probably some guys too

4

#look I’m not sayin what you think I’m sayin abt Fitz #but also I am 

bonus:

Omg guys so Baz grew up in his scary big mansion far away from roads right? So he probably never got trick or treaters because the kids were too afraid (and probably too lazy) to go all the way to the front door.

Which means Baz has absolutely no experience with trick or treaters.

So just image Simon and Baz living together and it’s Halloween, and suddenly there’s a knock on the door. Baz opens the door, and there are 3 kids, dressed so well that Baz thinks there are actually a real ghost, vampire and witch in front of his house.

Just imagine his reaction omfg.

“SNOW THERE ARE MONSTERS AT OUR DOOR AND I SEE MORE OF THEM WALKING THE STREETS GRAB YOUR SWORD THE APOCALYPSE HAS BEGUN”

Drabble Part 2/5

A/N: It’s so strange… I’ll be writing something super sad one second, then something super fluffy the next. Drabbles are weird. XD

Words: 3440


11. (Arno Dorian)

It was a grueling truth, the reality that you may very well die. You looked down at your crimson stained hands, the heat of the thick liquid contrasting with your rapidly cooling body. Death was holding you in its crushing grip, dragging you down, and somehow you were still holding on. Because of him, you realized. You were holding on for Arno.

“Just a little while longer.” He rasped, his feet heavy against the stone rooftop as he shifted you uncomfortably in his arms. Every movement had you crying out, jolting the fiery pain to life. If it wasn’t for the startling fear in Arno’s eyes, you were positive you would’ve already been amongst the dead. But you couldn’t leave him. Your head lolled against his chest, eyelids heavy as you began drifting off. “No,” Arno’s shout startled you back into semi-consciousness. “I’m not losing you today, you hear me?” A hum left your parted lips as you held onto him tightly. Just a little bit longer… “Please,” he begged, the wind whipping against your face as he sprinted even faster, pushing himself to the max. “Don’t leave me like this.”

“Arno,” you choked, your vision swimming. You just needed to hold on… Just… His worried voice was drowned out by the blood rushing around your mind, your heart slowing in your chest. Maybe if you just closed your eyes…


12. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)

“Wait,” he growled, pulling you back as you jumped. You fell into his hard body, both of you hitting the ground painfully.

“What?” You seethed as quietly as you could, your eyes flickering between him and your target as you stood back on your feet, dusting yourself off.

“You can not go yet.” He explained as if it made total sense to pull you back from the man who was in perfect position for your blade.

“I need to go,” you argued, pointing down at your target. “If he moves, it will be too hard to find another place to strike. Now is the perfect opportunity.”

“Have you learned nothing?” He hissed, hand tight on your white robes. “What would you do after you had taken his life?”

“I would run there.” You pointed to the stacked boxes that stopped about halfway to the top of a nearby building. “Then I would wait in the hay cart on the other side of the building. After I can scale that building and move along the rooftops silently and efficiently.” You stated dryly, knowing that there was nothing for him to argue. Unfortunately, he was stubborn.

“And what if you get caught by them?” He gestured to two rather large guards waiting by the exit of the alley you were in. “You could not fight them off.” Ouch.

“Are you questioning my ability, Altaïr?” Your voice was laced with annoyance, his haughty tone doing nothing to quell your anger. You’d trained for the majority of your life and you were confident in your abilities.

“That is not what I meant.” He backtracked, hands held up in surrender. “I only mean that you could get injured or worse.”

“That’s part of being an Assassin.” You retorted, watching as his jaw tensed beneath the shadow of his hood.

“Just,” he paused, almost as if he didn’t think he should finish, “be careful.” Half of your mouth tilted up in a smile, a hand pulling your hood down to obscure your face.

“I always am.”


13. (Ezio Auditore)

You sighed heavily into the shining, noon sky. Rome was bustling below, the yells of merchants and buyers alike ringing throughout the heat of day. Pulling both knees to your chest, you watched as men and women prepared for the event to come. You really didn’t want to go to this ball, but your father hadn’t given you much of a choice. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere; where the sun had once shone, a shadow now cast over.

“Ezio,” you greeted stiffly, not bothering to look up at the Assassin.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked, taking a seat next to you. You sent a half smile in his direction, your hands playing with your white robes.

“I needed time to think.”

“For the ball,” Ezio nodded, his muscles tensing. “What happened to your date?” His voice was bitter, a scowl on his scarred lips. That gave you pause, your lips turning up in realization.

“You’re jealous!” You laughed, his scowl deepening at your accusation.

“I am not.” He argued. Continuing to chuckle, you stood up with your hands on your hips.

“You, Ezio Auditore, are jeal-” Your sentence was cut off with a squeak as your back hit the stone tiles roughly, wide eyes looking up to Ezio.

“I am not jealous.” His eyes were like fire, burning every bit of your body they went over. He jerked you up, dropping his mouth against yours vigorously. You moaned against the heat of him, his tongue thrusting in between your lips at the movement. Everything suddenly felt too hot, his hands roaming all over your body with determined curiosity. When he finally felt satisfied, he stood up, leaving you lying on the ground and breathing heavily. You followed his movements a moment afterwards, watching him curiously. He hadn’t moved, instead observing you as his fingers slid along his lips, almost as if just realizing what he’d done. You wanted him, needed him to repeat his actions.

“Jealous,” you breathed, laughing as you took off across the rooftop. You didn’t even have to hear his steps heavy against the stone to know he was following.


14. (Shay Cormac)

The hand on your hip wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the one you wanted. The blue eyes shining beneath the lights, crinkled up as he laughed, were not the ones you wished to stare into. The crisp accent that sounded whenever he spoke wasn’t the one you needed to hear. But it didn’t matter. Shay wasn’t there, and even if he was, he would never think of you the same way you thought of him. He was too guarded, too untrusting to allow you that close to him. A soft groan left your parted lips as you tried to tune into the conversation once again. He was talking about trading stuff, at least you thought he was. He could also be talking about his family. You hadn’t the slightest, and honestly, you couldn’t care less. You were scanning the area, your eyes attempting to adjust to the overly bright lights. They really did try too hard at these things. That was when you spotted the dark gaze, looking to you with more intensity than you’d ever seen before. You wanted to call to Shay, but you were cut off before you could start by lips upon your own. It took you by surprise, prompting you to stand absolutely frozen for a whole minute. It wasn’t right, the person you wanted more than anything not being the one moving against your lips. By the time you actually realized what was happening, the man had been thrown off of you by your leather clad savior.

“Shay,” you breathed, watching him intently. He ignored the gasps of the crowds, picking you up with a stiff arm beneath your legs and one behind your back. His movements were swift and silent, that of a trained killer. Your eyes were on his jaw, clenched with tension. Despite how angry he seemed to be, his hands were still holding you as gently as possible. “Shay,” you ground out, trying to understand what he was doing. He slammed you against the side of the estate, keeping you trapped in between his arms while his knee came up to rub in between your legs.

“You’re mine.” He growled, hands working furiously on removing your clothing. You shivered, whether from the actual cold or Shay’s expression, you weren’t entirely sure.


15. (Shay Cormac)

The clatter of your sword hitting the stone reverberated throughout the night sky, weighing down on the two of you like you were carrying the world itself. Your eyes were heavy, reality finally dawning on you. No matter what he’s done, no matter how long he’s been away, you can’t hurt him. You dropped your head, your arms laying limply by your sides.

“I can’t,” you whispered, not daring to look up to him. “I won’t,” you stated louder than before. His leather boots groaned against the cobblestone as he walked towards you, the sound of metal on metal as he re sheathed his blades. A heavy, warm hand rested on your shoulder, prompting you to look into his dark gaze. His eyes were shining with pain, hurt etched across his expression.

“I never wanted to do this.” His voice was barely audible above the distant sounds of the city, the happy cheering only furthering the dampened mood. “I was forced to.” You lifted a hand, placing it ever so softly against his heated cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, a hand raking through his dark hair as he buried his head into your chest, wrapping you in a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” you repeated again, his hot tears rolling down your chest. You closed your eyes against the wave of emotion, holding him even closer.

“He wants you dead,” he muttered against your skin, his tears still wet against your clothing.

“I know.” And you did. Haytham Kenway had every reason to want you dead. You were an Assassin who had gotten in his way more than enough times to pose a threat. Although, you looked down at the top of Shay’s head, moonlight reflecting off the black tresses, you would never pose a threat to him. You never could; Templar or not, you loved the man.

“I love you,” he said lowly, almost as if reading your thoughts.

“And I love you.” Slowly, he pulled back from your embrace, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

“Go,” he whispered, “Please.” His voice was broken, face twisted in pain. “I can’t…” He trailed off, looking to the ground shamefully. “Please don’t make me hurt you.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “But, Shay, I don’t wish to leave you.”

“I’ll find you again,” he stood a little straighter, determination lacing his tone. “I’ll find you when this is all over and I swear to you, I will make this right.” You nodded, backing away from him. “Just don’t forget me.” His voice was carried by the wind as you ran, your vision blurring with the onslaught of tears and your heart breaking within your chest.


16. (Edward Kenway)

Admittedly, you’d had way too many drinks. But hey, the suave captain sure as hell didn’t seem to be complaining. In fact, he almost seemed to be enjoying it. It’s not like you were doing anything that different than normal, you were just a little less reserved. Your touches lingered a little longer, your words purposely holding double meanings. You couldn’t help it, you were much too drunk and he was much too attractive. You took another swig of your rum, laughing at something one of the drunken crew members said.

“Hand me a little more rum, lass.” Edward whispered, his lips moving against your ear. You shivered, smiling at his wink as you picked up a tankard of rum. You placed a hand on his upper thigh, leaning across the table to hand him the drink. His eyes followed you, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he watched you hungrily.

“This what you want?” You asked, shifting more weight onto the hand on his thigh while simultaneously moving it higher. His throat bobbed as he swallowed roughly, his hand taking the drink from you and placing it on the table.

“Oh, you are just asking for it now.” His voice was husky, causing you to bite your lip while thoughts of him using that tone in other, more pleasurable, scenarios assaulted your mind. He leaned forward again, all the sounds and smells of the tavern drifting away as his breath danced around your cheek. He was speaking, telling you something, but you were too focused on the smell of salt, leather, and alcohol emanating from him. He pulled back, a smirk on his face and primal intent shining in his crystal orbs. Unfortunately, you didn’t hear a word he said. Deciding to take a chance, you squeezed his thigh and sent a wink, abandoning the table in favor of leaving the stuffy pub. You weren’t certain he followed you, at least not until you felt the gentle yet firm hand against the small of your back.


17. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)

Your scowl deepened at the look of disappointment in his eyes, your arms unconsciously crossing over your chest despite the ache of protest from your ribs.

“I was doing my job.” You stated curtly, moving your gaze from the Master Assassin. He was angry with you, even though he shouldn’t be. You’d only done what was asked of you; nothing more and nothing less.

“You almost got yourself killed,” he argued, a clamp sounding as he took a step forward. “You were meant to finish your target, not die.”

“I didn’t die.” You ground out, motioning wildly to yourself. You clenched your jaw at the pain that came with the action. “I’m still alive, see?”

“You were barely alive when you stumbled back here.” Both hands held tightly onto the sheets, your eyes diverting down. Maybe you had been a little reckless, but it wasn’t on purpose. You hadn’t meant to get yourself nearly killed. It was entirely an accident. “Did you ever think of how that would make me feel?” Your head snapped up, jaw dropped as he continued in the most irritated of tones. “Do you know what I’d do if you died? If I never saw you again?” He was getting more and more hysterical with each word, finally abandoning talking in favor of wrapping both arms around your upper half. “I thought I’d lost you.” You closed your eyes, softly raking a hand through his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere.”


18. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)

His eyes were on you like an eagle readying himself for the kill. You had no idea what you’d done to make Altaïr so angry, but it was almost scary. Although, the intensity that you were sure was meant to intimidate you, just aroused you further. He was an attractive man; anybody could see that. But it was more than just his looks that aroused you, it was the way he acted so confidently. Unfortunately, that confidence was giving you pause at the moment. He seemed so sure about something, so angry about whatever it was. So much so that it had you thinking back to every single wrong thing you’d ever done to the man. The list was quite short and none of them happened recently, but still, something was on his mind. You were snapped out of your reverie when a hand whipped out of nowhere, tugging you into a bedroom. Your back was slammed against rough stone, eyes wide as you looked to your hooded assaulter. Altaïr’s muscles were stiff, his frame trapping you against the wall.

“Altaïr,” you breathed, not sure if you should be relieved it was him or only more alert.

“(Y/N).” His voice was strange, the underlying tension bubbling to the surface.

“What are you doing?” You inquired, watching him as his gaze moved down your body slowly.

“I’m sick of watching silently as you tease me everyday.” He growled, eyes blazing.

“Wha-” He cut you off, lips rough against your own. You were frozen, lips parted and eyes still open. Taking the opportunity, he slipped his velvety tongue inside your mouth, hands tightening on your wrists. He tasted of mint and cinnamon and tentatively, you responded to his kiss causing him to drop your hands in favor of holding your face between his palms as he explored your lips with fervor. You were practically putty in his hands, following every one of his bold movements. He didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon, his body touching every bit of your own. And, you leaned into his touches, you couldn’t be more glad.


19. (Shay Cormac)

Your combined laughs echoed around the hall as you continued walking down the wooden walkway, Shay by your side. The two of you were reminiscing of past times, something you did quite often, as you made your way to your respective bedrooms. It was a rather nice inn, one that Haytham no doubt picked out. He could be a little… overly grand at times. Oh well, you looked to the Irishman with shining eyes, you’d endure anything Haytham could throw at you so long as you got to spend time with Shay. He smiled warmly back, watching you curiously as you moved to open your door.

“No, that’s the wrong- oh, dammit.” Your eyes were wide, Shay standing directly behind you. It was like everyone was frozen, Hickey looking quite mad as he looked over the woman on top of him to you guys. Your mouth was opening and closing, nothing coming out of it as you just simply shorted out.

“What the ‘ell.” Hickey yelled, glaring at you two.

“I, uh,” Shay tugged at your arm, slamming the door shut to close off the view. “Oh my God,” you laughed, a hand over your mouth as you doubled over. Shay’s chuckle was much deeper as he pulled you down to where your room actually was. “I did not expect that.” Shay was shaking his head, eyes shining with amusement.

“You shouldn’t expect anything less than that from Hickey, lass.” He laughed, warm hand on your shoulder.

“What about from you?” You questioned boldy, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Aye, you could expect more.” His voice was soft, his hand moving from your shoulder to your cheek gently.

“Then show me.” You challenged.


20. (Connor)

It was too hot, the sheets too uncomfortable against your skin, but you couldn’t move. Not because you were afraid of waking Connor up, but just because you genuinely couldn’t move. He had you wrapped in his two strong arms, one leg thrown over yours, and his head tucked into your neck. Not only that, but he slept like a bear.

“Connor,” you growled, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. He held on strong, his grip tightening the more you moved. “Dammit, Connor, wake up!” You yelled, flopping around in his arms like a fish out of water. You kept yelling his name, pushing as best you could from inside his embrace, but nothing seemed to be working. “Ratohnhaké:ton,” you screamed, kicking your legs around.

“What?” He questioned, one brown eye peeking open to observe you.

“Move. Over.” You replied, pushing him back.

“Keep still,” he argued, cuddling back into you.

“Connor,” you whined, continuing to move in his embrace. “It’s hot.” This time both eyes opened, his arms holding you even tighter.

“I wish to hold you.” He whispered, a red tint staining his cheeks. That took you by surprise.

“I’m still going to be right here.” You shrugged, watching him curiously. He looked oddly distressed at the thought of having to let you go.

“I know, I just…” he muttered, trailing off when he thought it necessary. You lifted a hot palm to his warm cheeks, a small smile on your lips.

“What’s wrong, Ratohnhaké:ton?” For a second, he didn’t look as if he was going to answer, his eyes flitting down to where your bodies were touching.

“Before I met you, I thought I’d have to be alone. And,” the intensity in his gaze when he looked up was startling, “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be without you.” Your heart clenched painfully, both arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

“I will never leave you.” You promised, resting your forehead against his. “So long as I walk this Earth, I will always love you, Ratohnhaké:ton.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, head moving up and down with his nod.

“May I please hold you?” He asked, voice light. It may be hot as hell, but you weren’t about to deny him that.

“Always,” you whispered, burying your head into his chest. You could feel his smile as he placed a kiss to the top of your head, the soft pitter-patter of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Before you drifted off, you heard him speak, tone barely audible.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

bl/ind and trans ppl

i figure that BLI is pretty tolerant when it comes to binary trans people. the issue comes up when someone doesn’t want to identify as either male or female. it has nothing to do with religion, of course, nor with ““biology””– chromosomes or genitals or whatever– it’s just that BLI believes that it’s too confusing for citizens to have more than two set genders floating around. bad for productivity. BLI already divides everything into a binary, all black-and-white, so gender has to be as well. 

gender EXPRESSION isn’t really policed or anything, if you’re dmab and you wanna wear a dress BLI doesn’t care. they only get involved once it’s a question of gender IDENTITY, of pronouns and legal names and markers on documents.

if you get cleared by your BLI physician, the company is more than happy to provide you with hormone therapy through their Gender Reassignment Program. it’s just another set of pills, after all. any surgeries are optional, but still covered if wanted. but to get access to any of these, you have to identify as either male or female, and you have to exhibit “strong enough” dysphoria (evaluated by an appointed professional). 

anyone trying to assert that they don’t want either of the two gender markers to be used is obviously misguided. that’s a problem. that’s inconvenient. they get assessed, and if they are found to exhibit dysphoria, then they are prescribed a mandatory transition to the opposite gender. if they are not found to exhibit enough dysphoria, then they are sent away and continue to be marked as their assigned gender. 

in contrast, gender’s seen as a lot more fluid once you get out of BLI’s clutches. some joys get out there knowing they’re trans, but some, it never occurs to them until they’ve spent some time in the desert. they’re able to explore themselves more once they’re out of that cage, and settle on what they think suits them best. overall, though, labels and such aren’t so important. lots of joys don’t settle things any further than a set of pronouns.

I’ve heard some of the bikes can fly,” said Alec eagerly. He sounded like Simon with a new video game. “Or go invisible at the flick of a switch. Or operate under water.
— 

City of Bones

BUT EVERYONE OVERLOOKS THIS LINE?? ALEC LIGHTWOOD WITH A MOTORCYCLE. I NEED IT IN MY LIFE.

rises from my grave hello friends it’s me mario did you all forget about me yet 😭💦

Previous art summaries: 2015 | 2014 | 2013
Sunday Shoutout

@thesociopathsclubthesociopathsclub

@marcusthetwat

@butterscotchalchemist

@stargirlxuniverse

‘Elllo, so it hasn’t been a very busy week for me so I actually got to post some stuff this week, but I am stalled on a few post mostly involving The Glass Scientist, since there may be a important stuff happening in the future of the comic, and it may change the context of the post.

That being said, today is my day off! So aside form doing some paperwork and cleaning, I will be working on some post- like drawings and playlist. (I’m mostly trying to find songs for the Society of Arcane Science playlist, its hard to find songs! Does anyone know any good song for this playlist?????)

ALSO a very special thank you to  @fullychaoticpatrol @  doughnutdebauchery and @blobbeary for creating their own rogue scientist! I love seeing these and they did such a great job!

This is a message to my followers, I know that a lot of my followers are more mutuals than anything but here’s a the thing about me-I CHECK TAGS! Usually when I post things, I leave messages and easter eggs in the tags. Therefore, I assume that when someone reblogs something and don’t leave any tags- they’re keeping it on a normal mutual level. But for the people that DO leave tags or comments, its like leaving me a little thank you note that makes my day so much better (such as the beauty’s that left me these)

Honestly, you all are so wonderful! I truly do want to be closer to my followers! That’s why I love everyone creating their own rogue scientist- it tells me what you as a individual likes- you created the character after all. Perhaps in the near future, I’ll make a little bio of myself so you guys can know more about me, but in the mean time, I want to hear from you guys! 

one last note: I realize after reading a few post that I usually make a lot of typos and the reason being is because I usually get on tumblr on my phone so a lot of it get an incorrect autocorrect. It doesn’t happen as much when I use my laptop but it’s harder to type because I accidentally spilt coffee on my keyboard. It is what it is. 

2

bells on low, on high
will you ring for augustine tonight?

♪ kh editors’ challenge! - day # 9: a graphic that has any of the kh symbols on it

I think I can say Sleeping At Last has some of the most beautiful songs I can think of. 

Each single song is so special. I always feel how huge the universe is and I tend to think about my place within it. 

Please love yourself, listen to them, let me propose you those of Space I&II (with bonus Light bc it’s important):

Light

’Сause you are loved. You are loved more than you know.
I hereby pledge all of my days to prove it so.
Though your heart is far too young to realize
The unimaginable light you hold inside,

Sun

I guess space, and time, takes violent things, angry things
and makes them kind.
We are the dust of dust., We are the apple of God’s eye.
We are infinite as the universe we hold inside.
Infinity times infinity.
Let there be light, let there be light, let me be right… 

Mercury

God knows, I am dissonance Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune
I know the further I go, The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed
And somehow I’ve fallen in love
With this middle ground at the cost of my soul
Yet I know, if I stepped aside,
Released the controls, you would open my eyes
That somehow, all of this mess 
Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life…

Venus

Like a telescope, I will pull you so close 'til no space lies in between.
And suddenly I see you. Suddenly I see you.
I was a billion little pieces 'til you pulled me into focus.
Astronomy in reverse, It was me who was discovered.

Earth

Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house.
But I put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage
To live without a lifeline.
I bend the definition of faith to exonerate my blind eye.
‘Til the sirens sound, I’m safe.

Mars

Our nights have grown so long. Now we beg for sound advice.
“let the brokenness be felt 'til you reach the other side.
There is goodness in the heart of every broken man
Who comes right up to the edge of losing everything he has.”
We were young enough to sign along the dotted line.
Now we’re young enough to try to build a better life.

Jupiter

While collecting the stars, I connected the dots.
I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m not.
I’m just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit.
Like a magnet it beckoned my metals toward it.
Make my messes matter. Make this chaos count.
Let every little fracture in me shatter out loud.

Saturn

You taught me the courage of stars before you left.
How light carries on endlessly, even after death.
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite.
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.
I couldn’t help but ask for you to say it all again.
I tried to write it down but I could never find a pen.
I’d give anything to hear you say it one more time,
That the universe was made Just to be seen by my eyes.
With shortness of breath, I’ll explain the infinite
How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist.

Uranus

[INSTRUMENTAL]

Neptune

Stitch by stitch I tear apart.
If brokenness is a form of art, I must be a poster child prodigy.
Thread by thread I come apart.
If brokenness is a work of art, Surely this must be my masterpiece.
I’m only honest when it rains. If I time it right, the thunder breaks
When I open my mouth. I want to tell you but I don’t know how.

Pluto

I’ve been worried all my life, A nervous wreck most of the time.
I’ve always been afraid of heights, of falling backwards.
I’ve been worried all my life.
’Til one day I had enough of this exercise of trust.
I leaned in and let it hurt, Let my body feel the dirt.
When I break pattern, I break ground.
I rebuild when I break down.
I wake up more awake than I’ve ever been before.

Still I’m pinned under the weight of what I believed would keep me safe.
So show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins.
Like a final puzzle piece, It all makes perfect sense to me…
The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity.
The heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity.

3

THIS IS ALL I COULD POSSIBLY OFFER THE SNK WORLD

that or I could be the official survey corps artist who does badly drawn portraits of all the officers who always inexplicably end up naked and lying on fur rugs in front of fireplace

i really freakin hate having dreams about the one person i used to know like let me be in peace it’s been years and i’ve moved on frickin stop making my brain think i haven’t out of nowhere like this

I want to read some good johndave fics but i dont see much of them nowadays

like the stars in the sky we shine

pairing: Chris Beck/Beth Johansson, Chris Beck/Beth Johansson/Mark Watney (and any variation thereof) 
fandom: The Martian
note: I’ll be honest, I’ve been wanting to write this pairing for a while, and after seeing the movie I decided to finally do it. I know this might not be a popular pairing, but you know what? Fuck it, I wanted to write it so I did. I’ll probably still write more beckwatney than anything in the future, but I’ll probably write some more for these 3 too, and I hope you guys enjoy x

on AO3

Chris was in love with Beth.

He knew that, she knew that, pretty much anyone who interacted with both of them at the same time knew that. It was one of those open secret kinda deals – everyone knew, but no one said anything. Mostly because everyone knew they were too professional to do anything about it (because Beth obviously loved Chris back).

So everyone was half right. Chris and Beth were in love. But they weren’t too professional to do anything about it.

They were just exceptionally good at hiding their relationship.

Chris, unfortunately, hid another secret. One that he thought no one knew, not even Beth.

“You’re in love with Mark?” Beth stared at him with wide, slightly hurt eyes.

Scratch that – no one but Beth knew.

“Beth-” Chris started, but Beth held up a hand.

“Don’t lie to me Chris,” she warned.

Chris swallowed and shook his head. “I, I won’t,” his voice shook, “just, just let me explain?”

He had no clue how she found out, but it was honestly a worst case scenario.

“Yes,” he whispered, “I’m in love with Mark,” and that was never something that he had honestly ever said out loud before. Chris had accepted he was bisexual years ago, but he’d never felt for another man like he did for Mark. Hell, the only other person he’d ever loved as much as he loved Mark was Beth, and it terrified him.

Beth inhaled, eyes suspiciously wet, but she stayed silent and let Chris continue.

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