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painful-pooch · 2 years

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It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's a... Fuck, It's Lukas

I definitely had a lot of fun writing this and I plan to make this a full feldged story!

Continued right over HERE

Lukas Masterlist (Coming soon)

Tagging the squad: @ocean-blue-whump, @whumper-in-training, @for-the-love-of-nsfwhump, and @winedark-whump

CW: BBU, Pet Whump, Death Threats, Gun Violence, Brief Mentions of Past Trauma

SHIT! Okay how am I going to get out of this? Do I say, ‘Heyyyyy, sorry about stealing human beings from you’? No… How about just getting the fuck out of here? Yeah, that works.

Lukas was sprinting down the hall as fast as his legs could carry him, the sound of different people barking out orders and shouting for him to stop echoing. If that wasn’t enough, he could hear the telltale sound of someone behind him firing a gun, the bullet whizzing right by his ear.

“Not the face!” He yelled at his chasers, rounding the corner and skidding to a halt when he saw two guard dogs waiting for him and an extra security detail aiming a pistol at him. He held his breath and stared at them like a deer in headlights, wondering if they could sense that he was nervous.

Well, this is not good. Nope, not good at all. Note to self: Don’t piss off the Scottish crime boss’ sister. That’s probably for the best. I think I still look cute enough to be convincing.

There was only one thing Lukas could do at that moment.

He clapped and flashed a large, smarmy grin, rubbing his two hands together quickly as if he was about to give one hell of an excuse. “I think I got lost here so would ya mind pointing to the exit? It’s a long story.”

***TWO HOURS EARLIER***

Lukas could see the private airstrip by the same estate he managed to discover held some pets, from Domestics to Guard Dogs, and also hosted some illegal pet-fighting matches. The thing was… it wasn’t owned by just anyone. It was owned by some rich tycoon woman or something like that. All he knew was that he knew better than to trust the owner.

The pilot of the plane grinned and messed with his headset, placing the mic by his lips, but making sure he was muted before speaking.

“And now, folks, if we look to our right, we will be seeing the mansion of a few deranged people living inside of there. Don’t worry though, I am sure they are very hospitable. I mean, sure I am going in there to liberate as many as I can, but it’s an adventure, right??” He asked, glancing over to the seat where his copilot, a pillow, is resting, a headset on it as well.

Silence.

Lukas rolled his eyes and huffed, “You are not a talker, Timmy, and I am very upset by this. Anyways! It’s a wonderful day today and I am not going to let your boring ass ruin it for me. Plus, I have to look super cute in my flight suit and sunglasses. No one can hurt the cute guy.” He adjusted his aviators and after he rounded the house, his fingers on the switch for the emergency frequency, 125.5MHz, over the radio. “Lights…. Camera…. Action!”

He flipped the switch and unmuted his mic, digging in deep for what he was about to do. In his most panicked yet militaristic voice, he announced, “Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan, all stations, all stations, all stations, this is Tomcat 444, position unknown, airspeed 112 Knots, altitude 1012 feet, I’m lost and I am running out of fuel, about to emergency land, Tomcat 444 Over.”

After muting, he put his thumb up at Timmy, the pillow, and once he set up for the landing, he pushed down on the control wheel, decreasing his altitude while also decreasing his speed by pulling back on the throttle. Once he got the messages he needed, the pilot smirked.

“And this year's Oscar goes to-” he tapped the wheel with his fingers to simulate a drum roll- “Lukas Ashraf Kazemi! Oh look how devilishly handsome he is! That smirk. He makes the women blush, he makes the men feel warm inside, and he makes all the other sexy people of the world swoon!” He exclaimed with a laugh, reaching over to grab his body armor energy drink. He pretended to cry and wipe a fake tear, still descending at a normal rate. “I couldn’t have done this without my biggest supporters: all of you. You all just make me so fucking happy! Oops, kids are watching this. Sorry children.”

It’s okay… This is fine! This is just landing. Not like I am going to crash and burn in a fiery inferno. Nope. Not meeeee! I am a damn amazing pilot. Please for the love of everything good and nice in the world, do not let me scratch this paint job with random ass shit on the runway.

He snickered from his antics and he ensured that he is going to land properly and safely, also keeping in mind that he had enough distance to take off again should things get wild and hectic. Things could sometimes not go as planned even though he is decently careful and strategic.

He hated landing the plane the most if he was going to be honest with himself. It wasn’t the best thing in the world and it is one of the easiest ways to actually crash, especially since he was flying a prop plane. Not just any prop plane, but a Cessna 208 Grand Caravan. It’s a gargantuan of a plane while also being the best one for transporting heavy cargo. Yes, even in the form of rescued pets.

He wasn’t the kind to get nervous, but landing is again one of those little things that always bothers him the most. That probably stems from his training all those years ago at the Academy and while in combat training. He never points the nose too low, but rather he makes it an art to land such a beast. As if it is the simple flourish of the paint brush for an artist, he lands as smooth as can be, the plane not even jolting from the impact.

He throws both hands in the air, balled up into fists while he cheers, acting like his favorite sports team has just won the championship. “Woooooo! See, Timmy? I am one cool cat,” he compliments himself, throwing finger guns at the pillow.

Silence, though Lukas was aware that if the pillow could so much as speak or judge him, it would absolutely be groaning at him. And that is what makes all of it so entertaining to him.

He went through his afterflight procedures, shutting down the plane slowly and taking off his headset. There was no way that he wasn’t noticed landing, so he was expecting someone to come pick him up and escort him inside, but he had enough time to fix himself up, putting on his Air Force garrison cap, the silver accents along the edges shining wonderfully in the light that was coming from the window.

“Man, I look like one hot fuck. I mean how can anyone say no to this face? Alright… you know the plan, Lukas. Just go in, be cute, act cute, embrace the cute, and salvage as many lives as you can. You can do this. I know you can. They are counting on you. Timmy, keep the plane warm. If I come back and you made a mess in here, I will throw you out.”

Taking in another deep breath, the ex-military officer made sure his green flight suit was clean and spiffy before opening up the door to his aircraft and stepping into the cool breeze, the sun thankfully blocked out by his sunglasses. He truly did look like an iconic pilot minus the leather jacket that he refused to wear.

He was prepared to see the mission through and made it seem like he was in a panic, so when he finally caught sight of three people approaching him, he walked around the airborne vehicle and put his hands up. “Oh thank goodness you all showed up! I didn’t know what happened, but one thing led to another and now I am here, my plane is low on fuel, and I think my navigation system is not configured right,” he explained in a rushed voice, playing up the extreme worry that some newbie pilots would have if they messed up.

To his extreme displeasure, he saw that there were two guns aimed right at him and then he noticed the individual in between both armed guards: it was a collared woman with her teeth bared, her canines more or less switched out with what he can presume to be titanium or some other metal. He could also notice that the heavy duty collar around her neck was just a notch too tight, the collar digging into her flesh a little too much. She definitely was a Guard Dog, and that made his blood boil.

Something tells me you are going to be one tough cookie… Why do I have the distinct feeling that my life is in perilous danger? Oh right… Guns. Not the face!

He covered his face and braced himself while he alleged, “My name is Felix Light, 1st Lieutenant of the United States Air Force, and my plane needs refueling because of miscalculated navigation.” He peeked over, the collared woman growling at him while the two armed guards glanced at one another. “I can show you my ID,” he offers, pointing at his zipper pocket at his chest.

Felix Light???? F. Light?! Oh if you fall for this, I am going to fucking die of laughter here. I am such a comedian! I told you I could be an actor, Mom and Dad! But noooooo, go fly a plane, Lukas. You’ll have a good time, they said. Now I am getting guns aimed at me. Yippee!

“If you try anything, I won’t hesitate to kill you,” warned the first guard, walking over and grabbing Lukas by the front of the flight suit. Her hair was as black as her soul most likely, her green eyes sharp and poised.

I am sure you won’t, but I think I have a lot more potential being alive than dead. I mean maybe I’d be cute still? I’ll have to ask someone. Also you need a day off, honey. You look mad.

“Yes, Ma’am, of course. I wouldn’t lie to you about this,” Lukas replied, watching the guard harshly unzip his pocket and pulling out an identification card, holding it up next to Lukas’ face. “I am pretty sure nothing from the picture has changed.”

She scoffed and glared at Lukas. “I don’t like your tone. You think you’re better than me?”

Yes. I am hotter, smarter, and definitely nicer than you are. I am calling you Grumpy.

“Of course not, Ma’am. It’s a pilot thing.”

“What’s a pilot thing?” The other guard asked, this one being a rather large and gruff male, his neck scruff light brown.

I am naming you Scruffy. See how you like it.

“Oh, me being a bit more arrogant.”

Grumpy clenched her jaw and shoved the card back at Lukas. “Take your shit back and come with us. Someone will refuel your plane while you speak to the Lady of the house.”

Lukas quickly placed the card back where it belonged, zipping the pocket and patting over his heart happily. His plan was working and he would soon get to infiltrate the mansion and enact his plan. He followed the two guards while the collared woman was behind him. His hands were interlaced and behind his head like he was taking a break from sprinting a marathon. He could tell Grumpy and Scruffy were engrossed in whatever topic they were talking about, so he wanted to try something.

Time to see how much charm this Tomcat has.

He turned his head back, lowering his hands and sunglasses, grinning at her with that good old fashioned Lukas touch. “And who might you be?”

She growled back at him and looked like she would kill him.

He pouted and used the puppy dog eyes trick. “Oh come on, don’t be mean to me,” he whines, adding on, “I’m a soft boy. You can tell who’s dangerous here, don’t you? It’s not you or me.”

She looked very confused at his words, her eyebrows furrowing and head tilting. “I don’t believe you.”

Really? You don’t believe me??? What the hell am I going to do huh? You can probably bench press me!

Lukas knew better than to sigh or give off any signs of aggression, so he shook his head softly. “I don’t even have a weapon on me, and something tells me they can hurt you more than I ever possibly could.”

That got her thinking a bit more, looking over at the two guards in front of Lukas, her carmel brown eyes showing the gears in her head turning. “Who are you?”

“I got a better question for you: Do you trust me?”

Before she could open her mouth and give him an answer, Scruffy barked in a low voice, “Stop talking to the fucking mutt! She’s not supposed to be talking. She only takes orders right, Saber?” He asked.

The woman, now known as Saber, bowed her head and answered back, “Yes. I only follow orders.” Her dejected demeanor was blended in with her tough outer shell, but Lukas knew better.

Not for long, Saber, I promise. I just have to find others too. I will get you out. That’s a promise I won’t break. Like the promise I made to myself not to eat Doritos while flying. Not again…

Grumpy smirked and chuckled. “Good. Know your place. Behave now or when we get inside, I can let her know that you need some time alone in the box.”

Lukas couldn’t bear to look behind him, but he knew fear when he felt it radiating so much behind him. He couldn’t give away anything yet, so he kept his mouth shut. Or well tried. “Let’s just focus on getting my pretty face out of this place, yeah? Yeah, Lieutenant Light here would love that so much actually.”

The group made it to the grand entrance of the mansion, the doors being opened by… two collared individuals, his blood boiling even more. He fully removed his sunglasses and entered the home. Once his feet crossed the threshold, he also removed his garrison cap and placed it into his leg pocket, taking his chance to get a good read on both the home and the host.

To say that the house was owned by someone rich was an understatement, being greeted by a diamond chandelier that glistened beautifully with the sunlight coming through a well placed window, dazzling colors of the rainbow all over. The staircase led up to a wall where the stairs broke off into two different directions, the mahogany wood handles being polished by yet again… another collared individual.

HOW MUCH MONEY DO YOU HAVE?! Damn! If I had this much money I would go ahead and actually eat real food every other day and donate it to safehouses that need it. Maybe buy myself a nice tuxedo… I think I would be hot in a tuxedo.

He stifled a laugh and licked his lips, inhaling deeply, the scent of wax, roses, and… fire, being so apparent. He paid one quick glance to Saber, who was standing as straight as she could, almost like she was waiting for someone to come.

And then at the top of the grand staircase was a woman in her late forties, early fifties, her hair a combination of red and grey, her eyes somehow having a purple hue to them.

Already, Lukas knew she was not someone he was going to like very much.

“Welcome to my humble home, Lieutenant Light. My name is Fia Abernathy and I hope you can make yourself at home here. I’d like to have a few words with you, if you don’t mind,” she spoke in a voice that was both regal and dignified. Her eyes crinkled barely from the small smile she offered.

“Of course, Miss Abernathy.”

Oh fuck me. I don’t think this is going to end as well as I want it to. Roll the fucking credits.

#bbu #pet whump #tw death threats #gun violence #mentions of trauma #box boy universe #Lukas Kazemi #izzy writes

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theaviskullguy · 3 years

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Ink and Petals

@dapple-dualies-propaganda here's the au

Tattoo artist! Rider x Florist! Goggles

hope you enjoy!

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When was it not busy at Squid ink?

It was one of the top Tattoo Parlors in Inkopolis. and it was also on a pretty busy street. So, it got a lot of customers. Also the fact that one of the artists was a famous turfer.

Rider hadn't formerly retired, but he had eased out of playing Turf Wars. He had found other interests outside of the sport: Theater, art, reviewing old movies online... He still did Turf from time to time, albeit the adult league. He was too old for the more popular teen division.

So, he found a job as a tattoo artist. And he rather loved it. Not only did most of his friends consult him for tattoo advice (from where the best places are to good designs), but he also knew some gossip. One of his regulars had beef with her neighbor because he has a pet raccoon who keeps stealing her trash and Rider could NOT wait to hear more about this story.

Another thing was, well, Rider had seen some shit. From people covered head to toe in tats, to people eagerly wanting their first tattoo, even to shyer folk who wanted one to defy controlling parents or to mark something important.

None of that prepared Rider for the news he got when tattooing one of the customers. More specifically, Gloves.

You see, Gloves had been coming in for the past few days. They had wanted a pretty complicated butterfly tat, so for the last 3 days Rider has been exchanging stories with the resident enby about... pretty much anything.

This is how this exchange happened;

"So you remember Goggles, right?" Gloves asked.

Rider rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'd forget the guy who kept pulling down my pants?"

"Oh ha ha. Anyways, apparently he works at that flower shop now."

"...He what?"

"You heard me!" They said. "I went there yesterday to get something for a project and there was Goggles! He misses you, 'ya know!"

Rider was just. quiet. He hadn't talked to his crush in a while, contact dwindled when Rider stopped doing Turf as much. Never once did he think Goggles would miss him, but that was probably the self hatred talking.

"...I'll think about it." Was all Rider said.

The conversation continued like nothing happen; Gloves saying multiple cursed things and Rider sharing interesting stories he heard on his job. Time flew by and soon, the tattoo was done; a butterfly with the bi colors on one wing and the nb colors on the other. Rider was quite proud of it, and Gloves seemed to like it. They waved, and left the store, humming to themselves.

Rider looked at the clock. His shift ended in just a few minutes. He knew he had no other appointments that day, so he took to watching old recorded matches in his phone.

Those were over a decade ago. Yet he still remembered everything. His favorite part was still learning he won a match by such a small margin. It was just... amazing.

He sighed. Rider missed those battles. But he has to say, he missed his crush a bit more.

He clocked out, saying goodbye to the other employee-Cherry (business relationships were easy to maintain when your coworkers were your siblings), and headed towards the flower shop for more reasons than one.

Army had a performance the next day. And yeah, Rider knew it was romantic, but platonically giving your best friend flowers was always nice. Plus, he wanted an excuse to see Goggles again.

He looked into the shop-the blue inkling was nowhere to be seen, but then again neither was the front desk. So, Rider shrugged and stepped in.

The floral scent was strong, but not overwhelming. Plenty of blossoms lined the stands, along with tags of what the flowers were and what they meant.

Rider looked around, trying to remember which flowers Army liked again, when he heard a familiar, youthful voice.

"Hi! Need any help?"

The inkling turned around. Goggles had definitely changed since Rider last saw him; his tentacles were longer and in an actual bun, for once. His blue eyes still had that clarity, and he still had that goofy smile. Though he didn't seem to recognize Rider.

"Uhh... I'll be fine. I'm just trying to remember what flower my friend likes the most." He said, hoping his accent didn't give him away; there weren't many in Inkopolis with an Australian accent.

But, Goggles didn't seem to notice or care. "Oh, okay!"

Rider internally breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been awkward if Goggles recognized him.

He looked around the shop, before spotting a bouquet of lilies. He knew Army liked lilies. If they weren't his favorite flower, it'd be close enough.

Rider took a few of the bigger ones, and a few white roses for variety, and took them to the counter.

Goggles smiled. "This a special occasion?"

"Not exactly. Just, my friend's doing a performance for a musical and I wanted to get him something for it." Rider explained.

"What musical?" Gogs asked, arranging the flowers with a sheer, white ribbon tying them together.

"Hadestown. He got Eurydice."

"Oh! I went to go see it last night! Army's amazing at that role. He's your friend, right?"

Rider internally panicked, but calmed down after remembering he wasn't Army's only friend. "Yeah. We've been friends for a while now."

"Well, tell him I said hi!" He handed the bouquet to Rider. "On me, alright? It's for a friend anyways!"

Rider nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome!"

------

A few weeks went by. Rider occasionally stopped at the flower shop and got flowers for...well, no real reason. He'd use them to add color to his house, or give them to friends. He just wanted an excuse to see Goggles.

He'd talked to the blue inkling a bit more, too. He'd gotten into the business since, well, he really liked flowers, and he wanted a job where he could just...relax! He still did Turf, of course, but the Adult league was more serious than the teen one, and he just wanted to have fun instead of be expected to take a game seriously.

He still didn't recognize Rider. The yellow-green inkling was a bit hurt by this, to be honest.

Though, it was a bit startling when Goggles actually walked into Rider's work. And Rider was assigned to give Goggles his first tattoo: A blue jay on his shoulder, taking off from a branch.

This time, it was Goggles' turn to ask questions as Rider worked.

"Sooo.... you've been coming into my shop for a while and I still don't know your name!" The blue inkling stated. "I mean, you can probably recognize me though!"

Rider shrugged. "Well, who can forget Goggles of the Idiot Blue team?"

Goggles giggled. "You do know me! I still don't know you!!"

"...I can assure you, we've met before that day I got Army flowers." Rider said.

"Ooh! Can I try and guess who you are?"

"Ehh, why not."

"Okay! Umm..." Goggles thought for a moment. "Clams facemask?"

Rider shook his head. "Nope."

"Inkfall?"

"Wrong."

"Eging Jr?"

"Not even close there."

"Stealth Goggles?"

"Getting closer, I'll give you that."

"....Rider?" Goggles asked.

Rider chuckled. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Goggles smiled wide. "I finally found you! Hi Riri!"

"Hey, Gogs. It's been a while."

"Yeah! I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognize you, since we were pretty close!" Goggles stated.

Rider shrugged. "Well, I'm not the most memorable person anyways."

"Riderrrrr don't say that!" Goggles said. "You're still really popular!"

"To some people, maybe. Not everyone."

There was a tense silence, other than the hum of the tattoo needle as it made the drawing.

"....So." Goggles started again. "How's life?"

"It's...well, better than it was." Rider said. "Got my own place, for one. Though it gets a bit lonely.. You?"

"I'm still living in an apartment. I really want a roommate!" Goggles proclaimed. "Maybe we could move in together?"

"..I'll think about it, Gogs. Though it might be fun being your roommate."

"Really? Thanks Rider!" Goggled smiled.

The conversation grew more casual. Rider enjoyed it; turns out Goggles had his fair share of gossip. It was kinda cool.

And as the next few days passed, Rider looked forward to each of those sessions. His crush seemed to go from "this person would be fun to date i think" to "hOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS IM IN L O V E", and it didn't help that during those meetings, Goggles had to be shirtless.

The days turned into weeks and months. Goggles moved in with Rider, and the two became incredibly close friends.

And, it came to a head near valentines day. Goggles' shop was very busy, as expected. Luckily, Squid Ink wasn't as much.

So, on his day off, just before Valentines, Rider headed to the flower shop and got a bouquet of roses. Cliché to confess on Valentines day, Rider knew, but he's a pining gay cut him some slack.

And Rider came home right as Goggles was leaving for his shift. So, that left Rider with a good 3 hours to practice his confession.

"Alright, Rider. This has to be CASUAL. 'Hey, I've liked you for over a decade but just now had the confidence to confess!' No, too creepy sounding. 'Yo, Gogs. I really like you and maybe we could go out to dinner sometimes?' ...Too casual."

....Yeah, this went on for a while.

Rider groaned, collapsing his his bed. "I wish feelings were fucking easier...I should just call Army."

So, he grabbed his phone and selected the contact, Veronica Sawyer Kinnie

"C'mon, Army... pick up."

And not one ring later, "Rider, what is it?"

"...I need romantic help. Please." Rider asked.

"Look, just because I'm married to Aloha, doesn't mean I know how I ended up here."

"Yeah, I kinda know that." He stated. "Still. I really need some help."

Army sighed. "Who is it? It's totally that one person with the raccoon story-"

"Actually, no. It's, um.... It's Goggles."

The octoling on the other end of the line could be heard sighing. "Still a morosexual I see."

"OI! You're the one who married a fuckin himbo!"

".....Touché. Still, there's a difference."

Rider huffed. "Just... give me some advice. I wanna confess to him tomorrow but I've got no idea how. I'm giving him roses, but like, there's gotta be something more I could do, y'know?"

"Have you tried asking Prince?" Army suggested. "He is the one with the obsession with rom coms and romance novels."

"This is his exam period, Army. I'm not about to potentially interrupt a cram session by asking for romantic advice!"

"Fair enough. I'd say...well, just rip off the band aid. Like... 'Hey, Goggles, I really like you and was wondering if you'd like to be my boyfriend.'"

"...Thanks, Arm. I'll, uh, give it a try."

-------

Rider couldn't sleep that well. Mainly out of anticipation.

He was gonna confess to his crush of...over a decade, at least. He didn't fuckin know what was gonna happen!

Like, would Goggles reciprocate? Would he hate Rider after it? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD HAPPEN-

He sighed. He needed to get his mind off this shit.

Rider looked over to his bedside clock: 5AM. 5 hours before his shift. 5 hours to get his shit together and plan for confessing to the world's cutest but also dumbest man later that night.

C'mon, Rider. Think. Army said to rip it off like a band aid, but Goggles might find that a little sudden and out of the blue. He could write a letter and leave it for Goggles when he went to his shift (The flower shop was closed on Valentines day). That would be a safe option.

Rider sat up, and got out a piece of paper and pencil, writing a note.

"Hey, Goggles.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I really, really like you. As in, a crush.

I totally get it if you don't like me back, or think I'm weird, but hey, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out to dinner or something. Probably not tonight cause of Valentine's day but maybe tomorrow night or something.

-Rider"

Quickly, he folded it and wrote Goggles' name, putting a little heart sticker on it. It was corny, but hey, Rider had to use up those stickers somehow.

Rider attached it to the roses, and kept it on his desk.

And so, the morning went as normal. He had breakfast, got out of his pjs, put his hair up... the usual.

But as Rider left to go to work, he left the note and rose on the table, and left the house quickly.

During the day, he nearly forgotten all about it; He caught up with the gossip-Apparently the neighbor with the raccoon and the regular were now dating. So that was a nice little end to the story.

Squid Ink wasn't AS busy-probably because it was Valentines day, people were spending it with their lovers, not getting inked up (unless they made the appointment when single)

And it was near the end of Rider's shift when he heard his name mentioned. Probably someone making an appointment before he heard the familiar voice of Goggles going "Okay!!"

The blue inkling walked over to his station. "Hi Ridey!!"

"...Hey, Gogs. Getting another tat?" Rider asked, trying to keep his cool.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"A'ight anything specific in mind or-"

"Can I get just a simple quote one?"

Rider nodded. "Where do you want it?"

Goggles pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly. "Right here, please!"

"Okay. Just try to keep holding that down so I don't mess up.

-----

And so, tattoo conversations ensued.

The quote Goggles had wanted was a simple Pride one, that said "love is love". It was discreet, but a bit of it could be seen poking out if Goggles ever wore a v-neck.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Rider asked, trying to keep things subtle. Maybe Goggles hadn't read the note yet.

The blue inkling nodded. "Kinda! I had mental plans buuuuut nothing serious."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "Who with?"

"..I m-mean, I still have to ask him.." Goggles' face turned a shade of blue, and he averted his gaze.

"....Can I guess who he is?"

"If ya can!"

He smiled. "Does his name have an R in it?" Rider had a guess it was himself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!"

"Got an accent?"

"Yep!!"

"Is he doing your tattoo?"

"....y-yeah?" Goggles sheepishly smiled. "I'm n-not that discreet, am I?"

Rider chuckled, but on the inside he was screeching. "Honestly? I had no clue myself."

"Really? I've been dropping the most obvious hints!"

"...Like what?" Rider asked, now a bit curious.

"Welllll I've been picking movies you like during movie night, I've made sure to get your drink on coffee runs, Oh! And I offered to cook dinner that one time!" Goggles stated.

"...Damn. I'm just oblivious then." The former dynamo user laughed, before turning off the needle. "There. It's all done." Rider held up a mirror for the blue boy.

Goggles' face lit up. "Whoa! It looks amazing!!! Thanks Riri!"

Rider smiled. "You're welcome. Now, uh, ...did you read my note?"

"..Y-yeah, I did. And, um...I like you too Rider!!" The blue man pressed a small, quick kiss to Rider's cheek.

Rider blushed. "S-so, you'll let me t-take you out?"

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"I...thanks, Gogs."

"You're welcome Riri!!!"

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aAAAAA RUSHED END

but like. hope yall enjoy!

#Galax Writes #tattoo artist x florist #splatoon #coroika #coroika rider #coroika goggles #goggles x rider

46 notes · View notes

xpao-bearx · 3 years

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Part 1 HERE

NOTE: OMG I really wasn't expecting for the previous first part of Heavenly Sins to blow up as it did, but I just wanted to give a huuuge THANK YOU to all of you amazing folks!! 🥰🥰🥰 Your support truly means so fooken much to trashy ol' meh and y'all are the reason I am writing this story series in the first place :')

I do have my ideas, but I still don't know much yet of what to do or even how long (or short) this story will get. So, if you would continue to give me your mindblowing support, it would seriously mean the W O R L D.

I do, however, very much enjoy writing Negan in particular so far. He's one of my absolute fave characters ever and JEFFREY DEAN FUCKIN' MORGAN NEED I SAY MOAR?!? 🥵💕💕

But this second part will be focusing a bit more on our beloved sheriff Ricky boi! Of course, Daryl will also get some much deserved love and attention tho I think he will appear in the story a lil later on.

Also, if you ever feel compelled, you are more than welcome to take some inspo from this story and make your own imagines and such! I'd love to see 'em, so please tag me 😁

P.S. There won't always be long ass notes like this, only if I wanna say something or bring up whatever is important. Also, if you wanna be tagged on any new/future story parts, then just tell moi and I will dedicate the latest one to the people who wanted to be tagged!

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @buttercandy16 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 2

After your little spiel, you haven't spoken to Negan since then. But on the way home after church, you passed by his house and found him tinkering away on his motorcycle (which you previously learned he interestingly named Lucille) in the garage. Not being able to help yourself, you paused in your tracks and just curiously watched him for a while.

His leather jacket was off, revealing a plain white t-shirt. The shirt was quite tight, and you noted how it perfectly hugged the taut muscles of his chest. Your eyes then slowly trailed to his toned arms, adorned by tattoos you wished you had a better look at. He stopped briefly, placing his tools down before grabbing the hem of his shirt and wiping the sweat on his forehead.

You didn't even think twice as your eyes dropped, hyperfocused on his abs. He wasn't the buffest guy out there, but he was lean and fit and--to put it bluntly--hot. A part of you screamed bloody murder to get a grip on yourself, to just turn your stiff body around and proceed on home. But another part completely squashed down those protests without even a fight; as if your pathetic excuse of a resolve wasn't even meant in the first place.

"Take a goddamn picture, darlin'. It'll last longer."

Your head snapped up, meeting the tantalizing hazel stare of Negan. His lips were curled in a smug smirk, and nevermore in your entire life have you wanted to both slap and kiss someone so badly.

But you only clicked your tongue, shooting him a sharp glare before (at last!) turning and walking away as you hid your blush. In the distance, his amused chuckle begrudgingly sounded like the sweetest fucking music to your ears.

♡♡♡

You woke up at 7:05 a.m. like you typically did the next morning, Monday. It was the dawn of a new week, and while most people dreaded it you actually didn't mind it so much. You had your job to thank for that.

Sure, it wasn't always easy, but it was worth it in the end. You loved teaching and spending time with the children, and you were even more ecstatic since you knew Judith was going to be at the daycare.

As you finished eating breakfast and preparing for the day, you grabbed your bag then went out the door. You opted to walk again today, the weather far too beautiful to miss plus the daycare really wasn't that far away.

Eventually arriving at your destination, you approached the daycare building's doors with a little spring in your step. Once inside, a young woman with her blonde hair high in a ponytail smiled and waved.

"Hi, Y/N! Goodmorning!" Beth Greene greeted energetically.

"Morning, Beth." You chuckled, the girl's radiant smile infectious. You've known Beth for some time now, especially since the Greenes were one of the oldest families in Alexandria and they were well respected. But you got along best with Beth, you thought she was the friendliest and she was also the latest hire of the daycare.

Stashing your bag away in your personal locker, you fixed yourself up a bit before getting your nametag and sticking it on your top. Looking up at the wall clock, you read that it was 7:50 a.m. Perfect, just in time for the kids' drop-offs.

You waited outside with Beth and the rest of the daycare workers, until finally the parents started rolling in. It was the usual; some of the children were wailing, snot snivelling down their nose as their embarrassed parents tried to tug them away from clinging onto their legs. You could only offer a sympathetic smile as you tried to help, while other children were much more relaxed and didn't even spare a second glance at their parents as they were dropped off.

"Well, that's about all of them." Beth piped up.

"Wait, we're still waiting for Judith." You said, searching for the toddler. "Rick said she'd be here."

Beth checked her watch, her brows creasing a little in worry. "That's odd. Sheriff Grimes is never late when he's dropping Judith off."

Just as she said that, there was a honk that disrupted the peace. You and Beth both spotted a crying Judith being held by Lori, the woman appearing utterly exhausted before her eyes locked with yours and didn't waste another second dashing towards you.

"Please don't run when you're holding Judith. Also, no honking is allowed on the premises." It was hard for you to keep the malice out of your voice, but you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back since you miraculously managed to not make it sound the worst it could get.

Lori raised a brow at you, but only handed Judith over to you. Judith immediately quieted down when she saw it was you, you cooing gently at her as she giggled and snuggled up comfortably against your chest.

"Rick will be picking her up later." Was all Lori said, pressing a quick peck on Judith's curly little head before parting ways. As Lori rushed back to the car, you saw Shane in the driver's seat shamelessly attack her neck with fervent kisses and you couldn't restrain an eyeroll.

"Fucking bitch..." You grumbled.

"Uh-oh. Bad!" Judith giggled again, clapping her hands gleefully.

"Right, right. Bad. Don't copy me, okay?" You laughed, completely forgetting about your aggravation as you rubbed your nose with Judith's and went inside.

♡♡♡

The rest of the day rolled along splendidly. No one threw a tantrum and for the most part, all the kids properly shared the wide assortment of toys and even did their activities orderly and on time. So, you decided to indulge them with a small yet much sought after reward.

Painting.

When it comes down to children, painting can be utter chaos. But you figured since they were being so good, you'd allow it. At the daycare you worked in, painting was quite a rare occurrence and that only solidified how much the kids adored it.

Once the materials were set out, it was a dizzying flurry of excited hands grabbing anything it could latch on to. As the kids went about doing their creative business, you found Judith all alone sitting in the corner playing around with some blocks.

"Whatcha doin' there, Judi?" You asked, sweetly calling out her nickname. "You don't wanna paint?"

"I wanna, but not with papers." She replied, shaking her head.

"Oh? Then where do you wanna paint?"

"I wanna paint on faces, but no one wants me to!"

"If that's the case, then I'd be more than happy to let you paint my face." You smiled.

"Really?!" Judith's whole face lit up, jumping up and wrapping her tiny arms around you as tightly as she could. "Thank youuu!"

You chuckled, ruffling her hair and watching as she happily gathered some paint and brushes.

♡♡♡

It was finally the end of a long day, and your face felt a bit itchy from the paint Judith put on you. But it didn't matter; as long as the little girl was happy, it was the best damn day ever.

You were holding Judith's hand as you waited outside for Rick to pick her up, and once he came up with his car Judith beamed.

"Daddy!"

"Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a nice day?" His face looked tired, his greying beard making him appear slightly older than he really was, but his smile was genuine as he carried Judith in his strong arms.

"The bestest! Y/N lemme paint her face!"

"She did, huh? What did you pai--oh my god."

You bursted into laughter at his reaction, flashing him a toothy grin. "In the words of Judi: You're a pretty tiger! Grr!"

"Now that you mention it, I can see it." Rick joined in your laughter, nodding his head. "Looks like we've got a talented lil artist in our hands!"

"Daddy, I wanna paint your face next! You can be daddy tiger and Y/N can be mommy!" Judith proclaimed.

You and Rick flushed pink at the same exact time, but Rick was quick to clear his throat and change the topic. "A-Anyways, Y/N, how 'bout me and the kids give you a ride? Thank you for today, by the way."

"No problem, and sure! Thanks so much."

As you settled in the passenger's seat, two hands covered your eyes from behind. "Guess who~?"

"Hmm..." You hummed, making a show of thinking. "Are you an elf?"

"No!" The hands were removed, Carl popping his head out from the backseat to look at you as he laughed. "It's me!"

"Oh, sorry! You're just so short, I thought you were an elf." You teased good naturedly.

Carl huffed, sticking his tongue out at you. "Y'know, in a few years, I'll be way taller than you!"

Once Rick was done buckling Judith into her carseat, he took his place in the driver's seat and drove out of the premises. You just talked about anything that came to mind: work, the weather, Alexandria's local shops, etc. To anyone else, maybe it seemed like regular boring conversation. But speaking with Rick was truly one of the highlights of any of your days. He was extremely easy to talk to, and he never failed to cheer you up. And it was obvious Rick was the same. He was allowed to simply be himself around you; to loosen up, momentarily forget about the stress and sometimes even the woes that came along with being the town's upstanding sheriff.

As you were nearing your home, Carl decided to cut in.

"Y/N, can we stay at your house? It's been a while since we had a sleepover." Carl asked, his baby blue eyes identical to Rick's alight with hope.

It wouldn't be the first time Rick and the kids would be staying over. You were very close to the Grimes family, sometimes even almost considering them as your own. You didn't mind it. Since you lived alone, it can get pretty lonely. And having people around surely brightened up the house and made you keep your sanity.

"I don't mind, but you gotta ask your dad." You chuckled.

Carl turned to Rick, pouting and giving his best puppy dog eyes. Rick rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress an inkling of a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. But let me drop you and Judith off with Y/N first. I'll be back, I just need to get some extra clothes and essentials."

"YAY!" Carl cheered, Judith following suit as they both raised their arms and hollered.

"You're so whipped for them." You laughed, shaking your head as you looked at Rick.

"I ain't denying that." He sighed dramatically, grinning.

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whore4batfam · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @thelittleredheadedmusician! Thank you, I didn’t want to work and this is a perfect distraction~

How many works do you have on Ao3?

34, I believe

What's your total Ao3 word count?

106,218

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Batman, Star Wars, Greek mythology

What are your top five fics by kudos?

she’s like a shine on your shoes (or hearing the blues)

trix yoghurt story

Forever Today, Never Tomorrow

Lost Stars

18 (Beginnings and Endings)

(besides the first one, these are all very old)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes! I get busy often, but sometimes it’s nice to respond to comments. Especially if they point something out in the story that made them feel something, or have a question. I’m anonymous on all my work, so I don’t think people expect me to respond as much. And, well, the idea is to cultivate an experience just with the story and not necessarily with me, so it’s a half and half sort of dynamic.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Mmm…I think maybe Son of Gotham, but I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s angsty. Ashes Ashes (We All Fall Down) also isn’t necessarily angsty, though there is character death. The Price of Velvet Walls might be what fits the “angsty” type, because there isn’t really any resolution, so we’ll go with that one.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t, sadly!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

A long time ago, when I was 13 or so. We called them “flames” back then 😂 I feel like it was just an excuse for miserable people to feel a bit powerful, but nowadays I haven’t had much hate. I have had folks be upset with the direction the story goes, which can be understandable because you get so invested. I have had people talk about their frustration with how the characters are behaving while acknowledging that it’s in character and being kind to me as the author, but I don’t mind that a bit! I’ve also had folks accuse me of stealing (because I’m anonymous) and very angry with me, which is actually nice to see how vehemently they protected someone else’s/my own work. I’ve explained that the writing I post actually belongs to me before and I probably will again lol

The only time I ever got angry was when someone made an incest joke, and I was quite upset at that. Stuff like that isn’t funny, so I deleted the comment and made it a point to say that I wouldn’t accept anything of that nature.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do not. I struggle with romance, but the older I get the more I understand it. Like real romance, not what people think as romance. Plus, smut is centered around voyeurism and often degradation as a method, and that’s not my cup of tea.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, but I do see my headcanons and drabbles in stories all the time 😂 I don’t think they know that it’s mine, or even where it came from. It’s sort of cool to see my ideas become a part of a “culture” so I don’t mind.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once, they asked to translate Son of Gotham and then disappeared off tumblr forever so I don’t know where the translation is 😅😂

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not a fandom fic, but I write with my friends alllllll the time

What's your all time favorite ship?

Uh…hmmm. Recently I’ve been into Jane Austen couples, the sort of elegance while maintaining a realistic relationship. I also love Anne/Gilbert, Han/Leia…I always blank with this question.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

All of them 😂😂

What are your writing strengths?

People have said that they like my dialogue (how “messy” it is), and how every character isn’t demonized or made to be perfect. Everyone struggles in their own way, and Simone Weil said something once about how we rarely give people understanding or truly look at them without pity or frustration. To look and understand is one of the rarest forms of human links, and thus love, I suppose. That might be the quote, I’m working off the top of my head so it’s probably not quite right!

What are your writing weaknesses?

Motivation. I’m busy and get tired easily, and I flit from project to project like a butterfly. I think one thing I struggled with in the past has been my writing not living up to my original idea. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to work with refining and accepting that it is good as it is, aka this came from me and it still has value. I think often too things are more organic when writing, and intuitively you know where the story ought to go beyond what you thought was best. I also “overdo” things the first time around, and I rarely have patience to edit before I post 😂

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t have any strong opinions on it, though I think it’s nice to try to get it right! I’m American so I am monolingual, and would likely need to do a lot of research/gain help from a native speaker. Basically, just be respectful with any language you use.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

American Girl. I was eleven 🥺

What's your favourite fic you've ever written?

Oof, tough question. Tbh I love a lot of the stuff I’ve written with my friends (fanfic of their worlds). I like the utter ridiculousness of the trix yoghurt fics, I like the silliness of birds all sing, I like the artistic direction of Son of Gotham, I like the feelings dark side of the morning has. Ultimately I really like she’s like a shine on your shoes, because it’s given me an opportunity to explore a lot more dynamics that I haven’t really paid attention to in canon, and discover more truths amongst characters that are accurate to real world experiences and people too. So that would be my answer!

I tag @hollyhock13 and whomever else would like to do it!

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thetierdslytherin · 4 years

Text

The Avatar’s sister

Bolin x reader(korra’s sister)

2k words and it’s kinda poorly edited

a/n there’s some cuss words and some violence?

“We were just looking for the bathroom and we got lost!”

“Ah the old I had to pee excuse you know i'm sick and tired…” I don’t catch the rest of what he's saying because I see a teenage boy dressed in pro bending gear or as I like to call him our way out of this situation. I motion for him to come over praying to the spirits that he can read the room.

“There you two are, I've been looking everywhere for you two! It's alright Toza there with me” Up close I can see that it's actually Bolin the earth bender for the fire ferrets. Spirits can my day get any better. I've seen a few pro bending matches before and listened to even more. One of the few perks of being the avatar’s sister. While she spends her days training on air temple island I spend my days wandering the city my favorite pastime being watching pro bending matches.Spirits he looks even better up close

“Yeah were with him” I say flashing the man a million watt smile and he responds with

“so you see we’re together” Oh I like where this is going. Before I can respond Korra replies

“well not together together” speak for yourself Korra. I'm more than happy to be together together with him. He starts to stammer embarrassed by Korra words so I try to save all of us

“You see Toza Bolin and I are together and my sister was just tagging along with us.” Please let this work, if not Tenzin is going to kill me for letting korra go out with me.

“Ah I don't care I got work to do” the man begins to walk away and I pull the stammering duo out of the room before either of them could blow our cover. I turn around to see a blushing Bolin and a confused looking Korra, I really need to teach her how to pick up on social cues

“I’m y/n, a big fan of yours, so Bolin why don't you show the two of us around” I say while grabbing his bicep motioning for him to lead. Bolin showed us around for a while before leading us into an area overlooking the arena “So what do you think best seats in the house huh?” It really is you can see the whole arena from up here and it's much less crowded than the seats in the stadium plus there isn't a guy as easy on the eyes as Bolin down there.

“Oh absolutely the view just keeps getting better and better” it's not often that I get to meet people as just y/n, not the avatar's sister, or korra's younger sister. It's nice to be myself around someone knowing that they're not using me to get to the avatar. Besides from what I've seen Bolin is too sweet and innocent to do that anyways.

“Unbelievable this place is even more amazing than I imagined” I let out a small chuckle at Korra's words. It's nice to see her getting excited at the smallest things, it shows me that she can still be a kid and not burdened by the weight of the world. It makes sneaking out and a possible chewing out from Tenzin worth it “Names Bolin by the way”

“Korra” “I know” they both look at me waiting for an explanation “well i'm just a huge fan of yours” I pause “well the fire ferrets in general”

“Psst Bolin”

“Yeah”

“I told you you have to stop bringing your crazy fangirls in here before the matches get them out of here” His older brother Mako whispers this to him Korra and I both hear due to the fact that they suck at whispering. It almost hurts my feelings that we aren't the only ones he brought back here but then again he's not the first guy i've flirted with here. Though he is the first guy i've flirted with that seems so...innocent.

“Aw c'mon Mako I kinda promised them that they could stay but I got a good feeling about them there's something special about the two of them. I know it” Well he's half right there. I wonder why he lied to his brother so we could stay. He never promised us we could stay back here. Some part of me hopes it's because he's interested in me too. “Come here I want you to meet my brother Mako” he says eagerly pulling me towards him

“Mako! Wow I heard you play on the radio” oh boy she's totally fangirling. I personally don’t see what's so interesting about Mako or his brooding douchebag act “cmon Bolin we’re up” Mako says completely ignoring Korra walking past her, see brooding douchebag. Korra not taking the hint turns to Bolin “or I could meet him later”

“yeah he gets real focused before a match anyways wish me luck” his comment makes me laugh. Something about the positive energy he radiates is infectious. He jogs away, I yell “good luck Bolin” followed by “good luck knock em out” from Korra

“So do i have to be the one to say mako is bad news or i have to let you figure it out yourself” I cross my arms giving her my best ‘i know better than you’ look. While Korra may be the older sister, only by 11 months might I add, she doesn't act it. I blame all of her teachers and instructors for never letting her live when she was younger. Now that she's basically an adult seeing the world for the first time she's very sheltered.

“He is not bad news y/n you heard bolin he was just focused for the match! Besides, did you see him?” let her figure it out for herself it is.

“Yes and i also saw you drooling at him” I tease

“Oh please like you were any better with Bolin you were practically throwing yourself at him” these are the best moments when we can just goof off.

“First off I do not throw myself at anyone, he's just sweet and insanely hot. Secondly which one of us actually has experience with boys” she opens her mouth to defend herself before quickly shutting it. Got her there. “Exactly now pay attention the match is starting” We both turn and lean on the balcony watching the start of the match.

“The rookie ferrets came out of nowhere and made it further than anyone expected this season but tonight they face their toughest test yet folks” we watch the two teams trading back and forth blows until the fire ferrets ultimately win with Mako knocking all 3 members of the opposing team into the water. I turn to Korra to ask how her first ever pro bending match was but stopping when I see her and Mako holding each other's gazes.

“Yes! Whoo did you see that one more win and were in the championship tournament!” Bolin yells running into the room skidding to a halt in front of me “so what'd you think y/n?” he looks down at me trying to conceal his excitement waiting for me to answer him looking happier than i've ever seen him-if that's possible.

“You guys were amazing Bolin!” I practically yell pulling him into a quick hug.

“Bolins got some moves huh?”

“You could say that again” Before Bolin can say that again Korra grabs him by his shirt pulling him towards her

“That was amazing” then korra promlety pushed him away as Mako and Hasook approach arguing about the last match

“You did more harm than good out there, you almost cost us the match!”

“We won didn't we?”

“Barely”

“Get off my case pal” Hasook yells before storming out of the room.This doesn't put a damper on korra's mood though as she addresses Mako “You guys were amazing out there especially you mr hat trick” Mako yet again walks right past her him barely paying her any attention to her half heartly saying “oh your still here”

“What gives you the right to be such an ass mr hat trick?” I say coming to my sister's defence. Pro bender or not it doesn't give him the right to be a jerk. I even bet I could beat him sparring. He's not even good enough to be this much of a jerk.

“Your good do you think you could show me some tricks?” no no no korra that wasn't the deal I sneak you out we watch one pro bending match and we go back to air temple island.

“Yeah sure absolutely i'm just not sure how my earth bending might translate to your water bending but we'll figure it out” This cant get any worse if she lets them know she's the avatar we're toast. No ones supposed to know the avatars in republic city

“Won't be a problem-”

“korra's right it won't be a problem because we really have to go-”

“because i'm an earth bender” great this is j ust great.

“Im sorry no no i didn't mean to assume ya know cause i was just figuring since well with your water tribe getup that you two were well water bender”

“Korras just messing with you of course were both water-”

“You're right, I'm a water bender too and fire bender” social. Cues. Korra.

“Hmm hmm i'm very confused right now” Bolin

“Your the avatar and i'm an idiot” Mako

“Both are true” Korra. I throw myself into the nearest chair running my hands through my y/h/c hair.I wonder if I beg for forgiveness if Tenzin will still ground us for the rest of forever

“I need a drink” I say, completely ignoring Bolin’s freak out about Korra being the avatar I've heard it all before. Just like that my chances with Bolin have gone out the window no one has ever liked me more than my sister she's the avatar I can't compete with that .I never will be able to.

Nonetheless I follow the brothers into the training room and sit on the stairs looking as happy to be there as Mako does. I don't pay much attention to Bolin and Korra training “so mr hat trick is there any reason why you're so prickly or are you always like this?”

He scoffs “no i just don’t appreciate the two of you showing up like that besides your sister is a piece of work” “No kidding hat trick don't you know being the avatar comes with a hero complex?” Okay so he's not as bad as I thought.

“Well it's getting late so i'm going to turn in but you kids have fun”

“Speaking of Korra we really do need to be going” I speak in a tone to let her know it wasn't an option.I stand up brushing my water tribe robes off “it really was great seeing you Bolin but we have to go”

“Sorry my sister is being such a wet blanke-” “now Korra”

“Hey um y/n could you hang back for a second” here it goes. Is your sister single? Can you set me up?

“What do you need Bolin?”

“You mean other than you in my life” we both cringe after he says that.

“That has to be the worst pick up line i've ever heard”

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly “heh yeah it wasn't really my A material but the real reason i wanted to talk to you was well i was mostly just wondering well we have a match next”

“Bolin spit it out i'm sure it isn't that bad”

“Do you want to come to our match tomorrow then get some food after” he looks at the ground playing with his fingers. Where was the confident Bolin I met earlier?

“Yes”

“Well it was a stupid idea anyways I shoul- wait yes? Really! I uh I mean of course you would want to get food with me” maybe he's more insecure than I initially thought. But then again people do have layers.

I kiss him on the cheek turning away from him and walking to the door so he couldn't see the blush on my face “I'll see you tomorrow Bolin”

#bolin x reader #bolin x y/n #bolin x you #lok #legend of korra #mako #korra

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thegirlwholied · 3 years

Text

fic writer interview game

(though I go such long spans between updates 'fic writer' is a generous description... look, I may not have glorious purpose but I have glorious excuses)

& thanks @aurorawest for the tag 💕

name: Cara

(...not sure how many of you out there know this actually- except those of you who know me IRL! - as while I love my name I rarely reference it here & do enjoy that a certain corner of the internet knows me as lyin)

fandoms: I am a dabbler, a renaissance fan, a reader-of-all-trades (master of none!)- I'm all over the place; if I like something I check the Tumblr tag; if I reblog it I have probably at least stalked the AO3 page to see what folks are up to (I am in my own little fandom corner- but kitty-corner to many avenues!).

two-shots: the closest I've come to a two-shot I wound up putting up as a one-shot instead (or we could count my one fic that only has 2 chapters, but in my head it has more)

most popular multi-chapter fic: I had to check but my guess was right, it is Glass of Water, & you know, imho the one thing ol' fan fic dot net still has going for it over AO3 is its cool statistics - I don't know who you are, 50-100 people from all over the world reading till the last chapter every month on FF Dot Net even now, but much love!

actual worst part of writing: making myself sit down & get going. When I really get going - I forget to stop, I forget to eat, I don't hear people talking or music (when I toured the Louisa May Alcott house they described her writing like this and I related so much), I go for hours upon hours without meaning to and then I stop and - tend to stay stopped too long. I'm not good at the 'write everyday' process; I'm best at it when traveling, when I'd settle in at a coffee shop or location (or on a plane!), write some, & have to move on, but, uh, global pandemic put a cramp in that. I know it has to be on the page to count but I really, really do a lot of my writing in my head first. Most of my fics, if you've read one, are first drafts, straight up. They just got rewritten in my head & half-started notes & beginning scenes until I finally sat down and the whole thing came out at once feeling right. Or half comes out in one burst and the rest in another burst however much later. Typically I'd adjust a few typos & post. This is by no means writing advice! It'd be bad writing advice! But just how I operate. I've tried other ways but I've learned over years that my work's better when I accomodate/work around my natural creative process rather than trying to change it. (Also deadlines. I'm so good at delivering on hard deadlines; I am weak with soft deadlines.)

how you choose your titles: as this is a fic specific 'interview', how I title fics is very different than my og fiction. Most commonly: song lyric (...actually I did title my og fiction grad school thesis after a song lyric too; i may not hear/play much music while I write but I sure think about writing while listening to it), canon reference that is typically One Dramatic Word, poem/quote references with a heavy lean on Yeats.

do you outine?: not for fan fics, but I have a general shape in my head of 'this chapter where this happens' - if I have an unfinished fic with expected number of chapters, those are pretty accurately predictions; I have at least a big picture of what happens in each chapter. & probably some of the conversations, sometimes even already jotted-down dialogue. A written outline? Not so much (my original novel did have a list of chapters with notes to keep it straight but they looked like "Chapter Thirty-Seven: epilogueeeeeeee denoumenttttttttt job" - direct quote down to the # of t's, there)

Ideas you probably won't get around to, but wouldn't it be nice?: I still convince myself I will finish All the Things! but uh some have gone wayside yeah. One I really thought would be cool & know is blowing in the wind was this Buffy fic (yes, A Fic Not Appearing On My Actual Fic Profiles) which was a *whole* Big Concept thing even though I thought I could do it in 5 chapters. ...And then I didn't.

spicy tangential opinion: not that spicy but the fanon/canon gulf is often wide & deep for certain characters in particular &🎶I'm frightened by those who don't see it🎶. really, a character’s fanon version at times may be more fun (though more often it softens character's edges amd I like edges) but... with *certain characters in particular* it feels like that distinction’s been weirdly lost. Also, random, but probably because,my formative years were fan fic dot net, not livejournal, I always feel odd when my AO3 replies to comments (instead of reviews) are a) public and b) add to the comment count. AND I tend to wind up in a loop of 'wouldn't this person rather I spent this time working on an update' where I just... never reply which seems counter to the expected AO3-cultural norm these days, so I feel guilty? Despite the guilt I just reply to so many emails for a living (3 inboxes just for work, plus then my personal email & texts!)... so for the record my default approach is 'I appreciate all comments SO SO MUCH & do read them all but please message me on Tumblr instead if you want a response".

These opinions are 'pumpkin spice' levels of spice, not exactly cayenne here, but hey I think I achieved tangential

callouts @ me: I always think I will get there faster than I do - this is true when I am driving places too! My friends expect me to be late even though I don't expect me to be late!- so I have been known to, let's say, overpromise on update speed. (I meant to do my work today, goes a favorite poem that always applies @ me) (Time between 2011 and 2021 feels especially timey-wimey and oh no 🎶well, I guess this is growing up 🎶).

(also @ me: overly fond of parenthesis.)

& definitely some people-pleasing tendencies that spill over into, not so much my writing itself, but how I feel about it.

best writing traits: detail, dialogue, ...deaths? Lol but really. My favorite thing as a reader is when writing make you laugh & cry so those are my favorite compliments as a writer. Humor/angst: always my fic genre. Even my closest-to-fix-it fics are labeled 'somebody lives' not 'everybody lives'. ...and I need to update them (dammit)

tagging: ...this is way too long to tag, aka inflict directly upon, anyone else, except @aurorawest who asked for it 😂

#about me #tag games

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krokonoko · 3 years

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Got tagged by the one and only @northernscruffycat 💕

I tag whoever feels like doing this~

How many works do you have on AO3?

29, apparently? the account is REALLY old and has a lot of ancient crap on it tho lmao

What’s your total AO3 word count?

128149! which is a lot, considering that I write almost exclusively oneshots.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

10! I’m usually not a very active fic writer lol

video games: Elder Scrolls, Amnesia, Hitman, Dragon Age and Metal Gear Solid

live action movies and TV shows: Better Call Saul, Collateral and Edge of Tomorrow

cartoon and anime: Gravity Falls and Boku no Hero Academia

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Bait (Lalo/Nacho, Better Call Saul, 2.7k words. “just” a pwp, but it’s my baby, my beloved)

Ten Years Passed That Night (Bill+Rita, Edge of Tomorrow, 3.4k words. insanely popular by my standards, but also rly old and I don’t remember what happens in it. All I know is that it’s set post canon, Bill experiences an uncomfortable situation, instinctively tries to reset the day through suicide and almost kills himself in the process.)

a Collar by any other Name (Lalo/Nacho, Better Call Saul, 2.7k words. shameless dressing kink. came into existence on a bit of a whim. I think I wrote it down in one go (just like Bait! it seems like those kinda

Something to Hold On To (Lalo/Nacho, Better Call Saul, 4k words. more pwp with an excuse for a thematic red string holding the whole thing together asdfg)

Strange Attractors (Lalo/Nacho, Better Call Saul, 14k words. Lacho, but make it Groundhog Day. holy shit, when did this one get so many kudos?? it’s a very rare multichapter from me and paused atm cause I’m a fickle sob who can’t focus on one and the same thing for more than two weeks :/)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yeah man, of course! honestly every time I get a comment I can’t really believe it? I never had an opportunity to get used to feedback, so every person telling me they liked my writing brightens my day 🥺

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

probably A Cornered Dog. it might seem like Max has risen to power, but in reality, Vincent has (involuntarily) succeeded in turning him from a sweet, emotionally intelligent man into a cold, manipulative person, aka someone who can endure what Vincent puts him through.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

yeah, not even a week ago I got this huuuuuuge, longwinded comment on my Kacchako fic Plus One explaining to me in great detail why Bakugo being trans and Ochaco being bi completely ruined the story lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do, but it's a fairly recent development! I mostly write m/m, but I have written m/f and I’m open to writing f/f smut too!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah, one of my Collateral fics got translated into Russian. I think it was We All Die Alone.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

stealing Pandirpus’ answer: I’ve written a very fun Amnesia AU fic with @pandirpus Tabula Rasa - and to this day, it’s the longest and most research-intensive fic I’ve ever written in English.

another fic I’ve co-written is the fantastically smutty Rising Tides which I worked on with the absolute master of E rated content: @seanfiction. Rising Tides itself, and stay with me here, is a story written by Marcius, a character from one of my books. but it’s not just any story, it’s porn he wrote of himself and a certain reptilian man he’s into, but in an alternate universe where they’re both pirates. it’s amazing and ridiculously self-indulgent and I love it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

that’s really hard to say cause I ship a LOT. recently I think Lacho has a special place in my heart.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

oh, DEFINITELY Strange Attractors! but the inspiration will have to come with the next season of BCS.

What are your writing strengths?

rambling, lol? people tell me I’m good at building atmosphere.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

maybe it’s the linguist in me speaking, but imho, if you wanna use a foreign language, you gotta treat it with respect. too many people treat foreign languages as nothing but sexy glitter you dust over your writing for decoration.

if you can, ask a native speaker for help. I try to do the same as often as I can. never, under ANY circumstances, rely on nothing but google translate. there are so many practical translation tools online, folks.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Pokemon lol. when I was around 12yo or so I wrote like, half a dozen fics that were just self-inserts going on Pokemon journey and nothing else.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

that’s probably Trip Wire. I feel like that one kinda got lost in the amount of Lacho fics I produced, never received any special attention, but I think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written. it’s got exactly the kind of energy that I try to go for with p much all of my writing, but rarely give myself credit for achieving.

#writing meme #meme #cw: suicide mention #cw: transphobia #cw: biphobia

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dearyallfrommatt · 3 years

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Don't y'all think this outlaw shit has done got out of hand?

This is something I wrote for Quora and it sort of got out of hand. The question asked if George Jones could be considered "Outlaw country." Fact of the matter is, George Jones is country music, so the question is meaningless. Anyhow. Enjoy.

The problem with the “Outlaw country” tag is that’s almost totally a marketing deal. Country music in the late ‘60s/early ’70s had gone through a lot of changes, but country music’s always changing. The honky tonk of Ray Price and Webb Pierce is a quantum leap from George Morgan.

The specific changes in country music of the Outlaw era, though, came as they often do from rock music. Like Elvis and Jerry Lee influenced the faster, more swinging sound of the late ‘50s, ’60s country was heavily influenced by songwriters like Bob Dylan, Mickey Newbury, and Kris Kristofferson, as well as the band dynamic of groups like the Beatles, the Stones, and the Byrds.

The term itself originates mainly because of the music coming from Tompall Glaser’s studio, Hillbilly Central. Formerly part of a brother harmony group that back Marty Robbins, Glaser’s studio became ground zero for musicians who liked to stretch themselves outside the Nashville limitations, like Waylon, Kinky Friedman, and Steve Young. Plus cocaine. Lots and lots of cocaine.

Another big issue was creative control. Willie Nelson had almost given up music by the early ’70s until Atlantic’s Jerry Wexler lured him back for two records and told him to go nuts. That gave us Shotgun Willie and Phases & Stages, the latter a concept album. Waylon Jennings was his label’s highest-selling artist, including any and all rock acts, but he was getting less than he felt was his fair share.

So around the same time the Hillbilly Central thing was going on, Waylon and Willie both renegotiated their contracts and demanded more control and more money. This basically led to Lonesome, Or’nry & Mean by Waylon and Red-Headed Stranger by Willie. Neither was supposed to sell, went the label, but both blew the doors off the sales charts.

Someone doing a story on Hillbilly Central asked publicist Hazel Smith what they called the music coming out of the studio. On the spur of the moment, she called it “outlaw country,” influenced somewhat by Waylon’s 1972 record Ladies Love Outlaws, itself a fairly standard Nashville product, ironically enough.

In 1976, RCA producer Jerry Bradley got the bright idea to put together a collection of previously released songs by Willie, Waylon, Tompall, and Waylon’s wife Jessi Colter, and called it Wanted: The Outlaws. The rest, as they say, is history. The record went platinum, the first country album to do so, selling a million copies before the end of the year and topping the charts for six weeks.

This opened the door for a lot of people to make a buck by calling themselves “outlaw country.” David Allen Coe had put out a couple of blues-rock records that were marketed towards bikers before becoming “The Mysterious Rhinestone Cowboy” and making a string of really groundbreaking stuff. Johnny Paycheck had been a Nashville product for almost a decade and then grew a beard, had a monster smash with the Coe-penned “Take This Job & Shove It,” and became rowdier than anyone thought a country singer could be. For a lot of other folks, like Bobby Bare, it was an excuse to ditch the clean-cut look Nashville demanded, literally letting their hair grow out, and start making records they wanted to make because there was money to be made in them. Hank Williams Jr. slipped out from under his momma’s thumb and began his domination of country music after falling off a mountain.

Amusingly, the musicians on the seminal Outlaw album really didn’t care much for the whole tag. Willie and Waylon both have expressed how people made too big a deal of it and how it distracted from the actual music they were making, especially when their “rebellion” had more to do with getting paid than “destroying Nashville.” It’s telling both became iconic figures in country music, with Willie, in particular, making records that were as far from the honk tonk as one could get. It also brought too much attention to their lifestyle, and especially, their drug use. The bust sang about in “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit Has Done Got Out Of Hand” lowered water levels in Nashville, Waylon later joked, because they’d flushed so many drugs before the cops got there.

As for George Jones, he is country music and if “Outlaw country” is part of that, he’s “Outlaw country.” He’s also a guy whose career has come back from the dead more than once because some Nashville producer saw a way to make money out of that incredible voice adjusting to the styles and fashions of the time. Like I said earlier, country music is always evolving and there will always be room for straight product and stuff that pushes the boundaries.

And as likely as not, they’ll share the same stage and go to the same all-night jam session after the show.

#George Jones #Waylon Jennings #Willie Nelson #Tompall Glaser #Jessi Colter #Outlaw country #country music #Wanted: The Outlaws #Kris Kristofferson #Bobby Bare #Johnny Paycheck #David Allen Coe #Jerry Bradley #Hank Williams Jr.#Hazel Smith #Hillbilly Central #Bob Dylan #Mickey Newbury #Hank Williams

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anti-reader-insert · 3 years

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Disclaimer:

I’m actually a Pro-Shipper. I’m not here to tell you what you can and cannot ship.

This blog is about anything not a Canon x Canon ship. This includes: Reader inserts, self-ships, imagines, etc.

This blog will also be about how much I hate Polyshipping / OT3+

Basically this is where I dump my personal shipping opinions.

FAQ:

“If you’re pro-ship, why are you anti-reader inserts??”

Because I find them uninteresting, creepy, gross, and a waste of perfectly good shipping potential for canon characters. Also because I have no emotional investments in your shallow excuse for a character. Be it OC, yourself, an imagine, or a random reader there’s no pre-existing emotional attachment there. I’m interested in seeing canon characters I care about bang, not a shallow faceless uninteresting generic excuse for a character I can’t relate to or enjoy the tiniest bit getting it on with a character I love who already has so much wasted shipping potential with literally any canon character in the source material. So yeah.

“Okay, so you don’t like it, why ruin the fun for others??”

Because there are certain fandoms where reader inserts make up the bulk of shipping fics and even sometimes, fanart. As tho no one gives a fuck about the canonical character dynamics. If there was more balance of content, I wouldn’t be so annoyed. If people tagged their shit properly I also wouldn’t be so annoyed.

“What about polyships then??”

That’s involving a personal trauma. Plus I just find them emotionally gross and a pack of lies. The only exceptions are, for both OCs and polyships, are straight up Mob x Canon because I like to see my faves suffer. So yeah.

“So you’re a pro-shipper, meaning you’re okay with all sorts of nasty shit in fiction but you choose to take issue with harmless reader inserts and loving polyships?? Why??”

Different strokes for different folks. Plus I’m not claiming anything moral about my stance. I’m not saying you’re a bad person for liking the shit I hate (boring, maybe, shallow too, but not bad). I’m very much pro freedom of speech and even tho I despise reader inserts and polyships to my core I will still defend your right to read / write them. But this doesn’t mean I can’t talk about how I fucking hate them personally. Basically, I’m not on a high horse casting moral judgement on anyone here. I’m all in favor of there being more nasty shit in fanfiction actually. That’s part of the wasted potential for me, personally, among other things. So yes that IS what I’m doing, in a sense.

“Why label is an anti blog if you’re a pro-shipper then?”

Because while anti’s are generally garbage people with garbage opinions and garbage dispositions who do terrible things... I cannot deny it’s a clear cut catchy shorthand for saying you don’t like shit. So it’s shorthand really. I do not condone harassment, death threats, or anything of that nature. Ever. I may rag on people and what they choose to ship, but I will never pretend to act like I’m morally superior for it. So while I am, sorta, anti certain things - I’m not an actual anti-shipper. Again this is due to the fact that I believe you can like whatever you want and I’m not trying to stop you.

“So what is the point of this blog then??”

Venting my frustrations. That’s pretty much it.

“Stop ruining my fun!!”

You ruin your own fun, bro. If my opinions bother you just block me. Personally I’d love to block every single reader insert, imagines, etc blog but it’s rare people accurately tag this bullshit. But if my opinions ruin your fun then your fun seems pretty fragile. Personally, if someone gave me shit about what I liked I’d just go read the shit they hate and move on with life. But hey, usually the people who do that to me are harping on about how terrible I am because of what I enjoy. I’m not doing that to you.

In short, welcome to my blog! If you happen to share my opinions then congrats you’re not alone after all! If you don’t share my opinions then perhaps you can take something away from this blog, or maybe not. If you’re here to give me shit because I hate your shit — why bother? I made it clear I’m not trying to stop you or anything.

If you have anymore questions or want to ask me personal shit, feel free.

As for the what to call me, eh idk, I guess “Chiyo” since that’s the name of my pfp character (from Murcielago in case anyone cares).

CLARIFICATION: As for the title “canon ships are always superior”, I mean canon x canon ships. Not just ships that are canon in canon.

#anti reader insert #reader insert #anti yumejoshi #yumejoshi #oc x canon #anti Polyshipping #polyshipping #really just tagging this post to get it out there I have no intention to flood the tags of people who enjoy this in the future #pro shipping #anti shipping

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or-ng-c-ss-dy · 3 years

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Hello I'm kind of craving Chuck/OC content atm so if you wouldn't mind sharing do you have any headcanons/booking fantasies/general thoughts about them?

im always craving content for them. i don’t think i’ve ever made a headcanon post before, but here goes nothing. have a mix of all three.

i’m gonna put it under a cut to not bother folks. also, some of it trends nsfw.

headcanons:

- chuck never makes oc drive and people have called him out on it. because he’s always like “okay, i’ll drive there and you can drive back” and the other person is like “we did that last time, make him drive”. chuck never has an excuse either, he just says no and that’s that.

- i dunno much about love languages and they kinda seem like nonsense, like the mbti thing for people who are getting some, but i just get the vibe that chuck’s is acts of service. like the aforementioned driving thing, but he also does whatever orange asks of him but also things he doesn’t have to ask cause they know each other.

- of course, they could both be touch considering how much they touch each other lol.

- chuck is always thinking about their size difference, whenever he has to reach for something on a higher shelf or when he catches oc swimming in one of his hoodies.

- speaking of size differences, chuck usually leans down to kiss orange but he’ll sometimes no-sell his “i want a kiss” face just because it’s cute to see him get up on his toes to try and get that kiss he wants.

- moving off of that, i think chuck wasn’t much of a kisser. but orange really likes it and could do it for hours, so chuck obliged but...as it turns out, he likes kissing just fine if he’s kissing orange.

- chuck’s favorite thing is when orange gets on top and rides him. of course, orange is usually too lazy for that, so it doesn’t happen often but, man, when it does...chuck’s riding (lol) that high for weeks.

- are they dating? who knows......chuck would say no, they’re just...friends. with benefits. who don’t see other people. and go out to restaurants and movies and other places, without other people, and they tend to switch off on paying for each other without splitting the bill...

- chuck’s definitely full blown, messy, awful, terribly in love with him though. even if he’s terrified of being Seen.

- speaking of dates, the waiter always puts the bill down in front of chuck. assigned top by the waitstaff.

booking fantasies:

> i mean....tag titles? hah, i dunno, i wouldn’t really want best friends to stop tagging together but i don’t think the bucks stole trent away from new japan for him to not have a solo career in aew. give me tag champion gentleman’s club and aew champ trent, why the hell not?

> not really a booking fantasy, but i love how aew leans into how he’s the pretty blond of the trio, like penelope to the gamer squad and allie to the butcher and the blade. and chuck’s more comparable to kip than miro so.....

> it’s just my favorite thing...pretty blonds...let them fight tho.

some general thoughts:

i’ve been in a lot of fandoms in my day but this has definitely been one of my favorites. i love writing these two, chuck is so much fun to write and orange can be such an enigma. plus, because of it, i’ve made a lot of really cool friends, and it’s been awesome to see the ship grow because of my friends (as well as people who i don’t personally know). i loved that i got this message because it makes me really happy that people are interested in this ship.

also, what the fuck did chuck mean in that video when he says that things would get ugly between them? there’s really only one meaning that could have, chuck told the world about how him and oc would get drunk together, get turned down by girls at bars, get take-out, and then fuck on oc’s couch.

i dunno...things would just get Ugly.....

hope these scratched your itch, anon!

#Anonymous

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years

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New Beginnings

Folks, here’s a new update of the wlw story set in the Sixties, my third miniseries of the wlw writing project. New beginnings have quite a lot in store for our stewardess MC!

The final Sixties miniseries update will be out either later this week or next week.

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

Previous Chapters: Living The Dream, The Girl Next Door

_____________________________

The following day I got my long awaited promotion: a generous rise and from now on only international routes for me. I made it to the big league. My world was crumbling underneath my feet but I made it. I received the news as a blessing. I followed the advice Nancy gave me when she called back to check in on me. A few days later I packed my stuff and crashed at a colleague's place: thank God, I made good friends among my former crew members and Joanna kindly agreed to host me while I looked for a new place to stay. Neither Nancy nor Jo know the full truth about the photographer who broke my heart, her sex: ironically, 'bastard' and other epithets are wonderfully neutral. Their sympathy and support helped me healing a little. It took time but, as Mom said when I accidentally let it slip during a call, I had my new beginning to focus on. I was the Pan Am stewardess every girl dreams to be one day.

I still remember the thrill that coursed through my veins as I boarded my first gigantic Boeing 712, destination Tahiti. I don't know how my voice kept appealing and steady as I explained the route and thanked the passengers for choosing Pan American Airways. I had to squeeze my colleague's hand when we took off as my heart was hammering out of the purest joy. Well, that's my life now. My parents and Nancy must have a collection of the postcards I send them from Rio, Honolulu, London, Rome, Berlin, Tokyo...you name a place on the map, I've probably been there at least once. I always send one to the address Noah gave us: I hope he receives them even if his letter are rare these days. I also sent him an autograph by Sandra Dee: last time I checked he had a big crush on her so I couldn't refrain myself when I bumped into her at a celebrity party our crew was invited to. She even pressed a lipstick kiss on the napkin when I told her my brother was a marine serving in Vietnam. I hope the war ends soon: despite what censorship cuts off from his letters, I know him and I know he's not happy there. I want my Noah back, his silly jokes and Rock Hudson look. I wish I would have spotted him waiting in line to check in for a flight to sunny Los Angeles instead of that photographer who "cared for me". I would have run at him full speed and he, turning at the right moment just like in the movies, would have waved at me and pulled me in a long swaying hug. "Long time no see, sister!" he would have laughed and we would have cried tears of joy uncaring of the people watching us. Then I would have ruffled his hair - how he hated that! - and guided him home, where he belonged, not sunny California nor Vietnam. I wasn't so lucky, I got the photographer instead. Despite a couple of years has now passed since that morning I walked out of her messy flat, she looks the same. For a moment I wondered if she'd succeeded in winning that girl's heart back. She's travelling solo as far as I can tell: either she's embarking on a new adventure or running towards someone she loves...or so she thinks. I find hard to believe she knows the difference. I kept walking towards my destination. I'm grateful she didn't see me: we don't have anything else to say to each other. We're strangers now. "Excuse me, ma'am, do you have a lighter?" My train of thoughts derails with the voice of another stranger. I turn my head to find a waitress leaning down on me with a cigarette in her hand. "Oh yes, sure" I pick up my lighter and light her cigarette. She takes a blow and exhales, thanking me. But to my surprise she doesn't walk away. After a moment, during which she probably debated whether to go for it or not, she speaks again. "Actually...do you mind if I join you...?" Her question lingers until I realize she's waiting for me to say my name. "Sadie" I say. "And please, suit yourself" As she takes a seat, I shake my head. "Forgive me, it's been a long day and usually people just read my name on the tag" "Well, Mom taught me not to stare at women's breasts because it's rude: 'look right in the eye and ask, my dear girl, right in the eye', she says" she jokes, shrugging. "How thoughtful!" I laugh and I don't do that just out of curtesy: she's genuinely funny. I take a look at her, I haven't noticed her before: how long she's been working here? To be honest, I hardly pay attention to airport clerks and waiters, I'm always on the go. "So, on a break....?" I add, letting my question lingers just as she did. "Oh yes, my shift started an hour ago but since there's no one here the boss gave us a little extra break-" "Nice but I was hoping to get your name too without looking disrespectfully at your breast, mademoiselle" We look at each other for a while then she burst into laughter and I follow. "Learning from the best, I see" she comments jokingly, catching her breath. "It's Kelsey" I bow my head lightly and we exchange a quick smile. "Pan Am, huh?" she nudges at my uniform as she inhales the smoke. "It shows?" I smile, striking a magazine cover pose that makes her laugh again. "Where did you fly to today? Or yesterday, I should probably say" "Paris" I say, in my best French accent. By the look of wonder that crosses her eyes I can tell she's never been there. Only heard of it. "Wow, romantic" she notes. I chuckle, finishing off my cigarette. "Paris is romantic only if you have a lover to stroll down the Seine with. I'm just a stewardess" I claim and well, it's true: the City of Love is not as romantic without a plus one, even if the girls and I had fun during our land off there, shopping, exploring and dining in lovely bistrot. "I thought you had a companion for your dreamy walk down the river" she shrugs, gesturing to the conspicuous teddybear in beret and striped shirt quietly sitting on a chair at my side. "Oh no, Monsieur Ted and I met in Montmarte. It was a...coup de foudre!" I comment, keeping my face straight long enough to make us both burst into another round of laughters. "It's a gift." I explain. "My best friend has a little girl, it's a gift for her. It's her birthday soon and I promised to be there, I'm sort of an aunt to her. I can't go empty handed and this guy looked nice" Nicole's face softens imperceptibly. "I'm sure she'll love it. I mean, I would have given everything to get a French teddy from my fancy aunt who flies around the world every day" I smile at the compliment. Was it a compliment? I like to think so. "How long have you been working here? I've been based here for a while but I'm afraid I don't remember you" I inquiry, hoping not to offend her. She exhales smoke and gestures it's nothing. "You flight crews are always in a hurry, we don't take it personally" Her lips quickly curl into a shy smile. "It's been a year. Well, it will be a year in a month" she explains. "It's not much but it's an honest job and just what I was looking for. The boss is fair enough and it helps paying the nurse school tuition" "Wanna be a nurse?" "Yeah, I've spent too much time with grandma during my childhood" she chuckles but the hint of a smile suggests she remembers that time quite fondly. "She worked as a nurse during the war and she used to tell me stories of back then...I'm not sure I was supposed to hear all of them but she kept talking. So I ended up being of those weird little girls who had a doll hospital in her bedroom and sew broken teddy bears to cure them. Nurse school sounded like the most logical choice" "That's sweet" I consider. "Why not a doctor though?" "Ah, I'm not sure about it...maybe in the future but I will be happy enough as a nurse, I think" I smile at her earnest answer as she continues nonchalantly. "Just like I'm quite happy now to see flight crews come and go and memorise their order-" "Oh, what's my usual order then?" I tease her. She takes a pause as if I caught her cheating then she guesses right: long black, no sugar, just a drop of milk. I tell her I wish I had her memory when I serve on board. "I'm sure you're doing just fine up there" she smiles encouragely. "And even when I'm not, a nice pair of legs and a charming smile will do the trick, won't they?" I sigh: I might not be too fond of certain looks I receive but that's how things go, I guess. At least, they saved me from getting complaints; on the contrary, on my first flight my supervisor was pleasantly impressed by my "impeccable manners and overall look" as she wrote down on my report. Kelsey opens the mouth to speak again - by the look on her face probably that she didn't mean it like that - but I anticipate her. It's how things go, she must know it too. When I worked at the diner, the costumers refrained from assessing me those looks or pinch me because they had too much respect for my parents. Most of them were long time friends as far as I can remember. So I was quite safe...I hope cute Kelsey is too. A silence falls between us. I immediately wondered if I said something wrong, I'm so used to uncomfortable silence filled with unsaid accusations and complaints that I tense up. But I soon realize that...it's okay. I did nothing wrong, she's silently agreeing with me and maybe pondering what to say next. A look filled with shy curiosity is on her face when she finally speaks again. "Can I ask you something?" "Shoot" She takes a pause as if she's still translating her own thought into words or wondering if she's not crossing a line with her curiosity. "Do you ever get homesick travelling all the time?" That's...not what I was expecting but after all, what was I expecting? Not sure how I can answer that. "Odd question to ask a stewardess" I note, rising my eyebrow and taking time. "I mean, you're always somewhere else, in between places and time zones...one might feels a bit homesick, lost maybe..." Then she shakes her head and falling back to her chair. "I'm sorry I'm just being nosey, that was a silly-" "No, it's an interesting question. I've never given that much thought... I don't know, I've never felt that way, I felt free when I boarded my first plane. I still do when I'm up there in the sky. I think most of us feel that thrill but it's just my point of view. My best friend once argued that mine is not real freedom just a - how did she call it? - oh yes, a strategic retreat so..." I chuckle, reminiscing the conversation Nancy and I had in the kitchen as I helped her with the dishes. The 'concerned sister' look she gave me, handing me a wet dish to dry. 'I'm not saying it's wrong or judging you, Sadie...I have no doubt you're living the exciting life you've always dreamed, God that every girl now dream. But you can't run away forever...' "Maybe it is different if you have something to come back to. That changes things, I suppose. Some miss family, their kids..." I continue. "And you? Do you have something to go back to?" Her question leaves me speechless and gaping. Sure, I have my parents, my friends, Nancy but she has a family of her own now as many others. My brother is far away and out of reach fighting in a war he never fully endorsed. "I don't know" I admit after a moment. Voices come from the main counter urging Kelsey to go back to work. She gives me an apologetic look before searching her pockets. "Well, while you keep looking and flying around the world, at least know that you're always welcome here" She lays a couple of cafe vouchers on the table; then she takes her leave with a gracious smile. "Sadie, Monsieur Ted...it's been a pleasure" "Likewise, Kelsey" I say, waving the teddybear arm. I should probably go home and get some rest: I wasn't joking when I said it's been a long day. I collect my vouchers, pay leaving a generous tip and head to the parking lot. When I wake up in my bed, it's getting dark outside. I brew the third coffee of the day and unpack my bag. As I collect my uniform for the laundry, the vouchers slip off the pocket I secured them into. I make to pick them up when I notice something handwritten behind one of them. I look carefully and it's a phone number with a little airplane doddle to the side. Call me ~ Kelsey

#wlw writing #wlw writing project #original work #wlw miniseries #lgbtq #sixties

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 6)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Words: 5518

Author’s Note: *Shuffles in, hijab haphazardly wrapped, wearing a fleece hoodie over rumpled pajamas, carrying a mug that reads “I write, what’s your superpower” and wearing one slipper.* Hey folks. So um. Yeah. I know it’s been, well, a LONG while. Apologies. I have no excuse other than this last semester of grad school and my part time gig kicked my ass, stole most of my free time, and possibly my left shoe. But I haven’t forgotten this fic or all of you incredibly wonderful and patient readers. And trust me when I say that I have made the wait worth it. Plus I’m on break now and already plotting out the next chapter, and I know exactly how I plan to progress with it, right down to the number of chapters left. Can I get a wahoo? *Yawns and takes a long drink of strongly brewed black tea* Once again, thank you SO much for your patience and love, and enjoy the lovelorn chaos from our favorite gays. ^_^ (also, if for some reason the tag link isn’t working for you, please let me know)

AO3

<=PREV

Chapter 6 - (POV Patton)

The fire in your eyes

Like a grave digger’s lantern

Your passion revives…me

“Gosh dang it, one syllable too many,” Patton muttered to himself over the notepad.

He felt a staccato of taps on his arm; a signal for when the world was silenced by Patton’s big headphones and Roman wanted to talk to him. He took them off, giving his soulmate his full attention. That was still so nice to say and put an actual face to. My soulmate.

“Problem, dear heart?” Roman asked from the seat next to him. The new term of endearment made Patton blush, but he loved it.

“Nah, just tweaking a new haiku,” he said. “I want it to be perfect for my muse.”

Now Roman was the one blushing. “Well I’m sure when it’s done it will be as wonderful as everything else that’s made by your hands.”

It had been barely two days since he and Roman discovered they were each other’s soulmates (or at least one of them), but since then they had spent every spare moment getting to know each other. From walking to classes together to spending free periods together, and Patton’s mother had even insisted on inviting Roman over for dinner just last night. When Roman had complimented the pasta Patton helped cook, saying he could taste the love poured into each noodle, his heart felt near to bursting. It was such a short amount of time getting to know each other, yet Patton felt as though he’d known Roman for eons all throughout past lives.

Who knew being with your soulmate could make you feel so alight inside?

“Thank you for sneaking me your Tupperware of leftovers, Patton,” said Roman, covertly twirling his plastic fork into the spaghetti under their table.

“No problem, kiddo,” said Patton.

Technically they weren’t allowed food in the library during study hall except for water. Unless you had a blood sugar problem or something. Still, Patton was willing to break a tiny rule if it was for his soulmate’s well being. And maybe myself, he thought, sneaking bites from the napkin cookies on his lap.What? He’d had an Algebra test that morning. He earned a treat or two.

“Mom’s right, I do need to pack fuller lunches. I don’t know what’s up with my appetite lately. Least I’ve still got my figure.

“Maybe it s a puberty thiiiiiohmygosh it’s him.”

“Him who?”

“Look, but don’t look, over your shoulder.”

Roman sneakily looked over his shoulder and saw what Patton meant. It was Logan Berry, in all his brilliant glory, pulling out a book from the chemistry section. He looked lovely as always in a cream colored blouse, mint green skirt, and cherry blossom patterned neckerchief. The yellow gems of his bumblebee hair clip glittered under the ceiling light as it kept the ebony bangs out of his eyes.

Yet there was something off about Logan today. His face was neutral as always, but Patton noticed there was something slightly somber in his posture.

“Isn’t that supposed to be the school genius or something?” Roman asked.

“Debate club president,” Patton said wistfully.

“I’ve heard about his through tech club. He is really pretty! In a nerdy way.”

“Yeah, he sure is a lovely creature of nature.” Patton said with a sigh.

They must have been whispering louder than he realized, because suddenly Logan’s head was turned, and he was looking curiously at Patton. Oohhh gosh golly. He half hid behind his copy of Wuthering Heights.

“Patton my dear, you sound positively smitten.” Roman said, turning back around. “Not that I blame you really.”

Patton chuckled, unable to stop staring at his crush. “Guilty. Have been for awhile.”

“Say, you don’t suppose Logan could be one of our mysterious shared soulmates, maybe the one from yesterday, do you?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think we have the same lunch time as—Ohhh Lemony Snickett, he’s coming this way!”

“What? Here? Now? Does my hair look good?”

Patton considered himself to be pretty good at reading people on an emotional level, but Logan was usually like a tightly bound journal, difficult to look into. Except this time it was clear he did not look too happy with them. Before he could gage deeper as to why, Logan was at their table. Patton had never been this close to Logan before, never had the chance to make real mutual eye contact.

Logan’s stoic gaze went back and forth between them. His brave little Prince was mumbling Disney lyrics under his breath and clearly trying so hard not to clam up. Guess it’s up to me. Patton grasped for some sort of ice-breaker good enough for Logan. Something friendly, intelligent and totally not off-putting like he normally was.

“Umm…cookie?” Patton asked, holding up his cookie napkin in peacemaker offering.

“I don’t appreciate being stared at and spoken about behind my back.” Logan said sharply, staring pointedly at him.

“So that’s a no on the cookie.” Patton said, shrinking back.

“If you have something to say, you can express your mockeries to my face, because frankly I am in no mood for ignoring judgmental comments today.”

Ouch! Logan had never come across as the friendliest person ever, but Patton was definitely not expecting him to speak so coldly upon their fist meeting. And it hurt. Or it would have more so if Patton couldn’t tell from the look in Logan’s eyes that he was actually upset about something more than just people whispering.

“H-hey, don’t talk to my soulmate like that!” Roman said, voice cracking. He was loud enough to be shushed from another table. Yet for once, Roman didn’t duck his head down in shyness. “I-in fact, you shouldn’t talk to anymore like that, or make such harsh assumptions yourself, Mister Sub-Astute-Teacher.”

Logan turned to Roman. “I beg your pardon?”

“We weren’t gossiping about you, or whatever it is you think we were doing. If anything we were complimenting you. I mean- well yeah-yes! We were. But that was before you came at us so rudely with your negative assumptions. Just because you’re the debate club president or whatever doesn’t give you the right to talk to people like that.”

Wow. Patton had never had someone stand up for him like that before. And he’d never seen Roman be so, well, unabashedly vocal, even when people were watching. I am so proud!

Logan looked taken aback, ashamed even. “I-I apologize.”

“Yeah, you should, Blaise Pastel. And another...thing?” Roman cut himself off suddenly.

Patton was about to ask Roman what was wrong when he felt the tell tale tingle on his arm. He pulled up his sleeve and sure enough, another new soulthought was there, tattooed in navy blue ink: ‘Hm. Brontë. Excellent taste.’

“Patton,” Romans said, tapping him excitedly. “Look!”

On Roman’s arm in the same navy blue read: ‘Interesting sweater choice.’ They beamed at each other. There was no doubt about it.

Then Logan coughed, and when they turned to look at him, he too was holding out his arm on display. Beneath two purple and sky blue soulmarks, the latter of which Patton recognized as his own, were letters in bright red: ‘Nerd—Pretty—Pretty nerd.’

“Well. It would appear that we have much to discuss. May I?” Logan asked, gesturing to an empty chair at their table.

Patton checked wordlessly with Roman if he was okay with it. The drama techie nodded. “Please.”

Logan pulled out the chair across from them and smoothed out his skirt as he sat. “So. It seems that we are all ineffably bonded to one another, judging from the matching color palettes in our soul thoughts. And you both are...”

“We’re together,” said Roman, reaching for Patton’s hand on the table and lacing their fingers. “We found each other just two days ago.”

Something flashes across Logan’s face, but it was gone before Patton could read more into it. “That is...quite fortuitous.”

“And we’d love for you to be apart of this too.” Patton said. “That is, if you’d be comfortable with that. We wouldn’t dare bind your heart to ours, regardless of being soulmates, if it wasn’t something you also wanted.”

“Or if you ended up being a jerk.”

“Roman!”

“Well he—

“It’s quite alright, um, Patton was it?” Logan asked. Patton nodded yes. “Roman is within his right to feel how he does. I did not exactly make the best first impression.”

“You can say that again.” Roman muttered.

“Now Roman, you and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot either. In fact it left a lot to be desired.” Pattona said.

“But he—

“Deserves just as much a chance as we did. He is our soulmate after all. Alright?”

“Yes, dear.”

A low chuckle from Logan caught them both off guard. The beautiful brainy boy was covering his mouth demurely. The sight of Logan, who’d always been so sharp and alabaster cold, so softened by just his laughter alone was breathtaking. It set moths fluttering about in Patton’s tummy.

“What’s so funny?” Roman asked, brows furrowed.

Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his Warby Parkers. Hey, we have the same glasses!

“Apologizes, I am not laughing at you,” Logan said. “It is merely that, well, for a moment there your bickering reminded me of my mothers. Which is quite remarkable given how, as you’ve said, you two have only known each other for two days.”

“Aw gee, it’s sweet of you to say that we remind you of your moms, Logan.” Patton said.

To think he and Roman already sounded like an old married couple. Sure it was all fast and new to him still, but he couldn’t help delighting at it. Would he get to share this same sort of bond with Logan? With his fourth unknown soulmate? He sure hoped so.

Still, he was so different from Roman. Even though Patton had been crushing on Logan fort ages, he seemed to have a much thicker wall. Could Patton ever be good enough to be invited in?

“So I take it from your reaction that you are not among the school’s percentage of ignoramuses that take offense to LGBT folk, such as myself and my mothers?” Logan asked.

“Pshh, puh-lease! I’m about as straight as this spaghetti,” said Roman, holding up a limp noodle hanging off his fork.

“You do know food is prohibited in the library.”

“And my brother Remus is a regular Ace of spades.” Roman continued, ignoring Logan. “Not that you’d ever guess it, with all the crude jokes he makes on his podcast.”

“Brother?” Patton and Logan asked.

“Trust me, the less you know about that internet troll the better.”

“As for me, said Patton, “well, just fry an egg on my head and call me pan.”

Roman nearly choked on his bite of food, cough laughing. Patton offered his bottle of water to him. Logan tilted his head to the side.

“Fry an—what? That isn’t—pan?” If there was a lightbulb over Logan’s head, it would have just clicked. “Oh good lord, was a that a pun comparing pansexuality to cookware?”

“Heh, guilty,” said Patton. “I’ve got ‘em by the dozens.”

Roman seemed to like Patton’s jokes, but Logan not so much. Patton had been trying real hard to make his jokes less dry and dark. Did Logan just not like puns, or did he not like him? Patton so wanted Logan to like him.

“Tawdry wordplay aside, I’m please to find that at least some of my soulmates are not ashamed to be themselves, unlike...”

Patton turns to Logan concerned, but he merely opened his book to a random page and pretended to read it. He was clearly holding something back, but Patton didn’t want to push him into talking. He already felt like on thin ice.

“Unlike who?” Roman asked. “Does it have to do with your soulmate?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” said Logan, not looking up.

Roman rolled his eyes. “The one with the purple writing. Don’t think I didn’t notice that. Patton and I both have thought tattoos in the same color, and if you know who are third soulmate is, then don’t you think we have a right to know who they are as well?”

Logan closed the book. He looked at them for a moment, then sighed. “That is more than fair. Alright. It’s...”

He leaned in close to them, and in a low voice whispered a name that Patton was surprised to hear.

“VIRGIL!?” Roman shouted. Logan palmed his forehead.

A neighboring table shushed them and at least two students milling about the stacks gave them odd looks. Patton tugged his hat down and Roman slunk down bashfully. Baby steps, Roman. Baby steps. They probably would’ve gotten more than odd looks if not for Logan giving the more nosy students a steely glare.

“Would you kindly think before you open your infinitesimally loud mouth next time?” Logan asked.

He knows that word actually means really small, right? Patton thought.

“Well excuse me for being shocked that the Stormcloud of South Bay High is our mysterious soulmate.” Roman said, using his backstage voice. “I mean, look at us and look at him.”

“I have,” Logan said.

“And you’re still in one piece? After being alone with an unnerving ruffian like him?”

“FALSEHOOD!”

The sudden outburst startled Patton nearly out of his skin, and Roman actually fell out of his seat, spaghetti almost flying. The school librarian shushed Logan pointedly, and he apologized to her profusely, being luck enough to to get off with just a warning as her model library goer.

“He is not like that.” Logan said. “Yes, he is among the athletic clique but he is by no means a brute. He is intelligent and sweet and...gentle.”

“It’s true Roman,” said Patton. “I haven’t talked to him much myself, but I sit behind him in English Lit., and he’s never been mean to anyone in class.”

Patton pictured the anxious kiddo in his mind. How fidgety he got, the way his back tensed when being called on even if he knew the answer, and especially the lost lonely look in his eyes.

“Actually, when he’s not huddled in with his buddies, Virgil’s even more awkward than you can be.”

“Augh!” Roman gasped offendedly. “Patton, you wound my pride. Wait, was that a compliment or?”

“Does that mean you’ve talked with Virgil then?” Patton asked Logan.

“Indeed. We officially met—coincidentally—on Wednesday, realized we are soulmates, and spent Study Hall yesterday getting to know one another. It was quite...enjoyable.”

Then something happened that Patton would’ve gone so far as to call a little miracle: he saw Logan smiling. It was small but softened his angular face oh so nicely. Seeing Logan’s smile was like watching a sunrise. If Patton hadn’t been in puppy love with Logan before he definitely was now.

Then the overcast came, and stone faced Logan was back. “That is until some of his neanderthal brethren in lettermen’s happened upon us, and Virgil revealed the coward he truly is; ashamed of himself and ashamed of me.”

The three of them went quiet, their snacks and studies long forgotten. The library clock ticked away, turning pages crinkled like autumn leaves, and somewhere somebody was not so sneakily smoking a joint. Of course his brave little Prince would be the first to break the silence.

“Sooo I take it that Virgil is deeper in the closet than Narnia,” said Roman.

“Precisely. And I refuse to belittle my self-worth by wasting my time on anyone who does not have the courage to be themselves, let alone be associated with me simply because I am not of the same socially constructed high school status. I told him as much before leaving with my dignity intact.”

Patton tried to process this new information. It hurt his heart to hear the bitterness in Logan’s words, especially when he was so obviously trying to hide how hurt he really was. Yet even so...

“I understand where you’re coming from Logan, and I’m sorry that happened to you. But,” Patton bit his bottom lip, “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on Virgil?”

Logan raise a sharp eyebrow at him. “In what way am I being harsh?”

“Because, well, it’s not really your place to say when or how ‘out’ somebody should be. Even if he is your—our—soulmate.” Patton sat up straighter, blowing the curly bangs out of his eyes. “I mean, you probably came to this school already out of the closet, right? You’re used to to knowing how to handle yourself and others when they might talk bad about you. So it’s probably easier to feel like you’ve got the Pride high ground.”

“I...suppose I hadn’t considered it in that light.” said Logan. “Astute.”

“Yeah, top notch analysis there, Patton-cake,” said Roman.

“And yeah, we’ve got a modest little LGBT club and a small portion of the school has not so nice views of queer people,” Patton continued. “Which makes sense, I mean, this isn’t exactly New York. But you’ve gotta understand that Virgil is smack dab in the middle of that crowd. He probably feels like it might not be as safe for him to be out as it would be for someone like you; the debate club champ and smartest kid in school who’s also in good standing with the teachers. ...Or someone like me; the creepy emo kid that everyone treats like a ghost or is too scared of to bother with anyways.”

Lonely as it was, being invisible did have its advantages. Patton felt Roman wrap a deceptively strong arm around him, nothing but tenderness in his eyes. Well, not so invisible anymore. Patton smiled and leaned his head on Roman’s broad shoulder.

“Honestly, I see Patton’s point. Sure, I get teased by those guys all the time for being perceived as gay—not that they’re wrong—but people have picked on me for plenty of other reasons over the years.”

Roman paused for moment, using one hand to wipe his large glasses on his swirly patterned sweater vest.

“Look at me. I’m a scrawny, shy, Disney obsessed theater nerd, and not even one of the leading actor elites. I knew going in that I was bound for the bottom of the social food chain no matter what I did, so I figured, why not at least allow myself to be my full rainbow self, albeit quietly? Sure, I haven’t officially come out yet, but it’s not like I’d have much more to lose when I do. But Virgil? He has everything to lose.”

Logan sat back in his chair, mulling over their imput. Pattons was worried that he might have offended Logan somehow. He wasn’t storming away from their table, so that was a good sign. Maybe Patton should apologize anyways.

BRIIIING

Study hall was officially at an end. Students packed up their bags, and returned or checked out books. Meanwhile the librarian ushered any stragglers out so she could prepare the space for any Friday electives that would be taking place there.

“I have to get to class,” said Logan, gathering his things. “It was good meeting you both. You’ve given me much to think about. Perhaps we might converse again sometime?”

“No problem Specs. Where are you off to next?” Roman asked, closing up the Tupperware and hanging it back to Patton.

“Um, U.S. History,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses.

“With Mr. Terrence? Me too.” Roman grabbed his classic Mickey backpack. “Maybe we can, um, walk over there together? I mean, since we’re headed the same direction.”

“I have no objections with that.”

“Onward then. Farewell, Patton dear.”

“Bye Roman. Uh, Logan, I—“

Before Patton could say anything more, his two soulmates were on their way out. With a sigh he grabbed his writing journal, book, and backpack before heading out himself in the opposite direction for his last two classes of the day. He had English Lit with Miss Valerie next. And Virgil, he thought, pulling his headphones over his ears. It was high time he and Virgil spoke for real.

* * * * *

Patton watched the clock on the wall tick tock away the last few minutes of class He gripped his stretched sleeve end into a black and grey paw with one hand, and doodled furiously in his notebook margins with the other. Did I overstep my boundaries? Patton wondered for the hundredth time since the middle of class. In front of him, Virgil nervously bounced his knee and kept chewing on his cuticles, sending a twinge of guilt through Patton’s chest.

Halfway through class while Miss Valerie was writing out notes on the board, he had carefully tossed a folded note onto Virgil’s desk. Luckily he’d always been more of a thrower than a catcher. The anxious athlete saw the slip of paper, unfolded its contents, and went rigid. He’d cast a quick wide eyed glance over his shoulder at Patton before turning back to the front. Virgil hadn’t looked at him again since.

BRIIIING

“Alright class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget, your essays about the symbolic significance of the Moores in Brontë‘s novel are due next week,” said Miss Valerie.

While the rest of the class rushed to leave, he and Virgil lingered behind, packing their backpacks slower till the coast was clear. They stood up at the same time, Patton clutching his journal to his chest, and Virgil hunched awkwardly.

“Hey, is there some place we can’t talk? Privately?” Vigil asked, his voice gravelly.

“Mhm. Just uh, follow me.” Patton said.

They walked out the classroom and through the crowded hallways, Patton in the lead and Virgil following a foot behind. Murmurings of between bells chatter and tinny locker taps filled his ears. Two hallways later, Patton pulled Virgil round a courier and into the Nurses Office.

Flickering fluorescent ceiling lights cast shadows around the off-white walls. The only decorations were an anatomy poster, a poster of a cute bat dressed in a nurse’s cap, and the skeleton onesie clad teddy bear Nurse Talyn kept for students in emotional distress. Patton called him Mr Fluffybones. There were chairs, a sickbed, and a filing cabinet next to the supply closet. The office always smelled of rubbing alcohol, but it was clean, quiet, and most of all private. Talyn was a colleague of Emile’s so they let him stay in here on his bad days for as long as he needed to.

“Patton, it’s ten minutes till classtime.” Nurse Talyn said from their desk, their horn-rimmed glasses sliding down their nose. “Do you have a pass for another breather? Or is there something your friend needs help with?”

“No, nothing like that Talyn,” Patton said, smiling at the word ‘friend.’ “Virgil and I just needed someplace private to talk for a bit.”

“You know I’m not supposed to let students be in here unless they’re feeling unwell.”

“Pleeeese? We’ll head right to class afterwards. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Then, Patton unleashed his most secret of secret weapons, used for emergencies only and rarer than a red moon: the puppy Pat pout. When Talyn saw his pouty bottom lip and big eyes, their mouth went lemon tight. They only resisted for a few seconds before an audible groan told Patton he’d one this round.

“Ugh, fine! You get five minutes while I go restock my bandaid jar.” Talyn took a not even half empty jar with them as they went to the supply closet. “I blame Emile for teaching you that puppy dog pout. It should be illegal.”

“Thanks Nurse Talyn!” Works every time.

Patton turned around to where Virgil stood behind him, hands in the oversized letterman jacket and a crooked smirk on his face. If Patton didn’t know better, he would think Virgil looked almost impressed.

“We can talk privately now, don’t worry.” Patton said.

“Worry’s my middle name but, okay. So uh, about this.”

Virgil took a deep breath and pulled from one pocket a crumpled note. He unfurled is, words facing up: ‘I know you’re my soulmate. We all do. Can we talk?’

Standing in front of him now, seeing the dark bags under his wide eyes, Patton thought that Virgil looked so small and vulnerable. All shelled up in his too big jacked, clutching that paper between his shaking skinny fingers. He just wanted to hold the poor thing close and protect him from every nasty thing in this world. Instead he settled for smiling as warmly as possible, hoping to help Virgil feel more at ease.

“Just tell me first,” Virgil’s hands fidgeted. “By ‘we’ you mean my other soulmates and not, y’know, the whole school? I hope? Not that I think you’d out me or anything; you’re not like that. Not that I’d assume what you’re like, I jus—

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, kiddo.” Patton said, making his voice gentle. “I do mean our soulmates, and of course your secret is still safe with us.”

Upon hearing this though, Virgil’s whole body relaxed. “Heh, you really do say ‘kiddo.’ So how’d you find out?”

“Logan ran into Roman and me in the library earlier. We got to chatting and figured out the four of us are all soulmates.”

Virgil gave a low whistle. “I knew you guys were my soulmates but geez. All four of us? Fate must have a weird sense of humor.”

“Our gossamer spider-silk threads of fate are interwoven into one intricate home for our four hearts to feast upon entangled love.”

Patton mentally winced. Way to get weird and dark again Patton. Wait, he’s...smiling. Oh gosh, I really have a thing for nice smiles, don’t I?

“Wow Pat, that was...really lovely. And just the right amount of creepy. I dig it.”

Lovely? Me? Patton smiled, his freckled cheeks feeling warm all of a sudden. I knew you would be kind.

“I meant what I thought, by the way,” said Virgil. “You really do have gorgeous eyes.”

“And you really need to stop calling yourself an idiot,” said Patton.

Virgil chuckled, then looked down at his purple sneakers. “Did um...did Logan tell you about what happened?”

Patton rubbed his arm. “Yeah, he did.”

“So then you probably hate me, right? Argh, stupid question. Of course you do. Or at least Logan does. He probably thinks I’m just another stupid jerk athlete. Roman too. Not that I blame him after the number of times I’ve just stood by like an idiot and—

“I will physically fight you if you keep talking bad about yourself, Mister!”

The sharp outburst startled Virgil into shutting up. Patton didn’t often use his papa bear voice (as him mom called it) outside of the house or with anyone besides his younger cousin Elliot. But he couldn’t stand hearing Virgil talk that way about himself for another second. There was only room for one self deprecating soulmate in their group, and that was him.

“Logan doesn’t hate you Virgil. None of us do.” Patton said. “He’s upset still, sure, but never hate. And I told him that what he said to you was probably a little too harsh.”

Virgil’s head shot up. “You did?”

“Mhm. Of course his feelings were valid, but that couldn’t have been an easy situation for you either. Being in the closet is a pretty scary time, and the anxiety probably doesn’t help with it either.”

“H-how did you?”

“My godfather’s a therapist. Got pretty good at picking up on the signs from talking with him. Besides, you’re not the only one with a monster living between their ears.”

Patton rolled up his left sleeve, showing the tally marks of all the times he’d managed to come back out of the darkness and stand in the sunlight again. Virgil gave a quiet gasp, but Patton refused to turn away in shame from his soulmate, even if he did look at him with pity. When he met Virgil’s eyes however, they were filled with understanding.

In a bittersweet sort of way, it made Patton feel happy.

“I’m not saying you have to come out for us. Or go public, or do anything you’re not ready for yet. I just want you to know that we’re here for you when you are ready. And,” Patton held out his hand in offering, “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

He expected Virgil to take his handshake, maybe say thanks and offer to talk outside of school sometime. Maybe.

He did not expect Virgil to take his wrist in a gentle calloused grasp, turn his arm upward, bend down, and place a soft kiss on his scars.

It was sudden. It was impulsive. It was an act of pure reverence that set Patton’s pulse point thrumming faster than a hummingbirds heartbeat.

And judging from the look on his face, it shocked the hell out of Virgil just as much. He snatched his hand back as though his touch might burn Patton.

“I’m sorry! That was—I should’ve asked—-out of line. I—NGK!”

“Virgil, wait!”

Too late. Just as someone else was coming in, Virgil was running out the door, nearly knocking the other person over.

“WOah! Where’s the fire babe?” they asked.

Virgil paid him no mind. Didn’t even seem to hear him. Once again, Patton’s soulmate was gone before he could even try to make things right.

“Guess he’s got the runs or something. Ngh-ow. Forget it. Head hurts too much to care right now.”

The student who’d just come in was also wearing a letterman jacket, and their fingers hovered over a mean looking bruise near their temple. It took a second for Patton to recognize from the sunglasses who he was.

“You’re one of Virgil’s friends, Remy, right?” Patton asked.

Remy jumped, not realizing Patton was there. “His best friend, thank you very much. And who wants to knoOOHhhh I see. You’re one of his secret soulmates he won’t tell me about!”

Patton followed Remy’s eye line leading to his still uncovered arm. He quickly pulled his sleeve back down, blushing scarlet hot and hid behind his bangs. Remy chuckled.

“You know I gotta say, not at all what I pictured, but you are a cute little black kitten,” Remy said with a grin.

“Do you know where Virgil might’ve run off to? I want to go after him, but I need to get to class soon. Oh, it was all going so well, but maybe he thought he crossed a line and I’d be upset, but I’m not! He looked just short of a panic attack and I just...is he going to be okay?” Patton could’ve cried he was so worried.

Remy gave him a long unreadable once over, then sighed. “Look, if I know Virgil—and I do—then he’s either gone to the gym to blow off some steam, or holed himself up somewhere private where he can calm down. He doesn’t like people seeing his anxiety get the better of him if he can help it. Say it makes people uncomfortable.”

“Mental health isn’t anything to be embarrassed by, or of.”

Patton must have passed some sort of test, because Remy finally gave him a genuine smile of approval and lifted his sunglasses atop his head.

“Totes babe. Look, right now I gotta see a nurse about this goose egg hatching on my head, but I’ll try to look for him after. Kay? Ow!”

Patton signed. “Thank you Remy.”

“You still here, Patton?” Nurse Talyn called, coming out from the supply closet with an armload of bandaid boxes, a bad of cotton swabs, and a now full jar. “The second bell is about to ring. You need to get—“

They looked around the room, spotted Remy, and dropped their arms. Their face fell flat, along with the rest of the things they’d been carrying. Good thing that jar was plastic.

“Remy Dormier, did you fall asleep and hit your head in the hallway again?” Nurse Talyn asked, looking just about done with everything.

“Nope. Track field. Bottom bleacher,” said Remy, wincing and he touched the spot.

“That is the FOURTH time this week! That’s it.” They pulled out a crushable ice pack from their desk drawer and handed it to Remy. “You, on the bed while I call your parents. We have GOT to get a script from your Doctor for this obvious narcolepsy problem of yours. Patton, get to class. Go on, shoo!”

Not wanting to endure the tiny wrath of Talyn in full nurse mode, Patton left. Not before getting a wink from Remy that did little to lift his spirits. He speed walked to his last class of the day, but home economics was the last thing on his mind. He could still feel the kiss from before like a memory on his skin.

I hope he’ll be okay.

General Tag: @quoth-the-sparrow @altruistic-skittles @em-be-lievable @justisaisfine @broadwaytheanimatedseries @thekeytohappiness-is-you @jynxlovesluck @queer-human-being @phlying-squirrel @ab-artist @grey-lysander @a-valorous-choice @xx-fandom-potato-xx @impatentpending @book-of-charlie @randomslasher @tinkslittlebelle @insanelycoolish @ironwoman359 @icecoldparadise @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6 @hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox @smokeyrutilequartz @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton @notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @unikornavenger @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @backatthebein @mephonic @paperghastly @ravenclawangst @iamtrashcans @loganberrysanders @ierindoodles @a-new-witch-in-learning @punsterterry @goldteethandacurseforthistown @dragonsight9 @your-average-pangirl

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#KDsWriting #First Impressions AU #romantic lamp #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #LAMP #Patton Sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #polysanders #Soulmate au #soulmark au #soulmate tattoo #tw scars #no pasta was harmed in the making of this fic

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