The Blakes are both nerds, Lincoln is too pure, Monty has to deal with Octavia & Lincoln’s awkwardness, Raven goes to the infirmary a little too often, Clarke & Lexa are gross in every universes, and the Gryffindor’s 7th year class might be the worst that Hogwarts has ever seen.
Other students existing in this AU: Maya, Murphy, Emori. Edit: cute tiny second year Aden.
Okay, now the big one because I AM LIVING AND DYING RIGHT NOW for captainharrie‘s amazing Franmaya Fake Dating plot.
And how do you get Franziska going? By giving her either a goal to work towards or someone to compete with.
So Maya’s main plan for success around Operation: Get Pearl to Leave Me and Nick (But Mostly Me) The Hell Alone With The Lovey-Dovey Stuff revolves around some big formal lawyer-event thing that everyone will be at so this is PRIME REASON for fake date, but obviously there must be MINOR fake dates first before the big one because GOTTA MAKE THIS CONVINCING AM I RIGHT? (also fuck it, it’s like lawyer prom. What? You’re telling me that lawyers don’t have proms? WE’RE DOING FAKE DATING HERE, I WILL MAKE THIS AS FANFIC AS I WANT)
So Franzy is a bit bewildered by all this for a while as she’s going along with it because she doesn’t quite understand the purpose for this fake dating? But she has a certain fondness for the odd spirit medium girl, she’s less tedious than most people she knows, so fine she’ll do this. But then the ~event~ is coming up and Maya mentions she has no idea what she’ll wear, she doesn’t think medium’s robes are going to cut it this time and Franzy SEIZES on this and SUDDEN SHOPPING MONTAGE HAPPENS because if you are going to be seen on Fraziska von Karma’s arm you are going to look YOUR BEST POSSIBLE SELF. So there are LOTS of dressing room shenanigans where Maya’s mostly like “I don’t know, this could be cute?” and Franzy goes “Cute? Why you you wish to settle for merely cute? You want to be DEVASTATING. And that color is not doing anything for your eyes, TRY THIS INSTEAD.” And Franzy is QUEEN OF HAGGLING and demands the top notch customer service for Maya at each store and Maya is suddenly really enjoying all this attention.
So then THE EVENT happens. Franzy and Maya show up looking GORGEOUS, THE BOTH OF THEM, but Franziska’s gone back to being a bit off-course without a concrete goal to work towards again. (“Okay the small child Fey saw us together. Now what?” “Now just relax and let’s have fun!” “????”)
Until she sees THEM.
And who is it off to the side together, CLEARLY on a date, but her foolish little brother and even more foolish Phoenix Wright?
(they’re not on a date officially because they’re still being THEM at this point. Miles is off to the side because he kind of hates these big social gatherings but is required to be there. Phoenix made a beeline for Miles immediately upon entering and hasn’t left him alone since. Miles will tell him to bother someone else … you know … eventually … sometime … maybe …)
And this activates something inside Franziska because HOW DARE Miles Edgeworth be on a date HERE with all the lawyers in Japanifornia able to see, and PHOENIX WRIGHT no less, people already spend too much time talking about them and their ~weird court tension~ SHE WILL NOT BE UPSTAGED, I mean does Miles Edgeworth even know HOW TO DATE? SHE WILL WIN. SHE WILL SHOW EVERYONE HOW TO BE THE PERFECT DATE.
So for the rest of the night Maya does not need to get any of her own food or drinks, Franzy gets them all for her. She compliments Maya constantly in front of other people. Leads her around like some goddamn CHIVALRY going on here. And then music happens (BECAUSE SHUT UP, LAWYER PROM) and MAYA FEY, WE WILL CONQUER THE DANCE FLOOR, I HAVE MASTERED TEN DIFFERENT STYLES OF DANCE and everyone is in awe of the great Franziska von Karma and her ~mysterious lover~ and “Oh no” thinks Maya. “This is happening for real now. This is real. Shit. This wasn’t the plan.”
And Franziska goes up to Miles and says “And THAT is how you take someone on a date,” and Miles is like “… okay …” “I HAVE WON AGAIN, MILES EDGEWORTH.” “… I wasn’t aware we were competing …” “IT WAS TOO EASY, YOU NEED TO STEP UP YOUR GAME WITH PHOENIX WRIGHT” and then he chokes on his wine.
“Jesus, Sammy,” says Dean, “did that shrink in the wash?” It wouldn’t be the first time. Laundromats are always a slightly unstable quantity. Dean’s lost all kinds of beloved clothing over the years. (The Stanford T-shirt Sam mailed him during his first semester at college. A vintage Iron Maiden tour T-shirt he’d picked up for cents at a Goodwill in Philly. Shreds of pink satin, six months after Rhonda Hurley, pulled and pocketed surreptitious from a malfunctioning machine outside Cleveland.)
Sam looks down at his chest, at the logo straining tight across the taut-pulled fabric. “No-oo?” he says. Dean raises an eyebrow.
Two patches of pink blossom rosy over Sam’s cheekbones. “I went shopping,” he says, “the other weekend. In Kansas City. When I went to see that film.”
“Yeah,” says Dean, carefully neutral.
“Well,” says Sam. “The sales assistant. Uh. I did think it was a little tight but.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. The movement tugs the T-shirt even tighter, emphasising the curved lines of Sam’s pecs, the rounded swell of his bicep. “Threw it in half-price,” he mumbles. “Said it would be a shame.”
Dean’s amused, mostly. Sammy’s taste in clothes is… idiosyncratic. He can’t imagine his brother in the kind of boutique that might sell him something like this. He tries to picture her, the salesgirl, heart-eyed over this big scruffy scarecrow. She was probably tiny, tiny and glamorous and young.
“Lady-killer,” he says.
Sam turns pinker, looks up to meet Dean’s eye. Aw, Sammy, Dean wants to say. He doesn’t quite understand how Sam can still be so clueless around women, so surprised every time he gets hit on. And it doesn’t sound like this chick was trying too hard to be subtle. Half-price.
Then, “Who says it was a lady?” Sam says, and Dean’s world tilts a little bit sideways. The tiny blonde saleswoman in his head dissolves, resolving into a hard-bodied, chisel-chinned dude, a guy looking Sam up and down as he twists in the mirror. This isn’t. Dean doesn’t.
He blinks at his brother, open-mouthed, but Sam’s already shrugging, looking away. “Yeah, I don’t know. You’re right, it’s… I’ll go take it off.”
“Hey, no,” Dean says without thinking, his own cheeks heated now, tingling-flush with an indefinable anxiety. “Leave it, Sam. It looks good.”
Sam wrinkles his nose.
“Really,” Dean says. His eyes skitter again over Sam’s chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the veins that twist down his arms. “You look good,” he says.
I saw your post about you needing fluffy headcanons and I am here to help. When Miles is super sleepy he gets all gross and cuddly and he will deny it to the grave even when given proof.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE
DO YOU??? KNOW??? WHAT YOU’VE DONE????
You can’t just mention “Miles Edgeworth” and “cuddly” to me in the same sentence I am not strong I am weak and terrible
I just can’t
Phoenix and Miles staying up super late working on a case (IDK?? EUROPE?? SEVEN YEAR GAP?? LIKE WHO EVEN LITERALLY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT FITTING THE CANON TIMELINE RIGHT NOW, SLEEPY CUDDLY MILES) like on the couch or something and like Phoenix tries to be good about ~giving Miles his space~ because you know, HIM (I say as if I don’t also have personal space issues for people who aren’t friends but YOU KNOW)
But they’ve been kind of moving closer together on the couch and Miles doesn’t seem bothered and they’re not actually touching really so it’s fine.
And Phoenix notices Miles suddenly loosing steam (and given how Miles works I think he probably goes on for too long and will BURN OUT SUDDENLY when his will gives in so he’ll go from like 0 to mega-tired seemingly instantly), and he’s starting to feel sleepy himself so he says “I think it’s time we wrap things up” and he suspects NOTHING so Phoenix kind of stretches him arms over his head and yawns really deeply
and when he opens his eyes, Miles is all but asleep. ON HIM.
In that opening Miles somehow managed to get right all up on Phoenix, arms around his waist and his head on his chest and nuzzling he’s fucking nuzzling his head into Phoenix’s chest
And Phoenix is wide awake again and he can’t even enjoy it at first because for the first fifteen minutes so he is SO CONFUSED like HOW IS THIS HAPPENING. MILES EDGEWORTH IS FUCKING NUZZLING INTO HIS CHEST. IS THIS A TRICK? A TRAP? IS HE GETTING PUNKED RIGHT NOW? It’s only after fifteen minutes of panic that he realizes Miles lacks what he would call a “sense of humor” so NOPE, THIS IS TOTALLY LEGIT.
A part of him seriously considered grabbing his phone for PHOTO EVIDENCE because Phoenix of course isn’t above that, but it’s too far away and HE CAN’T!! HE CAN’T MOVE!! HE CANNOT POSSIBLY WAKE MILES AND ALLOW THIS TO STOP!!
So he throws one arm around Miles and doesn’t give a shit about how this is a bad position he’s going to sleep like this and feels wonderful.
And of course Phoenix wakes up second because it’s him, so he’s sprawled out on the couch ALONE and Miles walks in already showered and dressed and goes “Wright please tell me you weren’t planning on wasting the entire day” and Phoenix is a bit bewildered (did he dream it? NO HE DID NOT) and gets up and says “It was nice last night.” “What was?” “You know the cuddling.” “I have no idea what you are talking about.” “Come on, it was cute! Look, I have a stain on my shirt from when you drooled on me!” “Nothing I ever do is ‘cute’ and that’s probably your own drool, you’re a slob.”
HE’LL NEVER GET HIM TO ADMIT IT, but Phoenix gets over that need because HE HAS LEARNED SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT ABOUT TIRED EDGEWORTH ON THIS DAY.
During the day, they are Marinette and Adrien, classmates and maybe even friends — maybe even more, when they don’t care to hide the teasing banter, the affectionate looks. Daytime means stolen glances, fingertips barely touching, and smiles with secrets only the other understands.
As Ladybug and Chat Noir, their evenings hold a sense of freedom they’re deprived of during the day. There are no classmates to hide from on the rooftops of Paris, no nosy best friends to avoid.
He is free. She sees it in his lively expressions and his restless energy — a result of repressing it every day behind a mask he can’t remove; she sees it in how openly he loves her, the fear of getting caught insignificant because, well, everyone already knows how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug.
She doesn’t have the same freedom. Not as Ladybug, not while there are akumas to be fought and people to be saved. Not when her love can be used against her.
No, her freedom comes at night, in the form of a black cat slinking through the hatch in her ceiling. Her freedom is the sharing of covers as they lie beside each other, conversations whispered in the dark, and smiles pressed against pillows — things that started the first night he ever came to her, to Marinette, as Chat Noir.
(“Why are you in my bed?”
“Why are you not?”)
Now, when she curls up against him, ear pressed against his heartbeat, she’s not quite Marinette but not quite Ladybug either. Just as he isn’t completely Chat Noir or Adrien. Because at night, when it’s only the two of them lying awake in her bed, all that matters is the whispered I love you’s before they, too, fall asleep with the city.
TUMBLR NEEDS MORE JURI/WAKABA, AND I HAVE TAKEN THIS DUTY ONTO MYSELF.
Imagine a post-series Ohtori.
Imagine Wakaba wandering around, in search of something, something that’s missing but she can’t put her finger on what it is. She goes to the kendo practice, recalling that she used to enjoy it, but it no longer moves her. So she finds the fencing team practicing, she always thought that Miki Kaoru was pretty impressive after all. But now she’s drawn to Juri Arisugawa. Her form, her speed, her bearing, how she carries herself is almost … princely. Wakaba thought she didn’t believe in princes anymore, but there is something captivating about this assured upperclassman.
Imagine Juri opening her locker and she finds something there she hasn’t seen in a long time: a love letter. Juri hasn’t found love letters to be special for a long time. She received dozens in middle school and she never cared to respond. But it’s been so long since she’s gotten any, people find her so scary and remote now, that she’s almost … impressed with whoever sent it. She decides to open it and the script looks … feminine? Writing of her grace on the fencing strip, and imagining she must be just as graceful on the dance floor … what girl could have sent this?
Imagine Shiori noticing the brown-haired girl with the little ponytail that now comes to every fencing practice. Fangirls aren’t anything new, but usually they get bored after a while and drift over to other clubs. But this one is different. Not only has she stayed, but she cheers so loudly throughout that she’s almost the official fencing team cheerleader. Shiori leaves after one practice and the brown-haired girl approaches her, introduces herself as Wakaba Shinohara. Shiori is instantly charmed by this cheerful underclassman that they talk for a while before Wakaba remembers what she came here for: “You’re good friends with Arisugawa-senpai, right?” Shiori is a bit uncertain how to answer at first, her and Juri are still working on … how things are now, but at this beaming young face she says, “Juri and I have known each other for a while, so I guess we are close.” Wakaba beams brighter and says that Shiori-senpai must know what Juri’s favorite foods are.
Imagine Juri eating alone in the cafeteria (Miki is giving piano lessons today), which has suited her just fine for a while. Then she notices something brown out of the corner of her eye: that girl who’s always at fencing practice. And she’s holding a lunchbox. “I’m sorry, Arisugawa-senpai, I hoped to find you before you ordered food, but I’d be so honored if you ate this!” She bows and holds the lunchbox out. Juri is speechless, taking the box, and before she thinks to ask the girl’s name, she’s gone. Juri opens the lunchbox and finds an adorable arrangement of some of her favorite foods. Could this be … the love letter’s author?
Imagine Juri looking at the fencing club’s cheerleader as the underclassmen have a bout. Shiori comes up and says “She just started the first year of high school you know, perhaps it’s not too late to recruit her to the team proper.” Juri frowns. “Do you know this girl?” Shiori smiles. “Wakaba Shinohara. We’ve talked a few times. She’s a very sweet girl. But I think she’d be even happier talking to you, what with that lunchbox and the letter and all.” Juri detects not a hint of jealousy. Is Shiori … giving her blessing?
Imagine Wakaba finally getting the nerve to ask Juri how she liked the lunch. Juri says she’s impressed with her great cooking, but Wakaba says it’s nothing special, anyone could do that really. Juri doesn’t agree, but keeps it to herself. She asks Wakaba why she’s always at the fencing club. “It’s just nice to watch people who are so talented. Especially people … like you Arisugawa-senpai.” Wakaba blushes. Juri isn’t sure why, but she decides to ask if Wakaba has ever been bowling.
Imagine Wakaba going to Juri’s room. They’ve been out bowling a few times, and Wakaba still can’t get the hang of it, but it’s been so fun. But she hasn’t seen Juri around the campus for a few days. Juri told her where she lives, but she hasn’t exactly given her permission to stop by unannounced. Perhaps she’ll be angry with her, but Wakaba is worried. She knocks on the door and waits a long time. Finally, Juri in a robe with her hair down answers the door. Wakaba is surprised, but somehow Juri looks as beautiful and as princely as ever, even like this. Except for that Juri won’t look her straight in the eyes. Wakaba asks if everything’s okay. Again, the usually bright and bubbly girl shows a determined patience as she waits a long time for Juri’s answer. “Sometimes … sometimes I’m just not okay. I don’t know why. Sometimes I just don’t want other people to see me … when I don’t like myself.” Juri closes her eyes. Why did she say that? She’s never said so much to even Miki about her … moods. Wakaba admires a strong and beautiful prince, not the pathetic creature before her now. Surely she’ll leave. But something stirs in Wakaba. Something from a dream perhaps … surely not a memory. Wakaba rises on her tiptoes, takes Juri’s shoulders, and softly kisses her on the forehead. Juri opens her eyes and looks down at the shining younger girl. “That’s okay.” She smiles. “I like you. If you want to be alone that’s okay. But when you don’t like yourself, know that I like you.”
Imagine a year later. It’s been a year, right? It must be. Juri only became so close with Wakaba in her third year of high school. So it must have been a year, no matter how long it’s actually felt. It just makes sense.
After the graduation ceremony, Juri meets Wakaba at the rose-laid archway that delineates where Ohtori ends and the rest of the world begins. Wakaba is holding a bouquet of orange roses. And there’s something a bit different about her today. “You’re wearing your hair down now.” That shining smile again. “Well … I want to try growing it out a bit more. I haven’t in a long time. I never thought I was pretty enough to do that.” Juri smiles now. “You know how I disagree with that assertion.” Wakaba just laughs and looks away. “Anyway, I wish I could come up with a better graduation present. The flowers won’t last. I should’ve tried to find something more permanent.” Juri takes the bouquet. “But they are so beautiful, Wakaba. You can give me a new bouquet the next time we meet after you’ve graduated.” Wakaba is startled, they have never spoken of “after graduation” before. Wakaba had assumed that what they shared would be beautiful but brief, like these roses, not surviving outside of the comforting garden of school. “Are you sure, Juri? You have so much ahead of you Juri. You can go anywhere in the world, where ever you want. I’m just … me.” Juri shakes her head. She knows Wakaba has more time here. Until she makes peace with this, Wakaba must stay, she understands. But someday … Juri bends down and kisses her forehead and says, “You know what they say. Believe in miracles …”
I LOVE THIS FIC. Just read it because there’s something in it that I can’t reference without ruining its effect and it’s honestly so fun to read that way. Just know Steve is getting married and Sam and Bucky are in a fight for being the best man.
Uh, I’ve promo’d this fic enough times that it’s probably annoying but I love it because Sam gets kidnapped and Bucky raises hell and I can’t wait to finish the accompany piece where you get to see just how much hell Bucky raises.
Ah yes… a classic. I adore the way this fic is written and the turns it takes and the fucking zine that’s in it that makes everything so much more personal. Like - if you’re looking for something real that tackles both Sam and Bucky’s demons (in human format) then this will be a wonderful read for you.
Confession time, this has been on my to read list for a while but because I am 1. busy and 2. my focus is nonexistent, I have yet to find the time to read it. BUT, I was around for the latter half of its creation and it’s action-packed, tense, and there’s a couple questions that keep you on the edge of your seat. SO! read it! Don’t be like me lmao.
Okay so… this is another wedding fic affectionately referred to as “Automatic Touch of Food.” This is also a big jump in word count from the previous ones lmao. No in between. Anyway, if you like break up/get back together visceral emotion shit then read away. This is actually the last part of a series, but you could read it as a stand alone. (But why would you when there’s a bunch of cool fic before it too).
HEY WOW, so uh, this is another one where I’m just gonna tell you to read it. Its technically OT3 and SamSteve in the beginning, but it transitions into a SamSteve/SamBucky amalgam and watching all that grow while hearing the complaints and worries and fears of all sides is just a wonderful touch so, hell yeah read it.
where Sam has been researching beacon hills and tells Dean “I think we need to make a trip to California, this place has been crawling with ritualistic murders and there’s been a string of strange animal attacks. i’m thinking we’re dealing with a pack, here."
and they track this tall, brooding looking werewolf to a loft downtown, and shove knives in every pocket, have a whole arsenal of wolfsbane and silver shotguns and bullets and they burst into the loft, expecting a big, muscly pack of angry wolves
but it’s just Teen Wolf Scott Mccall and a bunch of other fuckin teenangers sitting on the floor in front of a tv watching The Incredibles and eating popcorn
Ahhh I really love Prize though!!! I’d so want to buy a copy of your collab zine!!!
Okay! I’ve made up my mind. x3 I was deliberating about whether to include Prize in any of the fic compilations, because I was really pleased with that one and it does have a good amount of story and character to it, but was worrying it was ‘too kinky’. Well, if 50 Shades became such a massive thing with it’s so-called ‘kink’ and people ate that up, I can damn well put one of my best fics into my collection if I want! Sure it’s kinda kinky, but it’s handled a damn lot better and written better, so fuck it. People can deal.
(And I mean. I was planning to included at least some kind of content warnings on them, so. Don’t like don’t read? Also as per the regulations for the artist’s alley, we gotta check IDs for people even just wanting to look at the adult stuff anyway. Pretty easy just to add a ‘lol yeah that one’s got some kinky stuff in too’ to the conversation, and if people are concerned about it they can ask.)
Because I feel like this is a super important point to make:
Erin Gilbert is a romantic at heart. Whether she comes by that naturally or it’s partly in response to the trauma she went through as a kid – whatever the reasons, when it comes to love and relationships, she is a romantic. She entirely buys into the hearts and flowers and holding doors open kind of romance Hollywood and heterosexual society tries to sell you. She believes it, she wants it, that’s the daydream that’s always been in her head.
Because of this, (and because she’s the most clueless bisexual to exist since, well, me) she didn’t recognize Abby’s feelings for her nor did she recognize her own feelings for Abby back when they were in school together. Abby isn’t a naturally gushy person. She’s never going to be the type to get you cutesy but otherwise nonfunctional presents like candy and flowers and stuffed animals to demonstrate her affection. She’s never going to wax on about how much she loves you or all the reasons she loves you. Instead, she’s going to simply hang out with you all the time; joke with you, laugh with you; plan things with you; get you the things that you need; support you; fight beside you when things get rough. She is all of the friendship foundation necessary to build a long-term romance on, but that’s not what Erin’s been trained to look for so she missed it the first time around. She learns to recognize it after they’re reunited, after they form the Ghostbusters and save the city. She’ll work out just what their feelings are for each other (and have always been for each other), and they’ll start dating, and Erin will take away the message that she’d been looking for the wrong thing all this time.
eeehhhhhhhh… that message is not entirely accurate, though.
Yes, her relationship with Abby is everything she never knew she wanted, but most definitely did. Abby is everything she never knew she wanted but most definitely did. But it doesn’t mean the romance and hearts and flowers she daydreamed about was ever wrong or impossible or something she should have never dreamed about.
Patty Tolan is what every fictional romantic love interest tries so hard to be. Patty is smart, she’s funny (both snarky funny and funny funny), she’s incredibly sweet and well mannered. Like, you need someone you can take home to your parents? This is the person for you. (Not that you can’t take Abby home to meet your parents, because you totally can. I’m just saying Patty can charm the pants off even the toughest critic. And likely has.)
Patty is fun, she likes to go out to places, she dances!!! Okay. Like we’re approaching Disney prince level of shit here (if Disney princes were prone to impromptu dance parties in their living rooms, which lbr they totally should be). Patty is perfect, and she is the type of person to get you small romantic presents for Valentine’s Day or anniversaries or just because she was thinking of you or because you have a really big meeting at work coming up and she knew you’ve been nervous about it. She is everything the most romantic of hearts could possibly ever dream up.
(and on a completely shallow note, Patty is also both tall and gorgeous, like. do you get what I’m saying yet???)
The best part is Patty is real. She’s not fictional or a daydream; she’s real and present and around Erin every single day now.
There is literally not a single possibility that Erin’s not going to notice all of this or not fall head over heels in love with Patty. Literally zero percent chance of that not happening. Where Holtz is entranced and very consciously fascinated by all things Patty, Erin is almost subconsciously pulled into Patty’s orbit. She just kind of drifts towards Patty because Patty is very normal (which Erin craves), she’s openly affectionate (which Erin thrives on), and then, they turn out to have a lot of things in common (similar taste in music and books and similar desire to not risk blowing themselves up everytime they blow their nose in the lab). So Erin starts actively choosing to hang out with Patty more and then they’re making plans to go shopping or to visit museums or to try one of those wine and painting things (i can’t even think of the proper name for those now, sorry) and pretty soon they’re just straight up dating.
(Because if Abby and Holtz can still date each other while they’re each dating someone else, then surely Patty and Erin can also date each other.) (which they can, everyone’s cool with it)
And so that’s how Erin ends up with two amazing girlfriends and a wonderful OT4 family unit.
This is a prequel to the great fic If You Asked Me If I Love Him (I’d Lie), and it’s such a good read. I loved it, and if you like the friends to lovers trope, chances are you’re going to love it too! There are so many sweet moments!
AU where Brian found out about what would happen a few day after auditions, so instead of leaving Tim against his will, he decided he had to leave to keep people safe, even if he doesn’t want to (the first few paragraphs are more like an outline but it eventually turns into a fic-ish thing)
Brian goes over to Tim’s house the last day before he leaves, and asks Tim if he could share a bed with him. Tim is really awkward at first, but hey, it’s Brian. The person he trusts the most. He agrees, and eventually they end up cuddling.
All is good and calm and Brian is actually ecstatic, but at the same time he wants to cry because this is it, he’ll never see him again.
By exactly 1 AM, Brian is awake, and he’s gathering the clothes and other items he’s been hiding away in discreet areas of Tim’s house for the past week and a half. He’s already fully clothed and ready to go, taking one shaky breath after the other, but just as he walks by Tim’s room, he has to stop. He starts feeling that familiar pang of guilt that sends tears to his eyes, and then he hears it.
Brian’s head snaps over to see Tim sitting up in his bed, eyes slightly wider than usual and his overall expression one of confusion.
“Brian…what are you doing..?”
He opens his mouth but no words come out- his mouth is dry, so dry, but he can’t speak. he can’t lie to Tim…
He trails off.
“I got called in to work the night shift.”
Tim seems to consider the reason, and though his eyes now show disappointment and the everlasting worry that he did something wrong, he nods slowly.
His eyebrows furrow, and he frowns, looking away as he settles back down into the bed in disappointment.
Brian is put in a rough place now- he can’t stand seeing Tim upset, but he has to do this to keep him safe…With a small sigh, Brian walks over to his side and brushes his lips against his cheek, tilting his chin up with his finger. His lips curl up into a watery, unconvincing smile that somehow reassures Tim.
“I’ll call you when I’m finished. I’ll be back, don’t worry..”
It’s 2014. Your name is Brian Thomas, and you made a promise. One you intend to keep.
“I told you I’d be back…”
For a moment, just a moment, you feel Tim’s arms wrapped around you again, and everything is fine.