tried to look up the aang movie analysis posts and what do you MEAN no one is out there actually analyzing the movie and not like. just straight up critiquing it. i want to see people talk about the lighting/shadows on aang and tagah's faces during the airship conversation and how aang's face literally gets shadowed the moment he starts agreeing with tagah and being swayed by him. with screenshots. and/or gifs-
Summary: You often seek solace in the form of the most unusual of company. So one day after you find out your father pawned you off to marry some rich man’s son, you release your woes to one of your closest friends. Thinking you had no way out, you never expected your life to take a complete 180.
Warnings: Very mild and brief mention of n.udity, otherwise this is some adventure and fluff.
Word Count: 6k exactly
A/N: Second prize for my giveaway for @nuvoleincielo! I apologize for this one taking so long - I had trouble figuring out what to do plot wise for this. I also didn’t want to surpass 5k words, but it happened anyway and I’m pleased with how this turned out. Enjoy!
Damp sand sifted with your footsteps, a trail soon washed away from the gentle lapping waves of Flat Iron Lake. A steel toned mist settled heavy amongst the surface, giving no leeway to dry land. The bleak atmosphere obscured the sinking sun. It was early evening, and soon you’d be engulfed in total darkness.
Yet you didn’t care. The tears flowing from your eyes didn’t allow much for sight anyway. Running aimlessly across the shore, you didn’t stop until your lungs burned for air, struggling to breathe properly from the exertion and crying combined. Slowing down to a walk, you breathed in the humid air and finding no physical relief.
You cast your gaze at your surroundings for the first time, though spotting hardly anything in this dense fog. The shore stretched before you, reaching into the endless depths of the lake. The calm waters lapped around the soles of your boots, dampening the leather.
Water always calmed you in the darkest of times. Staring into the murky depths instilled a sense of serenity, an escape from this cruel world, even temporarily. Swallowing the painful lump in your throat, you bent down to sit on the sand. It was cold, except you couldn’t care less. It felt soothing.
Wrapping your arms around your knees, you allowed your vision to focus on the turbid waters in front of you. Fish darted beneath the surface, occasionally jumping up to catch a bug. Oh how it must be so simple to live like a fish, not having to conform to society and just relying on basic instinct.
Even without much light, their scales held a certain iridescence to them. On a sunny day they glittered like freshly polished jewels, inviting you in for a swim amongst them.
Arthur was born in 1863, if he had survived the tb he could have realistically lived into the 1950’s.
Imagine a very old Arthur, in his 80’s, watching a cowboy movie with his great grandkids and pointing out errors. After the movie he tells the kids some very watered down stories of his days as a gunslinger. This is surprising to the kids who’ve only ever known their grandpa to be a mild mannered artist. He has to show them his old gang pictures before they believe him.
Synopsis- Your final farewell to Arthur, and the dream he leaves behind to comfort you.
TW- death, illness, angst, grief, hurt with the tiniest bit of comfort, very brief mention of contemplating suicide
WC- 1.5k
AN- I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I made myself cry writing it. I listened to this song and this song while writing this.
Soft candlelight flickered across the canvas of your shared tent. Arthur drew lazy shapes across your bare back while you laid sprawled across his naked chest.
"A cabin up in the Grizzlies, with an old hound dog," Arthur rumbled underneath you, sounding close to sleep.
"Mmmh. That sounds nice," you sighed, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while your fingers trailed through the coarse hair that covered his chest. "A lake out front so you can go fishin'."
"One day, honeybee," he promised, arm curling around you to bring you closer so he could press his lips to your temple. "Soon."
"Not soon enough," you replied honestly.
"I know…I know."
"Arthur, please."
You were begging now, reduced to clutching the lapels of his jacket and sobbing after watching Arthur pass his hat and satchel to John. But what other option did you have when the better half of your life was telling you to leave him behind to die alone?
"Please, Arthur. I can't– I can't do this without you."
"You can. You'll be alright without an old man like me," Arthur cradled one side of your face with a large palm, thumb swiping away tears as they fell. "You go with John now, honeybee. He'll keep ya safe."
Oh, how you'd hated that silly little pet name when he'd first bestowed it upon you. Now, you were sure you'd donanything asked of you if it meant continuing to hear it every day.
"D'you ever slow down?" Arthur asked, leaning against the hitching post sipping coffee from a tin cup as he watched you tend the horses. "You're like a honeybee in springtime. Make an old man tired just watchin' ya."
He chuckled when you didn't reply but gave him your best stink eye while continuing with your chores.
"Just come with us, Arthur," you pleaded, throwing a beseeching look over your shoulder at John– between the two of you, surely you could get Arthur out.
Gunshots rang out down the holler and Arthur started coughing again in earnest. Your hands fell away from his jacket as he leaned down with his hands on his knees and tried to speak through sputtering breaths.
"Go…go on. Ain't much time," he urged with a wave of his hand. "Some–" he coughed and hacked, blood tinted spittle splattering at your feet. "Someone has to stay…hold 'em off. Might– might as well be me," he sighed, pushing back up to his full height with a ragged groan while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
You rushed to hold him again, your hands on his gaunt cheeks now. Watery eyes imploring him to lean down and kiss you again. He had been so hesitant since discovering he was ill. He didn't fight you, obediently pressing his chapped lips to yours and covering your hands with his own.
"Bought you somethin' a while back and never got around to givin' it to ya," he rasped out once he had pulled away, reaching a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Bought it with honest money, before ya ask," he chuckled, grasping your hand in his and dropping the small trinket into it.
You choked out a sob when you looked down at the gold ring sitting flat in your palm.
"I love you," he said, a simple fact that couldn't be refuted as he dropped his lips to the crown of your head while you slipped the simple gold band onto your left ring finger. "Go on, now. You go, and you don't look back."
"C'mon," John called quietly, his own voice sounding broken as he grasped your elbow and began pulling you away.
You dug in your heels and ripped your arm away from him, trying to run back to Arthur. Quick as lightning, John had his arms locked around your middle and was dragging you bodily up the hill away from Arthur– he hissed out a curse when your boot connected with his shin, but didn't let up.
"No! Wait– wait!" you wailed, trying desperately to pry John's hands off of you, eyes never leaving Arthur. "Arthur, PLEASE!"
"You take care of my girl, John!"
Arthur turned away then, hoping you didn't see the tears that had started to fall as he watched his brother carry you away from him. He didn't want you to remember him like this, a withered shell of himself– but some things couldn't be helped.
-----
The trek out of Bacchus Ridge was a blur of tears. You fought John, kicking and screaming, the entire way– his bruises took weeks to fade.
After rejoining with Abigail and Jack, John had found work as a ranch hand at Pronghorn Ranch in West Elizabeth. With no direction of your own, you tagged along. Your days were filled with monotonous repetition. Tending to the horses and cleaning the barn, all the while haunted by the ghost of your late lover. The hazy blue-green of the pond where Jack liked to fish, the same enticing color as Arthur's eyes. Another ranch hand favored the same tobacco Arthur had preferred– one whiff had you looking around, desperately hoping to see him sauntering around the corner of the barn with that sly grin on his face.
Charles had returned to Bacchus Ridge to bury Arthur, and upon his return he and John had escorted you to the grave site. A simple wooden marker engraved with his name read "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness." A touching sentiment to Arthur's true nature, but lacking– with no mention of the gentle way he liked to hold you while you danced together on the edge of camp, of his quick wit, nor the promises made camped out under the starry skies of the Heartlands. Perhaps they had hoped it would provide you with closure, but all it had done was serve as a reminder that you had to live the remainder of your life without half of your soul. You would carry on, because Arthur asked it of you. Despite the tempting call of the revolver at your hip.
Now, you sat numbly on your bed, staring down at the folded scrap of paper embossed with your name in your hands. Charles had given it to you when you returned from Arthur's grave, telling you he had found it in Arthur's jacket when he buried him. It had been well over a month since he had given it to you, but you hadn't worked up the courage to read it. No words could ever provide the comfort you sought.
Finally, with a shaky sigh, you unfolded the paper. The tears at the sight of Arthur's familiar scrawl were instant. The lettering was shaky in some places– likely he had had a coughing fit in some places, but it was still familiar.
My busy little Honeybee,
If you are reading this, I'm sorry. Sorry for the hurt I know I've caused you. I was never any good at speaking my feelings so I hope that I might write them instead.
For a long time I thought I had rotten luck, but now I reckon I'm about the luckiest feller that ever lived. Being loved by you has been the highlight of my life. My only regret has been not making you my bride.
I know you're going to be worried about me. But I go now to our cabin in the mountains, in the fresh air that the doctor advised would be good for my failing health. Where every sunrise shines across the lake and is more beautiful than the day before. Our old hound dog snoozes on the porch beside me while I drink my morning coffee, watching the honeybees hard at work collecting their nectar for the winter to come. And when winter comes, I will keep the fire burning at the hearth. Waiting for you to join me here when you are ready.
Don't look back, I'm waiting up ahead.
All of my love,
Arthur
Ugly, gut wrenching sobs tore from your chest as you curled protectively around the letter held crumpled in one hand, your other hand coming to rest on your recently swelling stomach. Arthur may have thought he wasn't good at speaking his feelings, but it had always been enough for you.
-----
Arthur's farewell found a home in the breast pocket of every shirt you wore, while the golden band he had belatedly gifted to you never left your finger. And at night, when you closed your eyes for some respite from the never-ending grief, you found yourself in the paradise his words painted. Turning slow circles in the arms of the man you loved, healthy and whole and hale once more. His seafoam eyes crinkled with crows feet at the corners, a knowing smirk on his face when you blushed at the lewd comments he never seemed to tire of whispering to you. Nearby, a young boy that was the spitting image of Arthur played in a small mountain meadow of wildflowers, happy honeybees buzzing busily around his feet. All while the sun glittered on the lake nearby, and an old hound lounged underfoot.
im trying something really different rn and im totally out of my comfort zone but ima try and write some stuff for the other VDL gang members bc i’ve been really wanting to try for a while.
these are really general scenarios bc i wanna just get a feel of the characters so they’ve probably all been done before and poorly written but i still enjoyed writing it nonetheless.
————————————————
You and Sean had a lot in common and built a friendship very early on when you first joined the gang.
You were both young and chaotic in the best sort of way and happened to be two troublemakers. Mostly though, the two of you just wanted to prove your worth to the gang.
Being considerably younger and less experienced then some of the gang members, you were often overlooked or left behind. There were often instances where you or Sean were begging to come along to homesteads and train robberies.
“Hey MacGuire, I got a lead on a coach passing through the heartlands. Open and right for the taking, it’ll be an easy score.”
You approach Sean with a map and place it on the barrel he’s leaning against. Despite the fact that you’re both excited, your words are hushed like it’s a secret and well it kind of is. There’s no way Hosea or Arthur would let you do something so reckless on your own so for the meantime you and Sean act like children smuggling chocolates under your pillowcase.
Sean was beyond excited and got everything you needed for the incoming coach that would pass through tomorrow afternoon.
“I can’t wait to rub it in Arthur’s smug face when we stroll back in with a stack O’ cash in our hands. Finally we can prove ourselves that we belong here!”
When tomorrow afternoon arrived however, you might have miscalculated how guarded the coach was. There was four armed horsemen, two on the front and back of the coach as well as an armed guard in the passenger seat and two guns for hire in the actual carriage.
Both you and Sean grinned at each other, knowing exactly where this was going. The more guards, the more money they were carrying. You pulled your bandana over your face and clicked your heels, leading your horse into a gallop as you chased down the coach.
Bullets were flying past your head but you were a great shot, taking out the armed horsemen with ease (more like luck). Sean managed to deal with the driver and his gunmen before moving on to the guards in the carriage.
You jumped into the drivers seat, who had since fallen off and attempted to calm the horses that were undoubtedly spooked. Sean climbed up to meet you, taking his seat next to you but not for long.
Soon the coach went flying over a cliff as one of the mountains came to a halt. Luckily it was only a small drop off but it still managed for the wheels to break off and most of the carriage windows to shatter, the horses also ran off during the process.
“Jesus, wes we’re lucky there aye? Told ya that Irish luck will come in handy!”
Sean dusts the gravel from his shoulder and holds a hand out for you to pull yourself up on. Thank god you both walked away with minimal injuries.
You both make your way over to the safe box and you begin digging in your saddle bag for a lock pick. By the time you find it however, Sean has already shot the lock off.
“Okay no need to be dramatic.”
You were wrong though, dramatic was the perfect word for your next actions. Sitting in the lock box was over a thousand dollars of bonds, jewellery and cash. You both stare at it in a stunned silence before you’re jumping for joy, dancing and laughing like maniacs at the score you’ve just made.
In all the excitement you lean over and place a kiss to his cheek, smiling all the while.
“Whadya do that for?”
Sean is staring at you dumbfounded, more shocked at your kiss then he was when he saw the money. A slight blush slowly creeps to his face as he slowly realises you’ve kissed him.
“Because we did it! We finally proved ourselves to those old grumps like Morgan!”
His hand comes to touch where you kissed him, already missing it and wanting more but his eyebrow twitched in slight confusion.
“So ya kissed me because of old Morgan?”
You laugh, amused at Sean’s confused and innocent look. Leaning down, you place all the bills and jewels in your saddle bag before standing up and taking his hand in yours.
“No silly, I kissed you because you already proved yourself to me a long time ago.”
You kiss him again only this time on the lips and much gentler, more sincere before you start making your way back to the horses up on the mountain.
“Common Dead eye MacGuire, let’s go rub it to the rest of them over a bottle of whiskey!”
this story involves smut!! please do not read this if you are not over 18 years old
a/n: not entirely back to writing yet, but i did this and i sorta like it so lemme know what you think. also this is my first time ever writing smut that wasn’t for a roleplay so im super nervous about it. but anyway have a story with my favourite boy
masterlist
It felt like your gut had been ripped open, like there were pins where your heart was before it cracked and shattered into thousands of fragments that would never be found. It was like someone had put a bullet in your skull and it was rattling around, hitting against every nerve and causing as much damage as it went along.
Your blood turned to ice in your veins at the sight of him. Never had you seen him look so weak. So helpless. How in his voice he seemed okay despite the state of his body – at least two open wounds, his shirt stained multiple shades of red that weaved in with brown from what had already dried. Hot tears stung in your eyes when they studied him. Despite the warped vision, it was obvious to anyone that he was in pain. How his face contorted and twisted whilst Miss Grimshaw washed over his wounds to get a better look. The grunts and curses that left his dried lips were unbearable to listen to.
Roulette soulmate AU bad end: Catherine/Arthur. Curled on your skin are the last words your soulmate ever says to you. “You can be assured that I will.”/“... I guess that will have to do…"
SO this is referencing this story, which was just posted in ao3… You probably want to read that first.Also, I’m (mostly) sorry for any sadness caused. This whole thing and especially this ask is just nothing but straight pain and t r a g e d y…
“–Mrs. Cornwall ,” He continued, voice hard, “if any part of youis the woman I knew a year ago… a woman of principles and courage… if anythingin you is still true… you will take proper care of these people. They’re goodpeople. The best.”
“… I spent a year of my life ensuring that I could, Mister Morgan.” Shereplied, “You can be assured that I will.”
“… I guess that will have to do…” Arthur said without thinking, but thenhis voice faltered as he remembered the lines etched into his skin by the handsof Fate themselves. It’d always seemedlike such a silly, romantic thing—that the last words his ‘promised one’ saidto him would be an oath and assurance
omg i literally live for ur writing i had to request this one to u (but no pressure!!)
how about one where grace and reader is working closely, maybe grace is looking at some samples and reader is staying close to watch, then rocky takes a look and goes
"why grace heartbeat so fast, question?"
lmaoo then grace is like dying inside bcs hes nervous!! around reader and prays rocky shuts up by saying "no its not", then rocky (not so innocently) is like
"yes, grace heartbeat faster than reader heartbeat, statement."
sorry if its long!!😭😭
ROCKY MY BELOVED.
Title: Observation King.
Pairing: Ryland Grace x Reader.
Rating: K. ( PRETTY FLUFFY ).
Words: 4.3 K
Summary: Read the ask, haha.
Ryland Grace Masterlist.
Ryland was hovering over the microscope. Not territorially, but more… Nervously, his fingers anxiously picking at the edge of the lab table. The soft hum of the ship filled the otherwise deadspace, steady and predictable and something about that made him feel slightly better.
Slightly, like he wasn’t about to jump out of his skin watching rather boring protozoa and microbes move around on a slide. Forcing his hands to grab the edge instead of nibbling at it with his fingertips, Ryland forced some sort of precision into his body but everything else about him felt… off.
He was too aware, and not at the very interesting slide of life from another freakin’ planet.
He was too aware of you.
You were staring at the screen, right over his shoulder, with your arms crossed in contemplation as you made out the different types of microbes and such that were on the slide. Not your forte, more Ryland’s but you were giving it a whirl and he was helping you identify. Or at least, he was supposed to teach you but there was a deafening quiet that filled the air.
You were close enough to him that if you wanted to, you could definitely see the tension in his jaw when you moved forward, leaning yourself against the chair he was in to get a better view, you could see the way the poor scientist was trying to focus.
It became clear maybe a second or two into this that focusing was becoming a battle he was going to lose, no matter the variables. Ryland dropped his head forward for a moment, collecting his thoughts before throwing his head back, a bit more enthusiastic about the situation and readjusted his glasses so he could look at the screen you were paying attention to.
“See this here?” He raised his arm, the annoying bright fluorescence of the lab bouncing off the toned muscles given to him by the computer. Not that he wanted to show them off but… Ryland felt almost disgusted in himself at the admittance that he imagined you wanted to check them him out. Woohoo, look at me, beach body buff, admire my stupid muscles.
“This is an Archaea.”
He was definitely aiming for a casual, even voice but it came out just a fraction tighter than usual. Ryland shifted in his seat and coughed into his hand. Smooth man, smooth.
“And that’s different than a protozoa.” That was said under your breath, taking mental notes as you leaned forward, your body now following where he was pointing.
Okay, so pointing was a big mistake. Ryland could feel the heat of your body against him when you raised your hand up to grab the screen, bringing it a bit closer. He stiffened, summoning what little unfortunate willpower he had left to not look over and come face to well… Chest with you.
“Yup, yup.” He was quick to say and scooted forward in the seat, almost to the point where he was clinging on by just two inches and supporting more of his body on his legs. His quads were going to thank him tomorrow in the form of intensely sore movements.
“Different things. Very different. Yeah, I can uh… Suggest some books for you to read about the differences,” He pushed his glasses up, your eyes catching the shine of the golden frames as you gazed down at him. “Uh… Very… Thrilling content.”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned back and stared at him, mild perplexity written on your expression. You wanted to ask something, but before you were able, the familiar voice cut in from the laptop on the counter next to you.
“Grace heart rate erratic. Grace okay, question?”
Ryland… Froze. And not in the typical ‘oh, hahaha funny you noticed that’ sort of way. More in the ‘I’m caught in a line-up, but I’m totally innocent’ sort of way, his eyes widening at the words as they processed in his brain.
The blonde let out a short and awkward laugh, a somewhat strangled sound in his throat that didn't quite land the way he wanted to, his grip tightening almost noticeably on the edge of the table. “It’s… Not. Totally normal. It’s a totally normal heartbeat happening right now.”
You tilted your head slightly and studied him like he was one of the microbes on the slide. He couldn’t even bring himself to move out of fear that one of you - let’s be real here - Rocky would notice and say something.
“Are you… sure?”
“Grace incorrect.”
Ryland squeezed his blue eyes shut for half a second before they flew open and he was gazing… Glaring at the Eridian on the other side of the xenonite wall. “Please stop talking.”
Rocky tilted his carapace slightly. It was clear he understood the words, not the implication of emotion that Ryland was using though which you thought was quite amusing considering a lot of Rocky’s language was up to listening interpretation. You bit your bottom lip, leaning back against the metal wall of the ship and glanced between the two of them.
“Grace heart rate faster than (Last Name).” Rocky was adamant to say.
You looked at Ryland again, curiosity seeping into your pores as you added gently, “Mine feels pretty normal so I guess Rocky is using it as the baseline in this observation.”
“(Last Name) correct.”
Ryland could quite literally feel the heat climbing steadily up his neck, spreading across his skin in a blotchy mess that felt impossible to hide. He refused to look at you, focusing instead on a completely unimportant section of the screen like it was anchoring him back to the Tau Ceti system.
“I mean…”
He puffed his cheeks, bringing one of his hands down to rub against the outside of his clothed thigh, maybe in some subconscious way to get his palms to stop feeling so clammy as the other hand gestured vaguely upwards towards the display. You watched in baited amusement, his motion incredibly choppy and almost… Inhuman.
“Science is… Uh stressful… Lots of pressure. Very high-stakes. Heartbeats… Happen.”
“Uh-huh.” You hummed, crossing your chest and telling him in body motion alone that you were not convinced.
Beside you in his crushing atmosphere, Rocky made a thoughtful sound, like the engineer he was, working out a problem. He tilted ever so slightly, angling himself as if refining measurements guided by vibrations and subtle rhythm of sound.
“Grace exhibit strange behavior when close to (Last Name).”
Ryland choked on the air, hands falling onto the lab table with a ‘thwump’ and in one remarkably quick motion, he was trailing towards the Eridian, his long legs moving without a real plan as he ended up with his face precariously close to the xenonite, almost to the point where he had it pressed, you could vaguely see his breath condensating against it as he pleaded to the five-legged alien.
“Woahhhh-okay, that’s enough data collection for today buddy, let’s give it a rest.”
“Did Rocky just suggest I make you nervous?” You bit your lip, a smile threatening to come to the surface.
Ryland sputtered, pressing his forehead against the cooling xenonite and closed his eyes, “He… Suggested something to that degree, yes. Bu-But his basis is---”
“New observation.”
He physically tensed, his shoulderblades feeling rigid like they were going to snap. “No, no follow ups. We are done with the observations.”
“Grace temperature increase.” Rocky announced anyway, his computerized voice mixing with the thrumming notes from his carapace. Calm and precise in a way that just… Made everything worse.
Ryland felt his stomach drop without a beat, feeling your eyes on his body. He felt prickly around the edges, like you could see the moving aura and he became hyper-aware of his body and how he must have looked to you. He felt sticky warm, he could still feel you close by. God, it must be obvious if Rocky was able to sense it. Uncertainly, he shifted on the balls of his feet so he could spot a glance at you, hoping to the universe that whatever heat was on his face was not that perceptible to the visual spectrum.
Aaaannnndddd, you were looking at him. Of course you were. He couldn’t be lucky enough that your attention was on something else. But, instead of pulling away as his blue gaze met yours, you leaned in, almost imperceptively, but just enough to catch Ryland off guard as he leaned back in response. He opened his mouth to say something, probably something stupid and along the lines of ‘Stop looking at me!’ like one his students in the middle of a fight with their best friend who well… Wouldn’t stop staring at them like they were some foreign object.
But, unfortunately, Ryland’s lottery did not end there.
“Grace temperature increase significant. Approximately 1% of baseline human temperature.”
“That’s pretty significant.”
Came your voice. It sounded normal, but something under the tone shifted to… Playfulness that Ryland was unsure of. Were you… making fun of him? Great. Just another shot to his ego. Whatever ego he had left, that is. Rocky had a weird way of absolutely demolishing it at times like this with incredible blunt precision. Like, instead of being beaten down with a physical blunt object, you were being beaten down with blunt words.
Ryland leaned his upper half against the xenonite wall, bending his elbows so he could push his glasses upwards into his hair, getting lost somewhere in the golden thickness as he dragged his hand down his face, slow and painful. He pressed his fingers to his eyelids and pinched until he saw stars, “Ohhhh my god.”
It was your turn again to glance at Rocky, oblivious and clearly satisfied with himself to Ryland who looked like he wanted to slam his head against the xenonite and end it all. Amusement rose in your chest alongside the dawning realization of what Rocky had been observing in today’s mishaps. “I mean, you are kinda hot, Dr. Grace.”
Rocky shifted, his body scraping lightly against the surface below as he repositioned, closer to you this time. “(Last Name) cause Grace reaction intentionally, question?”
Ryland snapped his head up so face, he nearly knocked over from exerted force. His balance was caught at the last second as he spat, “Do not answer that!”
You paused, mouth open at his reaction and for a second… You considered answering the curious Eridian. But, maybe some things just needed to stay between you and the scientist. You glanced down at Rocky, “I don’t think I’m really doing anything.”
That was innocently put. Ryland glanced at you, his eyes narrow. There was… A tiny slight tilt in your voice that gave it away. You were enjoying this.
There was a hard silence.
“Should I be doing something…?”
Ryland’s hard gaze shifted into one of… Confusion. What… Did you just say? The two of you just… Stared at one another, unaware for the few seconds that spared to hear Rocky’s low humming, thoughtful like he was processing fresh data points and slotting them into place, very neatly, very calmly and very deductively.
“(Last Name) proximity equal increase Grace heart rate, increase temperature, decrease speech efficiency.”
“Got it,” You were replying to Rocky, nodding as if taking notes again. “So if I just…” You shifted closer to Ryland, biting down on your bottom lip and chewing it tentatively. That action caught him off guard, his eyes watching before they met your gaze once again.
He straightened up slightly, both from your motion and the absurdity of Rocky’s statement. He needed to cling to the one part of this he thought he could argue, grasping like it was a lifeline. “My speech--- My speech is fine!” Well, that was a great time to stutter like an imbecile.
“Counterpoint.” Rocky said immediately. “Grace words earlier. ‘Very high-stakes. Heartbeats. Happen.’ Not logical statement.”
You giggled, unable to stop it this time as you brought a hand to cover your mouth, “That… That was pretty bad, Dr. Grace.”
“That was…” He groaned, “Those were completely normal, Human words!”
His voice cracked right at the end, completely undermining the statement. His ears felt like they were on fire, Ryland tugging his larger body away from the xenonite and trailing across the small lab area, hands on his hips. You were watching him, it was painfully obvious to the tiny hairs on his body that seemed to react to even the minute attention you so blessed him with.
There was a pause in the air. Just long enough to be clearly intentional, like everyone was in agreement of the bombshell that was about to fall on you all.
Then…
“Is human courtship attempt, question?”
Heat swelled against your cheeks at that revelation as you trailed your eyes from the computer where Rocky’s voice just made the announcement of the century at Tau Ceti, to Ryland across the room who was… Well, it was hard to tell what he was thinking as he had his arms gestured out, almost frozen in place and his mouth propped open. Shocked, clearly.
“Oh…” Your voice peeped.
The chaos erupted. Ryland shot across the room, nearly tumbling over the stray lab chair he had been sitting in at the start of all of this, mumbled a few very clean and very teacher-esque profanities under his breath in the process before coming up on Rocky, crouching down and grabbing the xenonite wall like it was the only thing stopping him from strangling the poor Eridian.
“Absolutely not!!” Ryland sounded strangled, this sitting somewhere between a protest and a total system failure from the brain. “I am not… Oh my g--- That is not… Rocky!”
“Rocky can help, question?”
He tilted towards you again, oblivious to Ryland’s desperate pleading stance. Or not oblivious. Rocky was right, he was confident in that and just getting adamant denial from Ryland was going to prolong the Erdian’s desire for knowledge and experimentation based on his conclusion. A.K.A, don’t waste my time, Human.
“Rocky good at problem-solve.”
“No!” Ryland said immediately, panic threading through the sharp word as he crawled backwards on his hands and knees to look at Rocky, almost bumping into you in the process. He became hyper-aware of the distance between the two of you again. Great.
“No assisting. There will be zero assisting because nothing is happening!”
You tilted your head and crouched down to Ryland’s level. For all things that are holy--- His blue eyes met yours again, this time more frantically. You could see his tense breathing, the push and pull of his chest. “I’d… like to hear Rocky’s ideas.”
Ryland fell back. Hard. Straight onto his butt with a loud groan like you had just betrayed him on a fundamental level, his legs spreading out, eyes wide and breath trying to catch up for a split second before he forced himself into recovery mode.
“No,” His voice dropped in urgency, “We are not crowdsourcing my… My… This….” He gestured between the two of you, “Whatever this is!”
“What is this?”
You countered, and that seemed to stop all motion from the scientist in front of you. Slowly, Ryland dropped his large hands into his lap because he… didn't have an answer to that without admitting to Rocky’s conclusion. Not that it was correct. Ryland was pretty sure he’d know if he had a crush on you. He let his head fall back slightly, raising one of his hands and grasping his glasses in the process. Maybe the ceiling would offer an escape route.
“Grace reaction not expected.”
“You could say that again, Rock.”
You muttered under your breath as Ryland tried so desperately to collect himself and his thoughts. His chest was rising and falling just a little too fast, he knew you were still staring at him and now he was… Flushed from embarrassment and had nowhere to run, which to him, was very often a default setting.
It got quiet again, which you and Ryland had learned, was never a good sign.
“Have more observations.”
Ryland groaned.
You perked up.
“Grace heart rate increase.” Rocky said, “Twelve percent over baseline.”
“Wait, what was it before?” Your curiosity got the best of you much to Ryland’s well… again, embarrassment.
“Correction, now fifteen percent.”
Ryland squeezed his eyes shut, “Please stop measuring me.”
You let out a soft whistle under your breath along with a quiet spoken ‘wow’ like you were impressed.
Ryland’s brain did a little jump with serotonin at that thought. Ah, so you thought something of his was impressive! This was good, this was very good! No it is not, Ryland! This is the worst thing to be impressed by! He had better things for you to be impressed by!
“That’s pft…” He puffed his cheeks out, “That’s okay, I’m just stressed.” He muttered quickly, “This is a stressful situation!”
You leaned towards him. “Still curious what this situation is.”
Ryland leaned back, mouth open at your shift in proximity.
“Define ‘situation’.”
Ryland opened his mouth to say something - probably snarky, but nothing but air came out.
He closed it.
Then opened it again.
His brain… Had completely short-circuited.
“Grace explain.”
“...Science…”
Ryland explained weakly, his shoulders raising as if it were a question and not an answer as he once again fixated on some part of the ceiling that was not your face. Ryland hated that he could sense you moving next to him in your crouched position, searching for his stare no doubt to make this even worse for him. But, if he weren’t tugged into his own self-absorption, he’d linger enough to realize that there was a pretty cute blush against your face as well.
You snorted quietly, looking at Rocky and just knowing that the flustered blonde sitting in front of you was thinking the same thing you were. Bossy.
“Data comparison.”
Rocky continued. Ryland felt his chest heave.
“Grace heart rate earlier during observation analysis, baseline. Grace heart rate with (Last Name) close proximity, elevated.”
Your mouth popped open as you watched Ryland tug his hand against the back of his neck. “That’s uhm… pretty specific.”
“You’re cherry-picking data!” Ryland pointed at the clueless Eridian who didn't shift at all at the sharp gesture. It lacked any and all conviction thus making it very… Unconvincing.
“Selecting relevant data.”
“Stop selecting it like you’re on some game show.”
“No understand.”
Ryland threw his arms into the air dramatically before they came down and rested on the back of his head like he was stretching. It was hard not to watch; even harder to not admire as you sat back on your heels next to him with a small smile playing on your lips.
“Grace temperature increase by 1.4 standard degree.”
You leaned in, holding out your hand like Ryland was a campfire, “Can confirm findings. He feels hot.”
Ryland made a strangled noise when he looked at your hand, only inches away from touching his bicep. “This cannot be accurately scientific---”
“Now 1.6 degrees.”
“Rocky!” Ryland sounded like he was on the verge of tears but that wasn’t the case for you as you felt a small laugh bubble to the surface. You threw your head back and let it out, hard and captivating in the air for the poor scientist who was left metaphorically reeling in space without a tether. He watched you shamelessly. The way your neck exposed itself, the way your laugh sounded, and how happy and joyful you looked.
For a moment, Ryland just stared. Completely, utterly doomed.
The molecular biologist was still flushed from the face down, probably all the way down to where the sun didn't shine, his shoulders were taut and tense like he had yet to decide if it was worth it to flee or argue further. All that he could hear now was how your laugh lingered, full chested until it softened around the edges and he felt something in him snap.
A small, reluctant huff slipped past his pink lips. It barely classified as a chuckle. More like… The subtle idea of one. Ryland found himself shaking his head at your reaction, letting his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose at the motion, eyes dropping to your smile as if it were somehow going to spare him. “This is… highly unscientific.” His voice had lost all bite.
You nodded in agreement, wiping a little tear away from the corner of your eye as small giggles were still escaping from your lungs. It was hard to breathe, Ryland finding it for you and huffing out another breath that tangled into a quiet giggle of his own. It was low and uneven, like he wasn’t used to letting moments like this happen. Heck… When was the last time he… really laughed…?
You leaned against him suddenly, still giggling, trying to catch your breath. His warmth pressed against your side, grounding you, and the close contact seemed to crack his composure further.
Ryland exhaled whatever air was left in his lungs, letting a louder chuckle leave him, shoulders loosening as it finally all came out. A soft chuckle bled hard into an obnoxious laugh. It was threaded so carefully with traces of embarrassment but it was almost unmistakably genuine, coming straight from his chest.
“This is---” Ryland giggled, the sound hitting your ears blissfully as you had moved to rest your forehead against his shouldercap, still trying to compose yourself in the fit of laughter. “This is not---”
“Scientific.” You mimicked his voice and the whole thing started over again.
Ryland this time throwing back his head with a small, “I do not sound like that!”
To which you adamantly nodded your head, squeezing his arm as you almost threw yourself back in intense howl. “You totally do!”
Ryland opened his mouth to further the argument, but nothing came out except another helpless burst of laughter. It knocked whatever protest he had left away from the conversation, his head tipping back as he gave in completely this time, no restraint, no worry that he was being too much or too absurd. All that mattered was this moment with you.
“You are---” Ryland wheezed, his breath hitching a bit as he dragged his hand across his mouth and beard, smiling against his palm, unable to stop the chuckling. “You are a terrible lab partner.”
You gave him a cheeky grin, another huff of laughter against his shoulder, “And yet you’re having the time of your life.”
“That is grossly inaccurate data representation.” He gestured vaguely at the ship as if to say ‘look where we are and re-think your statement!’
“Grace statement false.”
The two of you paused for a moment, sharing a glance like you had an inside joke before immediately dissolving into chaos again.
Ryland groaned through his laughter, his cheeks now pink from over-exertion. His head fell forward, almost bumping straight into yours.
“You’re enabling him!” He accused, letting his forehead almost sink straight into yours as you lifted your head to look him straight in the face. Ryland looked cute. More than cute, you tilted your head as your giggles began dying down, lifting your hand to wipe at the literal tears that had formed around the creases of your eyes. He was… charming… Almost irresistible as your eyes spotted a glance at his mouth.
Annnnd that did not go unnoticed because it was returned right away, Ryland’s glasses shining with the slight movement of his head to get a better glance at what he was staring at. You could see his breathing shift. It wasn’t a dramatic or loud movement, but enough that you felt it where your foreheads kissed. The laughter that once consumed you turned down to almost impenetrable silence.
Neither of you were willing to pull away, your hand still lingering on his upper arm. Not to keep yourself steady anymore, but to… Hold because you wanted to. Ryland could feel the tickle of your finger tips against his heated skin and goosebumps rose there as a result as your motion turned from one of grasping to one of complete complacency and trust.
His eyes flickered up and down. From your lips, to your eyes back to your lips again. There was still something warm floating between the two of you but in the blink of an eye, it got heavier than the ship itself.
“I uhm…” The scientist started again, voice an octave lower and caressing your ears, along with the breath from his mouth against your face. His hand was hovering awkwardly between you, stuck between running away and grabbing you full force. “Uh… still…”
“Unscientific?” You offered with an amusement grin, the smile around your eyes making Ryland want to melt straight into the metal floor.
“Deeply compromised methodology.” He stared at your mouth.
You stared at his right back, no reserve. “Then… We should probably… stop…” Except neither of you moved. There was no will power to lean back, you didn't think to give him the space that your words implied.
“Probably…” Ryland echoed. He swallowed and you could see the bob of his Adam's apple, all too enticing as you pushed yourself to close what little gap there was.
“Grace (Last Name) close proximity. (Last Name) heart rate now elevated.”
If a pen dropped, it would probably cause the greatest earthquake. In space.
Ryland sighed, dropping his head as you shifted back onto your heels, red in the face. There was just enough space between the two of you to miss the closeness, Ryland throwing his hand up to physically block Rocky’s attempt at observation. “Rocky! You cannot just announce that!”
“More information.” Rocky was succinct.
“Don’t you dar---”
“(Last Name) showing high probability of reciprocal---”
“Rocky.”
Silence.
gummygunk
stormborns
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
areudirty
