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agerestorybits · 3 years

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I’m not little I swear!

Roman was laying on his stomach on the floor coloring as disney music played in the background. His door left open in case anyone needed him. He looked up when he heard a knock on the door frame. Virgil stood there more, awkward than normal.

Roman smiled, “What brings you to my domain dark night?” Roman asked, shifting so he was sitting up.

Virgil stepped in hands in his hoodie pockets. “I...noticed that you...Well.” Virgil gestured to the coloring book on the floor.

“And? Would you like to join me?” Roman asked, already summoning a second coloring book for Virgil. Nightmare before Christmas themed.

Virgil relaxed a little, “Yeah. I would. Thanks.” He sat down on the floor and pulled out a crayon from the pile on the floor.

Roman went back to coloring. They both worked in silence for a while before Virgil spoke up. “Just so you know..Um..I am too.”

Roman looked up at him. Virgil glanced at the coloring book again. What? An artist? Why didn’t he just say that? Was he embarrassed? Scared Roman would be mad at him. Roman smiles reassuringly, “Trust me when I say there is no problem with that. If anyone gives you any grief about it they’ll have me to mess with.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say as Virgil smiled a bit. “Thanks.” They went back to coloring. After a half hour Virgil finished his picture and stood. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Indeed!” Roman agreed. “The sooner the better!”

Virgil shifted on his feet, “So...you don’t mind if I tell Logan and Patton about..this? Do you? I mean if you want to tell them yourself-”

“I would never tell them something if you wanted me to keep it secret.” Roman promised. Why Virgil was making such a big deal about coloring he had no idea. He didn’t really understand Virgil that much but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to support him. “Tell they if you want. Do I need to be there for you?”

Virgil smiled again, “nah. It’s cool. I’ve got it….thanks.”

“Well good luck!” Roman said.

“I might need it.” Virgil muttered as he left. Roman rolled his eyes, Virgil could be so over dramatic. And that was coming from him!

Roman went back to coloring.

---

Virgil took a breath before blurting it out. “I age regress.” Patton and Logan looked at him. “So does Roman!” He added before they could say anything.

“Oooookay?” Patton said. “What’s that?”

Logan gave a brief explanation. “In all honesty I’m not surprised about Roman.”

“It does make sense.” Patton agreed.

“Yeah.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, “So um..Alright. I was wondering if you weren’t too weird out by this-”

“Not at all.” Logan said.

“Full support kiddo!” Patton added.

“Thanks...Would one or both. I’m not going to pick..And if you don’t want to I won’t hold it against you or anything! I just..”

“Virgil.” Logan said, “Breath.”

“Will you be my caregiver….ers?” He asked in a small voice.

“Of course!” Patton said. He turned to Logan. “What is that?”

“Patton don’t agree to things you don’t know about.” Logan said before giving an explanation.

Patton frowned, “I thought I was already taking care of you.”

“I mean. While I’m little.” Virgil clarified.

“Well duh! I’m not going to stop just because you need a LITTLE extra help!” Patton said brightly.

“I agree to help.” Logan said.

Virgil smiled. This was going better than he expected.

---

Roman was...confused. He wasn’t going to say anything in case he insulted Virgil but...He didn find it weird that he was wandering around in the middle of the day in a onesie with a..was that a pacifier????

Even stranger was Logan and Patton took it in stride and even seemed to think that Roman wanted to do that too.

Was this a prank? A joke he didn’t get? Was he supposed to comment on it?

“Are you sure you don’t want to try a paci?” Patton asked.

“Err...no thanks pat.” Roman said holding up a hand.

“Patton, he might not be little right now.” Logan said.

Little??? What?? “Alright what is going on? Am I missing something? I feel like I’m missing something.” Roman said.

“You don’t have to hide it. Virgil told us!” Patton said.

“It wasn’t like you were trying that hard to hide it.” Logan said.

“Hide what?” Roman asked. Was this about the art thing? What did that have to do with dressing in a onesie?

“About your age regression.” Patton said.

“My...what?” Logan and Patton glanced at each other.

“You really don’t need to hide it.” Logan assured him. “As you can see we have already accepted Virgil for it. We aren’t going to judge you.”

“We can even take care of you too if you want!” Patton said excitedly. “Oh! You two could have playdates!”

“Back up. What is age regression? And Virgil said I did that?” Roman said. He wasn’t going to argue with Virgil….Yet.

Logan gave him an in depth description of age regression which raised more questions than it answered.

Why did Virgil think he age regressed? Did he age regress and not know? No he was very sure that he didn’t age regress. He just liked to do kid activities. That wasn’t the same thing!

Roman shook his head, “I don’t age regress.”

Patton crossed his arms, “Now Roman lying isn’t a good habit.”

Roman blinked in surprise. “I’m not lying??”

“Do you need to go in time out?”

Roman froze. WHAT?

“Alright. Call me when you aren’t acting crazy.” He said leaving.

“Roman!”

He kept walking. He wasn’t watching where he was going; he was just getting out of a situation that was crazier than he liked.

Speaking of crazy.

Remus looked up as Roman entered the Dark side common rooms. He was hanging upside down over the back of the couch eating a confetti. “Oh. What are you doing here?” He’s mouth is full of colorful paper.

Roman groaned and collapsed on the couch next to his brother. “I just had the strangest conversation.” He threw himself into the story of what just happened as Remus half listened but paid more attention the more Roman talked about…

“Little space! I mean what even is that??”

Remus was silent for a solid minute. “I mean...I do that.”

“You do?” Roman asked.

“Yeah! I mean.” Remus flipped off the couch onto the floor then jumped to his feet, spilling the confetti in the process. “It’s great! No filter! No worries about anything!”

“Isn’t that you normally?” Roman asked.

“Well… I mean I’m a bit more...PG when it happens but other than that….yeah.” Remus said before offering Roman some of the small amount of confetti that remained in the bag. “Want some.”

“No thanks. So if you regress….Do you have someone who watches you? Like..a caregiver?”

Remus’ face dropped. “I asked Janus but...turns out I’m a ‘bit much’ for him. So...no.”

“Oh.” Roman frowned. Thinking through his offer. “Well Logan and Patton seem to want someone else to take care of.”

Remus snorted and threw himself down on the couch again. “You’re kidding right? There’s no way they would watch me. No one would.”

“I would.” WHY DID HE SAY THAT? He almost took it back but, The way Remus’ face lit up… He had to try.

“Really?” Remus said almost bouncing.

“I mean. I’ll try.” Roman said.

“Good enough!” Remus said. “I’ll see you in a couple hours! I gotta get in my head space!” He said running off.

Roman watched him go, a sinking feeling that he got himself in something he had no idea how to handle sinking in.

---

Remus showed up at Roman’s door not wearing a onesie like Roman thought he might, but a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that he clearly made himself that was a mix of tye-dye and gory images with stains that looked like real blood. He had a stuffed octopus that was looking worse for the wear and a paci on a clip.

“Hihi!” He said moving past Roman into the room. Roman closed the door.

“Hi? So what do I do?”

“You watch me.” Remus said. “Duh.” His voice was higher...more kid like. Which made sense.

“Alright. So you want to do something?” Roman asked.

“Mmmmm I dunno.” Remus said putting the octopus on Roman’s bed.

“Does he have a name?” Roman asked.

“Yeah! Cephy!” Remus said bouncing. “He collects skulls!”

“Really?” Roman asked, playing along.

Remus nodded clearly having fun that someone was so interested in his stuffed friend. “He eats all the bones cept the skulls! Those he pol-....pol..”

“Polishes?”

“Yeah! Shiny and stuff.” Remus said waving his hands as he talked.

Roman looked over Cephy. “Mmm. He’s looking a little rough. Do you want me to patch him up?”

“Yes! We can make a octopus hospitel!” Remus said grabbing Cephy and shoving him into Roman’s hands. “I’ll be the mad doctor and you can be the real doctor who does the...surge- a- ge!”

“Surgery.” Roman said.

“Yeah! Dat!” Remus said beaming.

Roman had to smile too. Remus was just..lacking a better word...cute like this. Janus was missing out thinking that Remus was ‘too much’ to handle.

Roman sewed up Cephy and put a little magic in him to make him softer again. Remus was thrilled he watched the whole time asking questions about what Roman was doing and talking about other things that Cephy liked to do.

“-and then bam! Dead!” Remus fell over onto Roman’s bed.

“Oh dear.” Roman said half listening to the story half focusing on the stuffie in his hands. He needed to put the finishing touch on. A spell that made it so Cephy didn’t get torn up again.

“There! All done!” Remus jumped up and grabbed his stuffed friend.

“Cephy! You’re alright! You lived Surge-a-ge!” Remus said hugging him. Roman didn’t bother correcting him. He was going to keep messing words up. As long as Roman got the gist of it he didn’t mind.

Remus looked at Roman suddenly, “I’m hunge.”

“Oh. Well it is getting late isn’t it? We should both get some dinner.” Roman said stand and without thinking about it took Remus’ hand and led them to the kitchen. By late it was LATE. Almost midnight.

Roman was kind of glad no one else was awake. He didn’t want to face Patton and Logan yet. Nor confront Virgil about saying he was little when he wasn’t.

He made eggs which was the first thing that Remus suggested that was edible. And toast. With jam….and juice.

Ok so he made breakfast at midnight. Remus didn’t have a problem with it. He even tried to feed Cephy some.

“Done!” Remus said, pushing his plate away. “Now we play something else?”

“I don’t think so you little gremlin, It’s bedtime.” Roman said.

Wait...did he just call remus a gremlin? Shit! He looked at Remus closely but the only thing he was upset about was having to go to bed.

“Ugh! But I wanna stay… stay…’yawn’ up!” Remus said before yawning a second time.

“Nope. Bedtime. Gremlin.” Roman said running with the nickname. Remus grumbled but agreed.

“Carry me?” He muttered. Roman picked him up and made sure he still had Cephy before taking him and tucking them both in bed.

“Goodnight gremlin.” Roman said, flipping off the lights.

“Night night.” Remus muttered half asleep.

Roman turned around and jumped as he was met with Janus. “Gah!”

“You did good today.” Janus said. “Watching him.”

“I don’t get why you think he’s too much to be honest.” Roman said a little tense.

Janus laughed, “You haven’t seen his temper tantrum yet….besides I’m not very partenal….Not like you it seems.”

“Thank you?”

“Good luck Roman.” Janus said, turning, “You’re going to need it.”

---

Roman sat reading from a storybook as Remus played on the floor half listening. He noticed Janus out of the corner of his eye reading his own book. Only Janus hadn’t turned any pages in almost twenty minutes giving Roman the sneaking suspicion that he was listening. He read just slightly louder and kept an eye out for any movement from Janus.

Sure enough Janus closed his book after a few minutes and set it aside but didn’t get up and leave. Instead he just closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair farther. Roman’s smile widened as he continued reading.

“It’s lunch time.” Remus reminded him. Roman closed the book and saw Janus open his eyes and caught Roman watching him. Janus wordlessly got up and left.

“Yeah. Let’s get you some food.” Roman said, taking Remus’ hand and taking him to the kitchen.

Janus had been hanging around Remus and Roman when a lot. More than Roman expected of him. He had never really thought of Janus as being sociable but it was clear that he was.

Roman couldn’t stop thinking about Janus’...warning? It felt like a warning. Like something was going to happen that he would NEED luck for. But he had no idea what. Were Patton and Logan going to become even more intolerable?

They were trying to get him to regress around Virgil and didn’t believe him when he said that he didn’t regress. They firmly believed he was just being shy about it? Why would he be? It didn’t make sense to him but it seemed to make some kind of sense to them since they would not drop it!

He sighed. Remus looked up at him from his lunch. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about gremlin.” Roman said, brushing Remus’ hair out of his face.

Remus hummed, Roman could tell by the look in his eyes that he was snapping out of his younger headspace. “Roman.”

“It’s nothing!...Really! Just...you know. Them.” Roman said, waving his hand. At least for the most part Virgil seemed to believe that he didn’t regress. But Patton and Logan just would not let it go.

“Do I need to bust some heads?” Remus asked.

“No.” Roman rolled his eyes. He sat down and crossed his arms. He looked towards the hallway that Janus had disappeared down before leaning forward on the table. “Do you now what’s up with Janus?”

“Did he say something to you?” Remus asked confused.

“Well...no. I just thought it was weird that he was hanging out so much when you’re regressed when he thought you were ‘too much to handle’.” Roman said using finger quotations.

“Well he’s not handling me is he? That’s you!” Remus said. “Who is doing a good job by the way.” He muttered the second half before taking a quick bite.

Roman blinked at the praise. Remus was begrudging to give him any compliments when he was bigger due to their dumb slibing ravalry they had going on.

“Still…”

“If he didn’t say anything he’s fine! He’ll say something if he has a problem!” Remus said.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Really? The master of lies and secrets is going to be completely open about his problems?”

“Yeah...why not?” Remus asked. “I mean you’re part of the group now.”

“The group?”

“One of us! You spend more down here than with the others at this point!” Remus said a bit happy about it.

Roman froze. He….he did. Didn’t he? He just wanted to avoid them from trying to baby him and he liked taking care of Remus and talking with Janus and-

He stood up so fast he made Remus jump at the sudden action. “I need to go talk to them!”

Remus waved him off. “Good luck.”

Roman paused. Why did they both think he needed luck so much?

----

He ran into Virgil first. Who for the most part was regretful that he jumped to a conclusion and got Roman into this mess.

“Are you ok? You looked stressed out.” Virgil said.

“Fine.” Roman said.

“Right. Because you’re known for your one word answers.” Virgil crossed his arms.

“Alright so I’m not feeling my best at the moment.” Roman said, throwing a hand in the air.

“Any way I can help?” Virgil asked.

“Oh I think you’ve done enough!” Roman snapped. Virgil flinched. Roman’s anger died down. “Sorry. You didn’t know this would happen.”

“Still...I should made sure I knew for sure what was going on first before-”

“Breath. It’s fine. I’m sure they’ll give up on me ‘regressing’ any day now.” Roman said, patting Virgil’s upper arm. “Hopefully.” He muttered as he moved past Virgil.

He found Patton and Logan in the common room. “Oh hey! You’re back!”

“Yep!”

“Are you feeling alright?” Logan frowned.

Roman took a breath. “I need you two to drop this whole me regressing thing.”

Patton and Logan glanced at each other. “Are..are you sure?”

“Very.” Roman said flatly.

Patton nodded to himself. Logan stood up, “Alright. It’s your choice.”

Roman was feeling hopeful that he had gotten through to them. Then Patton spoke, “If you ever change your mind about doing it alone we’ll be here.” Roman groaned.

Well...It was better than nothing.

---

While they did drop trying to get him to regress around them. They were checking to make sure he was regressing on his own and suggested he go regress to get rid of some stress when he was tense. He finally just agreed to going somewhere else, (them taking this as him going to regress) just so he didn’t have to bother with it.

He stormed into the dark commons and froze as he saw Remus regressed...with Janus. It was clear from his pacifier and childlike outfit that he was little too. Unless this was some weird joke he was missing out on.

“Janus?!?” He accidentally yelled.

Janus and Remus both jumped. Janus looked up terrified, tears appearing in his eyes. Roman’s caregiving instincts kicked in. He dropped down next to Janus and quickly went about calming him.

“Hey. No it’s ok. See? Everything is fine.” Roman said softly.

Janus stared at him with wide eyes. He slowly reached out and touched Roman’s face before reaching out with both arms. Roman pulled him into his lap. Janus cuddled up as close as he could to Roman’s chest.

Remus whined, “Hey!” He crawled over and Roman hugged him to his side. Remus wasn’t that cuddly but he must have been a bit jealous of Janus at the moment.

Oh boy. Maybe this is what he needs luck for.

---

Janus stopped regressing as Roman served them supper. He started shifting in his chair awkwardly and clearly wanted to leave.

“Hey.” Roman said gently. “We don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. I can pretend it never happened if you want.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say as Janus relaxed a bit. He sat back. “No..This needs to be addressed.”

Roman sat down. “Alright.”

Janus stared at his plate of food, across from him Remus was eating quickly. His legs kicking back and forth. Those his eyes said he was older than he was acting.

Janus was quiet for a while before speaking. “I can’t handle Remus’ regression because I regress too.”

Roman nodded. “It causes it?”

Janus nodded. He looked up at Roman. “So….”

“If you want I can watch both of you at the same time. It’s not too much.” Roman couldn’t really promise that but today had gone well so why not at least try?

Janus stared at Roman for a solid minute before speaking. “I’d like that.”

Roman smiled. Remus cheered. “Little friend!” Roman and Janus both smiled at that. “Maybe Virgil could join us for a playdate!” Janus’ smile froze.

Roman held his breath for Janus’ reaction. After a second Janus unfroze and nodded, “Worth a shot.”

---

Setting up the playdate was more work than he thought. Patton was sure that having Remus around a regressed Virgil would be bad for him. “I just don’t want him getting hurt!”

Roman assured him that he had been watching Remus, (“Like a big brother!” Patton said completely blowing over how Roman said he was Remus’ caregiver) and that he wouldn’t hurt Virgil or Janus.

Logan was the one who agreed. “We’ll both be there. We can watch them.”

“I’m so proud of you for doing this!” Patton told him. He was almost sure that Patton thought he was finally going to regress around them.

He just smiled tightly and moved on with setting everything up. Virgil was genuinely excited about it. While Remus and Janus had playdates together before, Virgil never had. So while he was nervous about it, he was also ready to play.

Roman held Janus and Remus’ hands as he took them to light side common room where there was a pillow fort set up, snacks were being made fresh in the kitchen and the t.v was set up for movies. Of course there were toys in a chest in the back of the pillow fort due to the fact that the t.v was most likely just going to be background noise.

Virgil was waiting in the pillow fort. They had decided before to have them all small before getting them together in case an argument broke out and they couldn’t regress.

Janus surprised all of them by running over as soon as he saw Virgil and hugging him. Remus beamed and ran over to join the hug. Roman smiled at them.

“Do you want to go join in kiddo?” Patton asked.

Roman shook his head, “I’ve got to finish up the snacks so-”

“Pfft! You don’t need to worry about that!” Patton said. “Logan and I have that! Just go play!”

“I’m here to watch them. Not play.” Roman said firmly.

“You don’t have to.” Logan said. “We are more than capable of watching all four of you.”

Roman grit his teeth. “I am not regressing.”

Patton gave him that stern look that said he wanted him to stop acting and just go along with it. Roman didn’t back down. He walked over and sat on the couch so he could keep an eye on Remus and Janus.

Virgil waved to him.

Roman relaxed a little. He could get through this.

---

He could not get through this! He was holding himself back from yelling at Patton, “I do not regress.” He said as he fixed Janus’ paci clip.

“You don’t have to hide it! We know!” Patton said. “I thought we got past this!”

“You are not listening to me! Neither of you are!” Roman snapped.

Logan frowned. Janus tugged on Roman’s sleeve. He was getting upset at all the angry faces. Roman picked him up. “It’s ok.” He said soothing him.

He took a breath. He can do this. This is fine.

Until Patton tried to take Janus from him with a quick you don’t need to do that. “Oh! I think I do!”

Janus started crying and Roman felt even worse. This isn’t how he wanted tonight to go. He walked into the other room with Janus to calm him down.

“You two really suck ass you know that right?” Remus said clearly not regressed anymore. Neither was Virgil who was glaring at them.

“I told you that I was wrong and he doesn’t regress! Why can’t you get that?”

“Virgil.” Patton said. “Then why does he know so much about it?”

“He doesn’t regress.” Remus said firmly. “He takes care of me when I’m regressed!”

“Well maybe if he didn’t have to he could regress! Maybe he’s so busy dealing with you that he doesn’t!” Patton argued.

Logan stepped between them before Remus could punch Patton. “Patton I think they are telling the truth. We were wrong about Roman regressing.”

“What? But..You said that-”

“And I was wrong.” Logan said.

Patton deflated. “Oh….oh no.”

“We need to apologize.” Logan said.

Patton nodded.

Roman came back in with a sleeping Janus. “Remus are you ready to go?”

“In a minute. These two have something to say to you.” Remus said.

“We’re sorry.” Logan said.

Roman’s eyebrows shot up. “I...what?”

“We didn’t believe you...we didn’t trust you to tell us the truth. And we’re sorry. We should have listened to you.” Patton said.

Roman smiled, “Thank you. Remus?”

“Yeah yeah. Time to go.” Remus said walking over and taking Janus from Roman. “I’ll get him tucked into bed. You can handle this.”

Roman nodded. Remus smiled at his brother and winked before leaving.

They talked for a while. Both of them were really listening to Roman about how he wasn’t a regressor he was a caregiver.

“That….makes more sense.” Logan said.

“It suits you.” Virgil said.

Roman smiled. “Thank you. I’ve found that I have quite the talent for it.”

Patton shifted, “Roman...I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright Patton. I forgive you. You saw what you wanted to see.” Roman said. Roman looked at Virgil, “Not like I haven’t done that before. The important thing is moving past it.”

“That’s….good advice.” Virgil said surprised.

Roman looked at him offended. “I do have good ideas you know!”

“And we promise we’ll listen to them.” Patton said. “To you.”

Roman nodded. Guess he didn’t need luck after all. He just needed help from people he cared about. And who cared about him.

“Oh stop it! I can almost hear you being sappy!” Virgil said.

“What are you talking about?” Roman said.

“You’ve got that look on your face.”

“I do not have a look! I have looks!”

“Yeah sure-”

Virgil and Roman fell into their normal banter. The awkward air that had been between them was gone. They were back to normal. Or rather a new normal.

#Little janus #little virgil #little remus #cg roman #cg logan #cg patton

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skinsharpenedteeth · 4 years

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No clue what to call this one...

It’s PunkRock!Michael and Emo!Alex AU that pretty much no one asked for. That being said, it’s for @litwitlady per our previous conversation about the subtle difference with punk and emo kids. As a warning, it fluff n smut.

The ground vibrated under Alex Manes bright red converse and he wondered if he’d be able to hear anything once this night was over. He’d found the furthest wall and decided to hold it up for the evening as he waited for Maria to get done with her one-woman-mission to fuck SOMEONE in this derelict house that operated as a “music venue”. All the rooms were lit with harsh yellow lighting, bereft of all but the most untrustworthy looking furniture, and there were dents and holes in walls all over the place. Alex was a little afraid the second floor would cave in at some point and he’d have to find out that people actually lived here.

Looking back up towards the corner of what was once considered the dining room of the house, he was happy to see that he couldn’t see Maria anymore. Maybe she’d gotten lucky faster than he’d figured she would and soon they’d be able to get out of here. But that might still take a while, so Alex slid down the wall and took out the book he’d been reading about the perks of being a wallflower. He noted someone coming to stand next to him in this periphery but didn’t look up. He didn’t want to engage anyone here and the bouncing of their leg by his shoulder made him sure they weren’t looking to engage him either since they seemed to be enjoying the band.

When the band finally wound down, the figure that had been standing next to him practically fell onto the floor in a heap of legs and elbows. He turned to look and saw it was Michael Guerin, probably the most serious, mysterious, hard core punk kid at his school. His blonde curly hair had been streaked with green and slicked back from his face. He didn’t wear any make-up like some of the punk kids did or Alex himself for that matter. He had on a D.A.R.E. shirt with the sides and sleeves ripped off which showed off his lithe, strong body when he slumped forward. The shirt was tucked into tight black jeans with safety pinned holes up and down the legs. He wore the rattiest shit-kicker boots Alex had ever seen which were covered with patches, pins, and spikes. He’d left his spiked bracelets and collar that he’d worn at school at home for the evening and Alex felt like he was almost seeing him naked. Which wasn’t unwelcome because for all Michael Guerin’s faults, being unattractive was not among them.

“Having fun?” Michael asked, looking over at him in between nodding and slapping hands with various people milling around in the crowd. The band was breaking down their gear and everyone was moving to other parts of the house or out into the yard between acts. Alex pursed his lips at him and went back to his book. He was sure he was just fucking with him. Michael Guerin didn’t make small talk. He mostly just stalked the halls and kept his head down in classes. Alex couldn’t look at him without rolling his eyes sometimes, he was such a cliché.

“I, uh, don’t think I’ve seen you at many of these. Thought you liked fuckin’ Panic! At the Disco and shit…” he continued, sneaking looks over at Alex. Alex sighed through his nose loudly. Apparently, they were going to do this tonight.

“I’m here with Maria,” Alex finally responded, still not looking up from the book he was frankly only pretending to read at this point.

“Oh? I saw her leave with one of the guitarists from the first band. Was she your ride?” Michael asked, sounding nervous. Alex did look at him then, trying to see if he was just fucking with him or if he was being sincere. When he decided he couldn’t tell, he dug his phone out of his back pocket and saw a missed call and a text from Maria.

>Found something strange and hopefully wonderful. Won’t be back tonight.

“God fucking damnit, Maria,” Alex exclaimed, almost throwing his phone in frustration.

“So I guess that’s a yes?” Michael asked a little sheepishly.

“This is why you never see me at these things. I don’t have a fucking car and my ride likes to fuck strangers and ends up deserting me. I fucking know better. Ugh, fucking Maria,” he raged. Michael watched him at it for a while. Meanwhile the other band had finished setting up and people were starting to filter back into the room. Alex looked around at the people and groaned, just wanting to leave and get out of here.

“Hey, come on. Let’s go outside. It’s about to get loud,” Michael suggested, standing up and offering Alex his hand. Alex absently noted that his fingernails were painted, though the polish was cheap and had already chipped off in several places. At the first screech of feedback from the amps, Alex grabbed his hand and let Michael pull him up. He shoved the paperback into his back pocket and looked Guerin in the eyes, feeling a fluttery feeling in his chest when their eyes met. He was a bit surprised when Michael didn’t immediately drop his hand, but instead held it while leading him through the dingy kitchen and out to the backyard area. A group of smokers hung around the door chatting and they called ‘Hey-o!’ in excitement when they saw Michael. He waved and grinned at them but kept tugging Alex with him until they were past the property line. Apparently, someone had found a couch on the side of the road and had moved it out into the undeveloped desert behind the house to stare out at the dark nothing beyond. When they reached the front of the couch Michael finally let go of his hand and flopped down on the cushions at one end with a sigh.

“Uh, what are we doing?” Alex asked, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed them. He shuffled a little and stared down at the orange and white plaid couch dubiously.

“We’re hanging out. Chill, sit down, enjoy the night with me. We’ll still be able to hear the band from here,” he added, patting the spot next to him.

“Oh, goody,” Alex remarked sarcastically before sitting himself down on the cushion farthest from Michael’s. He still didn’t quite trust his intentions, but he was glad to be out of the house. They could, in fact, here the band still, but the lyrics were muffled and it almost sounded like the songs had a melody this far out.

“So, what’s up with the finger bruises on your arm?” Michael asked, pointing towards where Alex’s shirt sleeves had ridden up when he’d finally sat down. “Girlfriend like to get a little rough?”

“Uhh…. That would be pretty remarkable since I’m totally gay and you know it. Like, everyone knows it,” Alex accused, deflecting his question about the bruises. He didn’t want to talk about his problems with strangers. As hot as this guy was, he was still a stranger. Michael smiled widely at him.

“I didn’t know if that was a rumor or what, man,” he replied easily, seeming to take Alex’s correction in stride. For some reason that threw Alex off. He’d been waiting for an attack.

“Oh,” Alex said, feeling a little deflated, “Well, it’s not. I’m gay. Does that make you want to run back to the party? Afraid someone will see you out here with the emo faggot?”

Michael’s smile fell and he looked a little insulted. Alex almost apologized, but he didn’t owe this punk anything and he kind of wanted to see how he reacted to some pushing. His tone was less congenial when he finally answered.

“I don’t give a fuck who you’re into. Love is love. What I do want to know is who the fuck keeps bruising you up all the time? Those aren’t love taps I saw on your ribs the other day in the locker room and you don’t skate or play sports. Who’s fucking you up?”

He sounded mad, indignant on behalf of a stranger. On behalf of Alex, who was not used anyone giving a shit about him. It was a new feeling for Alex to have someone pay that much attention to him and care that he was being hurt. But he couldn’t just say ‘My dad knocks me around because I crave cock and hate the military’ so he kept his mouth shut and Michael watched him stay silent, watched him tense up with his shoulders closer to his ears and wrap his arms around his body. He obviously wasn’t going to say anything so Michael tried a different tactic.

“The foster family I’m with right now… they’re alright. But the family I was with before them? Fucking meth heads. And meth heads get mean when they’re coming down,” Michael said, turning and pulling his shirt over his head to show Alex his back. There were long thin grooves over the middle of his back and little round scars like burns. “Not all that is the meth heads. The long scars were from the religious zealots I got put with a couple years ago. Being exorcised isn’t fun, but the lead up was worse.”

Alex stared at the skin in horrified fascination, moving closer to see them better in the faint light of the moon. Before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching out to trace along one of the scars with his fingers, but at the last minute came to his senses and brought his hand back.

“That’s awful, Michael,” Alex whispered. Michael pulled his shirt back down and turned to him, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Well, it’s all healed over now. Right now, no ones hurting me. So, who’s hurting you? Are you getting bullied? I know that Valenti kid is a fucking homophobic piece of shit jock bully, but if he’s literally beating you up I will get my boys and we’ll tear his ass in two,” Michael threatened with passion. Alex looked at him, feeling his face soften at how serious Michael was.

“You can’t defend me like that. Kyle’s a fucking jerk, but he’s not doing this. It’s..uh… It’s my dad. He’s the one hitting me,” Alex admitted quietly. Somewhere in the middle of his confession, he had started to find his own hands fascinating. So fascinating he couldn’t look up to see Michael’s expression over his confession, but instead just kept watching the way his skin pulled taut when he interlaced them and twisted one way or the other. One of Michael’s hands came into his view then and covered his own, stopping their anxious twisting. Alex froze and waited. He didn’t know what reaction he was hoping for but he felt himself bracing for it.

“Do you have somewhere to go to get away from him?” Michael asked, his voice now quiet next to Alex’s ear. The hand not on Alex’s came to rest between his shoulder blades, thumb rubbing soothing circles through the cotton of his shirt. Alex felt his body relax a fraction, slumping a little as he realized he wasn’t about to be attacked.

“Yeah, yeah. I have friends who will let me stay with them,” Alex managed to get out through the thickness in his throat.

“Add me to that list,” Michael said. Alex’s head jerked up to look at him and he realized he was only a couple breaths away from him. “I’m serious. Add me to the list of people you can call if you need an out. I’ve got a truck, I’ll come get you. No questions asked, nothing owed.”

“You don’t know me, Guerin,” Alex said in the stillness between them. He couldn’t stop his gaze from moving from his perfect hazel eyes down to his lips. He suddenly knew he wanted to kiss this guy. Whatever happened after was fine, but he wanted to do something reckless. Michael was pushing a long piece of hair back behind Alex’s ear and looking at him fondly and it made Alex’s gut clench with want.

“Sometimes people do nice things without an expectations. It’s been known to happen,” he replied. Alex nodded and swallowed, suddenly filled with nerves again, though for a very different reason than before.

He saw Michael watching him, watching the way his eyes kept darting down to look at his lips, watching the way he mirrored licking them with his own. Slowly Michael leaned forward, closing the distance between them and pressed his lips against Alex’s. Alex was cupping his jaw and keeping him close before Michael could back away and end the kiss. Alex opened his lips, his tongue lickeding over Michael’s in a request and a question. This wasn’t Alex’s first kiss, but it was the first one he was adamant about pursuing further. Michael hummed deep in his throat and opened to Alex’s advances, letting him explore his mouth with his tongue before doing the same with his own. Alex felt breathless and elated. He didn’t care that the music in the background was hardcore punk being played so badly Syd Vicious would be rolling over in his grave. He didn’t care that he was kissing Michael on a dirty, half rotten couch out in the desert where anyone could see them and tell his father what he’d been doing with another boy. He didn’t care that Maria had left him to fend for himself so she could chase boys. This half-crazed make out session with Michael Guerin was making it the best night of his life so far.

Maybe it was the lack of oxygen or the adrenaline of being seen by someone he’d never admitted to himself that he’d always been hyperaware of, but Alex couldn’t stop his hands from falling from Michael’s jaw and starting to grope at the skin exposed by the open sides of Michael’s shirt. In response, Michael turned his body and started to pull Alex until he was sitting straddled across his lap. Then it was Michael’s turn to slip his hands under the hem of Alex’s shirt and let his hands slide over the muscles of his back and waist. When it became too much, Alex finally broke their never-ending kiss to gasp air into his lungs. Michael didn’t miss a beat, his mouth attaching itself to Alex’s neck with sucking, stinging kisses that made Alex want to go crazy.

“Fuck,” Alex groaned when he felt Michael’s fingers start to slip past the waist band of his jeans. It was so hot to feel him against his skin. It was too much, though, just too much with someone he’d really just been introduced to. “Wait, wait, wait! We gotta slow down…”

Michael groaned and buried his head against Alex’s shoulder, hands immediately coming out from under his shirt and wrapping him up in a hug. Alex slowly withdrew his own hands, resting them on Michael’s shoulders while they both calmed down and regained their breath.

“Sorry,” Michael murmured against his shirt before lifting his head and giving him a quick, close-mouthed kiss. “Sorry.”

Alex smiled and laughed a little, rubbing his hands up and down Michael’s upper arms while he gathered himself. He was nervous about having stopped them, but he was still so fucking happy about what had happened.

“It’s okay. All of that was okay, I just… Where did this come from? You don’t even know me, you’ve never talked to me at school or even, like, acknowledged my presence…” Alex said, eyes flickering over Michael’s face. He saw the way his expression went soft and slightly incredulous.

“I may not know your favorite color, but I’ve wanted to kiss your emo eyeliner wearing ass since my first day at Roswell High. You’re always being so snarky and bratty to everyone and then when you’re with your friends? Your smile lights up the place and it’s so rare to see, but so fucking beautiful. It’s just… man, fuck school. Fuck those people. Fuck the kids, fuck the adults, fuck the institution. They’re answering just enough of the questions to keep us from asking more. It’s a fucking joke. I’m not in the right headspace at school. You’re about the only good thing about showing up every day. Just seeing you makes me hate humanity a little less.”

Alex felt the heat of a blush infusing his face, but he also couldn’t stop smiling. This guy. This fucking guy.

“Your,uh… your smile is pretty great too. I think tonight’s the first time I’ve even ever seen you smile,” Alex commented, his arms wrapping comfortably around Michael’s neck. Michael’s lips widened into a cheesy approximation of a smile that really just showed all his teeth with his lips pulled back while he crossed his eyes.

“Oh my God, staaahhhp,” Alex said laughing at the stupid face. When Michael let his features relax back to normal, Alex darted in and kissed him. He meant for it to be one kiss, but it quickly turned into more as the heat which had been banked earlier, now came back to life with more energy.

“Can we lay down? My legs are going to sleep,” Michael mumbled between kisses against Alex’s lips. Alex jumped and was about to scramble back and off his legs when he felt Michael’s hands under his butt and then he was being tilted backwards until his back rested against the cushions.

“I shudder to think what’s on these pillows,” Alex grumbled even as he widened his legs and let Michael sink between them to rest his body against Alex’s. The weight and friction felt amazing. He suddenly didn’t care about the scratchy upholstery where his shirt at ridden up his back. He just wanted Michael’s mouth back on his and to keep feeling his body writhing on top of him.

“You want to add to the mess?” Michael asked after breaking their kiss, raising an eyebrow and smiling mischievously. Alex looked at him confused for a moment and then his eyes followed Michael’s hand as it slid down to his own jeans, flicking the button open and leaving his hand on the zipper tongue. Alex’s eyes widened and he shot up to meet Michael in a kiss before glancing back down between them. It was so hot. He could tell Michael wasn’t wearing any underwear and his pants were almost painfully tight against his own body. “Alex?”

“Fuck, yes. So much yes. All the yes. Enthusiastic conset given,” Alex babbled between kisses, his hands sliding down to start undoing his own jeans. Michael’s hand followed his, pushing his away so he could cup Alex through the black cotton of his boxer briefs. Alex felt like he could come just from that. His body was vibrating, breath caught in his throat as he gasped at the feeling of someone else’s hand so close to his own dick. He wanted to reciprocate. He wanted to touch Michael back so with shaky hands, he slowly pulled down Michael’s zipper and pushed aside the fabric of his pants. He felt the velvety skin against the back of his hand and then he pulled it out. Michael was uncircumcised. Alex felt like he knew this somewhere in his hind brain from talk or the locker room showers or something, but it was different when it was something you glanced while trying to hide as much of your own body as possible. Now it was thick and heavy in his hand. The foreskin moved in such a hypnotic way as Alex pulled and then pushed gently until he could see the wet, spongey head of Michael’s cock. It was giving him all sorts of scary, wonderful ideas of things he wanted to do and try that was definitely way too fast for a random hook up on a murder couch.

“Does it freak you out?” Michael asked, voice a little breathy as he held still and let Alex play with him. Alex shook his head slowly, still watching his own hand as he jacked Michael’s cock, thumb swiping and spreading the precome over the head. Finally, Alex’s brain came back online and he looked up into Michael face. His eyes had closed and his mouth hung slightly slack. He looked like he was in pain, but he was enjoying every second of it. Alex didn’t stop his hand movements as he raised himself up enough to capture Michael’s bottom lip between his own. Immediately Michael responded, returning the kiss hungrily. His hand had stayed over Alex’s underwear, but now he pulled and tugged at the offending garment until he could get it far enough down to sit under Alex’s balls.

“OOhhhhh my God,” Alex cried out as Michael’s hand finally grasped flesh and he was overwhelmed by the heat of his hand and the roughness of his skin.

“You alright?” Michael asked, keeping his hand still to make sure Alex was still game. Alex nodded and sank back down against the sofa cushions. Michael was giving him a curious look from where he was holding himself up on one arm. Alex laughed a little and moved his hand to grip the back of Michael’s neck fondly.

“That feels so much better when someone else is doing it,” Alex admitted a little shyly. Alex was afraid this was going to become a Conversation, but thankfully Michael just smiled softly at him and moved back down onto his forearm so he could kiss Alex while still having enough room between their bodies for their hands. Michael’s hand was a little dry on him, but he didn’t care. It still felt amazing and everytime their knuckles bumped against each other a zing of pleasure rocketed up his spine. He was doing this to someone else. Someone else was touching him. It was a-fucking-mazing. He started to feel a familiar tightness beginning in his core, his body winding itself tighter before it let go. He broke away from Michael’s mouth, panting and making pained little “Ah” sounds against his cheek.

“Fuck, Michael, I’m about to—I’m going to—” he was trying to get out, even as his vision narrowed and his body became a singular being of exquisite pleasure. He felt Michael’s mouth cover his and then his own hand was wet as well. When it was over they laid there, panting against each other and then Michael tipped sideways to wall onto his side between Alex and the back of the couch.

“Shit,” Michael said succinctly, cheek against Alex’s shoulder and breath still short. Alex just nodded and looked down at himself. There was come all over his shirt. His come, Michael’s come, marring the black in white, viscous stripes.

“Shit,” he repeated after Michael, his voice less in awe now that it was time for clean up. Michael looked down at his shirt and honest to god giggled a little. He brought his come covered hand up and wiped it over a clean expanse of Alex’s tee.

“Hey! I gotta wear this home!” Alex exclaimed, battling Michael’s hand away.

“No you don’t. Follow me to my truck, I’ll let you borrow a shirt. This one is fucking toast,” Michael snickered. Alex looked down again and had to agree. Soon after, they tucked themselves back up into their jeans and got off the couch. Alex found himself a little wobbly after the high of an orgasm. Michael caught him with a hand on waist and kissed his cheek.

“You get a little come drunk. Noted for next time.”

“So there will be a next time?” Alex asked, suddenly finding he was nervous to hear the answer.

“If you want there to be a next time, then yeah,” Michael said, holding out his hand to take Alex’s. Alex looked at it for a second and then up at Michael’s guileless face. He smiled then and reached his hand out to hold onto Michael’s. They slowly made their way around the outside of the house where the music was still rattling the glass panes left in the windows and out to the street where Michael had parked his truck. Alex stripped off his shirt and handed it off to Michael as Michael pawed through a backpack of clothes he kept under the passenger’s seat. Finally, he passed over a black Misfits shirt. When Alex put it on he noticed it smelled like rain, dust, and sage brush. It wasn’t a bad smell and in fact made him want to bury his nose in the collar to train it to memory. It was how Michael smelled and that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Want a ride home?” Michael asked a little shyly as he tugged the bottom of his shirt on Alex’s body in some attempt to ‘straighten it’.

“Sure,” Alex agreed, climbing in the passenger’s seat and buckling in. Michael closed his door for him and ran over to the driver’s side, climbing in and starting up the car. As soon as they were on the road, Alex slid his hand over the seat between them in a silent request for Michael to hold his hand. With a quick smile, Michael did.

#malex #malex fic #malex au #roswell nm #barely edited #no name #punkrock!michael querin and emo!alex manes #michael guerin #alex manes #high school au

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

Text

Keen

Summary: The Bartons’ Vow Renewal Ceremony, Bucky’s exasperation (among other things), and some peaches makes for a fantastic afternoon. Pairing: Bucky x chaoticdumbass!Reader Warnings: Swearing, sexual references. A/N: 1.4k words. Written for @cake-writes‘s 1K Followers Celebration! Congrats, love! The prompt is based off this moodboard:

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

It’s never the revealing outfits that catches Bucky’s attention.

The shredded tank top exposing a lacy bra— an exciting blend of sexy and sweet, or the skintight white dress from last Saturday’s outing that hugged so snugly he could see the cleft of your ass. He doesn’t bat an eye.

Silk robes and nothing else to mission debriefs. Boy shorts and a frayed crop-top emblazoned with a summer camp logo. Nothing. Once you answered your door in fishnet tights and a tank top, half pulling on shorts, and because Bucky was so used to it, he threw the book you asked to borrow onto your bed and left as if he never saw you.

Your clothing collection leaves very little to the imagination because frankly, you leave very little to the imagination. Bucky knows more about you than he knows about Steve and it would only make him uncomfortable if he didn’t know you for so long.

There is no filter between your brain and your mouth, and you have absolutely zero sense of propriety.

Between burping in the middle of dinner, clipping your nails and scattering them on the floor of Sam’s room when he irritates you, complaining openly about pissing out of your ass after eating an entire box of Triscuits, your prancing around in nothing but socks and a t-shirt doesn’t even register in his mind as inappropriate. All of that sounds like a Tuesday night when you’re applying a mud-mask and wrestling to get him to try it, too.

It’s the dress you wear to Clint and Laura’s 10-year anniversary that kills him.

A lemon-yellow and soft fabric with loose capped sleeves, flowing down to your shins and cinched neatly at your waist with a thin bow. The sheer material gives him a clear view of your legs inside when you dart through the beams of the afternoon sun.

It makes you look otherworldly and gorgeous. Delicate like you never are, and to his utter shock, it stirs him wild.

He finds himself situated between Steve and Sam and staring at the back of your head during the vow exchange. Your hair is still wet because you had overslept and sprinted down the road to get here on time. Luckily, the Barton’s had extra accommodations just a few miles away—Clint’s newfound hobby as a retired Avenger and rural dad. Unluckily, your heel broke off and you ran barefoot, dragging blood over the lush grass.

Water droplets collect on the nape of your neck and roll down into the fabric, soaking the back until it turns orange. He pinches himself because no way. No way is he thinking about dragging you behind the barn in the middle of a vow renewal ceremony and—

“Earth to Bonky!” Your fingers snap in his face. Three of your nails are chipped, and you shove your pointer back into your mouth, teeth nipping against it to tear it free. “Let’s get fucked up on some bubbly.”

He feels lightheaded because the cocktail hour has begun and that he didn’t even notice.

You grab him by the waist and lurch forward, throwing your broken shoes under the chair and pretending like they don’t exist.

Picnic tables are set for the guests, thin off-white linen tablecloths adorned with the exact kind of decorations perfect for a ceremony in the back of the Barton’s farmhouse. Eucalyptus dollars and dusty green lamb’s ears burst from the entwined centerpiece running through the middle of each tabletop. Creamy garden roses are placed sporadically along the length of the vine, split open peaches and blackberries lie waiting to be tasted on polished ceramic plates.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky couldn’t care less.

Your teeth sink into a ripe yellow peach matching that damn dress and its juice spurts from your mouth and down your chest in sticky trails. Bucky chokes on his champagne and spits back into the flute and both of you look like complete idiots who either need bibs or need to be quarantined away from the real adults.

“What is going on with you two?” Sam mutters behind a stiff jaw as his eyes roll from left to right, “Y’all embarrassing me in front of the ladies.” Bucky puts a hand up in apology and steers you away from Laura’s shocked sisters and over to the rolled-up cutlery where he slaps a cloth napkin over your sternum.

“I was saving it for later; I can get a little slurp-slurp if I bend down far enough.”

“Will you shut—please, it’s distracting.”

A furrow of your eyebrows shushes him as you slowly dab at the liquid on your chest. In your other hand, you hold onto the half-eaten peach suspiciously. Bucky tenses when you look him up and down, taking in his stiff posture and the way he is fisting the crystal glass in his hand. “You… okay?”

“Fine. They’re just... gross.” He grunts.

You quirk your head even further and narrow your eyes at the way he stands, weight pressed on one leg, arms crossed suddenly as if he’s protecting himself.

Bucky grumbles incoherently, stares off into the distance and finds interest in hay bales and chickens. He unbuttons the front of his blazer and straightens his spine, anything to stand a little taller and ground himself. His hands begin to fiddle by his sides, and he fixes his tie in a moment of unease.

The grass shuffles beneath your feet as you step in front of him, blocking the perfect view he had of a yard he longed to throw himself across. You hold the peach out in front of his face with an amused grin.

The glint in your eye tells him the kind of trouble he’s in. “This? Oh, Bucky, this isn’t gross… It’s actually delicious---” Your bottom lip is rolled between your teeth as you gasp and moan.

He glares straight through your face and into The Abyss. You are milking it.

“—Mmm.. oh god! Juicy.” A squelch breaks the silence as your mouth sucks the nectar onto your tongue, “Sweet. Tangy. Wet, and so soft...” Your tongue lewdly traces the corner of your mouth and up over the top of your lip. Maddeningly slow. “It’s kind of like eating…”

You place the fruit under your nose and plunge the tip of your tongue inside, flicking a few times at the edge of where the soft yellow flesh meets the thin layer of fuzzy orange-pink skin. “Kind of like eating pus---”

A hand spikes the peach out of your face and clear across the yard. When the two of you are finished following its trajectory as it pathetically rolls to a stop so far away it’s nearly gone, your heads turn back to see Steve hovering with a glower.

“Not. Okay.” He grits out, “Family event!” Steve yanks his thumb back to the tables where no one else seems to think anything of your absence, but granted, not everyone has super hearing. “Don’t make me come back here.”

Steve struts off with a final huff, giving Bucky a disappointed sigh—or perhaps a sympathetic one. Your smirk is barely hidden by the back of your hand as you watch Steve clomp away and then you erupt into laughter so hard you have to hold onto Bucky to keep yourself upright. Your wrist is splayed over his shoulder, forehead pressed to your own arm as you giggle.

Rising from your chest and mouth is the smell of ripe peach flesh, enclosing his senses completely. It is summery like the sun and the yellow of your dress. Ripe and sweet and tangy, just like you had said. Bucky licks his lips and groans when your breath blows over his neck.

“You think he--?” You ask quietly, turning so that the tip of your nose barely brushes against him.

Bucky shrugs. “Not like this is out of the ordinary for you.”

Another gust of air rushes down his back when you exhale, “True. Meet me behind the barn, Barnes?”

And then you’re off, extremely proud of yourself, bare feet sneaking away as quickly as possible so no one will notice your absence from the mingling. Bucky watches you disappear behind a row of trees and around the corner and shudders in excitement.

The two of you have been fooling around sporadically for the past month, but as you promised-- and he delivered-- nothing has changed. He still yells at you for oversharing, and you still clobber him with a box of Triscuits and a jar full of something for his face once a week. The only difference is that now sometimes he shows up half-dressed, too.

Bucky grins to himself as he takes a step after you. Then he pauses and heads the other way.

Five minutes later, he turns the corner and finds the dress that started it all hiked up over your hips and you erupt into laughter again at the sight of two peaches in his hand.

tags: @whothehellisbucky, @serpentbaby, @badassbaker, @alagalaska, @crist1216, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchnan barnes #reader insert #cake's 1k followers celebration

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secretstories · 4 years

Text

Reverse

Wrote this while I was at work. I hope you all enjoy

Eve woke to the feeling of something wet and slimy on her face. It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant way to wake up, and she jolted upright in a near panic for a moment only to be accosted by another round of slobbery slime and a paw to her stomach.

She grunted and spat out a protest arms flailing.

“Waffles! Waffles Stop!” Her sputtering turned to laughter, and the laughter made the dog even more excited, as his tial began to wag, and he stepped forward, planting a paw right on her boob. The party stopped right then as she turfed the dog to the side frowning at him though she didn’t mean it, “Ouch.”

Waffles wagged his tail and rested his chin on her bed.

“Thanks for that.” she grumbled, rubbing her chest with the flat of her right arm, “Not like I needed that or anything.”

He licked her hand and he couldn’t help but grin as she ran a hand over his ears and through his fur.

She closed her eyes waiting for the best part of her morning: the realization that she captained a spaceship. The grin that split her face probably should have torn it in half joker style as she leaped from bed ready to live out another day of the best job ever!

And what did her enthusiasm get her, the sudden and jarring realization that she was missing a leg.

The realization as she tumble dof ballance and went plowing into the floor with a loud crash. She lay there for a second, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating her stupidity before a large nose appeared in her vision, and she got licked from forehead to chin by a big pink tongue.

She sighed, and sat up.

“Ouch.”

That was probably going to leave a bruise. Not that she didn’t already have enough of those.

SHe turned to find waffles rolling her prosthetic access the floor, using his snout to roll it. She grinned and thanked him, rubbing his ears as she locked the leg into place, running her fingers across the cool blue carapace that made up the sleeve. There was a whirr as the Stee-eye leg connected, and she flexed the two human toes.

From there she was finally able to climb to her feet and limp over to her closet and the mirror.

She threw the closet open and inspected her clothes. She could either look professional today….. Or like a complete idiot.

She thought about it for about .25 second before deciding.

Complete idiot it was!

Nonchalantly,she pushed aside the hanger than held her pristine grey uniform, and its single star on the shoulder and rummaged in the back for something fun to wear. She had plenty of star-wars t shirts, and other sci fi paraphernalia, but today felt special. She didn’t know why but it just did.

Ah! perfect !

She reached in and pulled it out.

It was a dress, just above knee height and slimming, but the best part about it was that it was made to have a pattern like R2-D2 on it, and AND.

IT HAD POCKETS.

She tossed it back on the bed and went rummaging for some shoes. She got bored five seconds in and just grabbed her heelies. They wouldn't match for dam but she loved them and anyone could fight her if they disagreed. She paused, then again, if she were to fall, she might just flash everyone her underwear.

She sat there thinking for a moment before deciding.

Compression shorts, perfect.

She pulled the clothes on, gave herself a cursory look in the mirror, smoothed down her short blond hair, adjusted her eyepatch and then walked towards the door throwing it open and…. Having an immediate heart attack.

After a moment of panic she leaned against the doorframe, “Simon! What did I tell you about waiting a few feet AWAY from my door.”

Simon stepped back,his head tilted one dark eyebrow raised , “Sorr, Admiral.”

“You don't have to call me that when I’m not in uniform you know.”

“I feel more comfortable this way.” He said, his light british accent dusting the words

She shrugged, “Whatever makes you comfortable I guess.” And then she rolled off down the hallway.

Simon jogged after her, “Ma’am i…. Well not to …. Tell you how to do your job.”

Sh rolled her single eye upward, “You always tell me how to do my job Simon. So lets not make pretences.”

He paused and ten sighed, “Maybe formal wear would be more….. Appropriate for a working environment.”

“It's casual friday simon, besides, it wouldn’t kill you to break one regulation every once in a while.”

“It might get me fired.”

She tilted her head to look at him, “Your commanding officer would have to report you simon…. Now Remind me who your direct commanding officer is?”

He sighed, “You.”

“Damn straight it is.”

She turned the corner and nearly rolled into a pipe, dodging out of the way just in time to plow into Angel who was making her way up the hall. The two of them toppled over and plowed into the floor.

Angel looked up at her with an expression that was neither shocked nor surprised, but grinned, “Well I didn’t expect this, this morning, but I’ll take it.”

Eve quickly sat back blushing so hard she could eel her entire body tingling, “I um…. I don’t think so.”

Angel shrugged, brushing her long dark hair away from unusually perfect skin, “Your loss.”

Eve rolled her eyes but then grinned.

“Nice dress.”

“You know the best part.”

“What?”

“IT HAS POCKETS!”

Angel laughed at her, and together they moved up the hallway talking quietly. Angel had been one of her best friends for a very long time. The marine had once been an olympic figure skater before joining the marine, and even now Eve liked to joke that she was far too pretty to be a marine mostly in front of the other marines who took the teasing in good grace.

“Where you headed.”

“Had to take to krill this morning.”

Angel snorted, “Watch out, she is on one today.”

“Why?”

“She just recently learned about spontaneous human combustion, and now she is worried that we are all going to explode into flames.”

Eve frowned, “She does realize that has only happened like…. Maybe fifty times in all of human recorded history if not less.”

“Trey telling her that.”

“She shrugged, I guess.”

Together they walked their way into the infirmary, and even from here they could hear the high shrill voice, “SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION. Because apparently humans can just BURST INTO FLAMES. Oue of all the things i have to deal with, your insides getting inflamed and exploding, your immune systems attacking itself, random cells growing in clumps but NO. NOW i have to worry about EXPLODING INTO FLAMES.”

They came around the door just in time to see a scene of carnage. Krill was standing on one of the beds brandishing a scalpel, and Dr. Kade was standing just below her his dark hair rumpled and his glasses askew over his handsome face. He looked so done.

“Morning krill.” Eve said walking up to the bed, “Bit early for a mental breakdown.”

“NO IT IS-”

“Should I mention that we aren't exactly sure if that can happen or not. Mostly likely is they accidentally set themselves on fire and no one could find evidence otherwise.” She wasn’t sure if she was lying or not, but anything to get Krill to calm down when she was in one of her moods.

She stopped, “Really.”

Eve glanced over at Dr. Kade and winked forgetting for a moment the wink was mostly negated by the fact her other eye was covered, “yeah,totally.” Dr Kade added, ‘Forgot to mention that/”

Eve patted the little alien on the shoulder, “Alright everyone can just calm down. I came to bring you this, mysurvey.” Krill took it an Eve patted her hand, “hopefully the morning goes better eh.”

She turned and wheeled fro mth room, nearly crashing into the doorframe, hearing a loud sigh from Dr. krill as she went.

Angel and Simon followed her down the hall and into the mess hall.

Maverick was already there his trey piled high with a small mountain of food, but that shouldn’t have been surprising. A mountain of food for a mountain of a man. He was over six feet tall, and had muscles for days. He probably needed like 3000 calories just to fuel all that.

“Slow down, Mav.” Or you might hurt yourself

Mav turned to look at her, his one blond eyebrow raised, “Look who's talking. I saw you put down two pizzas by yourself just the other day.”

“Brain food.” She announced walking over to the waffle maker and grittle.

Naozumi was there too this morning, looking like the god of the sun as usual. Everyone said he should have been a model and not an engineer, but he settled for making the gre engineering jumpsuit look like a runway accessory.

“Morning Naozumi.” She said, upturning a bottle of syrup over her pancakes.

“Morning, Admiral.” he said his voice a booming base that echoed around the room

“How my girl doing this morning.”

“She’s alright, the left compression filter will need to be changed on our next go round, but other than that, she seems happy.”

Eve grinned, “Excellent, just what I like to hear.”

She turned and took her seat at the table with the marines Angel, Maverick, Jackson soon to be joined by Naozumi and, eventually Kanan came to join them, her highly polished red carapace glowing slightly under the overhead lights.

She turned to look at Eve, “You seen my brother doay.”

Eve shifted in her seat, “Sunny…. No I haven’t Seen him.”

Kanan grunte shrugging her large shoulders, “Guess I’ll find him later.”

“Probably down in his little workshop, did you check there?”

Kanan shook her head, “No, I didn’t. It isn’t urgent, so it can wait.”

Eve was the first to finish eating, inhaling her pancakes like it was a last email before jumping up and wiping her mouth clean. Gotta run guys. They nodded to let her go and she jogged out the door and down towards engineering nearly slipping down the stairs when one of her wheels caught But she caught herself on the railing and hurried downward.

“In for a surprise this morning.”

She paused and looked up to where Conn was lurking, her tendrils billowing and undulating in the darkness.

“You are freaky, you know that. Like really freaking creepy.”

The starborn smiled, her lips parting to show a spiral of circular teeth, “I know.”

Eve shivered and continued her way downwards hurrying through a maze of small passages before she finally made it into the little room at the very base of the ship. She paused in the doorway watching him as he wrecked shoulders hunched, the blue of his carapace glowing bright in the light above.

She shuffled her feet a bit nervously before knocking quietly on the metal, “Knock knock.”

Sunny turned his bright gold eyes brightening when he saw her, “Eve… I have something for you.”

She brightened up, “Wait, really…. But it isn't like… a holiday or something?”

He stood a good foot taller than her, walking over his hand behind his back golden eyes shining bright, “Does it have to be a holiday for me to make something for you.”

She shifted her feet feeling guilty, “But I didn’t get you anything.”

He huffed, “Eve, I don’t want things, I just…. This is one of the only ways I know how to show you that I care.”

She pause, “I don’t know watching both the star wars trilogy and prequels with me was pretty long-suffering of you.”

He laughed and shook his head before reaching behind his back and pulling out.

A spear.

Her eyes widened a bit, and she took its warm metal in her cold hand. It was beautiful, “you made this.”

“He smiled, just for you…. Because you’re short.”

She rolled her eyes at him stepping bac and spinning it around in one hand before over hand swiping and snapping it back to the right.

“Do you like it.”

She spun it around again and pointed it at his throat, “You, me, dueling circle, after work.”

“It's a date.”

She blushed then stammered then swallowed hard and managed to squeak out, “I… ur, yeah.”

Sunny just did the Drev version of a grin at her.

It was just then that the alarms overhead began going off, red lights that blinked and roared.

“Shit!”

She turned and raced up the steps, Sunny hard on her heels.

Her implants buzzed, “Admiral, Kree pirates spotted harassing a civilian transport vessel.

She changed her direction and raced towards the docking bay, “Get a darkfire prepared for me, I’m on my way.”

They acknowledged and then dropped off, but by the time she made it, a team was already waiting for her. Heedless of how very public the cargo bay was, she kicked off her shoes and stripped off her dress leaping into the flight suit and puling it on so familiar with the suit it might as well have been a second skin.

From there she ran over to the suit station and was fitted into a space flight suit helmet under her arm as she ran to the ladder leading up to the darkfire cockpit. Sunny stood just below the ladder, “Kick ass out there.” he said.

She grinned at him as she slid into the cockpit pulling on her helmet with a hiss as the canopy lowered over her.

“Prism, play Danger Zone.” She said into her mic, and the AI responded.

She left the music quiet and the line open so she could hear, but the beat of the music road inside her,and her hands clenched tight around the controls as the darkfire rolled into position in the airlock.

“Airlock depressurization in three.”

She waited, her heart hammering in her chest, feeling the sudden prickling.

She sighed she always had to pee before things like this. Then again, it could have been worse, the last flight she was on, her ovaries had felt like Darth Sidious was using force choke on them. There is nothing worse than flying a fighter jet when your body can’t tell the difference between cramps and needing a toilet.

Sound was sucked from the world as the airlock opened, and she gunned the engine, roaring silently into space and out towards the distressed transport ship.

The kree never saw her coming.

After all, she was the best pilot in the fleet, and she loved to fly.

None of them ever stood a chance

14 notes · View notes

must-be-brooklyn · 5 years

Note

javid on a date? but they keep getting interrupted by their stupid newsie children :p

Honestly, this would 100% happen, probably on every date they’ve ever had

Ship: Javid

Words: 3.2k

Era: Modern, university au

Okay, so! This kind of ended up being a bit longer than I planned on and also probably quite different to how you might have imagined it - so, I hope it’s okay at least!

Also! Sorry it took so long to fill this! I’m afriad I got quite busy...

An Anthology of Annoying Newsies Interrupting Jack and David’s Date

Part 1, Les

“But why?” Les moaned loudly and threw his hands down by his side like a stroppy child. “I don’t want to stay here with Sarah! She’s gonna make me cook more Hamantaschen and we already did that all of yesterday!” He threw one last, desperate glare at David. “Please, it’s not even near Purim!”

David sighed and put his hands on his hips, feeling exactly like his mother. “Jack and I have a date. No, you cannot come. Anyway, Sarah makes pretty good Hamantaschen.”

Fixing him with an utterly betrayed look, Les scowled. “No, she really doesn’t.”

“Well, you can help her get better then,” David said. He turned away from Les, toward the front door to pull on a pair of shoes.

Les huffed as he followed him. “Please, take me with you!”

David turned very slowly to face Les and gave him look that he hoped said everything. “You are not coming on my date.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Les stomped away, making each step as loud as possible and slamming every day he passed. At times like these, David suddenly remembered exactly why he did not come home from university except for on breaks. Teenage mood swings.

Part 2, Specs

Jack’s hand was wrapped tightly around David’s and their arms swung between them as they walked down the trail in the path. The light filtered through leaves of the trees, creating a pretty, dappled effect that was almost worthy of breaking the spell of silence on David’s Instagram.

“I’m so glad it’s holidays,” Jack sighed. He squeezed David’s hand tightly. “It sucks not seeing you during term time.”

David laughed lightly. “It could’ve been worse,” he said, “At least we have video messengers now.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack paused for a second and looked at David carefully, as if he was studying every single freckle on his face. “Don’t mean I don’t miss you.”

“I missed you, too,” David said, mouth twitching up into a smile, “But assuming we don’t fail our courses, we’ll graduate in a few months, and then who knows what’ll happen. Let’s just make the most of the time we have now.”

Jack nodded as he grinned. “Suppose so. Includin’ this date. You’re still up for coffee?”

“When am I ever not up for coffee?” David laughed, even though it wasn’t very funny.

Jack’s eyes only grew warmer, though. “Well, yeah, that was a bit of a stupid question.” He started walking, holding onto David’s hand a little more tightly.

“Hey! Jack! Davey!”

David stopped again, looking around where they stood, searching for the source of the voice. Then, his eyes locked onto a familiar figure with a lithe frame and large glasses that he somehow managed to pull off perfectly.

“Specs?” Jack said, sounding somewhere between shocked and confused as he turned towards him. “What’re you doin’ here?”

Specs shrugged. “Just going for a run. I’m back from college for a few weeks.” He gestured to both of them. “What’re you doin’ here, though? I thought you’d both be overtime at this point studyin’ for your exams or something.”

Jack raised their intertwined hands. “Date.”

“Oh…” Spec’s face flushed. “That’s, uh, cool. Still going strong then?” He frowned slightly and backtracked quickly. “I mean, obviously you are. I’ll leave you to it!”

David smiled at him. “It’s nice to see you again. Maybe we could catch up sometime before we all go back to college next term?”

Relaxing slightly, Specs smiled back at him. “Yeah, that’d be good. Me and Romeo were talking about organising a catch up for our old club sometime. Maybe we could do that these holidays?”

“That’d be cool,” David agreed. “Talk later, though?”

Specs nodded. “Yeah, bye. I’ll text you.” He jogged away from them, waving as he went.

Turning to each other and exchanging a look, Jack and David peeled off into giggles.

Part 3, Race

Their phones would not stop buzzing. That in itself was not so unusual; they were college students with busy lives. Notifications in themselves were not out of the ordinary. As they sat down in the park with disposable coffee cups in the hands, though, the text messages kept pinging in synchrony.

David gave Jack a sideward look as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Even as he scanned down the screen, more text messages kept appearing. All of them were in a variety of barely discernible text-talk, emojis and a lot of capital letters. They were also all from –

“Race,” David said, showing his phone to Jack.

Jack groaned. “Of course it is. Mute him.”

“Jack!” David exclaimed. Nonetheless, he pulled his phone out and muted the new chat that Race had created. “He’ll probably just start another one in a bit if we don’t reply to him,” he said as he did so.

Shrugging, Jack did the same on his own phone. “It’s his problem he’s interrupting us.”

“He won’t see if that way.”

Jack laughed as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and moved a little closer to David. “Well, we’ll deal with that later. For now, I just wanna get back to where we were.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You’re disgusting!” David exclaimed, unable to hold back a smile, “We’re in the middle of the park!”

Part 4, Mike and Ike

Their coffees were almost finished and Jack had wrapped his arm around David’s shoulders in the overly confident way that he always did when they got to spend time together.

“Have you decided what you’re gonna do next year?” Jack asked.

David crossed his left leg over his right leg and wrapped his hands more tightly around his half-empty coffee cup. “I think I might do a teaching qualification…” He trailed off uncertainly. “But, I’ll need to get a scholarship or re-enrol for a bursary or something so that I can afford it.” He sighed and tapped his fingers restlessly. “Maybe not, though, I don’t know.”

“Like, become a teacher?”

Hesitantly, David nodded. “I love tutoring the kids on the weekend… So, I figure that maybe education would be an interesting job… I mean, I could teach history, or languages, or something like that.”

“You’d be an awesome teacher,” Jack said fondly. He turned to give David a peck on the cheek.

David bought his cup to his mouth and took a sip, humming under his breath. “What about you, then? Have you finalised anything?”

Jack opened his mouth to say something when he felt someone tapping on his shoulder. Freezing, he pivoted slowly until he came face to face with Ike, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Uh, hello?” Jack said slowly.

Mike appeared in front of them. “Which way is the exit?”

David went motionless, too. “The exit?” he repeated, sounding completely confused. “What do you mean?”

Ike walked around the bench to stand next to his twin. “Like he said. Quickest way to get to the upper east side?” He grinned but looked extremely sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head with a tense hand.

Pointing somewhere to the left of them, Jack spoke again. “Why’d you need to know?”

“Don’t know this park well enough,” Ike said with a careless shrug.

Mike nodded. “Yeah, we’s from the other side of town.”

David stared at them, not believing them for a second but reluctant to call them out on it. They had been born and bred in New York and knew every corner of Manhattan, as well as a definitely-above-average amount about the other districts.

“Well, we’s goin’, then,” Ike said. “See you later!” He pulled his twin away and they disappeared almost immediately down another path that David had not even noticed before.

Jack crossed his arms in front of him. “That was weird.”

“Someone put them up to it?” David said with an unenthusiastic laugh.

Jack shook his head, eyes still on the corner that they had disappeared around. “Knowin’ our luck? Probably.”

David tapped his fingernails on the carboard cup a few times, drilling some movement back into them. “So, your art, then? What were you saying?”

Part 5, Elmer

Unfortunately, even if the chat that Race had made had been put on silent, the rest of David’s phone’s notifications were still as loud as ever. That became very apparent when, in the middle of their conversation, they were once again disturbed by a phone call.

Rolling his eyes, David retrieved his phone and checked the caller.

“It’s Elmer,” he said hesitantly, “I probably shouldn’t miss it.”

Jack gestured for him to go ahead and focused his attention on the last dregs of coffee in his cup. They were cold by now, and particularly bitter in comparison to the rest of his drink. Nonetheless, he swilled them around a little until they collected and then downed them in one.

All the while, he half listened to David speaking quietly on the phone. It was all in Polish and he could not understand a word, so he drummed his fingers distractedly on his knees and waited for the call to end.

At the rate they were going, Jack was relatively sure that this date would turn out to be more about their friends than it was to do with them. He could not say he honestly had a problem with that – his friends were very important – but he wished that it did not all have to happen when he was trying to have a nice date with David.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time David hung up.

“What was he callin’ about?” Jack asked.

David pulled a face. “There’s a Special Shabbat coming up soon and he wanted to know if he could do something with my family because his foster family isn’t Jewish, and he doesn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

Jack nodded slowly. “You’ll do that, then?”

“My parents would’ve invited him over, even if he hadn’t bought it up,” David said with a small smile. “He and Les get on really well, too, they’ll be happy.” He glanced back down at his phone and finally turned the whole device onto silent.

Jack watched him do it, smirking slightly. “You hopin’ that they won’t call no more?”

“I think they’d find ways around it even if I tried,” David sighed, pocketing his phone and picking up his coffee cup. Like Jack’s, it was empty. “D’you want to walk for a bit?”

Jack stood up, agreeing with David immediately. “We could go back to my place? Spot’s at work and Crutchie won’t bother us, even if he is at home right now.” He extended a hand to David and pulled him up, too.

“What about Medda?” David asked, wrapping his hand with Jack’s and walking vaguely in the direction of a bin to through their cups out.

Jack shrugged. “Mom? Pretty sure she’s at the theatre, today. She won’t mind, anyway.”

Part 6, Albert

“Albert, why the hell are you standin’ behind a tree?”

“I didn’t mean to watch you kissin’! But It was your fault for doin’ it in the middle of the park.”

Part 7, Romeo

By the time that Jack’s phone rang, David was more or less resigned to the fact that this date was not one that they were actually going to get through without interruptions every second minute. Even so, he could not stop himself from letting out a low moan.

“It’s Romeo,” Jack said to David, pulling the phone up to his ear. “Does this have to be right now?”

They stopped walking and pushed to the edge of the pavement, standing pressed up against the window. David allowed himself to tune out of the conversation, instead trying to remember one date when they had actually managed to get through without seeing or talking to someone else on it.

Given that they had been dating for almost three years – since midway through their senior year in high school – he could only recall a worryingly low number.

Jack turned to look at David with blown eyes. He seemed to be trying to communicate something through his expression, but David had absolutely no idea exactly what it was. He stared back in return, trying to work out what he meant when Jack suddenly pressed the phone into his hand.

“Dating advice,” he muttered.

David looked at him, disbelief feeling like it was swallowing him up.

Jack just shrugged at him and David shook his head, resigned. “Hey, Romeo.”

Romeo wasted no time before getting into the questions. “So, as the resident team Mom, any advice on the best way to tell a guy that I wanna stop fuckin’ him and start properly kissin’ him?”

Spluttering, David struggled to reply. It was going to be a long walk back to Jack’s family apartment.

Part 8, Buttons

“Hey, Buttons,” Jack said reflexively as he walked past.

Buttons spun around, newspapers stuffed messily into the bag swung over his shoulder and a bright yellow vest making sure he stood out a thousand miles from the rest of the people in the street.

“Jack! Davey!” He bounded over too them with far too much energy. “Hi! I can’t stay, I’ve got to finish my afternoon paper route! But it’s nice to see you! I didn’t know you were back for the break!” He spoke very quickly and with an almost unreasonable amount of enthusiasm. Sometimes, David struggled to understand how he was always so upbeat about everything.

Jack waved at him awkwardly. “See you another time, then?”

Buttons nodded excitedly. “Sure! That’d be cool!”

Part 9, Finch

David was immediately thrown off guard by Finch hurling himself into David’s arms as Jack opened the door to his apartment. “Finch?” He detached himself a little so that he could see his face and was alarmed the distressed expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I was-“ His voice was immediately strained and worried. “My Dad called and he said that my brother is sick and I need to pick up something from the chemist on the way home.”

All at once, David was on high alert and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jack stiffen, too. “D’you need a ride or anything?” David asked carefully, “Or help with the medicine?”

Finch shook his head slowly. “It’s just an asthma refill. And, I’m only living like five minutes away from here, anyway.” He gave them both a very weak smile. “Thanks, though.” David knew not to push the topic. Over the years, he had adjusted slowly to the fact that some people saw the acceptance of help as something to be avoided at all costs.

He knew when to cross that line and refuse to take no for an answer, but David had also learnt that sometimes he just needed to accept that independence was an important virtue.

Jack braced him on the shoulders before he went any further. “Remember to breathe, okay? Your brother is gonna be fine with you watchin’ out for him.”

Finch looked at him, expression still brittle, but eyes perhaps a fraction more determined. “I know.” He walked past them and turned right down a stairwell in the old building.

David looked after him, worried. “He’ll be fine,” he said, more to himself than to Jack.

“Of course, he will,” Jack agreed easily. David could still hear the strain under his voice. “This has happened before. He gets easily worked up about his family and worries a lot about things that don’t need to be worried about.”

Chewing on his lip, David crossed his arms tightly over his chest and nodded. He knew Jack was right.

“C’mon, then,” Jack said, steering him inside the apartment, “Let’s get some food and some privacy.”

Part 10, Crutchie

David was curled up next to Jack, both of them lying on his bed, and hugging him tightly. It was a warm, comfortable position and David was oddly content just lying there and making the most of the moment. His arms were tightly looped around Jack and he snuggled closer to him, treasuring a bit of privacy and quiet.

Jack’s fingers swept through David’s hair, slowly teasing the dark curls and messing up the almost redundant attempt that David had made to control his hair that morning.

“I really love you,” Jack said very softly. He pushed himself up on one arm so that he could lean closer to give David a quick kiss. “You know that, right?”

David looked up at him and smiled. “I know. I love you, too.”

Grinning slightly wolfishly, Jack pushed himself closer to David so that he was leaning over him and then lowered himself down until he was half lying on top of him.

“You’re pretty comfortable, too,” Jack remarked.

David stared at Jack and raised an eyebrow. “I’m, like, ninety per cent bones,” David said with a deadpan face.

Jack did his best to shrug from his position. “Well, I still think you’re a good pillow.”

“I’ll add that to my CV, then,” David said teasingly. He craned his neck to kiss Jack’s lips. Jack relaxed into the kiss and dropped forwards, one hand on David’s chest to balance himself, and the other wound tightly into his hair.

The door opened with a thud and Jack and David jumped apart like they had been burnt.

“Oh, my God,” Crutchie said despairingly, as he covered his eyes with the hand that was not holding his crutch. “Warn a guy, would you?”

“The door was closed,” Jack grumbled, running a hand through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to control it and sitting up. “That generally means don’t come in.”

Crutchie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Mom got home a few minutes ago, and wants to know if you’re stayin’ for dinner, Davey.”

David struggled to look at Crutchie straight in the eyes. He could feel his face glowing with heat. “Uh, yeah, that’d be nice, thanks,” he said hesitantly, exchanging a small look with Jack. “Only if it’s no trouble, of course.”

“It’s vegan or something, so it’ll be fine for Kosher,” Crutchie offered. David nodded with a thankful smile. Neither he, his siblings, nor his parents adhered strictly to Kosher except on special occasions, but it was always touching to see that someone else had remembered it.

“You can get back to your make-out session, now, or whatever you was doin’ before,” Crutchie said. He closed the door behind him as he left.

Jack flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Dave, this wasn’t much of a date.”

“It was perfect just as it was,” David said, bestowing a small kiss on the tip of his nose, before lying down next to him and staring at the off-white celling. “I mean, let’s be honest, what kind of a date would it be if we weren’t interrupted ten times at least?”

Jack laughed slightly. “Obviously not one of ours.”

19 notes · View notes

deadpanprincess · 6 years

Note

Dude I have no idea when you posted the writing prompts post but if you're still doing it I'd kill to see you do a Rogue One prompt fill for #8 😂

SO THIS TOOK FOREVER I’M SORRY BUT IT’S LONG SO MAYBE THAT MAKES UP FOR IT?!?!

The shelter is quiet–besides the errant animal call. A cat meows for attention, a dog rustles the newspaper in their cage. Jyn contents herself by measuring out portions of kibble. After this morning’s mess, which completely destroyed her lab coat, she’s more than fine with the quiet.

Of course, the bell above the door jingles before she can finish that thought. Someone’s here.

He walks in with all the nerves of a never-owner: shoulders slightly hunched towards his ears, eyes down, hands in his pockets. A tall, but thin, man with unruly dark hair and a messy bit of fuzz around his tightly drawn mouth. He is not the kind of visitor Jyn wants to the shelter. She much prefers the children that run to the cages and stick their fingers in to scratch every good dog or cat behind the ears. They’re the ones that convince even the strictest parents to say yes to a rescue animal. With large eyes and tears, or sunny smiles and quick clapping hands, they forge a new family around their chosen stray.

And if the comparison to her own estranged family stings, well.

“Do you work here?”

The man has an accent she can’t place. Latin, definitely, but not from Spain. His posture and soft voice take on a new meaning. Maybe he’s not just browsing, but unsure of how to ask for what he needs.

Jyn dusts a bit of fur off her pants and stands up. A group of chihuahuas, pomeranians, and yorkies jostle for the food bowls she just filled.

“Yup.” She points to the badge at the left side of her chest. Volunteer, Liana. Not her name or position, but all he needs to know. The man scratches at his jaw–discomforted, maybe. His face doesn’t change expression, so Jyn can’t tell what has him fidgeting.

“I’m looking for a dog,” he says.

“Most people are.”

His eyes flick down to the small dogs weaving excitedly around their feet. “I live in a small apartment, and work quite a bit from home. Maybe one of these…?”

She snorts. Jyn can only imagine this man, quiet and just this side of awkward, strolling down the street with a bright pink leash attached to the collar of a pocket princess weighing no more than eight pounds. He would probably jump every time the tiny monster yapped or tried to defend its territory.

“Have you ever seen a raging Pomeranian?” She challenges.

The man finally raises his eyes to her, wide. They’re dark brown, but the bright sunlight filtering through the window gives them hints of amber. Like the eyes of a chocolate lab. Soulful, sorrowful, wanting.

The expression slams a breath loose from her chest. Too familiar. Jyn ducks beneath a caustic cover.

“Yeah, thought so. C’mon.” With a quick jerk of her shoulder Jyn leads him farther back into the maze of cages. A heather grey pit perks up his ears as they pass. A couple of the newly littered puppies scramble against the bars, whining. Jyn tosses treats to her favorites as they go. The older coonhound with a black-grey muzzle, the bulldog she pulled from a fight ring, the husky with only three legs.

She doesn’t look behind her to see how the man handles so many broken animals. Yet, she feels his focus like a tangible thing. Each time she pauses, he stops just behind her and devotes a little bit of himself to the hurt creatures. Just a bare moment of his time to acknowledge their pain before moving on with her.

They come to a stop at the back of the shelter at a cage taller than her 152 centimeters. A Great Dane stands guard at the lock. He’s black as polished onyx. His short hair coat lies completely flat against his back. The only bright spot is the icy blue of his eyes. He tracks Jyn’s movements toward the cage, and examines the man next to her. Those blue, blue eyes carefully filing away each movement and detail. Nothing escapes his notice.

“Give me a sec. He’s not good with new people.” Jyn holds out a hand to keep the man back, and carefully unlocks the cage. She doesn’t have to bend down. The dog is almost half her height. She just holds out a treat, which he sniffs with regal caution. Then places his snout against her hand and vacuums the snack into his mouth with a tremendous suction of air. The man behind her laughs. Not at the dog, really, but almost with him. Like the contrast between the tightly wound animal he was a moment ago, and the goofy dog who now has a bit of slobber on his jowls.

“Alright,” Jyn says, pressing her own little smile down. “This is K2-SO. Strange name, but that’s the one he came with. We got him from a make up testing facility, so he’s well trained and doesn’t need much space. He’s a bit–” Robotic is the word most people have used. It’s the reason no one will adopt him despite his beauty and docile demeanor. They all want dogs with wide, open personalities. Jyn has seen beneath his controlled movements to the sweet, silly dog that lies beneath, but few take the time to get to know him.

The man steps forward into the cage with her. His arm brushes her shoulder as he kneels down. Face to muzzle with Kay. Which, isn’t recommended in case the dog reacts poorly, but.

“Hello. I’m Cassian.” The man–Cassian–holds out his hand for Kay to sniff. The dog snuffles against the weathered texture of his palms. Kay pauses. Both Jyn and Cassian hold their breath. Then Kay nuzzles forward, scratching his own chin against the meatiest part of Cassian’s hand.

“Hi there! Yes! It’s very nice to meet you too!” His voice doesn’t rise or fall into baby talk. It’s still soft and patient, but Jyn hears the excitement underneath. Kay presses further into the praise. He rests his snout on Cassian’s palm, blue eyes focusing intently on Cassian.

Cassian reaches his free hand to give long, steady scratches along Kay’s spine. If Jyn didn’t know better, she would swear Kay purrs.

Man and dog continue to stare at each other, completely enraptured. Jyn’s a little entranced herself. The rhythmic scritch of Cassian’s nails and Kay huffing in time melts some of the ever present stress off her shoulders.

“I would like to take him home.” A question masquerading as a statement. Cassian defers to Jyn’s experience with Kay, trusting her to know what’s best for him.

It doesn’t hit the pit beneath her rib cage with a solid punch. Not at all.

“Yes–yes. That’s a good idea.” Breaking from her reverie, Jyn unloops the leash from around her neck and clips it to Kay’s collar. She hands the lead to Cassian, who stays by her side as she takes them back to the shelter’s reception. Kay trots along with no resistance, keeping his ear against Cassian’s thigh so that the three of them are a tight fit between the cage aisles. Jyn’s shoulder keeps bumping into Cassian’s arm, her legs brushing the other side of Kay, the heat of them warming her from the toes up.

At the counter, Jyn helps Cassian fill out the adoption forms. And she absolutely does not record his answers for her own curiosity. It just so happens that she sees him check single, and lives alone, and gainfully employed as a photojournalist. All of which her brother would call jackpot items, but Jyn knows is nothing more than census details. Which have no pertinence to her. None whatsoever.

“Sit, Kay,” Cassian asks the dog as he tries to get a better writing vantage. Kay just presses closer, shoving him a bit so that Cassian trips over his own feet and into Jyn. She steadies him. A fleeting hand on his worn leather jacket, his palm just glancing her hip. For a too long moment they share the same air. She’s sucking in his surprised breath, his eyes flick from hers to her lips. It’s–electric. A shock to the cold that usually resides in the tips of her fingers.

He backs up, like she really did shock him. Her hand trails from his coat back to her side.

“Sorry,” he says. Cassian’s gaze is back up, but he looks just behind her now. A tinge of pink runs up his cheeks.

“I can help with him,” Jyn says suddenly, bypassing the usual round of courtesies. Her heart races and she can’t pause. Words fall out of her mouth without her permission.

“Um?” Cassian’s lips thin, obviously confused.

“With Kay. I can help you train him.”

“Oh, I couldn’t–”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Comes with the territory.”

“Volunteers usually do this?”

Jyn scratches her calf with the toe of her boot. So, okay. Admitting to this man that she misled him regarding her identity will not inspire his confidence or trust. But it wasn’t intentional. How was she to know that he would be soft and kind despite his initial recalcitrance? Or that she, of all people, would find him interesting? And that this one time she wishes someone knows her real name?

“I’m not exactly a volunteer.”

His eyebrows fold together, forming a wrinkle just above the sharp jut of his nose.

“Oh?”

“And my name’s not Liana.”

Cassian’s jaw twitches. Like his teeth are pressed so tight together that a muscle jumps to prevent lockjaw. Jyn grips the back of her neck and tilts her cheek into her shoulder. Into the stupid vest that caused this mess. Though, if she is going to be petty, she might as well blame the cat that threw up on her lab coat this morning.

“It’s Jyn, actually.”

He licks his lips. The silence between them ripples with discomfort. Kay whines, breaking the tension.

“What do you really do here, Jyn?” Cassian asks.

Well–it’s actually hard to think when he says her name like that. Testing it against his tongue, rolling it on the roof of his mouth despite its brevity. Like he can figure out exactly who she is from her name alone.

She beats back the urge to retreat and meets his eyes. His brows still furrow, but with the same patient, non judgemental look she’s seen from her patients.

“I’m the vet.”

“Oh.”

And the tension in his face eases a bit. Just a smidge of release in the cords of his neck. He doesn’t trust her, not yet. But he believes her or he wants to or maybe her job actually makes sense considering how confident she is around all the animals. Whatever the explanation, Jyn feels comfortable enough to lay her hand atop Kay’s head. The dog stays close to Cassian, but accepts the gentle touch.

“I could assist you with training him. Great Danes are incredibly intelligent, and Kay is smarter than most. Sometimes he’s a little shit about it, too. He obviously knows what you’re saying, but prefers to get a rise out of you for the attention,” she says.

Kay huffs, breath puffing warm against Jyn’s leg.

“See? Monster knows I’m talking about him right now.”

Cassian actually breaks the thin line of his mouth towards a smile.

“It doesn’t take much, just a firm hand. But with his size it’ll be good to make sure he doesn’t knock anything over in your flat because he’s excited to be with you,” Jyn continues, because that’s her mouth running off without her.

“I don’t have much he could break,” Cassian admits. His wry almost-smile pulls an actual grin from her.

“Sounds like you’re ready to own a dog then.”

The conversation reaches a natural lull and the two of them just look at each other, smiling slightly, unsure how to proceed. Kay sighs. His massive block head points towards the floor like he’s fed up with her. Again. Cassian eyes his new pet and then Jyn.

“Is such exasperation normal?”

“You’ve picked a dog with personality, mate. He’s just hid it from everyone else but you.”

“And you,” Cassian says. Jyn blushes. Like he’s given her a compliment.

“I guess so,” she demurs.

“No one better to help bring out more, then.”

“You want him to have more of an attitude?” All this smiling is making her cheeks hurt.

“I want him to be who he is.”

That sobers her. Jyn scratches under Kay’s chin. He leans into her touch, but there’s still a frustration in his blue eyes. Like: You two are complete morons and have not mastered the basic rituals of mating. Could you please cease the pretence that this conversation is about me and just exchange information so I can make myself comfortable in a home without a cage?

But she’s probably just projecting. Jyn boops his nose, which makes Kay rearback with a hefty sneeze and shake. Cassian jolts with the movement. He’s pulled backwards and Jyn yanks on the leash to keep him from toppling. Both he and Kay lurch forward. Kay only moves a large paw or two, but Cassian actually trips and falls into Jyn. Chest to chest. Knee to knee. Probably toe to toe. Fuck, but he’s warm. And his leather jacket has the clear smell of cilantro.

“Sorry, sorry!” Cassian backs up quickly, trying to pull Kay with him, but the dog doesn’t budge. “C’mon, boy. We need to give Jyn her space.” Kay just wags his tail in a steady back and forth, enjoying the sound of Cassian’s voice.

Cassian looks to Jyn with a soft flush. “I guess training would be helpful.”

Jyn smirks, but doesn’t comment. At least he’s man enough to admit when he needs a hand.

“Gimme your phone,” she says instead.

He passes her the leash, not that Kay looks to be going anywhere, and fumbles for his pockets. A quick shuffle that jingles his keys brings out a weathered iPhone. Jyn trades him the lead and inputs her information. Email and cell, because it never hurts to be thorough.

“Jyn Erso–everything else you need to know is in there,” she says while handing the phone back.

Another brief pseudo-smile flashes and he says with all seriousness, “Not everything.”

Which makes it Jyn’s turn to blush. She can feel the heat in her cheeks, for fuck’s sake. Cassian seems to enjoy it, eyes lingering even as he readies himself to leave. The phone returns to his pocket, Kay’s leash loops around his wrist, and his jacket zips tightly closed. He fucking smirks the whole time; no attempt at suppression.

“Get out of here,” Jyn shoos him towards the door before her face bursts into flames.

“I–” Kay interrupts him with a hearty woof “–we will see you soon!” Cassian calls, while Kay pulls him out the door.

Jyn returns to the kennel with a happy shake of her head.

#sleepykalena #rebelcaptain #au #dogs!#yay!#royal writing #the bold represents the prompt

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thisisnotacreativeusername · 6 years

Text

Live

archiveofourown link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868644

***

Connor Murphy couldn’t live for himself.

He knew that’s what everyone said: live for yourself, external things are only temporary, find things about yourself that you like and live for them.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t find anything about himself that he could live for.

~~~

Evan usually didn’t talk much. He was anxious constantly, too afraid of embarrassing himself or messing up to say too much at once. Occasionally, he would ramble, backtracking and apologizing all the while.

That’s why this was such an accomplishment.

Connor didn’t know if Evan had realized it, but he had been talking for over ten minutes. First, it had been something cool he’d seen about giant squid and the fact that the ocean was unfathomably terrifying. Then it had been how the rainforest was also pretty terrifying(“Can you imagine? Plants can choke trees to death. Like a snake. That’s so scary.”) Then it had been Evan’s favorite trees.

Connor didn’t mind. He found it kind of endearing, actually. It was nice to just listen to someone talk about something they were passionate about.

They were in Connor’s room, with Connor lying on his bed and Evan sitting on the floor, facing the wall as he talked.

“Did you know sycamore trees are called buttonball trees sometimes? Because of the shape of their fruit. If I had a dog, I’d probably name it Sycamore. Just because I like the tree so much. Or Bonsai. Oh, and they’re super tall, too! Like, over 100 feet. But redwood trees are taller, they can get to, like, 300 feet,” Evan said. He glanced back at Connor with a grin on his face. He paused, seeming to realize how long he had been talking.

“So, um. Yeah.” Evan trailed off.

Connor frowned. There was silence between them for a couple minutes. Evan tapped his fingers on the floor and Connor pulled out his phone when a thought occurred to him.

“Hey, Hansen,” he started.

Evan looked back up at him, expression questioning.

“What the fuck is the difference between aspen trees and birch trees?”

A small smile spread across Evan’s face.

“Well, birch trees have easily peelable bark-”

~~~

Connor reached for the nearest thing- his honors English required reading- and threw it as hard as he could across the room. It hit the wall with a bang and he could hear the shelves in the hallway rattle.

He grabbed the next thing- a notebook his therapist had told him to write down his anxieties in- and chucked it at the wall. It made a smack instead of a thud. The rattling was quieter, but he could still hear it.

The next thing. A mug, containing all of his pencils. Connor stopped and looked at it for a moment. There was nothing special about it. It was just a plain white mug. But it made him pause.

Suddenly, there were tears in his eyes. He put the mug back down and took a step backward. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. Connor hiccupped and wiped his eyes with his fist.

Connor sat down heavily and pushed himself backward until his back was against the wall and he couldn’t see into the hallway through the doorway. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like this, but he had quickly run out of energy to cry and just stared numbly at the edge of the doorway.

Eventually, the silence was broken.

The sound of a gentle knock on the doorframe was sudden and shocking. Connor jolted, blinking out of his trance.

Slowly, hesitantly, Zoe took a step into the room. She was tense. Her arms were stuck to her sides and her fists were clenched around a small object.

Connor didn’t say anything and just looked at her with confusion. Why would she willingly come into his room? Why was she here? Why was she here? Why was she here?

Zoe cleared her throat. “Um. I, uh, heard that you were. Um. Angry? And I thought, um, that maybe we could, uh, we could do something to help, like, um. Get your, uh, get your mind off of it. Or something,” she said. Her eyes were focused just above Connor, refusing to meet his own.

Connor furrowed his brow.

“I. Uh. I brought nail polish?” she said. She loosened her grip on the small object and held it out, revealing a bottle of dark, navy blue polish. “We could watch a movie, too.”

Connor nodded slightly. “Spider-Man 2?” he asked, voice slightly raspy.

Zoe smiled. “Sure thing.”

“Can we move to your room?” Connor said.

Zoe bit her lip and looked back at the hallway. “Yeah, sure.”

Zoe’s room was way different than the last time he had been in here. Then again, Connor didn’t even remember when the last time was. Middle school? Elementary?

The walls were a soft blue, lit up by the sunlight that filtered in through sheer white curtains. A white bookcase was pushed up against the left wall, bursting with YA romance novels, high fantasy books, and sheet music. Zoe’s guitar leaned up against the shelf. A couple posters of old Gershwin musicals and Marvel movies were hanging up at irregular intervals, and there were glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling.

Connor remembered those stars. They both got some when they were little and had stuck them up together. The only thing remaining of the stars in his room were sad stains. He kind of missed them.

Zoe sat down on the bed and grabbed her laptop. She patted the comforter next to her, gesturing for Connor to sit down next to her. He did, albeit a little awkwardly. They watched the first ten minutes of the movie while Connor chipped of the remnants of his nail polish, and then Zoe unscrewed a base coat and carefully painted it on his nails.

“You’re a lot better at this than I am,” he said. Zoe startled and looked up.

“Well, it’s clear, so you can’t really see all of the mistakes I’ve made.”

They lapsed back into silence. Connor looked back at the movie while Zoe moved on to paint the dark blue, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she frowned in concentration.

This was nice. Connor looked back at Zoe, looked at how they were sitting, looked at how… normal this was. How normal it felt.

Zoe finished with a top coat.

“There. Nice and pretty,” she said. Connor examined his nails. They were smooth and shiny, not a single drop on his cuticles. He smiled.

Connor hung out in Zoe’s room a lot more after that.

~~~

Connor did not want to go to the cafeteria today. He had a… run-in with some people earlier, and he didn’t want to have to interact with them again.

He waited off to the side of the cafeteria doors, barely looking inside. Just barely, he could spot the pastel blue of Evan’s shirt towards the back. He didn’t go in.

“Connor?”

Connor spun around, his heart racing. Alana Beck stood in front of him, clutching her books tight to her chest. “Hi,” he said.

Alana shifted her weight. “You aren’t going into the cafeteria,” she noted.

Connor blinked. He nodded.

“If you want, you can sit with me in the library,” Alana said.

Connor was taken aback. Did she really want that? The library was probably a better option than just hanging out by the doors, though.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Alana beamed.

The corner of the library they had chosen was cozy, with those plush stools in between bookshelves and fake trees(the kind that were brown paper stapled to the wall in the shape of a trunk with construction paper leaves spreading over the ceiling).

Alana was copying things from one notebook into a separate notebook. She looked up and caught Connor looking at her. “It helps with memorization,” she said. “Some kind of study was done on it, I think. And my notes are usually kind of messy when I first take them.”

“Hey, at least you take notes,” Connor said with a shrug. He put in his headphones and leaned back against the side of a bookshelf, letting his mind wander.

Eventually, lunch ended and Alana went to class, sending a parting smile in Connor’s direction.

The next day, Connor sat with Alana again.

~~~

Jared cornered Connor at the end of the day.

Connor was walking down the hallway, focusing on how he just had to make it to the door before he could get in his car and just go the fuck home when he felt an arm slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Connor, my buddy, my man!”

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

He didn’t remove his arm.

Instead, Jared adjusted his glasses and flicked his jacket with his free hand, no doubt in an attempt to look cool.

“So Evan has confirmed that you two are, in fact, friends,” Jared said, looking straight ahead with a smirk on his face.

Connor rolled his eyes. “If you’re here to say that it’s a miracle that the school freak has a friend or that Evan and me being friends is ridiculous or anything along those lines, you can kindly fuck off, Kleinman.”

Jared laughed. “No, I’m not here for that. Though, that would be funny.”

He guided Connor off to the side, out of the hallway traffic before turning and facing Connor. His smirk fell, and he looked dead serious. “Okay. Look. I’ve known Evan since forever. I know he’s too afraid of upsetting people to tell them when they’re upsetting him. He sure as hell isn’t going to tell you if you’ve done something wrong.”

Connor tilted his head. He hadn’t taken Jared for the protective type. “I- what-”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m glad Evan has another friend, but if you do something to hurt him, I’m going to find out and I will call you out on it.”

“I- okay. Yeah. Okay.”

Jared rubbed the back of his neck. “And, also? Evan isn’t perfect. He’s gonna mess up. So. Keep that in mind. Hey, can I see your phone?”

Connor frowned. “Why?”

“I’m gonna put my contact in it, dumbass.”

Bewildered, Connor typed in his passcode and handed Jared his phone. Jared put in his number, sent a text to himself, and handed it back.

“Coolio. See you around, my dude,” Jared said, and headed off in the opposite direction. He turned and called over his shoulder, “Oh, and communication is key! Remember that!”

Connor was left alone next to the lockers.

That was… one of the weirder conversations he’d had with Jared. His phone lit up with a notification.

From: ???

whats up my gay

guy*

thats a lie we all gay

thats just how it be on this bitch of an earth

To: ???

I mean, you’re not wrong.

Connor slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and went out to his car. Maybe being friends with Jared would be nice.

He was wrong. Being friends with Jared was a mistake and only led to being bombarded with extremely cursed images at 4 in the morning. Connor began to wonder if Jared was only pretending to be human and was secretly some sort of cryptid.

~~~

There were four people sitting in the living room with Connor.

He was friends with all of them.

It was a strange thing to think about. Connor Murphy, having friends. Who would’ve thought?

The TV was playing Shrek(Jared’s decision. Connor had wanted Spider-Man: Homecoming. Zoe wanted The Emoji Movie. Alana and Evan said they were down for whatever. Well, look what that led to). Two pizza boxes were open on the table, nearly empty. Soda cans were littered around the room. The movie had been forgotten in favor of talking amongst themselves.

“I’ve gotten into listening to podcasts recently,” Alana was saying. “I’ve been doing a lot of projects, and I realized that having something I can focus on while doing them is actually really helpful!”

Jared piped up from where he was sprawled across the couch. “The only podcasts I listen to are McElroy podcasts, I think. Some good quality jokes in there.”

Connor leaned back against the couch, sitting on the floor next to Evan. “You good?” he whispered. Evan looked over at him and nodded, smilingly gently. His face was flushed, and the light from the TV screen highlighted his freckles.

An empty soda can flew across the room and hit Jared in the face. “Ow! Shit!”

“That’s what you get! For that! Terrible! Extremely cursed! Concept!”

Evan chuckled. “What did he say?”

“Carbonated milk,” Alana said. Horror painted her features.

Connor closed his eyes. “I’ll do you one better,” he said. He paused dramatically for effect. “Carpeted kitchen.”

Zoe scoffed. “Ew, what the fuck?”

Connor just hummed in amusement. He could hear Evan laughing next to him, the sound slightly muffled. He imagined Evan was covering his mouth, but not quite enough to hide his smile.

~~~

Maybe Connor couldn’t live for himself.

But maybe Connor could live for somebody else.

fin.

#dear evan hansen #deh #connor murphy #alana beck #evan hansen #zoe murphy #jared kleinman #deh fic #dear evan hansen fic #deh angst #kinda #its real light if it even qualifies as angst #my writing #please reblog #i crave validation

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sugardaddycentral · 7 years

Text

Connor Murphy x Reader Born To Die Part 1

Summary: After his guidance counselor takes notice of Connor's abnormal behavior, he is sent to a support group against his will, where he meets a girl just as fucked up as he is.

Song Inspiration: Born To Die / Lana Del Rey

Word Count: 2k

"Now, let's begin!" the perky counselor started as she took her seat in the circle. "As you may know, I'm Nadine, your counselor." I rolled my eyes for probably the tenth time today. The circle was a lot smaller than it was last week, even smaller than usual. Normally only 5 or 6 kids actually come to these bullshit sessions. We're lucky enough to have parents who give a shit about our mental health, but were too broke to afford a psychiatrist or any real professional.

"Let's go around and tell each other our names and...a fun fact about ourselves and why we're here." Nadine started the session while she adjusted her abnormally large glasses.

I exhaled loudly through my nose. This was the same lame ass shit we did last week, and everybody already knew each other. I eventually tuned out after the first person introduced themselves. I reached for my phone in my back pocket and hid it in between my legs, looking up every so often so I wouldn't get caught.

It was the same mundane routine every day for me. Wake up, go to school, come to support group, and then go home. There was no fucking excitement other than when I get high. Those were the highlights of my day. It was going fine until my mom and dad found my stash and flushed it down the toilet and threw me in into this fucking support group. They thought that my weed was my problem. They don't know shit.

A voice cleared their throat. I frantically looked up from my phone, believing that it was Nadine. Instead, a tall, long haired, emo looking kid stood by the door frame. I slid my phone back into my pocket.

"You must be the new addition," Nadine said, looking down at her clipboard. "Come, take a seat! We were just starting." I examined this kid from head to toe. He had to be in my grade, almost graduating. His tangled hair rested easy on his shoulders. The bags under his eyes stood out the most on his face, besides his chiseled features. His lack of any other color besides black was aesthetically pleasing to the eye; even down to the chipped nail polish. He also happened to smell of weed, strong weed. He took a seat in the chair across from mine.

"(Y/N)? It's your turn," Nadine whispered obnoxiously loud. I let out another sigh and I stood to my feet.

"Okay uhm, I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," I started.

"Hi (Y/N)," the others answered very monotone, most likely not giving as much of a shit as I did.

"I'm here because I'm fucking depressed. Uh... and one fun fact about me is that I like to read." I slumped back in my seat. Nadine nervously chuckled before she proceeded to scribble something down on her clipboard. The circle of usual greetings continued until we reached the new kid.

He stood up. Although he was still slouching, he was tall as fuck.

"I'm Connor Murphy. I'm here because my fucking guidance counselor threw me in here." He introduced himself without skipping a beat.

"Hello Connor," Nadine grinned widely. "How about you tell us about your erm ...your condition?"

He scoffed. "Look, I'm just here to watch." A couple of the members, including me, stifled our laughter. Some didn't even bother to hold it in. He glared up at us all. His burning stare sent unsettling chills up my spine.

The second support group was over, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and fucking booked it. I swerved past anybody who got in my way. But thanks to my lack of coordination, I lost my footing on the curb and fell on the concrete, hard.

I also didn't happen to see the speeding car that was coming my way. The person behind the wheel honked.

"Out of the fucking street!" they yelled. I looked up to see that Connor kid shouting from out of the window of his ragged car that could easily fall apart with one touch.

"Yeah, hit me why don't you asshole?" I shouted back, giving him the middle finger, although I low-key wanted him to run me over. "End my fucking misery," I muttered as I gave the hood of his car a rough slap with the palm of my hand. Connor sped away as soon as I walked past the car. He gave a final honk.

I felt a burning sensation travel to my jawline and chin area. I flinched at my own touch as I went to feel the damage done. A few drops of blood stained my fingers. I fished my hand into my bag for any type of napkin. I pulled out a used paper towel and pressed it up against the scrape.

"Hi sweetie!" Mom greeted the second I walked through the door. Her effervescent mood earned another eye roll out of me.

Xanax was always recognizable.

I dropped my bag off at the entrance and slipped off my shoes. Mom stood by the counter prepping dinner. "Hi," I mumbled. My eyes darted over to Dad, who was too busy scribbling some shit down for his clients. He didn't even bother to make eye contact.

Mom clearly took notice. She placed her hand on my cheek and gave me a quick peck. She briefly caught ahold of my chin and inspected my scrape. "He's just a little busy, sweetheart," she said in a low voice. "Honey?" she called for him. "(Y/N)'s home from support group."

Without looking up from his book, he acknowledged that I was in the room. "Hi (Y/N). How was support group?"

I scoffed at his disinterest. "Like you fucking care," I answered before storming up to my room. I instantly flopped onto my bed and was greeted by my warm comforter. I let out a deep sigh. I tried remembering some of the bullshit techniques that Nadine introduced me to my first day.

Inhale...2...3...

Exhale....4...5...

But I couldn't even find solace in that. There was only one thing that would help me. I decided to wait until my parents went to bed to sneak out. I carefully unlocked my window, grabbed my keys, and went out through there since all of the doors made too much noise. I made a delicate landing onto the grass below. I started the car and drove off.

I drove off into the night with only one destination in mind. Only a few miles south from my house was a small park. Considering that it was close to midnight, there was a great chance that nobody would be there. I parked my car under one of the tall willow trees. I then reached into the glove compartment where I had a few pre-rolled joints and a lighter. I hopped up onto the hood of my car and took a drag.

It was nights like these that I lived for. Better yet, one of the only reasons I lived for. Whenever I felt like I was suffocating or like I couldn't breathe, I'd just walk or drive over to this park and drown myself in the serenity of it all. My weed was pretty much all I had left, besides my one friend. My parents luckily didn't find my small stash that I kept in my car.

"You can't fucking do that!" I screamed as I watched the green bits swirl down the toilet bowl.

"Yes we can (Y/N). This isn't healthy! You have a problem!" Dad shouted back. Mom stood by the doorway with her arms crossed. My heart felt like it was barbarically ripped apart.

I frantically ran my fingers through my hair. "What, and Mom's Xanax addiction is healthy!?" Mom's eyes misted up, Dad shot me a look of disappointment. It was nothing new.

I let out a puff of air. After the first few times, my lungs didn't burn anymore. A few leaves rustled in the distance. The sound was distinctly, like footsteps. I didn't bother to reach for my pocket knife. If I was going to die, let it happen while I've got drugs in me and I can die calm. The footsteps approached until a tall figure stood a couple of feet away from me.

"(Y/N), right?" a voice asked. My head perked up. I took another drag.

"Yeah, who's asking?" They stepped out of the shadow. The street lamp gave off just enough light for me to see their face. "You're Connor, right?" He nodded. I had about half of the joint left. I handed it over to him.

With all of the weed in my system, my nerves and whatever depressive residue slowly faded; for the time at least. I felt pretty fucking generous for once.

"Thanks," he muttered. He took a puff. I could practically see the stress melt off of his shoulders. He passed it back. He unconsciously rubbed his chin when he glanced over at me. "Uh, your chin..."

"Yeah, I noticed. Thanks for that, again," I said with clear distaste. He said nothing. There was nothing but silence, other than the occasional night creature and our coughs. The passing of the joint continued. One puff after the other.

I decided to break the silence. "So, you were dragged into support group too, huh?" Connor let out a couple of quiet coughs after he took a puff. We were nearing the filter.

"Uh, yeah. Some teacher I have thought that it would help me," he replied. I glanced over at him curiously. His hair framed his face perfectly; curls draped down to his shoulders. The light from the lamppost allowed me to fully be captivated by his features.

"My parents threw me into that support group because they think that I'm some fucking drug addict." I began to mindlessly rant to him like I had known him for years. "They think I'm some pill popping junkie. That's not me. That's my fucking mom. I don't get why they lecture me on me 'doing drugs' when my mom basically can't function without popping a Xanie once a day. They don't even fucking know that their only daughter is depressed out of her own mind. They don't know that I just want to fucking die!" Painful tears formed until my eyes were glossed. I let them fall one by one.

The silence was back. Connor was almost too stunned to speak. Words were caught in his throat after I unintentionally poured my heart out to him. I wiped the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. "Sorry, fuck," I mumbled. I finished off the joint and flicked it onto the ground before crushing it with the sole of my shoe.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, a secretive and sincere half smile faintly tugged at the corner of his lips. I then peered over my phone to check the time.

"Uh, I should get going. But uh, thanks for listening to me dump my problems onto you," I said. I opened the car door. Connor stepped away from the hood.

"No problem. And uh, thanks for the joint."

The day after was the same routine, as usual. Wake up, go to school, and then fucking support group. At least I sort of had something to look forward to rather than just sit at home.

I definitely wouldn't call Connor Murphy a friend. I still to this day think he's an asshole for almost running me over. The night before, he was a pair of ears that willingly listened to my ramblings. He probably listened to me more that night than my parents ever did in my entire life. But there was something about him that I admired about him that I couldn't put my finger on.

I shuffled into the room. The shitty fluorescent lighting flickered to an imaginary rhythm. The seat I usually sat in was kept empty for me. I stood by the doorway examining the scene. The usual group of 5 kids had been reduced to 4, excluding Connor and I. In retrospect, it was bound to happen more often than you'd think. It usually didn't take long until someone lost it or finally found better help.

"Hey," I heard Connor's familiar voice greet from behind. The obvious smell of pot lingered from him.

I let out a small chuckle. "You're fucking high," I said. I turned around to face him. His sapphire blue eyes were painfully bloodshot and hooded. He leaned against the doorway.

"Maybe a little." He flashed a smirk that made my cheeks heat up. Fuck, he's devilishly charismatic even when he's high. "But I can manage."

"I'll have whatever you're having," I muttered sarcastically under my breath. I then glanced over at the support group. Nadine hadn't arrived yet, and barely anybody showed up. An idea popped into my head. I reached for Connor's hand and grasped it tight. "Let's get out of here. They won't miss us." Without objection, he followed behind until we reached my car.

Connor was slumped in the passenger seat the majority of the ride. His eyes would often focus on what was going on outside. Our rebuttal as to what to eat was never ending.

"Literally fucking anything," was all he said. I grew impatient of myself trying to figure out what I wanted. The closest thing that open was a Shake Shack. I pulled into the parking lot and tried to help Connor out of his seat, but all he did was swat my hand away and told me to "fuck off."

"Be grateful I'm getting you food," I fired back. Both Connor and I ordered burgers. Even without the munchies I felt almost as hungry as he was. I watched as he ate every last bite like it was his last. As he went to take a sip of his soda, strands of his hair fell over his eyes. I tried my hardest not to stare. I couldn't say the same for him though.

"What?" I asked. Connor shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing's it's just... thanks," he said quietly. "Thanks for...this." He struggled to find the right words to explain what he had. It wasn't exactly a friendship just yet, but it sure as hell felt better than being alone. A pale hue of pink threatened to color his cheeks.

#dear evan hansen #connor murphy #connor murphy fanfiction #dear evan hansen fanfic #dear evan hansen imagine #broadway #fanfiction #imagine #sorry this took so long #mike faist #evan hansen #jared kleinman #ben platt

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talesofmundanemagic · 7 years

Text

Gertie and Bridget join a club

“COME JOIN THE MAGIC CLUB,” read big, bold letters on a flyer pinned to the dorm bulletin board, impossible for Gertie to miss even before her morning tea.

Meeting in faculty sponsor Mr. Jerson’s room, Haste 209, Fridays from 4-5. Don’t have to bring anything but yourselves! Sincerely, Club President Charlie Nessing.

***

Gertie managed to drag Bridget and Ernest along with her to the meeting, while Vivien came willingly.

“It’s those guys who beat up Jodie and Nick and their group,” Ernest said. “Do we really need more bullies in our lives?”

“Maybe there will be others who are interested in magic,” Gertie argued. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have more friends?”

Gertie wore a black, wide-brimmed hat that she wore to functions where entertainment was key. The flyer didn’t state to bring any magical demonstrations, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt.

As they walked, she practiced releasing colorful sparks from her hands, using the powers granted to her by the hat. She even managed to shape them into a heart before they fizzled away.

Some other students were in Mr. Jerson’s room already - a few that Gertie recognized, but most she had never seen. Gertie ignored the urge to sit in her assigned seat, and sat in the front row with her friends.

“Nice to see you here,” Mr. Jerson, her Potion’s teacher, said to her, his smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

Gertie nodded, nervous energy coming out in drumbeats from her fingertips.

More students filtered in as the clock ticked on. Marissa Hanler, a straight A student, came and sat in front, begging to be noticed by Mr. Jerson. Darryl Fudin, another classmate, came in and sat behind Gertie.

“I thought you’d be here too,” he said with a grin.

“I didn’t know you would!” she said, pleased that her potions tutoring had seemed to actually plant a seed of interest in magic.

“I mean, I have plenty of time in my schedule,” he said sarcastically. “What’s one more after-school activity? I can sneak pizza into the computer lab so I don’t have to eat while running to football practice.”

All together, the club consisted of about twenty-five members. Gertie beamed. There were so many people interested in magic! Who knew?

Then came two of the new students Ernest had worried about: Peter and Faye Nessing. Faye quickly chose a desk off to the side. She placed her backpack underneath, pulled out a book, opened to a bookmark and started reading. Bridget frowned. An animal anatomy textbook? What high school freshman needed to know that?

“Peter, good to see you,” Mr. Jerson said. “Where’s your brother?”

The tall senior slicked back his hair - still wet from swim practice - and shrugged. “I’m sure he’s coming, sir. We can probably start introductions without him?”

Mr. Jerson nodded his approval.

Peter stood at the front of the class.

“Hi, everyone. Thank you for coming. My name is Peter Nessing, and I’m the Vice President of the Magic Club.” He fidgeted with a charm on a leather necklace. “Let’s see. I’m a senior. My siblings and I just started school here last week. Fun fact about me is that I’ve been accepted to Wespire University on a swimming scholarship - I’m on the swim team here too - and I’m going to study Business. How about we-”

The classroom’s phone pealed, loud and irritating, until Mr. Jerson answered it.

“Yes?”

He listened for a moment, his hand gripping the receiver harder and harder as the person on the other side spoke to him.

“I’ll be right there,” he said. He stood and addressed the club. “There’s a little...problem in the healer’s office. They need some help brewing a proper potion.”

Mr. Jerson hesitated, trying to decide if he should tell the students to leave.

“I can handle it, sir,” Peter said. “We’ll just do introductions and take down some suggestions for club activities.”

Mr. Jerson nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

As soon as he left, there was murmuring about what could be going wrong in the healer’s office.

“Jodie Migaran threw up in fifth period,” someone whispered. “I wonder if it could have anything to do with that?”

“What? Nick did too. He seriously looked green!”

“Ok, everyone.” Peter held up his hands. “There’s no reason to speculate. As I was saying-”

Suddenly Charlie, the middle Nessing sibling, burst into the room.

“I need help!” he shouted.

“What?” Peter frowned. He looked over his brother as he came to the front of the class, searching for injury. “What’s wrong?”

Charlie pulled his backpack off his shoulder. He unzipped it and turned it over, dumping notebooks, pencils, and a strange golden box onto the demonstration table in the front of the classroom.

The box was tied with twine that glimmered with an enchantment. It was clearly the only thing keeping the box closed, as the flip lid struggled to open, rattling ominously.

“What is it?” someone asked.

“I don’t know!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and panicked. He gestured to the box wildly. “It was just...in my suitcase! I was unpacking and it just started shaking!”

“What’s the string?” Darryl asked.

“Just some store-bought trap twine.” Charlie pushed his thick rimmed glasses up his nose. “It’s all I had. The enchantment’s not going to hold very long.”

The box jumped into the air, the lid struggling against the twine.

“What’s in there?” Peter got closer to the box, staring at it.

“I have no idea!”

“Have you tried a Sparkness circle?” Vivien asked. “It’s a good generic containment spell.”

“Of course I tried that already.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “My parents invented it.”

“Your parents what?” Gertie repeated.

“They work at Sparkslab,” Peter supplied. “Well, they did until recently. Our dad quit to run for Mayor. They’ve invented tons of stuff.”

A student reached to peek into the box, curious about what was inside. The box opened as far as it could given the twine, and orange goop sprayed all over the place, covering the student and those behind him.

“Uck! What is this?” the student sniffed at his shirt and made a face.

“I know, it’s gross!” Charlie wrinkled his nose. “I was able to get it off with some nail polish remover I borrowed from one of my floor-mates.”

Those hit with the sludge left, struggling to wipe off the stickiness with towels from the potions lab, smelling like overripe fruit.

“You know…” Marissa stood, grabbing her backpack. “This isn’t what I signed up for. Not when Mr. Jerson didn’t even mention anything about extra credit. I have homework to do. Good luck with the box.”

She hurried out of the classroom, following the other students.

Vivien traced over one of the symbols etched into the gold side of the box. “Wait, I know this!” she said. She pulled her laptop from her bag and started searching. “It’s a newer magical dialect. I researched it when looking into homunculi.”

“Homunculi?” Charlie repeated.

Vivien nodded, oblivious to his approval.

Gertie looked over her shoulder, kneeling next to her desk. “We can translate it. Maybe it’s a spell that will help?”

Charlie nodded. “Please, anything.”

The box rattled in place, as if it was worried it was being forgotten.

“I wonder what’s even in there,” Bridget mused. “If it could cause us danger, I would think I’d see a vision of it.”

“Did you say ‘vision’?” Peter asked.

Bridget flushed, annoyed she had let it slip. The other students, debating what to do with the box, didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah. I sometimes get visions,” she said.

“That’s amazing!” Peter said.

To his surprise, Bridget shrugged and pulled out her phone, seemingly disinterested in coming up with a way to make the box safe.

“If there’s something alive in there, maybe I can calm it down,” Ernest said. He started to whistle a tune, and the box started rattling harder.

It wasn’t the only thing. Faye’s backpack starting jumping into the air.

“What’s that?” Darryl asked. “A magic backpack?”

The flap fell open revealing a rabbit with his ears pointed toward Ernest. It stumbled forward, its back leg in a cast.

“No!” Faye said. Her voice sounded odd, like it was laced with magic. Bridget watched with her enchanted eye as one of her bracelets sparked. She had recognized one of the girl’s necklaces as having a charm to talk to dogs. Could she also talk to bunnies?

“You get back here!” Faye ordered the rabbit, as it hopped to Ernest. It stopped and turned back toward her ruefully, but it didn’t budge.

“Faye,” Peter said, a warning in his voice. “I thought you weren’t supposed to bring him to class anymore.”

“I’m almost finished healing him,” Faye grumbled.

Ernest stopped his whistling, and the rabbit turned back to glare up at him, wanting him to finish.

“Then I’ll put him back in the forest.” She picked up the rabbit and put him on her desk. “Stay here.”

It pouted, but laid down on its front paws, its ears and nose twitching in annoyance.

The box continued to clatter ominously.

Ernest frowned, and started whistling a different tune. There was a click as the box’s two clips flipped down. The box shook, but the lid wasn’t cracking open anymore.

“Nice job!” Charlie said. “You’re the Yilnog right? I saw you in the yearbook.”

“Yeah.” Ernest shrugged. He didn’t get along with the rest of his family, despite its fame as one of the oldest magical clans. It rivaled even Gertie and Bridget’s, the Mallons.

“It’s good to meet you!” Charlie smiled. “Music magic is a wonderful specialty. Good choice! You know your stuff.”

Ernest didn’t know if he’d ever heard someone compliment his skills like that before. He smiled hesitantly and nodded at Charlie.

At the first success with the box, the other students seemed to relax. They started chatting amongst each other, trading their histories with magic and their skills.

“Done!” Gertie announced, holding up the notebook that she and Vivien had been translating the box spells into. A couple club members glanced over it, admiring their work.

“Should we try it?” Vivien asked.

The box shook, daring her to.

Charlie nodded. “Maybe it’ll shut it up.”

Vivien gestured that Gertie should cast the spell.

Gertie waved her hands over the box, reading from the notebook, summoning the magical energy she had stored in her various keychain accessories.

At the last word, the clips flipped back up and the box lid opened, breaking the twine that had somewhat contained it.

“Uh oh,” Gertie said.

It released a puff of smoke, filling the room with the noxious smell of burnt sugar. Peter tackled the box, slamming the lid shut, but the damage was done.

The other students started coughing, all clamoring to escape the room.

Including Darryl. “Sorry guys,” he coughed, fleeing.

“I can fix this!” Gertie shouted, pulling her t-shirt over her nose and mouth to filter out the smoke.

She searched through the cabinets over Mr. Jerson’s desk until she found a glass cup. It had a symbol etched into the side for “clean,” in a magical language. It was used to clear a room of any airborne potions - and this was close enough.

She held her hand in front of the symbol and said, “Begin” in its magical language.

The smoke cleared from the room, swirling away and disappearing into the cup.

“I really should get myself one of these,” Gertie said, coughing up the last of the smoke.

“Where did you get this box?” Vivien asked, wiping away tears from the smell.

Charlie just shrugged, looking mystified. “It was just...there. In my luggage.”

“It’s a joke,” Bridget suddenly said, standing up. She held out her phone.

Magical A-Musings presents the Caper Carton! Confound your friends! Trick your enemies! It rattles, it shakes, it slimes and it smokes! While perfectly harmless, it is the most irritating riddle your victims will come across. Want to end the madness for them? Just press the hidden button in the back to reveal it was empty the whole time!

Bridget walked up to the box and scratched her nails against its back until she found the hidden compartment diagramed on the website. She flipped it open and pressed the bright red button.

The rattling stopped. Bridget opened the lid of the box, and nothing happened. Just as the advertisement said, it was empty.

“So who tricked you?” Bridget asked, looking up at Charlie.

“No one,” Charlie mumbled. “I just...I found it. But thanks.” He nodded. “Really, thank you. I wouldn’t have thought to look it up. It seemed like an artifact.”

The silence stretched on until Peter clapped his hands together. “Well, I think that wraps up our first club meeting,” he said. “I’ll send out an email and hope that anybody comes back.”

“Will you?” Charlie asked Bridget, Gertie, Vivien and Ernest.

Bridget was hesitant, but Ernest broke into a wide grin. “Yeah! This was fun!”

Gertie nodded along. “We’ll definitely be back.”

***

After everyone left, Charlie gathered up the box and the discarded twine.

“That’s the first time anyone’s figured out it was a cheap gag,” Charlie mumbled.

Peter nodded. “But, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” he said. “We found some talented classmates. I think we could have a lot of fun while we’re here. And two Mallons and a Yilnog? We hit the jackpot.”

“There’s something great about this pit of a school after all,” Charlie agreed. “If they can be persuaded to bend the rules.”

Faye picked up the rabbit, holding him in one hand and her textbook in the other. “You guys need to be more careful. The Potions teacher probably knows that someone magicked those bullies to be sick. He’ll be on the lookout for who.”

“They deserved it,” Charlie muttered. “Magicaless oafs.”

“If you get in trouble again and it gets back to dad, we’ll never hear the end of it,” Faye warned.

Peter scoffed. “We don’t make trouble, it finds us.”

Charlie smirked. “For now.”

#gertie and bridget #nessing siblings #clubs #school #writing #tales of mundane magic #tomm

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jrubalcaba · 7 years

Text

Precious Cargo Ch. 7 - The Valentine

Precious Cargo Chapter 7 - The Valentine

author: jrubalcaba

featuring: OFC Guinevere “Gwen” Adams x Bucky Barnes

word count: 1839 words

rating: PG

warnings: talk of anaphylaxis, hospitals, drunken kissing

A/N: Okie dokie. This is a major chapter. I don’t want to say much so I don’t give anything away. As always, @avenger-nerd-mom gets a huge thanks for beta-ing this for me!

“Time to wake up sleepy head,” a far too cheerful voice whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes and saw Bucky laying next to me in bed. He was smiling so wide it made my face hurt. He knows I’m not a morning person, and that if I’m woken up too early, I’m to be approached like an angry tiger. I rolled over and checked the time before turning back to him.

“Is there any particular reason why my slumber has been disturbed before 6 a.m.?” I growled at him, letting my irritation with him sink into my very bones. He sat up and bounced, literally BOUNCED, on the bed a few times before he explained his good mood.

“Well, it would appear to be both your birthday AND Valentine’s Day. The kids and I can’t wait to spoil you rotten today!” He was almost shaking with how excited he was. There was a small kink in his plan though.

“Uh, no. My birthday isn’t for another seven months. And I hate Valentine’s Day. I never have anyone to celebrate it with. Now, let me go back to sleep.” I grabbed his pillow and pulled it over my head and rolled onto my stomach. I felt the bed move and the pillow disappear before I felt him press against my back and his lips were at my ear.

“It’s your birthday, Elizabeth. We’re going to celebrate it today because the kids will be very upset if you don’t eat the birthday and valentine cake they made you,” Bucky insisted. I rolled over, which was hard to do when you have a super soldier smushing you into the bed, and looked up at him skeptically. “What if I told you that I bought alcohol for tonight after the kids go to sleep? Would that make it any better?”

Oh god. Alcohol, no brain-to-mouth filter, and a raging hard-on for Bucky? No thank you.

I shook my head at him and was about to tell him where to stick the booze when he spoke again. “You won’t lift a finger today. We’re going to wait on you hand and foot. Today is all about you. Please?”

The offer was very tempting, and it would kill me to disappoint the kids. I must have been taking too long to make a decision, because the next thing I knew, Bucky was giving me that look. Now I understand why he was such a ladies’ man back in the day. That face was killing me. “Puppy dog eyes? Are you kidding me right now? Ok fine. I expect to be pampered like its going out of style, Sebastian,” I teased, giving in. He jumped off the bed, punching the air.

“Oh babe. I promise you, you’re going to have the best day ever!”

Worst. Day. Ever. I collapsed onto the bed, letting my purse fall to the floor at my feet. I could hear Elliott talking to Bucky out in the hall. I turned and saw them enter the room and approach the bed. They looked so sad after the day’s events, but it wasn’t their fault it all went to hell today.

“Sorry you had to go to the hopsical, Miss Ellie. We didn’t mean to make you sick,” Elliott apologized. Zoey nodded along with him, holding her stuffed bunny out to me. “Zoey wants you to sleep with Bun-Bun so you can feel better.” I smiled at them, sitting up so I could talk to them better.

“It’s ok you guys. Thanks for letting me sleep with Bun-Bun, but I think he should sleep with you, Zoey. I’m going to lay down for a little bit. Its past your bedtime, so Bucky is going to put you in bed ok? Good night and I’ll see you in the morning.” Elliott and Zoey hugged me then left and headed to their rooms to get their pajamas on. Bucky kissed the top of my head before leaving to put the kids in bed. I flopped back down and shut my eyes, thinking about what a disaster this day has been.

The day started off decently. The kids brought me breakfast in bed, cooked by Bucky. Eggs, bacon, perfectly toasted toast with butter and jelly, and a glass of milk. I ate everything, which was surprising, because Bucky’s food isn’t normally all that edible. Then we all sat and watched movies all morning long. Lunch time came and it was pizza, followed by a Valentine’s cake. That’s when the day went bad. Elliott told Bucky to feed me the cake, but my eyes needed to be closed because the cake had a surprise in it, and I had to guess what it was. So, I obliged the kids their wish and closed my eyes and opened my mouth so Bucky could feed me. I couldn’t smell it, but there was something that I couldn’t place. He had fed me a few more bites before I finally got a taste of the surprise. My eyes had popped open so fast it startled Bucky. I had asked what was in the cake and he told me it was a cherry flavored cake with strawberry pieces mixed in. My jaw had dropped open in shock and my heart skipped a few beats.

Strawberry. The one thing that I’m allergic to. Everything seemed to zoom by from that point on. It had taken Bucky a few seconds to understand why I was starting to swell up, but when it hit him, he flew into action. He carried me to the car and strapped me in, then got the kids buckled in. The car ride to the hospital was tense, what with Bucky going from being calm for the kids to being irritated with me for not having my Epi-Pen to being contrite for yelling at me. He screeched to a stop outside the hospital entrance and all but teleported inside before returning with a nurse and wheelchair. The nurse helped me into the chair while he got the kids out. He stayed with them while I was admitted and assessed. We had a SHIELD physician there, so they were aware of our cover. They apparently kicked him out, so he took the little ones out for dinner. By the time the three of them returned, I was released and ready to go home.

Bucky must have walked back into the room, because I heard a clinking sound and something being placed on the side table and felt the bed dip as he laid down next to me. I looked over at him and sighed. “You feeling ok babe?” he inquired. He’s taken to calling me babe the past few weeks and I’ve grown so used to it that it makes me smile. I nodded at him, rolling onto my side so I could see him better. He reached out and brushed some hair behind my ear, his metal hand caressing my cheek in such a tender fashion I almost melted. “I’m glad you’re ok. I was so worried about you earlier.” Bucky looked so guilty and was blaming himself for everything.

“Bucky it’s ok. It was an accident, accidents happen. You can’t change that it happened, but what you can do, is get me a glass of whatever alcohol you bought, so I can try to salvage the night,” I suggested. He looked down at me and grinned, rolling over to grab the bottle and glasses off the table. “You brought me vodka and Pepsi? How on earth did I get so lucky?” I was astonished that he knew my go-to drink at the bar. We’ve never had a drink together, so I had a feeling that Wanda must have tipped him off. He filled our glasses then handed me mine and held his up.

“Happy Valentine’s day babe. Here’s to next year’s being a lot better,” Bucky toasted. I clinked my drink with his and downed it. “Whoa. Easy babe. Don’t wanna get sick do you?” he chastised me. After a day like today, I needed a good buzz, and I know my limits. Three of these and I’m good. I got up and made myself another before returning to the bed.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve got this,” I assured him. He looked at me skeptically but didn’t push the issue. I drained half of my drink before I asked him the question that I’ve been dying to ask him all night. “Bucky, why were you so upset at the hospital?” He choked on his drink, so I waited until he was ok before I continued. “The nurses told me that you were getting rude with them and that they had to throw you out. Is that true?” I asked him. He took a long drink from his glass before turning to me.

“I was upset because they wouldn’t let back to see you. I was worried sick about you and even though I was just your teammate to them, you mean a lot to me and -” Bucky stopped suddenly, his mouth agape.

It took a while for my brain to catch up with what he had said. I mean a lot to him? He polished off his drink and got up to make himself another. “Would you like a refill?” he offered, reaching for my glass. I emptied it before handing it to him and watched while he made us new drinks. He brought our drinks back and sat back down on the bed. I raised an eyebrow at him, letting him know that I was waiting for him to finish his answer. “I’ve had feelings for you since we met.” I drank for a little bit while I took in his confession. “You’re such an amazing person and you’ve always treated me like a normal person, and not a monster. I understand if you don’t feel the same way but I wanted you to kn-” Bucky couldn’t finish his sentence because I was too busy kissing him. To hear that he felt the same way that I did was the best feeling ever. I threw my arms around his neck while his arms went around me, pulling me onto his lap. I pulled back to look at him and to answer his silent question.

“I have feelings for you too.” I looked him in the eyes for a moment before he smiled and began kissing me again. Bucky rolled us over so I was on my back and he was hovering over me. His metal hand went up my shirt while I fisted my hands in his hair. I guess he was feeling over dressed because he sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt over his head, then reached down and grabbed the hem of mine and pulled it over my head. Everything was a blur after that because the next thing I knew, it was morning.

Chapter 8

TAG LIST:

@avenger-nerd-mom @brighterlights @buckyappreciationsociety @buckyywiththegoodhair @delicatecapnerd @disappointedwithchrisevans-post @donnaintx @etts21 @ghostssss @handshugging @imsecretlyromanburki @jhangelface0523@just-call-me-mrs-captain @kimistry27, @liz-pbnz @magellan-88 @marvel-trash07 @melodyhiddleston, @papi-chulo-bucky @sketchbookthingz @suz-123

#precious cargo #bucky x ofc #Bucky Barnes #jrubalcaba #gwen adams

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olivereliott · 5 years

Text

A Triumph sidecar built to deliver cold brew coffee

We love sidecars, but they’re usually sedate rather than sporty. And a classic café racer with a chair? That’s even more rare.

So we love the look of this most unusual combination from sunny Queensland in Australia. The ‘Cold Brew Cafe Racer’ comes from Tom Gilroy of Purpose Built Moto, and it’s built around a Triumph Scrambler.

The project started like many others: A couple of blokes meeting up for a beer at their local haunt. Tom’s favorite spot is the iconic Sandbar restaurant in Surfers Paradise, on the famed Gold Coast stretch of Queensland.

“I rolled up on my GS550 to see my mates Jake and Rich, who threw an idea my way,” Tom recalls. Jake’s family own the Sandbar, and the idea was to build a sidecar rig to deliver Vittoria Cold Brew Coffee to the coastal community.

A deal was done: Tom would build the rig as a creative collaboration with the coffee company and the restaurant. And all agreed that the bike had to perform with and without the sidecar.

“When it’s not delivering a morning boost to Gold Coast residents out walking their trophy dogs, it has to handle a fast-paced Sunday afternoon run over the mountains!” says Tom.

The donor was a 2009 Triumph Scrambler, with the air cooled 865cc parallel twin—and a 270-degree firing interval for that famous exhaust note. A Cozy sidecar would be attached, mimicking the style of the vintage Steib 350 and 500 series sidecars.

“I was glad to do something different with a Triumph,” says Tom. “They’re such a staple for custom builders—and with a sea of bolt-on parts available, it’s easy to blend into the crowd.”

Tom wanted a timeless look that never grows old: “A bit like a vintage Rolex.” While he set to work on the bike, he sent the sidecar body to a friend for a cleanup.

The brakes and suspension were top of the to-do list. Tom’s given the Scrambler hefty 54mm polished USD forks and twin disc brakes from a Triumph Tiger, and a custom triple clamp. He’s also lowered the forks 40mm and rebuilt them to suit the ride height with the sidecar attached.

The rear suspension was treated to a set of all new K-Tech Bullit shocks, a spring-less system that offers an incredible ride. (“I was a little apprehensive on this one but the product over-delivered and presents a really tidy finish.”)

New wheels were the next big ticket item: specially machined alloy soft lip rims, 17” x 3.5” at the front and 17” x 5.50” at the back, laced up to the existing hubs. The massive rear wheel was wrapped in Shinko Stealth 003 rubber and required sprocket offsets to fit.

Up top, Tom’s built a short, hooped tail with a flowing cowl and integrated lighting. And since the color scheme was to be white with metallic highlights, he decided to integrate a few touches of brass into the design. “But you have to be careful,” he acknowledges. “It’s easy to go overboard with such details.”

Look closely at the tank, and you’ll notice a subtle raised edge following the top line. “I’ve seen a lot of chopper builders using round or flat bar to add a 3D aspect to the tank design,” Tom explains. “I like the concept, so I’ve adapted it to this café racer design with 6mm solid brass rod, hand-shaped and welded to the tank and tail sections.”

TIG welding brass to mild steel wasn’t the easiest feat, but after a few runs and stuff-ups, Tom got the hang of it. And then he added other brass details like custom-turned EFI choke and idle controls, EFI caps and a billet brass fuel cap.

The final piece to finish off the silhouette was the front cowl, which is a 2017 Thruxton piece—modified to fit the front end, and housing custom PBM Speedhut gauges. Clip on bars are finished with new levers and PBM’s own minimalist button switches. The Tarrozzi rearsets are a very neat upgrade too, because Tom has repositioned the master directly above the right foot brake, eliminating the need for a clunky linkage.

Tom has been dabbling in building exhaust headers, so he was determined to craft one for the Triumph in-house. He’s used a single sided 2-1 design with the collector placed just before the muffler—so the headers could frame the triangular stator covers. “When you hear it fire up [in the video below] you’ll see why we all love it so much!” says Tom.

Marios at DNA Performance Filters made a one-off set of custom brass filters, laser etched with a PBM logo. “Paired with the color-matched EFI body, brass caps and polished bowl (albeit a fake one) they look incredible. Most importantly, when on the tuning bench at Dynomite Moto they opened this torquey Triumph motor nicely.”

Tom gave the Triumph to his friend Jake for a shakedown run, minus the chair, on the Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride. “While he was out testing the bike, I was in the shop tinkering away on the sidecar.”

Tom pushed the sidecar opening back 400mm to achieve a bullet shape, and braced and hinged the body. This allowed room for a custom-built cooler to serve the bottles of cold brew.

He also trimmed down the fender and installed new mounts, so the fender now moves with the wheel and hugs it tightly for a cleaner look. Extra lighting went in: a PBM 4.5“ LED headlight and a twin stack of prototype PBM Orbit Mini LED brake lights at the back.

New brass rods shaped onto the sidecar body match the highlights on the bike, and there’s new upholstery inside—coffee brown leather and stitching.

The final piece of the puzzle was the intricate sidecar alignment. “Having read through a few manuals on geometry and functionality, I figured I needed some advice from those who had done it before me,” Tom admits.

“The answer was to set up some straight edges and calculate three key running factors—the toe-in, lean-out and axle lead. It took me a few rounds of fine-tuning.”

Tom reckons that riding the Triumph without the sidecar is an equally pleasurable experience, thanks to the suspension mods, dyno tuning and bellowing 2-1 exhaust.

“Due to the quite weighty sidecar mounts, the bike alone isn’t the nimblest performer—but you can have the time of your life leaning into some nice mountain corners, with power on tap at a slight twist of the wrist.”

Sounds like the best of both worlds to us. We’ll drink to that.

Purpose Built Moto | Facebook | Instagram | Images by Nathan Duff | Video by Electric Bubble

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