside of Hawkins Lab. She was told she was taken in at age 2, before she could fully develop any memory at all. Dr. Brenner was especially excited about this experiment, so much so that he skipped other numbers to mark her down as 100. That was the number he wanted the experiment to end with. 100 patients, 100 tests. However, once he heard of the strength of her powers, he thought that she had to be the answer. The successor. The most powerful of the experiments. However, he wanted to keep her a secret to everyone besides certain employees and himself. He built a special "room" for her underneath Hawkins National Laboratory, although it was more of a vault than anything. Built so she - hopefully - wouldn't be able to break out. When she first arrived, Roselia was monitored around-the-clock by the highest-trained team of scientific professionals. Over the years, as she and her power grew, she became unstable. She realized what the place was, and immediately became hostile, causing those who observed her to go insane with the visions and commands she'd place in their minds. Eventually, less and less people started showing up for work. With her compulsion abilities, she'd tell them to go home and kill themselves, kill other people, or commit other dastardly acts of violence. At some point, the only person left on watch for her was Dr. Brenner. He had seen what was happening, but made no efforts to stop it. He'd have another thousand employees die if it meant this newest superweapon got enough practice. But eventually even he began to fear her and her powers, as she, day by day, drove him a little more insane and out of his mind. Thus, within weeks, everyone had abandoned her, leaving her to rot alone in the prison cell they'd built her. Or, so they thought. Days after Brenner had given up on her, one of the children was found dead in their room. All that remained of them were bones and a brain, and it seems that they'd been devoured by something. Nobody could tell what had done it...or perhaps they just didn't want to believe it was who they thought it was. These types of murders persisted day by day, until 100 grew strong enough to stage her escape. She did such by tearing the entire laboratory apart, slaughtering everyone left alive. Everyone, that is, besides two lucky individuals. These individuals being Eleven and Henry Creel. She believed that they could help her, that they'd understand her. 100 sought justice, for her and for others. Immediately did Henry take interest in her, and realize how like-minded the two were. With Eleven and Henry, Roselia fled, and they began their own lives together. They were slowly but surely changing the world to how they wanted, but doing so undercover. Henry adopted Jane and Roselia Ballard under his alias, and that's where Roselia got her name, not having had one previously. Eventually, Jane devolved a strong sense of morality, and fought back against Henry and Roselia's attempts. Roselia ended up slaughtering her in the end, leaving just her and Henry left. Henry, while somewhat devastated, admired her predator-like course of action. She saw an obstacle, and removed it without hesitation.

Allies: Henry Creel

Enemies: Dr. Brenner, Eleven (later)

#oc form #oc #oc info #original character #roselia ballard

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polandspringz · 1 year

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If anyone cares about my Anime Awards votes here’s the messiest description of what I voted for so far (did not vote for film and eng VA yet; need to watch deer king this weekend + need to listen to the voice acting performances). And this was just copy pasted from a notepad so excuse the mess again:

aoty- spy x family; brought more ppl into anime + prompted most discussion

original- lycoris; out of the choices this is like, the only one deserving

charater design- ranking of kings; i try to avoid adaptions bc the character designs are just being translated BUT this is kind of a mp100 situation with how they adapted the character designs from the original art + the unique storybook style for the coloring of the characters

animation- ranking of kings; Not only did it have great action animation, they animated the sign language AND it was done by animators who WERE hard of hearing/deaf.

new series- Ya Boy Kongming!; This show was incredible, I'm so sorry but it was.

continuing- One Piece; The animation quality for the recent arc has been spectacular and so it has IMPROVED especially in the episode 1015 from this year.

opening- ranking of kings opening 2; JUST WATCH THE OPENING AND YOU UNDERSTAND. They got that 18 year old Vercreek on that shit I still can't believe they can do that level of animation at that age JESUS.

ending- Kaguya-sama; Listen I hated Kaguya sama and refused to watch it and then this ending happened and I was so hyperfixated on it that I binged the entire series and the emotions shown in the ending + the symbolism/them combining the myth of princess kaguya with a star wars esque fight was so cool

best score- Ya Boy Kongming; This is hard because it's like score so... instrumental? But Kongming was like a music anime with vocals and the rap battle fight was so good but also it had a lot of original songs.

Song- new genesis; Listen, Ado hit those notes

director- Spy x Family; BECAUSE THIS MAN SINGLE HANDEDLY SAVING CLOVERWORKS AFTER THE WONDER EGG DISASTER AND ALSO AT WIT NAVIGATING THEIR OWN CRUMBLING FINANCIAL SITUATION!!! Plus they did deviate from the manga at times and go above and beyond (see the castle episode)

Main chara- Bojji; You have a child prince who is deaf and everyone thinks they can talk shit about him in FRONT of him because they think he doesn't know what theyre saying but he CAN read lips and he defies death + saves his entire kingdom despite his lack of physical strength and learns to overcome many things and isn't "fixed" ever need I say more

Supporting- Kage from Ranking of Kings; ties into the above

Must protect- Kotaro; Anya can handle HERSELF. Kotaro literally was neglected and ate LEAVES he was starving so badly and has been forced to learn how to be independent despite being liek SIX YEARS OLD ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

action- Spy x Family; I didn't give them the animation vote so they're getting this since they excelled in action animation.

Comedy- Ya Boy Kongming; This is the only isekai that matters you've got a chinese war tactician reincarnated into present day and he just becomes a rising singer's manager and he does a fucking rap battle need I say more.

Drama- dance dance danseur; SO TORN because the ending of eighty six was so good for the episodes that DID come out in 2022 but its more Historic Drama? Fantasy Drama? Idk its a fictional war but Dance Dance Danseur deserves recognition too and Jumpei's journey and the conflict between him and the other two protags is staged like a ballet's story etc. etc.

Fantasy- ranking of kings; see everything ive already said

romance- call of the night; This series takes a really unique look on romance by basically having someone who is aromantic trying to fall in love with an asexual, romance repulsed vampire because to become a vampire you need to fall in love with one. And it explores the feelings (although it never outright uses the terms) of being ace well imo.

japanese va- Yor

#poland's thoughts #anime

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ghost-rullx · 2 years

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Sherlock in a love relationship.

Pairing: Sherlock x GN!Reader.

Word count: 655 words.

Warnings: Sherlock being Sherlock lol.

Honestly, I'm not sure how you managed to get Sherlock Holmes's attention. There are two options here, either you are someone who works for them (John and Sherlock) as a domestic servant, or you work at Scotland Yard (personally, I see more likely the second option, so we’ll work with this one).

Sherlock, as we all know, is not good at handling feelings. He may recognize them, but he doesn't care at all, or he decides to take advantage of them. For this reason, you should take your precautions and not act like a lover who would do anything for him, so he doesn’t try to take advantage of it at some point.

After a while, and if you are not irritating or senseless ignorant, Sherlock may come to consider you a friend, of course, you should strive to reach this level, I highly recommend making friends with John first and then try to relate to Sherlock.

I think that a good friendly relationship with John is the beginning of everything, Sherlock cares about his friend's opinion and he thinks that if John considers you interesting enough there must be a reason.

I have the headcanon that the detective doesn't care about gender or appearance at all (he’s pansexual or aromantic, but let's assume he's pansexual) so don't worry about that! Just enrich your mind so you can get Sherlock's attention, he's very picky about that.

Visit John at home! I'm sure that even if Holmes gets upset at first, he'll get used to it, and, at some point, he’ll be less of a jerk to you.

Relationship stage.

Let's imagine that you managed to capture the detective's heart. Congratulations!! You've already cleared level 1. That's right, being in a relationship with our favorite sociopath won't be all rosy. Quite the contrary, but let's start with the good things.

Sherlock will protect you with his life if necessary. Okay, maybe that is not totally good, but you’ll have a devoted man willing to do the impossible for you, of course, don’t ask for trivial things like going for chocolate because he WILL NOT DO IT. He probably sent you for it haha.

He’s a very serious and confident man with what he wants. It’s required to have a constant dialogue and communication in the relationship, we don’t want this to become a "toxic" relationship or that your relationship becomes a routine, Sherlock doesn’t like routines, he hates being in something predictable and boring.

Sherlock is a passionate person in his work, so I’m sure that he will also be passionate about the relationship but, of course, he doesn’t show it in a conventional way, and sometimes it can be overwhelming.

Try to get involved in his cases or try to help with something! I think that the detective would lose interest completely if you are not someone who can keep up with him in any way, don’t be left behind!

As I said before and I must emphasize, communication is extremely important in the relationship, although Sherlock can read you easily, I doubt that you can decipher what goes through the detective's mind, for this reason, you should try to talk about your concerns, ask about his, his wishes, his goals, anything; even though Holmes doesn’t answer or decides not to inquire much about it, he appreciates the concern and thus you will show that you care for him and your relationship, you will show commitment.

Although it may not seem like it sometimes, if Sherlock is in a relationship with you, it’s because he cares about you and you are worthy enough, don't doubt his love for you!

In conclusion, you will have a very protective and passionate boyfriend. Usually, you will need to have a lot of patience and responsibility, but I’m sure it'll all be worth it!

#sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #sherlock headcanon #sherlock holmes x reader #gn reader #gn!reader

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bitchfitch · 3 years

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like, my Genre is gothic romance, i adore this shit, i Adore romance and pretty much exclusively read and write romance.

but im completely aromantic, so theres always this Disconnect whenever an author is describing the inexplicable draw of ~love~ or whenever i get a criticism about it feeling like the characters should have already fallen head over heels in love with each other bc they spent 2 consecutive hours together or fucked a few times,

like i know thats how it works for most people, that the early stages of love are a quick and heady infatuation, but its just So Awkward. it feels wrong to observe or write bc like, i just can not imagine that being anything other than terrifying.

like i get arousal and lust, thats a natural and tangible physical reaction thats easy to ignore or take care of without the subject ever knowing.

but love just sounds Horrible. It sounds like fear, your gut tightening and your heart pounding, your thoughts tangling up as you get a little sweaty from the cause of this ailment looking at you. And theres no escaping it, theres no running, it clings to the inside of your ribs and prods at your heart when your thoughts stray the wrong way. If your lucky, youre able to face the one causing this, and then spend days or weeks or months or years, or an entire lifetime with them until they break you or you break them.

Then you do it All over again with someone else if you ever manage to recover from the last one. the same cycle with the same rythm and knowledge of the fact that it either ends in a pain thats almost entirely imagined but that you Feel in your very heart and that has a decent chance of itself being lethal or your death comes early and saves you by inflicting that pain on the one who was given this same affliction by You.

and thats love! that's Just how it is! thats what so many define our species by, and its Horrifying.

#horror and romance are called sisters for a reason #also press f to pay respects to all my lost fwbs who wanted what i couldn't give.

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

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stars in the sk(eyes)

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, background Intrualiceit Warnings: Language, food, like 1 line that’s maybe suggestive but also said half-jokingly Word count: 5592

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Logan has always loved stars. Virgil has always loved music. Maybe they can put those together with a little help from some friends.

Notes: Day 2 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. Patton, Janus, and Remus are all nonbinary folks who use he/they pronouns and masculine terms in this universe (but in the flashback scene, Janus is only using they/them); Roman, Logan, and Virgil are all men who use he/him. (I know absolutely nothing about music or concerts or anything, so please don't roast me too hard for any inaccuracies, lol.)

They were only opening the concert; the real attraction was a band from out of town with a midsize following, making a stop on their tour. Not that Virgil was complaining to have landed this gig. It would be the biggest performance his band—the band he, Janus, and the twins had formed a few years ago—had given, by a lot. And that was exciting. Sure, Virgil had absolutely spent hours stressing over how big it was, but he knew how to manage his anxiety, especially when it came to performances, and the anxiety didn’t stop the excitement.

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” Logan had told him earlier that day as he’d been getting dressed, passing his fingerless leather gloves and then holding his jacket for him to slide into. He’d spoken it with a simple, unassuming confidence, as if it were a given fact. It had been more comforting than Virgil thought Logan knew.

With the memory of his husband’s words carefully nestled against his heart, and the jacket Logan had helped him paint rainbow stripes on sitting on his shoulders, Virgil found it easier to let go of the anxiety. Some lingering tension remained as he paced backstage, running through lyrics in his head and triple checking that everyone knew the schedule, but it wasn’t as bad as usual. Most of it, if he was being honest with himself, wasn’t even about the performance—it was about the surprise the band had put together, the surprise Virgil had had to bite his tongue a couple of times to keep himself from thoughtlessly mentioning it to Logan, even though the surprise had been almost entirely his own idea and the others were just helping. But he’d successfully kept the secret, and now Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and there would be no more chances to spoil it.

But Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and the final round of jitters was setting in. And when Logan wasn’t there, Virgil’s jitters took the form of pestering the hell out of everyone in the room, to make sure everything was perfect.

He checked all the instruments, giving Janus’s keyboard a once-over without touching because he knew better by this point. Remus’s drumset was already on the stage—he was drumming with his fingers on the end of the fallout table in the corner—so there was nothing to do about that. Roman was actively tuning his guitar, so Virgil left that alone too and instead checked his bass, just in case it had gotten out of tune in the last thirty seconds.

All of the instruments were fine, great, even, and Remus and Roman were undeniably being productive; Janus, who’d been on their phone in the corner, had stepped out for just a moment, probably to get a drink of water or something.

Things were in order. Which was good. Great, even. But it gave Virgil nothing to do with his restless energy.

“Are we ready?” he asked, jiggling his leg and tracing the pattern of his fishnet tights through one of the large rips in his jeans.

Roman looked up. “Yes,” he said shortly. Roman’s nerves tended to take the form of a very short temper, which didn’t mix well with Virgil’s perfectionism.

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, running a hand through his dark green curls and straightening his denim jacket.

“We all know the order things go in?” Virgil followed up after a minute of tense silence.

“Mmhm,” Remus said easily. Remus, and Remus alone, somehow always managed to remain at ease and unbothered no matter what. Virgil didn’t know how they did it.

Virgil took stock of everyone’s outfits. He himself was wearing fishnet leggings that went all the way up past his waist. Over them he had ripped black skinny jean, and a black crop top splattered with white paint. On top of that, he wore his black denim jacket, which matched the ones the other three were wearing. Virgil’s had the rainbow pride flag painted on the front, all down the lapel area; the rest of the jacket was covered in patches. He checked his makeup, examining the black eyeshadow and lipstick in his phone’s camera; it looked fine. Perfect, even.

Roman was the neatest of the group, made to stand out as the lead singer. He wore the same high-heeled doc martens as the other three, but in white where theirs were all black. He had a tight white longsleeve shirt made of a shimmery material and a matching pair of white pants, and the black jacket contrasting nicely against it all. Roman’s jacket had the aromantic pride flag where Virgil had the rainbow, and the rest of his jacket was painted with red roses all at the ends of long, intricate, thorny stems. His eyeliner was sharp enough to cut, and his curly hair was piled up atop a black headband wrapped around his forehead like a crown.

Janus still wasn’t back, but he’d been on the neater end too, to counter Virgil and especially Remus’s scruffiness. Their outfit was sleek and all black save for a thin white belt around their waist. A black hat with a broad round brim framed their face like a dark halo. His jacket had nonbinary and pan stripes on the front, and thin white squiggly lines running up and down like warped pinstripes everywhere else. (Virgil knew where on the jacket one line ended in a tiny snake head, and where one trailed off into a tail, but you wouldn’t notice unless you knew to look.) They were wearing black lipstick to match Virgil, and winged eyeliner to match Roman, and contour that emphasized the sharpness of his cheekbones; definitely the heaviest makeup of the group.

Remus, sitting in the corner and making noises to themself, was a sharp contrast to his boyfriend Janus’s sleek elegance. His black jeans, splattered with white paint to match Virgil’s crop top, were ripped almost to shreds, open nearly entirely from mid-thigh down to his ankles, with only a few clinging strands of fabric keeping them anywhere in the realm of being pants. The tee they wore—black again, with his own name painted on it in large white letters—was also ripped full of holes, these ones much more deliberate; he’d slashed it carefully with an exacto knife, kneeling on the ground and focusing with their tongue stuck out slightly, until it was exactly how he wanted it and you could catch glimpses of their top surgery scars when they moved. His makeup consisted of dramatic green and black eyeshadow, and his jacket had the trans and polyamorous flags on it—he and Janus, who had nearly identical collections of pride flags between them, had split two and two which color schemes they wanted to use. The rest of Remus’s jacket consisted of a few jagged holes and some incredibly detailed paintings of green tentacles.

The instruments were fine. The costumes were fine. The makeup was fine. What else did that leave for Virgil to fret over as the final minutes ticked away?

“How about the blocking?” Virgil said. “We can go over it again if anyone—”

“I promise we know, Virge,” Roman snapped.

“Come on, kiddo, you know he’s just trying to help!” piped up Patton, Janus and Remus’s other boyfriend, who was suddenly somehow present and sitting in Janus’s lap, his pastel outfit completely out of place amidst the varying edgy styles everyone else in the room was sporting.

“How did you get back here?” Roman and Virgil demanded in unison. Virgil hadn’t even noticed Janus was back, let alone that he’d brought Patton, who was supposed to be in the audience with Logan until the performance was over.

“Oops,” Janus said, not sounding even a tiny bit remorseful as they played with Patton’s dark curls.

“Did you leave Logan alone?” Virgil demanded of Patton, hands on his hips.

“Only for a minute! He’s getting snacks, anyway,” Patton said, wrapping his arms around Janus’s neck. “We both know where our seats are, he’ll be fine.”

“You already have a partner backstage, stop being greedy,” Roman scolded Janus. “Patton, you know we need to focus right now, can you please not distract my horny bandmates until after the show?”

“You sound like Virgil, with all that worrywarting,” Remus commented, snickering.

“Take that back this instant!” Roman demanded as Virgil gave Remus double birds.

Remus only guffawed, looking incredibly amused.

“Seriously, though, uh, Patton, with all the love in my heart: get out,” Virgil said.

Patton wrinkled his nose, but pressed a warm smack of a kiss to Janus’s cheek and hopped to his feet.

“Do I get a kiss?” Remus asked, reaching his arms out hopefully.

“Makeup—” Roman began warningly.

“I haven’t got any on my mouth!” Remus said triumphantly. “Suck it, Jan.”

Janus smiled wryly, fingers rising to but not quite touching their black lipstick that Patton had avoided so carefully. “The prices I pay for beauty.”

Patton giggled, crossing to Remus, clasping both his hands, and leaning down to kiss him sweetly.

“Great, you’re very very cute together but now is not the time, Patton get out and stop distracting your boyfriends,” Roman said, shooing Patton towards the door.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “High strung much?”

“Not all of us possess your—your stupid coolheadedness powers, Remus!” Roman snapped.

Patton paused in the doorway and pointed at Roman, getting out his dad voice. “Hey. Be nice.” The finger moved to Virgil. “Be nice.” His eyes flicked to Remus, then Janus, and his voice shifted to a different tone, half flirty and half joking. “You two be good boys.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I said to stop being horny!” Roman shrieked, chasing a giggling Patton out of the room and down the hall. He returned moments later, Patton-less and fixing at his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy. “We had better not have any more alloromantic bullshit from any of you until after the show is over!” he announced. “Okay?” He didn’t sound quite as annoyed as before.

“Homophobia,” Remus accused teasingly.

But instead of snapping back, Roman giggled. “Oh, shut up.”

The twins began joking back and forth, Janus making the occasional amused interjection. Evidently Patton’s intrusion into the room, although technically unhelpful, had done wonders to break the tension, and Virgil reminded himself to thank Patton later.

Virgil’s phone buzzed with a text from Logan.

Logan: Patton found me, don’t worry. Logan: How are you doing?

Virgil: hahahahahaaaa i don’t wanna think abt it

Logan began typing, then the little bubble went away; a second later, the phone began to ring, Logan’s caller ID plain to see.

“Hi, babe,” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, dear. Would you like to walk me through your plan for the performance, to reassure yourself?”

Virgil let out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, please.”

“I am listening,” Logan assured him.

Virgil took a deep breath and launched into a detailed itinerary, knowing that Logan didn’t mind if he got a little too technical in his terminology because Logan was listening for Virgil’s sake.

“And then that’s about it,” Virgil wound down, carefully leaving off the final item from his explanation. It wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise now. “Oh, looks like we’re getting ready now, gotta go.”

“I love you,” Logan said quickly. “You’re going to do a wonderful job.”

Virgil let out a short laugh. “Thanks, L. Love you too.” He hung up, set his phone down on the table, and picked up his bass.

“You ready?” Roman asked, nudging Virgil with his elbow, as the group finally headed towards the stage.

Virgil sucked in a long breath. “Yeah. I think so. Are you?”

“Oh, you know it!” Roman grinned, a spring in his step. He paused after a second and glanced back to Virgil. “Sorry for being so wound up earlier.”

“It happens.” Virgil shrugged. “Right back at you.”

Roman nodded and put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Hey. He’s going to love it. Just wait and see.”

Virgil looked away, half smiling. “I sure hope so.”

“He will, I know it!” Roman insisted as they climbed the steps onto the stage and emerged into what could practically have been the eye of a hurricane, for all the noise and light that surrounded the stage.

The sky above was fully dark; bright lights everywhere in the area contrasted against it. There was a decent crowd. The venue seemed almost full, as a matter of fact. The observation added a thrill of adrenaline to compliment the goosebumps from the chilly breeze across Virgil’s bare midriff.

Roman stepped forward and spread his arms wide right as the spotlights came up. “Hey, folks, thank you for being with us here tonight!” he said, his smile gleaming in the bright lights and his voice booming in the speakers. “We have some great hits lined up for you tonight! Let’s get it started, huh?”

Virgil waited a few seconds for the cheer of the crowd to peak. Janus began the melody on the keyboard; Virgil came in with his bass at exactly the same second Roman began to sing, and Remus picked up the beat on the drums on cue.

Virgil was quickly able to get lost in the music, all his focus on playing and providing backup vocals, leaving him with no more brain space for his anxiety. This was his favorite thing about music: its ability to keep him in the moment.

They played three songs. Two covers that always went over really well, and one song that the twins had written together about family that always left Roman just a little teary. Normally that would be their closing song.

But tonight was a little bit different.

Roman took a step back, nodding at Virgil; the pair of them traded places onstage, putting Virgil front and center.

“So,” Virgil said, the mic on his cheek picking up his words, “we were thinking we’d let you all be the first to hear our new song. Uh, I wrote this one. And normally Roman does our singing, because—well, you’ve heard his voice. But this song is kind of special. I wrote it for my husband. So. We thought I’d perform it tonight.”

As Janus began playing the melody, Virgil searched the front row of the crowd, squinting against the lights, until he found Logan, sitting next to Patton and gazing up at Virgil with shining eyes. “Lo, I love you so much, babe. More than every star you’ve ever shown me.” He took a deep breath and began to sing.

***

10 years earlier

Unknown Number: Hello. This is Janus. Logan’s roommate

Virgil: how’d u get this number?

Janus: I broke into Logan’s phone after you started dating and saved you to my contacts just in case

[read 3:43pm}

[3:46pm]

Virgil: i Virgil: wtf dude

Janus: Your boyfriend has been moping in his room all day, can you please come fix it? Janus: Roman is starting to mope too for no good reason, but he’s doing it in the living room and at this point it is starting to affect my quality of life

Virgil: yk i literally could not care less abt that part u asshole <3 Virgil: i’ll be over in 15 Virgil: is he ok?

Janus: He won’t talk to me, I don’t know what happened

Virgil: i’ll be over in 10

It was normally a 12-minute walk from the dorm Virgil was an RA in to Logan’s apartment just off campus, but Virgil could walk fast when he was anxious or alone, and in this case he was both. Even taking the time to grab a jacket, he still made it to the building in nine minutes flat.

Janus let Virgil into the apartment almost the second he knocked, relief plain to see on their face.

“You see?” Janus said over their shoulder in a scolding tone. “I had to resort to outside measures to deal with your bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Roman whined from where he was slumped on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Netflix on the TV.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Janus demanded, hands on their hips. They dramatically pushed the button to open the microwave door, revealing a limp burrito wrapped in a damp paper towel.

“Lunch,” Roman mumbled defensively.

“You hate microwave food, and it’s four in the afternoon!” Janus snapped.

“I am in a creative slump, Jan! Have some sympathy!”

“No! Get your whiny ass off the couch and stop ruining my afternoon!”

Virgil took a deep breath and pointedly walked in between the pair of them down the hall towards Logan’s room. Roman and Janus’s still-bickering voices faded into the background.

“Hey.” Virgil knocked on the door, which had a piece of printer paper taped to it with Logan’s name written on it in blue sharpie and a couple of stars, both scribbles and stickers, scattered around it. He waited, and when there was no reply, he added, “Are you okay, Lo?”

“I’m fine,” Logan said, in a voice that had obviously been crying.

“Can I come in?” Virgil asked.

“Okay.”

Virgil pushed open the door and stepped into the dim room, closing it behind him. The blinds were closed, and Logan was curled up under a mound of blankets.

“Hey, baby,” Virgil murmured, kicking off his shoes and climbing to sit on the bed beside Logan and stroke his hair. “What’s wrong?”

Logan made a muffled noise of misery into the mattress.

“What?” Virgil said after a moment.

Logan rolled over. “Teacher didn’t like my essay.”

Virgil chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Okay, I promise I’m not making fun of you, but you do know that that is possibly the most stereotypically you thing you have ever said to me, right?”

Logan let out a little huff that was not quite a laugh. “I guess.” He was silent for a moment as Virgil continued to stroke his hair. “And I know it’s stupid. I still got a B+ and my overall grade in the class is fine and I know I’m a good writer and everything. But it sucks. I was really proud of it.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Virgil said, choosing to ignore the squirm in his gut that always happened when grades came up. It was so easy to compare or to worry about others comparing and then to worry about others getting upset over comparisons and—he dragged himself back to the present, forcibly setting the issue aside. “You’re allowed to feel upset,” he told Logan. “About anything that upsets you. Even if you wouldn’t choose it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but after a minute his hand snaked out from under the covers and grasped Virgil’s.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Virgil asked, struck with the idea.

“Huh?”

“A walk. Get out of your head for a little bit and hang out. We can talk if you want, or just be together.”

Roman’s voice grew particularly loud outside, and Virgil picked out a teary, petulant, “I hate you!”

“Plus it’ll get you away from that energy,” he added wryly.

Logan drew in a breath and sat up. “Alright. Let’s do it.” He pulled out a denim jacket while Virgil put his shoes back on and retied the laces. They made their way out of the apartment, hand in hand.

Roman was on his feet now, releasing an angry tirade at Janus, hands clenched into fists and sounding on the verge of crying, the TV remote cast on the floor beside him. Janus was sitting on the kitchen counter with arms crossed and an intimidating glare on their face.

“Hey!” Virgil snapped, and Roman cut off abruptly. “Eat some food,” Virgil told him on a hunch. Sure, Roman could be a little immature at times, but this was on a whole different level, and a lack of food seemed like the simplest culprit.

Virgil looked over at Janus, to make it clear that they weren’t off the hook either. “We’re going out. You two better make up before we get back. Clear?”

“You can’t tell us what to do—” Roman began stubbornly.

“Janus literally called me in to fix all your problems, so yeah. I can. Also open your windows, it’s gloomy as fuck in here.” Virgil opened the door and held it for Logan, tossing one last glare over his shoulder at Roman, who looked dumbstruck, and Janus, who avoided eye contact.

Logan was quiet as the two of them walked down the stairs and exited the apartment building, hands in his pockets (one still clasping Virgil’s) and eyes on the toes of his slip-on shoes.

“Wanna talk?” Virgil asked.

Logan tilted his head to the side for a moment, his thinking face slipping over his features, and then shook his head.

Virgil nodded. “Okay.” He fished in his pocket for his earbuds and plugged them in. “Let me know if that changes, okay?” He received a small nod and turned on his go-to playlist—a 12-and-a-half-hour-long composition of all his favorite emo songs that he could loop without having to put any thought in.

The two of them wandered through the streets, hand in hand, music blaring in Virgil’s ears and Logan’s fingers soft and warm against his. They made their way towards downtown; their university was in a small city, and it was pretty walkable.

As they walked, weaving around and across different blocks, occasionally stopping to peek into particularly interesting shop windows, the tension in Logan’s shoulders slowly began to relax and his gaze migrated from the toes of his shoes upwards to take in the surrounding scenery. Virgil felt himself relaxing in turn. The subdued, almost sullen look on Logan’s face was beginning to shift back to his typical bright-eyed curiosity, which meant that while maybe not all was right with the world, a whole lot was right with the world.

As the sky began to darken, Logan’s pace quickened with sudden purpose—but he didn’t lead Virgil in the direction of the apartment. Instead, he headed in almost the exact opposite direction. Virgil was lost for a moment as to where they were going, until the park in the center of downtown came into view. Ah. That explained it. He was kind of glad; he didn’t feel ready for the quiet time they were spending together to be over.

A scent caught his attention as they entered the park, and he tugged gently at Logan’s arm, nodding towards the mediterranean food truck. A small smile answered him, and a nod, and the pair of them made their way over. They both ordered gyros—Virgil chicken, and Logan, who was trying out vegetarian food, falafel.

Fifteen minutes later, seated side by side on a park bench and finishing the last of their sandwiches, Logan cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Virgil bumped his shoulder against his boyfriend’s. “Of course, babe.”

“I am feeling… better,” Logan said cautiously, as if he were testing out the words in his mouth to see if they felt true.

Virgil nodded. “Better is good.”

Logan nodded, eyes moving to the sky, which was now almost fully dark except for a streak of orange sunset leftover on the horizon. The stars were out, at least the brightest ones that could be seen even past the floodlights placed every so often across the park.

“You like space, and shit, right?” Virgil said, scooting closer to Logan and dragging his arm to wrap around Virgil as he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. It was a bit of a rhetorical question, since he knew Logan had an astronomy minor and was the vice president of the astronomy club and had gone on no less than three eager rambles about space in the last month alone, but one could always do with a conversation opener.

Logan blinked and looked down at him. “I do.” You know this, his tone said, a little puzzled at the question.

“What star is that?” Virgil pointed at a particularly bright one, although he wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to the star as he was to Logan’s face.

Sure enough, Logan brightened, his eyes more interesting than any star. “Oh! That’s not a star at all—it’s actually Mercury!”

“Really?” Virgil asked, grinning and scooting closer.

Logan wrapped his arm a little more tightly around Virgil’s shoulders with an answering smile. “Yes, and it’s actually very fascinating…” And just like that, he was off, words spilling out of his mouth at a breakneck pace, gesturing eagerly with his free hand to emphasize his points.

Virgil listened, doing his best to follow along and asking a few questions whenever Logan started to wind down, but mostly just happy to watch his boyfriend’s lips as he excitedly infodumped, and his eyes, too, alight with delight, the frustration of the disappointing grade all but forgotten as he held Virgil and told him stories about the night sky.

It was nearly ten at night by the time they made their way back to Logan’s apartment, chatting back and forth in quiet voices and giggling. Logan broke off as he opened the door and got a look inside; he glanced over his shoulder at Virgil and put a finger to his lips.

Virgil hushed and followed him in, then saw what the need for quiet was: Janus and Roman were asleep on the sofa, Roman sprawled on his stomach on top of Janus with his limbs everywhere and his face buried in Janus’s chest, Janus with their arms wrapped around him and a throw pillow propping their head up and a worn copy of Crime and Punishment flopped over from where it had clearly been propped up on Roman’s back.

“Precious,” Virgil commented softly as Logan picked up the book, tucked a bookmark off the coffee table into it, and set it down with the tender care he seemed to reserve exclusively for books and Virgil.

Logan smiled. “They are, rather.” He looked down at his roommates. “Sometimes I wonder why I picked the two most dramatic people I know to live with.”

“Sometimes like this afternoon?” Virgil said with a chuckle.

Logan snorted. “Maybe. But then they do things like this, and I remember why I like them.”

Virgil noticed something on the tiny kitchen table. “Or this?” He pointed.

Logan came over to examine what Virgil had found. “Oh,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his face.

A plate of cookies sat on the table, together with a hastily handmade card.

“Sorry :( ❤️” it read in large, expressive cursive, and beneath it in smaller, neater handwriting, “I actually didn’t do anything wrong, but these are for you and I did the dishes, also you’re welcome for the date night.”

Logan laughed quietly, taking a cookie and offering the plate to Virgil, who accepted one cookie—they looked to be snickerdoodles. “Yes. Things exactly like this,” he said. He took a bite of the cookie and raised his eyebrows. “Not bad.”

Virgil grinned and leaned over to kiss him. “Not bad at all,” he agreed, pulling away.

“I literally gave you your own cookie,” Logan whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but it tastes better this way.” Virgil winked, mainly for Logan’s reaction—he pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling an amused smile that was still visible in his eyes. “I should go,” Virgil added, glancing at the time. It was Sunday tomorrow, so he didn’t need to worry about how late he was up, but he disliked walking home at night.

Logan nodded, taking another cookie and pressing it into his hand. “Text me when you get home?”

“I always do,” Virgil said, accepting the cookie and a goodnight kiss that still tasted just faintly of cinnamon and sugar.

And he did just that; he always felt a little awkward simply texting “I made it home,” or the like, so he usually tried to come up with interesting questions to send to Logan instead. Tonight, it was:

Virgil: hey Virgil: if u could pick one Thing u always wanted to do Virgil: and get a guarantee that u’d get a chance to do that thing no matter what Virgil: what would u pick?

Logan: Fascinating question! I would like the opportunity to name a star. Logan: I don’t imagine it will ever happen in real life, but I’ve always thought it would be… cool, for lack of a better word.

Virgil: ghfdkjghksdhj i will never be over ur love for space Virgil: u have a Brand and u stick to it

Logan: Well, a brand is important in life. :-) Logan: What about you? What would you pick?

Virgil: i think it’d be neat to be in a band Virgil: idk Virgil: like i don’t wanna be super famous or anything but like Virgil: being in a band would be neat Virgil: yk?

***

Ten years later, Virgil sang the last lines of his song looking right at his husband. “And I don’t even need to look to the skies/Because all of the stars are in your eyes.”

The noise around him didn’t fade away like in the movies; to the contrary, the cheering was so loud it was almost hard to focus. But Logan’s face was absolutely alight—Virgil couldn’t be sure at this distance, but he thought Logan might even be tearing up—and he was looking at Virgil like he was his whole world. Even with the bright lights and overwhelming sounds all around, it was easy to focus on Logan in the midst of it all, Logan pressing a hand to his mouth but smiling too wide for anything to hide it, Logan leaning into the side-hug that Patton—oh, and there was Patton, right beside him—was offering, but never taking his eyes off Virgil. Logan looked so happy, even though Virgil knew concerts weren’t really his favorite type of event, and Virgil was hit right in the chest with a renewed realization that Logan was Virgil’s whole world and damn, Virgil wanted to make sure everyone knew it.

But their time onstage was up, and the next few minutes were a bustle of packing equipment away and cleaning up the space they’d been allotted backstage, and it all went by in a bit of a blur, helped along by the remnants of Virgil’s performance mindset and slight overstimulation—though that was getting better now that he was offstage.

Virgil took a quick break, when the bulk of the urgent work was done, to just stand in the empty restroom and breathe for a moment, the noise of the other band who were now onstage thudding in the background so quietly he could hardly hear it. When he’d fully composed himself, feeling much calmer, he took a deep breath and headed back out.

On his way out, he ran into Roman, pushing a dolly with a box on it. “Oh, good, there you are,” he greeted Virgil. “Can you—oh, for crying out loud,” he broke off, looking ahead.

Following his gaze, Virgil snickered as he saw Remus, leaning against the wall with their hands clasped behind his head, grinning down at Patton, who was leaned forward, bracketing Remus with his arms, looking up at him and speaking, although Virgil couldn’t hear him from here.

“We still have work to do,” Roman said under his breath, but the exasperated gaze he leveled at the pair was altogether far too fond to have much real bite.

Virgil’s mind was on other matters; if Patton was here, that meant—

“Lolo!” Patton’s voice called brightly; he’d seen Roman and Virgil and stepped back from Remus, waving happily at the pair of them. “Virgil’s here!”

At the sound of Patton’s voice, Janus emerged from the room, a little further down the hall, that had served as the headquarters for the band. He bent to give the tiny man a kiss, then turned to Remus for another kiss.

Logan popped his head out just a moment behind Janus. “Virgil?” He brightened when he saw Virgil’s face, and stepped fully out into the hall. He hadn’t changed from his work outfit, still wearing a button down with the sleeves rolled up, a tie, and a pair of jeans, and a smile that he looked like he couldn’t wipe off his face.

He was still the handsomest man Virgil had ever seen.

Virgil looked to Roman. “Permission to get back on my alloromantic bullshit, captain?” he asked teasingly.

Roman rolled his eyes and swatted Virgil’s shoulder. “Go be cute,” he said benignly.

Virgil took off down the hallway to Logan, not quite running; Logan took a few steps to meet him, and Virgil caught him in a hug so eager he actually lifted the taller man off his feet for just a second.

Logan, half-laughing with surprise, grasped Virgil’s shoulders for balance as he regained his feet. “You wrote me a song?”

“Did you like it?” Virgil asked, holding him tightly.

“Virgil, I—” Logan seized Virgil’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Virgil wrapped his arms more firmly around his husband, kissing him back exuberantly and swaying slightly back and forth.

“It’s perfect,” Logan told him, breaking away only just far enough to speak. “You’re perfect.”

Virgil grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through Logan’s neat hair. “Careful, you’ll spoil me.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that,” Logan told him seriously. “It’s not spoiling if you deserve it.”

And really, what was Virgil supposed to do about that except kiss his husband again?

56 notes · View notes

arowrimo · 3 years

Text

AroWriMo 2021 Roundup

Here is the compilation of all 48 works submitted to AroWriMo 2021!

We have a lot of variety this year - short stories, poetry, non-fiction, a play, song lyrics, a zine, flash fiction and some novel/novellas! Check out the impressive writing collected here and support the writers themselves - links to their other sites/accounts are included where possible. Give them a look/follow, and share the works you really enjoy!

Thanks to all who submitted and shared for a wonderful AroWriMo 2021, and I look forward to doing it again in 2022!

Play/Script

Leaving: A (very) Unfinished Stage Play by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, direct link (blogspot) Summary: A fractured personal narrative on entering and leaving an unhealthy relationship and the pain of being aromantic without that knowledge. Word Count: 1200 Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Personal CW: Depression, manipulation, unhealthy romantic relationship, processing self-blame

Novels/Novellas

Syrinxian Diamond: Chapter One by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: After a heist gone wrong, our hero is caught up in an interdimensional prophecy that just may bring them answers to the questions they don't know how to put into words, a feeling of difference, of not feeling right acting how they're supposed to act - but what other way is there to be? Follow our hero through desert ruins, the Wild West, a royal ball, and of course, a midnight trip to the library. Word Count: 2539 Prompt: Hope Theme: Fantasy, Ancient World Language: English Genre: Portal Fantasy, Heist CW: Unsupportive sibling, chapter one features the absence of knowledge of aromanticism, and doesn't feature aromanticism directly.

Oh, the truth shall set you free by @amanita-cynth

Summary: “I know exactly four things about Alway.” She said wryly. “She’s 23, a genius, she keeps at least three feet between her and other people at all times, and she can root out the truth like nobody else.” Of course, coming from another profiler, such an assessment carried a lot of weight. Eden Alway, the newest member of an FBI profiling unit, is odd even by their standards. But as they begin to pry more into her life and struggle with some of what they find, her past is racing to catch up with her and drag them into the storm that was her life. Featuring misunderstandings, odd behaviour, the constant problems of amatonormativity, and a rapidly escalating series of bizarre problems that they are in no way qualified for but definitely isn’t magic. Word Count: 11000 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Theme: Fantasy Language: English Genre: Crime, portal fantasy CW: Romance, Violence, Gore, amatonormativity, religious imagery, mild body horror later on, currently a WIP

Lyrics

Embers by @clad-in-sunshine (Wordpress, Twitter)

Post, Direct link (tumblr), Direct link (wordpress) Summary: I’m terrible at picking titles. But I have been enjoying writing songs, and this is one I wrote for AroWriMo and the Valentines theme of ‘Love, Romance and Friendship’ at my local folk club. The middle part is entirely uninteresting to me, so this is more about love and friendship than anything else, and the various forms that can take. The tune is called 'Midnight on The Water'. Word Count: 479 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Language: English Genre: Singer/songwriter, Folk

Games/Interactive Media

Superheroes Inc. by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: It's time for your first day as the Supervising Hero Response Manager at Superhero Incorporated, the largest collection of super heroes on the US West Coast. It's a big step up from your last job managing a team of five up-and-comers out of Chicago to supervising a nearly a hundred teams. Your priority, of course, is choosing which of the 12 big league heroes to have Shadow teleport to high crisis events. Word Count: 3000 Prompt: Future Theme: Sci-Fi Language: English Genre: Sci-Fi CW: Death, Bigotry

Comics/Zine

My Aro Heart: A Zine by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: A short zine about loving the aro community. Word Count: 50 Language: English Genre: Zine CW: Love (non-romantic)

Flash Fiction

#3 by @fuckin-fudge-nutter

Post link, Direct link (google docs) Word Count: 304 Prompt: Future Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Realistic Fiction CW: Mild internalized arophobia

A Moth And No Flames by @voidpunk.kenku on Instagram

Post, Direct link (toyhou.se) Word Count: 337 Category: Flash Fiction Prompt: Hope Language: English Genre: gaslamp fantasy CW: insects

Future by 27twinsister on Ao3

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Hikari would be alone forever. He liked that idea. The note contains my headcanons for Hikari and what the words mean. Word Count: 146 Prompt: Future Language: English Fandom: Ressha Sentai ToQger, Nonomura Hikari Genre: Character study CW: None

Loveless by 27twinsister on Ao3

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Takeru and Akari love each other (not like that, this is genfic). Mentions “ love potions or something” in one line. The note contains my headcanons for Takeru and what the words mean. Word Count: 231 Prompt: Romo/loveless Language: English Fandom: Kamen Rider Ghost Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural, hurt/comfort CW: None given

Music by 27twinsister

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Shinnosuke didn’t like silence. He liked being in an environment with other people, or with background noise. That only caused a bit of trouble at home once he lived with Kiriko. Word Count: 223 Category: Flash Fiction Prompt: Music Language: English Fandom: Kamen Rider Drive Genre: Character study CW: None

Freedom by 27twinsister

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Eiji likes his freedom. The note contains my headcanons for Eiji and what the words mean. Word Count: 140 Category: Flash Fiction Prompt: Freedom Language: English Fandom: Kamen Rider OOO Genre: Character study CW: None

Mirror by 27twinsister

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Tsukasa doesn’t dwell in any world. He just stays for as long as he needs. The note contains my headcanons for Tsukasa and what the words mean. Word Count: 223 Category: Flash Fiction Prompt: Music Language: English Fandom: Kamen Rider Decade Genre: Character study CW: None

Hope by 27twinsister

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Haruto is nervous about coming out. Word Count: 150 Category: Flash Fiction Prompt: Hope Language: English Fandom: Kamen Rider Wizard Genre: Character study CW: None

Self-Reliance by 27twinsister (Ao3)

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Tsubasa likes to be alone. The note contains my headcanons for Tsubasa and what the words mean. Word Count: 161 Prompt: Self-reliance Language: English Fandom: Mahou Sentai Magiranger Genre: Character study CW: None

Non-Romantic Relationships by 27twinsister (Ao3)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Jiro doesn’t know if his relationship with Yuki is romantic. But it’s special to him. The note contains my headcanons for Jiro and what the words mean Word Count: 209 Prompt: Non-Romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Dogengers Genre: Character study CW: Romance mention

Non-fiction

Thursday Thoughts: AroWriMo Week 1: Romo/Loveless & Future by @sophieakatz

Post, Direct link Word Count: 562 Prompt: Romo/Loveless, Future Language: English CW: Romance mention

The Future Is Arospec by aceofarrows

Post, Direct link Summary: This blog post talks about the nature of romantic attraction, why getting rid of amatonormativity is a worthwhile project, and how arospec people can help bring this about by getting involved in political activism and queer liberation. Word Count: 800 Category: Non-fiction Prompt: Romo/loveless, Future Language: English CW: None

Freedom and Music by @nzcienif

Post, direct link Word Count: 488 Prompt: Freedom, Music Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Non Fiction CW: None Link: https://nzcienif.tumblr.com/post/642572547990421504/arowrimo-week-2-freedom-and-music Promo: https://nzcienif.tumblr.com/

The Demand for Freedom to Be Oneself by @graces-of-luck

Post, direct link Word Count: 363 Prompt: Freedom Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Narrative CW: None

Thursday Thoughts: AroWriMo Week 2: Freedom & Music by @sophieakatz

Post, direct link Word Count: 647 Prompt: Freedom, Music Language: English Genre: Non Fiction CW: None

Defying expectations by @aallotarenunelma

Post, direct link Word Count: 986 Prompt: Hope, Mirror Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Essay CW: Romance, Amatonormativity

Aro Visions and Hopes by @penandquillcafe ( @aroacechillzone )

Post, Direct link Word Count: 729 Prompt: Hope, Mirror Language: English Genre: Nonfiction CW: amatonormativity, arophobia, loneliness (metaphor)

Thursday Thoughts: AroWriMo Week 3: Hope & Mirror by @sophieakatz

Post, Direct link Word count: 201 Prompt: Hope, Mirror Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: Romance mention, Sex mention

Relationship Anarchy and Hugs by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: Applying relationship anarchy to family relationships and hugs. Word Count: 522 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Non-Fiction CW: consent issues, boundary breaking

Thursday Thoughts: AroWriMo Week 4: Non-Romantic Relationships & Self-Reliance by @sophieakatz

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Word Count: Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: Romance mention

Poetry

Untitled by @brilliantsnafu

Post, Direct link Word Count: 38 Prompt: Romo/loveless, Future Language: English Genre: Nonfiction CW: Bigotry, arophobia; amatonormativity

Little Boxes by anon

Post, Direct link (Google docs) Word Count: 456 Prompt: Freedom Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Poem/non-fiction

To My Dear and Loving... by @writingthingsilike

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Summary: A poem about being aromantic but still wanting a life partner Word Count: 165 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: None

AroAce by Catolica (Ao3)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Word Count: 254 Language: English CW: Choose not to use warnings

icarus' stone by @franzimaya (@witchreyna on Twitter)

Post, direct link Word Count: 199 Prompt: Freedom Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Poetry CW: Grief

The End of the Rouse Family Tree by @turnovers-and-coke (@arbys-chocolate-turnover, Wattpad)

Post, Direct link Word Count: 144 Prompt: Mirror Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: poetry CW: None

Care, uncoupled by @graces-of-luck

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Word Count: 149 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Free Verse CW: Romance

Human = ( X - Y ) / Z by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: A poem about human essentialism Word Count: 129 Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Poetry CW: Mentions of essentialism and touches on dehumanizing ideas

Short Stories

Chasing Shadows by @secret-arrow-man

Post, Direct link Summary: A questioning aro discusses relationship problems with an old friend. Word Count: 660 Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Fiction CW: Romance, Alcohol mention

My Valentine by @bimboztown on twitter

Post, Direct link (Google docs) Word Count: 305 Category: Short Stories Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Coming of Age CW: Suicide attempt mention

Made on the Shore by @clad-in-sunshine

Post, Direct link Summary: Cora had never had much interest in people, and had chosen to live alone on the shore for years by this point. When a ship sails close, she has to deal with both her interest in it and the Captain’s interest in her. Based on the song ‘Fair Maid on The Shore’. Word Count: 2129 Prompt: Romo/loveless, Future Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Fiction, Ambiguous historical fiction CW: Romance, Guns, Alcohol

What is given by @amanita-cynth (Ao3)

Post, direct link Summary: A short exploration of a woman helping a traumatised, adopted girl come to terms with her newfound freedom. Word Count: 5645 Category: Short Stories Prompt: Freedom, Music Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Mildly Science Fiction CW: mentions of human experimentation

Lady in the Mirror by @amanita-cynth (Ao3)

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Everyone knows the story of the lady in the mirror. How she picks those she appears to is unknown. What she offers and why it is offered is similarly a mystery; those few that have interacted with her and speak of it are reluctant to share details. Maybe that is why the stories are so well-known, so far-travelled. The mystery calls to people and they want to believe they can solve it. Word Count: 1799 Prompt: Hope, Mirror Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Fantasy CW: None

Lights, Camera, Aro! by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: An aromantic actress is conflicted over how to engage with a romantically coded improv challenge. Word Count: 1885 Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Literary CW: a ghost, pressure.

Dark secret love by @aallotarenunelma

Post, Direct link (part a), Direct link (part b) Summary: What if an aspec Wicked Lawless Love MC was paired with the incubus Sascha? Word Count: 6941 Language: English Fandom: Wicked Lawless Love (Lovestruck app), Sascha Orosco x MC (Suna) Genre: Fantasy CW: Death, Romance, Sexual content

Thought That Cupid Shot Me With Love But It Was Only An Aro by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FF.net)

Post, Direct link (Tumblr), Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Soulmates were supposed to be the other half of your soul. Your one true love. Ino always dreamed of finding her soulmate. Sai never wanted one. Still, they cared for each other so they were going to make it work. Somehow.

Word Count: 10000 Prompt: Romo/loveless, Future Language: English Fandom: Naruto. Characters: Sai, Ino, Shikamaru, Choji, Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, Kakashi Genre: Friendship/ Relationships CW: Mentioned Canon Death, Minor Aphobia

Mosaic by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FF.net)

Post, Direct link (tumblr), Direct link (Ao3) Summary: We are just mosaics of everyone we love and that mosaic shows everyone we love how beautiful they are. Bean doesn’t think she can love like everyone else but maybe that’s okay. Word Count: 2000 Language: English Fandom: Disenchantment. Characters: Bean Genre: Friendship, Self-Reflection CW: Internalized arophobia, some self-deprecation, sex mention, drug mention, mention of canon interspecies relationships in fantasy setting Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29230041 Promo: entity9silvergen on Ao3, FFN, and tumblr

We Dance To Fast Music by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FF.net)

Post, direct link (tumblr), direct link (Ao3) Summary: Zuko didn’t like to dance. Neither did Mai. But Ty Lee did and they’d do it for her. Fortunately for them, Ty Lee cared about how they felt and wanted to show them just how wonderful music could be. All Zuko and Mai knew were slow dances, the things of ballrooms and romance. Ty Lee only knew the dances of friendship, freedom, and fun. Word Count: 8000 Prompt: Freedom, Music Language: English Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender. Characters: Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee, Sokka, Suki, Aang, Katara, Toph Genre: Friendship CW: None

Oblique by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FF.net)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Unable to experience romantic attraction, Remus feels incomplete. Unable to feel sexual attraction, Roman feels less than. Maybe as the King, they decide, they will feel whole again. Their partners and friends, however, know this isn’t the solution and seek to help them realize there’s nothing broken about them before it’s too late. Word Count: 12000 Prompt: Mirror Theme: None Language: English Fandom: Sanders Sides. Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil, Nate, Remy, Emile, Seth, Toby, Janus, Remus, Unnamed Orange Side, Romulus, Dragon Witch Genre: Friendship, Hurt/ Comfort CW: Romance, Sexual content, Violence

He Is Mild And He Is Meek by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FFN)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: He is mild and he is meek, he is Momo and he is what I seek. Suki always wanted three things in life. One was to become a professional soccer player. The second was to live in a cute apartment filled with succulents. The third was to get a cat. Momo probably wasn’t anyone’s first pick as a pet but Suki was determined to get this cat to love her as much as she loved him. If only he’d accept he had a home now. Word Count: 6500 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender. Characters: Suki, Momo, Sokka, Aang Genre: Friendship, Hurt/ Comfort CW: Mention of sex, non-excessive swearing

sick of all those love songs (sing to me about my friend on the moon). by nwhrs

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Johnny has always tried to follow the game, Ten has always stood out like a sore thumb, Chenle has always been quite vocal about himself, and Jisung really has absolutely no idea just what is going on (or does he?). And this is just a little part of their story. Word Count: 16413 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Fandom: NCT // Park Jisung, Zhong Chen Le, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Suh Youngho | Johnny Genre: Slice of Life CW: Romance, Discussions of romance & amatonormativity

he loves you (he loves you not) by @ternaryflower53

Summary: "Who's your companion?" the man asks. "This is Jango," he says, not adding his last name. They have a false one, a name Jango sometimes uses in undercover missions when he doesn’t want to risk being recognized as the Mand’alor’s son, but better if they can avoid using it. "He's my husband." The man frowns down at his datapad, then looks up to study Jango. "I wasn't expecting you to come with a partner, Master Jedi." or, jangobi fake dating au, but make it aromantic. Word Count: 6270 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett) Genre: Fanfic CW: Romance, fake/pretend relationship, request to be in a romantic relationship that gets shut down

#AroWriMo 2021 Works #Roundup #Aro #Aromantic #Arospec #Writing #Writblr

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

ludus

n. playful or uncommitted love; love that is focused on flirtation, infatuation, and laughter

Words: 2.0k

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Gerry Keay, Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Gerry Keay, Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Additional Tags: AU - University, AU - Everyone Lives/No One Dies, Fluff and Humor, Drinking, Alcohol, Queerplatonic Partnership, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character

Summary:

Gerry generally doesn’t frequent pubs like this one, where the wooden table in front of him is sticky enough that his glass pulls slightly against his grip as he lifts it before it unsticks with a wet ripping noise. The pub is a small, dirty thing, aptly named The Rusty Bucket, and apparently, it’s the venue for trivia night every Thursday, of which Jon and his friends are regulars.

Gerry’s never met Jon’s friends. But he supposes there’s a first time for everything.

Read on Ao3

Or, read below (more content warnings below the cut):

cw: - implied drug use - teasing - assumption that an aro character is allo (corrected and apologized for)

Gerry’s never really been one for drinking. For one, he thinks beer is gross (and that a much better use for wheat and yeast is bread, which he very much enjoys and happens to be quite skilled at making), and for two, he’s never quite been able to shake that ingrained notion that drinking is always a precursor to something else.

Sometimes, that something else is simply being drunk. Sometimes, it’s to loosen up, to make time with friends that much lighter and freer. But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes, it’s buying a stranger a drink and punching your number into their phone with fingers made unsteady by liquor. Sometimes, it’s wine on a date, with lips stained a deep red and cheeks flushed only in part due to the alcohol.

Sometimes, it’s more. And Gerry doesn’t like taking risks that he doesn’t have to. So he generally doesn’t frequent pubs like this one, where the wooden table in front of him is sticky enough that his glass pulls slightly against his grip as he lifts it before it unsticks with a wet ripping noise.

Gross.

“You don’t have to come,” Jon had said for what had to have been the fifteenth time, even as they’d caught sight of the pub that sat just a few blocks from campus. It was a small, dirty thing, aptly named The Rusty Bucket, and apparently, it was the venue for trivia night every Thursday, of which Jon and his friends were regulars.

Right. Jon’s friends. It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault that Gerry had yet to meet everyone else who’d left a mark on Jon’s life (though if asked, Gerry would insist that it was his, probably; he wasn’t known for being overly social). It was just different walks of life, different cobblestone paths that happened to intersect in a five-foot-four skinny Pakistani man with wire-rimmed glasses and a perpetual line between his eyes that fell just as easily into a smile as it did a scowl. But now that he had the chance, he found that he wanted to meet them. Maybe it was because Jon had seemed so excited, in his own way, to introduce them to Gerry. Or maybe it was just because Gerry wanted to get to know every part of Jon, to peel back every layer of the man who had wriggled underneath his skin and refused to budge no matter how hard Gerry tried.

Jon’s friends were one such layer, painted in lovely sunset hues that cast fondness and exasperation across Jon’s face in equal measure whenever he spoke of them. So Gerry wanted to meet them.

Hell, maybe he’d like them. Jon liked them. And that was one hell of a stamp of approval.

“I know,” Gerry said. “But I’m here, aren’t I?”

And the look Jon gave him at that—something profoundly grateful and even more profoundly enamored—shot through Gerry like liquid cocaine. Though if Gertrude ever asks, Gerry certainly has no such metric to know what that would feel like.

Jon’s presence next to him in the booth is a grounding one, even as Gerry feels himself getting lost in the conversation ebbing and swelling around him like white-crested waves on a sandy shore, like he’s a seashell that’s only kept from washing away by a deft hand that snatches it from the sand and holds it close. Most of the ebb and swell seems to be coming from Tim and Sasha, who bicker like they’ve been married for years but who, according to Jon, have already passed through their will-they-won’t-they stage and have settled quite firmly on won’t-they.

“Sasha’s aro too,” Jon had said, almost too-casually, as he put away a plate he’d been drying. “And Tim’s ace. A- a bit different than me, though, with regards to…”

Jon made a vague motion with his hand that Gerry recognized as his sex hand wave, and the giggle that slipped from him unbidden earned him a sharp glare.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gerry said, his eyes still twinkling with mirth. Then, because he couldn’t quite help himself: “Are you just- just collecting aspec friends? Or is it some sort of magnetic pull? Because I’d like to know if I’m a trophy friend or a hapless victim of your non-sexual magnetism.”

The wet sponge Jon threw at him was certainly warranted. It did nothing to wipe the smile from Gerry’s face.

So there’s Tim and Sasha, carrying ninety-five percent of the conversational weight. Martin sits tucked away in a corner, his hands closed around a glass of cola and his mouth curled into a small smile as he watches Tim and Sasha bicker.

(“I don’t drink,” Martin had explained quickly when Gerry’s eyes had found his glass the first time, throwing the words between them like some sort of barricade. Like it was any of Gerry’s business what Martin did or didn’t drink.

It certainly made Gerry’s virgin piña colada a lot less humiliating, though it did nothing to diminish the curling embarrassment he’d felt upon ordering it. So Gerry tipped his head toward his own drink and said, “Me either. Virgin in more ways than one.”

Which was probably not the right thing to say. Oh well.

Martin’s face had gone cherry red, and the laugh that escaped his lips seemed to take him entirely by surprise. “Oh,” he said, sounding slightly strangled. “I- congratulations?”

It certainly wasn’t the most awkward exchange Gerry had ever had. But it was up there.

Gerry took a small sip of his drink and decided that he quite liked Martin Blackwood.)

Gerry sets his drink back down with a grimace and says, quiet enough that only Jon will hear him, “When is the trivia bit meant to start? I’m dying to put my near-encyclopedic knowledge of 20th-century prose to use.”

“Need I remind you,” Jon says without taking his eyes away from Tim and Sasha, “that we are both English majors?”

Gerry knocks his knee against Jon’s under the table. “Guess we’ll just have to see who remembers Dr. Nimeiri’s class better then.”

Jon groans. “I thought we agreed to never speak about that again.”

Gerry gives Jon his best shit-eating grin. “And forget the place where we met and our lives were forever changed? Oh, I would never.”

“One,” Jon says, holding up a finger and finally turning to face Gerry. “One B, Gerry. And it was that fucking class.”

“Jon, nobody got an A in that class. Nobody. I barely passed.”

“Yes, well—”

Gerry raises an eyebrow. Jon’s mouth snaps shut and dips into what Gerry could only describe as a pout. After a moment, where Jon clearly recalls every other version of this conversation they’ve had and the myriad of insensitive things that Jon has said in quick succession, Jon finally sighs and says, “Fine. Trivia’s in thirty minutes, I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, there’s no need to look so smug.”

It’s about halfway between then and trivia when the conversation finally, inevitably, and quite unfortunately lands squarely on Gerry’s leather-clad shoulders.

“So,” Tim says, leaning his elbows on the liquor-sticky table and flashing Gerry a conspiratorial grin. “I think it’s high past time we hear all the sordid details of how Jon managed to convince you to give him the time of day.”

“Hey,” Jon snaps, giving Tim an impressive glare that bounces harmlessly off Tim’s million-dollar smile.

“Not much to tell,” Gerry says with a shrug. “Switched majors, took a shitty class, and got a very critical peer review on my first draft paper. Had quite an illuminating conversation with said peer reviewer after class that day, actually. Can’t imagine how that evolved into getting coffee.”

“You asked me,” Jon says in a sullen voice, looking very much like he’d like to melt into the woodgrains of the seatback behind him.

“That I did,” Gerry concedes. “What can I say, I’ve got a thing for angry red pen and put-upon posh accents.”

“For the last time, it is not put upon!”

Tim’s laughter makes Jon’s lips fold into a pout, and Gerry presses his knee firmly against Jon’s underneath the table. He feels Jon melt against him, just a bit, like a bristling cat brought back to itself by a gentle hand between its ears.

“So, then,” Sasha asks, pushing into Tim’s space as she leans closer to them with an inquisitive glint to her eyes. “Are you two dating?”

“Sasha!” Martin squeaks, his eyes wide as saucers as he looks at her like she’d just suggested they all strip down to their socks or something. If Gerry weren’t so used to the question—albeit not directed at him and Jon before—he might have had a similar expression on his face.

“What?” Sasha says defensively, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s just a question! And a perfectly innocent one at that!”

“Nothing with you is ever perfectly innocent,” Tim mutters under his breath, which earns him an elbow in the ribs.

Gerry sighs in something close to resignation. He’d been expecting the question, really; Gerry hated the idea of his identity being spread behind his back like some sort of rumor, so he’d asked Jon to keep it private until he got the chance to disclose it himself. It had gotten a bit more complicated when they’d become queerplatonic partners but only because apparently Jon had a chronic inability to do anything halfway, and that included his relationships. Needless to say, Jon had admitted several hours before they’d arrived at the pub that his friends were all convinced that they were dating and that Jon couldn’t figure out how to correct them without explaining their situation in full.

So, then. Gerry’s never been the biggest fan of speaking openly about his romantic preferences—or lack thereof, he supposes—but then Jon’s hand is brushing against his arm, the touch feather-light yet grounding all the same, and Gerry finds that the weight on his chest is all but gone.

“No,” Gerry says. The word doesn’t burn on the way out like he feared it would. “Er. Not romantically, at least.”

It’s less awkward than he thought it might be—putting the threads that run from Jon’s hands to his into words, skirting around textbook definitions for a bit before finally just biting the bullet and rattling them off rapid-fire, even though he hates how impersonal it all sounds and would much rather focus on how he feels when he sees Jon across the quad or how Jon’s fingers feel against his scalp when he brushes his hair or how Jon snores ever so slightly when he sleeps.

In the end, Tim just makes some joke about friendship premium subscription, Sasha sheepishly apologizes for having made assumptions, and the conversation is blissfully cut short by the announcement that trivia will be starting in two minutes.

Gerry’s hand finds Jon’s under the table and squeezes it tightly, just once. A silent thank you. The best I love you that Gerry can think to give right now. Jon’s shoulder knocks against Gerry’s in response, and Gerry thinks, just for a moment, about how fucking lucky he is.

They end up losing trivia night—1967 is the correct date, Jon kept insisting, even when Tim finally pulled the book up on his phone and informed Jon that he was, in fact, off by a year and was therefore wrong—to Jon’s utter dismay and distress. But the sentiment still stands.

And when Tim grins at Gerry and says, See you soon!, and Sasha follows up with, Next Thursday for trivia?, and Martin pitches in with a quiet, It was very nice to meet you, Gerry, Gerry doesn’t hate the warm, fuzzy feeling that spreads through him at the knowledge that Jon’s friends like him.

Two cobblestone paths merge into one, the rocks threading together as easily as Jon’s fingers with Gerry’s, and the road ahead looks like nothing but wide-open sky and glittering stars.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #the magnus archives fic #aspecarchives #aromantic gerry keay #asexual tim stoker #aromantic sasha #asexual jonathan sims #my fic #my writing #finally wrote some gerry fic!!!#alcohol //

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