#--switch out my mattress because this one is killing me and mine has been standing on its side for four fucking months because--

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

ah, yes: 2AM, and my hair is almost dry from my nighttime shower. i am doing a bang up job of adjusting my sleep schedule in preparation for birds this weekend...

#text #personal #sleep #whine whine whine #kind of lol #birds #seriously why am i like this #i finished my nightly typing goal at uuuuh 1 so like #cmon #iterations #nanowrimo #nano2020 #writing #also i didnt knit as much as i wanted today and i didnt make as much fluff progress as i wanted to AND i havent rearranged my room to-- #--switch out my mattress because this one is killing me and mine has been standing on its side for four fucking months because-- #--im still fucking here and fucking jobless so #hnngh #i want to Flee i cannot flee without a Job who all is struggling in this rona world to find one of THOSE with me ugh #i should sleep im grumpy but im fucking nocturnal now and NOT FUCKING TIRED #im so fucked for saturday at 10am lolsob

[badgirlcovenrep]

atlas

Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot

(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.

It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.

They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.

Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.

The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.

But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.

Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.

****

Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.

The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.

They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.

It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.

It was a relief from the usual doom.

And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.

****

In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.

She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.

But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.

Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.

"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.

"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."

"I don't have a choice."

"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."

A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.

"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.

Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-

"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-

"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.

It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.

Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.

Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.

"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."

"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.

Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.

Or trying to kill her dead brother.

"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."

The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.

"But this is the only Gabe I have."

Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.

And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.

"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.

"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.

"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."

"That would have been so funny."

"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."

Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.

"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.

"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."

"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."

"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."

And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.

She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.

****

She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.

Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.

Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.

Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.

Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.

Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.

Water. Water will make her feel better, right?

Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.

The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.

You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-

"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"

In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."

Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.

How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.

"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.

But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.

She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.

She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.

"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.

"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.

"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."

"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.

Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.

It scared her. More than anything.

"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.

Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.

"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."

And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.

But it all suddenly makes so much sense-

Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.

Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.

Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.

Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.

"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.

Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.

"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"

"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."

"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.

But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.

Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.

"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."

At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.

If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.

It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.

She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.

Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.

And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.

#send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #chengrich #alex chen #steph gingrich #life is strange true colors #long post #chenrich fanfic #chenrich fic #alex chen × steph gingrich

[wonder-womans-ex]

One Word Answer

Luke won’t even try to deny it—he’s fighting back tears as he pushes the screen door open. The house is so silent he thinks it might be empty, and, quite honestly, that’s probably for the best. If he tries to talk to anyone right now, he actually is going to start crying. 

All he wants is to curl up on the Lupins’ sofa and think about whatever the fuck it was he did wrong; whatever he did to deserve this. 

But he has no such luck. 

The instant he enters the living room, he’s met by an onslaught of noise. There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, and the smiling faces of his friends—James, Remus, Sirius, Logan, Leo, Finn; he even thinks he might see Lily in the corner—are there to greet him. Remus approaches first, and presses a glass of champagne into his hands. 

He passes it right back, and the noise stills, and Remus’s face falls slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Obviously something’s wrong.” 

Luke sighs. “Just forget it.”

“What?”

“Forget it. Forget this.” He gestures around them, at the people, the decorations, the alcohol. “There’s no point.”

“What are you talking about?” 

Isn’t Remus supposed to be the smart one? Is he really going to make Luke say it? “He said no, Remus.”

If the room was quiet before, now it’s unbelievably so; painfully so. “He said no,” he says again, this time more to himself. 

He barely feels himself slump against the doorframe, sliding down to the floor with a slight thump. His head falls to the side, and he squeezes his eyes closed in one final attempt to stop the tears. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, though it feels, in a way, like he’s dreaming; he hears Remus’s voice, determined and far, far too loud: “Okay, everyone out. He needs… he needs.”

There follows the all-encompassing silence of a party ended too soon. Footsteps pass by him, going out into the hall, but Luke doesn’t have the energy to try to put gaits to faces and faces to names. He doesn’t have the energy to do anything but sit there and feel the uncomfortable warmth of his tears spill from his eyes and trail down his cheeks. 

“I’ll go,” he hears Sirius say, once there’s no one left but the three of them, “and talk to…” he trails off, perhaps not saying the name for fear of it killing Luke just a little more inside, but it does nothing to help. All he can think of is hazel eyes and blond curls and gold, gold, gold. 

And then it’s just them there: Luke, who needs to be comforted, and Remus, who hasn’t had to comfort him in so long that he’s forgotten how to—or maybe he never knew at all. 

“I’m sorry,” Remus says. 

“Don’t be.”

For the first time since it happened, Luke opens his fist. He opens his eyes, too, and he stares at the glint of metal. He bought the ring so long ago; he spent hours deliberating, trying to find the perfect one, and now it seems it doesn’t matter after all. 

“He said no,” he whispers again, and this time it feels, even to him, like he’s just trying to convince himself of that. He looks up, meeting Remus’s gaze, and he brings his knees up to his chest, curling himself into a ball, into a defense mechanism, and buries his face in his hands. “I love him.”

“I know.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

“But you don’t know!” This—this anger isn’t like him. Or, well, it is like him—it’s how he was before the treasure, when they were just Gods and Hollows. It’s how he was before Saint. 

He feels one of Remus’s hands grasp his, and he thinks of all the times they tried so hard to be in love. For years, they thought that it had to be each other; that they would never have anyone else. But it never worked out, because Remus needed Sirius—brave, easy Sirius—and Luke needed Saint. 

Saint who was harsh like ice and warm like sunlight. Saint who loved like he fought. 

Saint who said no. 

Gently, Remus pries the ring out of his hand. He hears the click as it’s set down on the floor beside them, and he lets himself be enveloped in the arms of the boy who was his only friend in the world for so very long. 

*

The apartment is empty when Luke gets back. The lights are off; the door is locked; Saint’s wallet is still on the counter here he left it. He wonders where Saint is. He wonders if Saint is going to come back. 

He wonders whether he wants him to. 

Well, that’s not quite right. Of course he wants Saint to come back. What he’s not so sure about is whether he wants Saint to acknowledge any of this. 

He’s been hurt in a way he didn’t know he could be hurt. He has his defenses—he always has—and he took them down for the boy who was somehow both wild dreams and harsh reality all at once. For the first time in his life, he saw he was falling in love, and he let himself. He had no idea that that love would ever—could ever—destroy him in the way it is now. 

Saint loves him. Luke knows this. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have pretended to, because while Saint is a good liar, he is not a happy one. He’s lived far too much of his life surrounded by half-truths, and he would never willingly do something that would hurt himself. 

Hurting other people, yes. But Saint is not self-destructive. He’s just reckless. 

Luke sets his keys down on the coffee table. He stares at the sofa—the sofa he and Saint bought together—and he clenches his jaw. His fist flies, practically of its own accord, into one of the couch cushions, and he feels his anger hit boiling point. 

Just as quickly, it cools. 

He’s not so much mad at Saint as he is mad at himself for wanting to be mad at Saint. He’s always known himself to be a paradox, and now, here, in the semi-darkness of the place he calls home, he finally understands that now is no exception. 

When he enters the bedroom, he reaches out blindly with one hand for the light switch. To an outsider, it would seem like nothing has changed at all, but in reality, Luke’s entire world has been flipped on its head. It feels like it, anyway. 

He goes through the motions. He brushes his teeth; he changes into his pajamas; but all the while he’s teetering on the edge of a precipice. 

Climbing into bed and smelling the briny tang of salt water that Saint always carries with him is what finally tips him off the edge. He becomes lost in the memory of this afternoon, and it’s like Crucio all over again; he’s drowning in the past and the present and the future—

“Do you recognize this place?” Luke asks, hands in his pockets. 

“Of course.” 

The sun shines off Saint’s hair, bright and beautiful, and Luke tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It’s natural—they’ve said it a hundred thousand times by now, and, as Luke squeezes the ring he’s holding, he hopes beyond hope they’ll be able to say it a hundred thousand more. 

“Saint?” 

When Saint turns around, his eyes go wide. Luke tries to keep his balance—his jeans are already damp at the knee from the still-dewy grass, and the faint warmth of the noonday sun does nothing to calm his nerves. His breath shakes; he almost drops the ring as he holds it out. 

“Hey,” he says, trying to smile. Inhale, exhale, he tells himself, and starts over again. 

“I think you know why I’ve brought you here, but I’m going to say it anyway. 

“This place, right here, is where we were when I finally fell in love with you. Sure, I’d been falling for a long time, but it was here that I hit rock bottom and realized I wanted to stay there.” 

Saint must know where this is going. There’s no way he doesn’t. But his expression is unreadable, and Luke has to force himself to look away in order to keep going. 

“I love you, Saint. I have for so long it scares me to think about and I will for the rest of time. You mean the world to me—I hope you know that. You are, without a doubt, my everything, and I want more than anything for you to remain my everything forever. 

“You’ve spent years without a last name that truly feels like home. What I’m offering now, what I’m laying my heart bear in the hopes of, is that you can take mine. Will you—” he swallows, finally focusing his gaze; finally meeting Saint’s eyes, “—will you marry me?”

It’s like time has forgotten where it was going before—or perhaps even that it was ever going anywhere at all. Luke waits, biting his lip and trying not to smile, for an answer.

Saint turns his head away; he’s looking at something in the distance. His fingers are twitching ever so slightly at his side, and Luke’s heart falters. 

“I’m sorry,” whispers Saint, still looking away, and Luke doesn’t need to hear any more. It’s as if someone has taken an axe to the very fibre of his being; his dreams of the future are being chipped away at in front of his very eyes. 

Luke clears his throat. “Right.” He stands up, and his leg hurts like a bitch from kneeling, but he won’t say anything. The last thing he can do right now is show weakness. The last thing he can do is prove to Saint that he, Luke Deveaux, isn’t worth it. 

“Wait,” Saint calls after him when he turns to go, but Luke isn’t listening. Of course Saint has his excuses, and, knowing Saint, they’re probably damn good ones, too, but he doesn’t want to hear them. Not now, when the chasm down the centre of his heart is still fresh and bleeding. Not now, when it hurts to take even a single step away from the man he loves, but he has to anyway. 

Maybe not ever. 

Luke isn’t asleep. He’s caught in the half-place—the place you go when you’re not there, not yet, but you aren’t quite here, either. So he feels the mattress dip beside him, and he feels the breath on the back of his neck, and he feels the hand curl protectively over his waist. He hears Saint say “I’m sorry,” in that quiet, desperately painful voice he has. 

“You’re not,” he says into the silence, and he waits. 

“I am,” Saint tells him. “I really am. I’m sorry I can’t want that. I’m sorry I can’t be that. I’m sorry I’m not enough.”

The last part is raw and full of emotion, and it would kill Luke completely if he was to say anything but “You are enough.”

“Not for you, I’m not.”

He still doesn’t turn over to face Saint—he’s not ready for that—but he lets himself relax slightly into his arms. “You are. You’re enough. You’re more than enough. Sometimes—sometimes I think you might be a little too much, actually.”

Saint’s other hand slots quietly over his. It makes his breath catch in his throat, but he can feel, in the thrum, the ever-constant ebb and flow of Saint’s very being, that it makes all of this so much easier. 

“What I wanted to say,” Saint starts—tentatively, as if he’s scared that at any moment Luke is going to decide he doesn’t want to hear it—“earlier today, is that I don’t want that. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve never wanted a wedding and a certificate and a house and a family and honey, I’m home. That’s… that’s not for me. 

“The way I see it, marriage is an anchor. It’s there to make sure you never stray. It’s a choice you make once, and it’s a choice that stays with you forever.”

Exactly, Luke thinks, but he says nothing. 

“What I want—what I’ve always wanted, I just never thought it was within any realm of possibility until I fell in love with you—is a hundred choices. I want freedom in the fact that there isn’t really freedom at all. I want two boats, floating freely, that always find their way back to each other. I want to wake up next to you every morning knowing that I could leave if I wanted to but make the choice not to. 

“And I know that’s not what you want. But I can’t make myself play happy families because the truth of it is that that isn’t me. I’m a wanderer. I want a reason to stay in one place, not a rule to keep me there. I’m sorry.” 

He can feel Saint’s mouth moving against the place where his spine meets the cords of his neck. He can feel Saint’s tears, but it’s okay, because he’s crying, too. 

“No.” His voice is far too loud for the weighted silence of the room. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I tried to make you choose between yourself and me. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that I don’t want marriage; I want you. I want you in your entirety; I want you in your all-encompassing happiness. That’s all I want. I want what you can give me—nothing more, nothing less.”

Slowly, Luke turns over onto his back. Saint immediately tucks his face into the space between Luke’s shoulder and neck, and this, this feels right. 

“I love you,” Saint whispers. “I’ll always love you.”

“And I you.”

Saint laughs, a quiet noise that sounds like it’s half sob, as well. “And I tried to want that. I really did. At the wedding, I looked at you in that suit and I tried so hard to imagine if that was, well, us.”

“But you couldn’t.” As he says it, Luke presses a kiss to the crown of Saint’s head—the curls tickle his nose, and he closes his eyes for a moment and lets himself just be. 

“I couldn’t. And I thought that was okay, because I never even considered that you could love me enough to… to want that with me.”

Luke pulls back, propping himself up on one elbow and creating enough space between them for him to look Saint in the eyes. They haven’t properly looked at each other since this afternoon, but that particular shade of hazel is all Luke has been able to think about. “It has nothing to do with how much I want you,” he says, and then he realizes how that sounds. “Or, rather, it is no indicator of how much I want you. It’s like you said—marriage is like an anchor. Sure, I haven’t always wanted that anchor, but that doesn’t change the fact that, anchor or no, I’ve always known, somewhere, that I’ll never let us drift apart.”

There are a few moments where they simply stare at each other. Luke runs his tongue along the edges of his teeth, pressing it into the sharpness of his canines just to feel something. Then Saint smiles that half-smile of his—the one he only ever wears when he and Luke are alone—and reaches up to cup Luke’s cheek in his palm. 

“Fucking hell, Tweedle,” he says, in a soft, gentle voice that doesn’t at all match the words coming out of his mouth, “that might be the sappiest shit I’ve ever heard you say.” 

Luke rolls his eyes and grins. He leans down, brushing his mouth against Saint’s. Their lips are barely touching, but, even so, Luke feels himself smile into the kiss. He’s at home here. 

“You know,” Saint says later, when they’re simply lying in the dark, Luke’s head resting on Saint’s chest and one of Saint’s fingers tracing circles in Luke’s back, “there is one downside to the whole ‘not getting married’ plan.”

Luke wonders if he’s walking into a trap. “What’s that?”

“The last name thing.” 

“Mm hmm.” Luke yawns. “Saint Deveaux does have a nice ring to it.”

“That it does.”

There’s another minute or two of comfortable silence, before Luke speaks up again. “And the second thing?”

“The second—oh.” Saint waits half a second before, “No divorce jokes.”

Luke laughs despite himself, relishing in the way Saint’s chest moves as he laughs, too. Saint, he knows now, is his choice. Saint is everything. Saint is home.

Saint is forever. 

characters are by the incredible @lumosinlove

thanks to @im-oknutzy-trash for betaing

#st. tweedle #luke deveaux #saint #relic keel lumosinlove #angst with a happy ending #the author projects their own insecurities about marriage onto fictional characters #luke x saint #idk what to tag this #wolfstar are married in this btw #yes I did extensive research on economy and real estate pricing before realizing that it doesn't matter because this is relic keel #so they've all got pirate treasure #and are hence loaded

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Okay so Aguni is sound asleep, just enjoying the few hours of peace he has, when there's a knock on the door. He ignores it, but the person just keeps knocking and knocking.

"Morizono, open the goddamn door!" he hears Takeru call, "This is an emergency!"

He groans to himself before standing up and opening the door.

"What?"

"So, remember that weird chonky cat Niragi found?"

"Yeah... what about it?"

"It's not fat... and is not a cat."

Where Hatter and apparently every other idiot at the Beach mistake a domesticated pregnant genet for a fat exotic cat. And it just gave birth on Hatter's bed.

I have no idea in what direction this is supposed to go lol but hopefully something chaotic.

alright I had to look up what a genet is and DAMN they are CUTE AS HELL and I’m love them v much

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Terminator

Rating: PG-13 for dialogue and like one drug reference

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Aguni Morizono is a simple man who enjoys simple pleasures.

He enjoys a healthy slathering of grape jelly on his toast. He enjoys watching the sunset reflect over the ocean. He enjoys watering his garden and reading the newspaper and taking naps on the sofa on Sunday afternoons after he’s finished his grocery shopping for the week.

What he does not particularly enjoy is being shaken awake by a borderline-frantic Takeru in the middle of the night.

Takeru insists that he has a good reason; that this is an emergency. Aguni reminds him that running out of marijuana does not qualify as an emergency, and pulls the blanket over his head in an attempt to shut the very exuberant man out.

But the aforementioned exuberant man refuses to be shut out, and he references the aforementioned emergency again—this time insisting that it is an actual real emergency and requires immediate attention. Aguni sincerely doubts this and tries his damnedest to fall back to sleep—a truly Herculean task, given Takeru’s incessant talking and the way he’s bouncing on the other side of the mattress like some kind of weird large puppy. Aguni is just about to enter the first misty moments of dozing off as Takeru says words like ‘Niragi’ and ‘cat’ and ‘bed’ and it’s all somewhat possible to ignore until he utters one word that makes Aguni sit straight up.

‘Babies.’

Now, ‘babies’ as a concept does not bother Aguni. He’s actually somewhat fond of them, the way they unabashedly stare at him on the train or in the park, eyes wide and fat little hands waving a clumsy ‘hello’ in his general direction. And if he waves back sometimes, well...that’s his business. (It’s only polite, after all.)

No, the issue here is that ‘babies’ and ‘the Borderlands’ sounds like a terrible, terrible mix. What’s worse is that said babies have, for some reason, been left in Takeru’s care. And, judging from Takeru’s presence in his room, the babies have been left alone.

It takes no time at all for Aguni to throw on a pair of pants and slip into his boots. It takes even less time for him to grab Takeru by the collar of his robe and physically drag him down the hall, the other man switching between heartfelt thank-you’s and desperate pleas for Aguni to be gentle when handling the raw silk of his ensemble.

Now, to those of us on the outside of Aguni’s brain, it may seem like he hasn’t thought this through; that he has tunnel-vision’d his way through the last two paragraphs without a logical thought as to how and why ‘babies’ may be present. That is simply not true. Aguni has considered that ‘babies’ could actually mean a number of things aside from ‘human infants’ and has thus compiled a short list of the three most likely candidates:

The spider plant he had placed on Takeru’s windowsill has propagated—or, as some would call it, ‘had babies.’ This is Aguni’s favorite option of the bunch. It is also the least likely.

Something about the cards. Although Aguni has never Takeru refer to them as ‘his babies,’ it is no secret that he is very protective of his prized collection. Seeing as this may or may not affect the entire Beach, it’s important for him to be aware of the situation.

Takeru is high as a goddamn kite and hallucinating. This is, unfortunately, the most likely scenario.

It is also important to mention that Aguni has taken a good look at his life and his choices throughout this ordeal, particularly when Takeru commented on the state of his biceps and made an off-color insinuation about the right one looking slightly more defined than the left—and then asked if he would like to discuss his love life, with an exaggerated raise of his eyebrows. Aguni chose not to comment. He also chose to push Takeru into the doorframe on the way into his suite, and took a smidge of pleasure when his head collided with the wood with a satisfying clunk-ing sound.

“Look,” Takeru says proudly, pointing a finger at the bed, “babies!”

Nestled in what a bulging nest of fluffy white blankets are...things. Fuzzy things. One big fuzzy thing, with sleepy eyes and what looks to be a long spotted tail wrapped around one, two, three tiny fuzzy things. When Aguni leans in to get a closer look, the big one quirks a corn-chip-shaped ear and gives him a wary glare.

“What,” Aguni asks, “in the goddamn—“

But before Aguni is able to finish his sentence, Takeru is giving him a stinging slap on the arm.

“Aguni Morizono,” he hisses, hands balled into fists and perched on his hips like a mother hen, “I will not have my children exposed to that kind of language.”

There are plenty of things wrong with what Takeru just said, but Aguni is having trouble getting past the idea that these...creatures have somehow been claimed by his very silly friend.

“Think about it,” Takeru continues, swanning his way past a very confused (and tired) Aguni to sit on the edge of the bed just behind the brood of fluffy individuals, “This lovely lady could have given birth on anyone’s bed...but she chose mine.  Why do you think that is?”

“Because you leave the sheets all balled up in the middle and it’s the perfect place for an animal to make a nest?”

“Wrong, but I like how confident you sounded when you said it!”

With his hands pressed together and held in front of his lips, Takeru looks almost prayerful as he very seriously explains his theory.

“A woman alone-- heavily pregnant, scared, and lost in these cold and cruel Borderlands.  Her thoughts shift to her young.  Who will keep them safe?  Who will help take care of them?  That’s when her instincts took over,” Takeru opens his arms, the silken cuffs of his robe pooling around his elbows, “and, using her superior sense of smell, followed her nose to the den of the nearest alpha male for protection.”

Aguni wishes he could say that this is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. He also wishes he had a cup of coffee (with a healthy glug of Bailey’s in there for good measure) before this whole event took place.

Takeru has since busied himself with the tiny new mother and her young, watching with gentle fascination as the newborns snuffle and snooze against her with unopened eyes and clumsy paws. When he reaches out a ring-bedecked hand to stroke along the bigger one’s head, she gives him a small growl and a pointed glare—to which he laughs and withdraws his touch, saying something cheeky about “the last time she let a man get too close” and quickly following it up with a promise to talk about it “after the kids are asleep.”

Takeru has just held up his hand for a high-five (which Aguni has decided to not reciprocate) when they hear a crash and then a bang and then the thundering thumpthumpthump of angry booted footsteps rapidly approaching their position in the bedroom. For some reason—a reason he’s not very keen to dwell upon at the current moment—Aguni instantly snaps into defense mode, hands curling into fists and shoulders squaring themselves in anticipation of a coming attack.

“WHERE. IS. TERMINATOR!?”

Niragi bursts into the room like a firework, all noise and flash and fire in his eyes. His knuckles strain around the dark of his rifle, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Of course, Aguni knows (hopes) he won’t actually resort to filling Takeru full of bullets, but he keeps a close eye on his trigger finger, anyways.

“Ah! There’s my co-parent,” Hatter says with a measure of glee, gesturing with a flourish of his hand towards the cute, hairy pile on his bed, “As you can see, our lovely Terminator is doing very well and—“

“Our? She’s not fucking ours, she’s fucking mine,” Niragi snaps, “and I’m gonna fucking kill you for stealing my cat.”

“Not a cat,” a calm voice says, and Aguni turns to see Last Boss lurking in the doorway, katana sheathed and arms crossed, “She’s a common genet, native to the savanna’s of Africa.”

“Ooh, does that mean the babies have dual citizenship? No, wait,” Hatter claps his hands together with glee, “triple citizenship? Africa, Japan, and the Borderlands?!”

“Africa’s not a country, it’s a continent, dumbass,” Niragi retorts, “and I think we have bigger problems than what’s going to be on their fucking passports.”

It’s probably not the best thing in the world for Aguni to let Takeru and Niragi descend into heated bickering—a back-and-forth of ‘you stole her’ versus ‘no, she chose me’—but Aguni is simply not interested in breaking up their squabbling. Instead he goes to stand by Last Boss, who’s watching the two long-haired men argue like it’s a mildly interesting tennis match.

“So,” Aguni says, “you, uh, seem to know a lot about those things.”

“I did my research when Niragi first brought her back,” Last Boss says calmly, “He’s good with her, but I wanted to make sure we were taking care of her correctly.”

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“I had my suspicions. Niragi wouldn’t listen, though. Kept telling me she was just fat.”

“Yeah, I thought she was ‘just fat,’” Niragi interjects, his gun no longer pointed at Takeru but a murderous gleam still in his eye, “because this fucking asshole kept feeding her potato chips!”

“Because she loves them,” Takeru shouts back, throwing his arms up in the air, “So shoot me for being a nice guy and sharing my snacks with your weird cat!”

“Don’t,” both Last Boss and Aguni say in unison—which is very uncomfortable for the both of them, but at least it has the desired effect of keeping Niragi from blasting a few dozen holes through Takeru’s person.

With the two of them quickly getting back into their heated back-and-forth, Aguni turns his attention to the creatures on the bed. Somehow, despite all of the noise and excitement, the mother and her babies have curled up and fallen asleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of their bellies a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around them. Aguni feels jealous, but also, feels bad about feeling jealous because this...Terminator thing has undoubtedly had a rough night, too.

“Luckily,” Last Boss says, “genets are pretty independent creatures. She’ll be fine to take care of the kits on her own, provided that she has access to food and water.”

“So we should just...leave her alone?”

Last Boss shrugs.

“More or less.”

Aguni sighs internally. He sighs externally, too, but the internal sigh is the one that really sums up his thoughts on the whole situation. Just getting one of those hot-headed men to leave those poor animals alone is challenging enough, but both of them? That’s bordering on ‘damn near impossible.’

But, for the sake of those weird fuzzy babies, he has to try.

Takeru jumps when he feels Aguni’s hand on his elbow. He also manages to shut up for a moment, which is a nice bonus. Last Boss has also sprung into action and seems to be talking to Niragi in hushed tones, a hesitant but friendly hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon,” Aguni says, gentle-firm as he guides Takeru into a standing position—much to the other man’s confusion.

“Mori, what—?”

“You’ve had a big night. I’ve had a big night. But do you know whose had the biggest night of us all?” Aguni gestures to the snoozing creatures in front of them, “Terminator. She’s exhausted, and the last thing she needs is the four of us keeping her up. You can stay with me tonight, and we’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”

“But,” Takeru protests—an iota quieter, now that he’s realized that the pipe on the bed is now a sleeping pile, “we can’t just leave them alone, can we?”

“You’re right. Which is why,” Aguni says, “Last Boss is going to stay with her and keep an eye on things. If he’s okay with that, of course?”

Last Boss offers a solemn nod. Aguni makes a mental note to thank him for this later—maybe he’ll let him pick the music on their next supply run (provided it’s from Aguni’s list of pre-approved artists, of course...)

“You know what? Fucking fine,” Niragi spits, flicking his hair back with a quick jerk of his hand, “it’s too goddamn late to deal with you fucking losers, anyways. I’ll come back to collect my cat and her kittens in the morning.”

Aguni does not risk correcting Niragi on his incorrect terminology regarding his pets—frankly, he’s a little too busy being amazed at how suspiciously easy it was to get him to leave. With a sharp pivot, Niragi is exiting the room in what could be called a ‘brisk saunter,’ no doubt wanting to put as much distance between himself and whatever-the-hell just happened in this room as possible.

Aguni, for once, can relate to Niragi quite well.

With Last Boss keeping vigil over the new little family, Aguni is able to wrangle Takeru away from his room with minimal fuss. It’s probably because the man is very tired—despite multiple claims that he ‘isn’t sleepy yet’ and ‘can stay up for hours.’ This theory is proven when, within a grand total of seven seconds of Takeru flopping face-first onto the middle of Aguni’s bed, he’s managed to slip into what only can be described as a ‘light coma.’

Aguni manages to wrestle a stray pillow away from his sleeping friend’s grasp (he’s a notoriously cuddly sleeper, which has led to some...interesting situations over the course of their friendship) and settles his weary self onto the couch. It’s not quite long enough to accommodate his height, but it’s good enough for what will most likely end up being an extended nap before the sun comes up and he needs to solve whatever other issues have popped up at the Beach overnight.

...But, at least those problems won’t involve babies.

Probably.

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Also here is a common genet and DAMN SIS U CUTE AS HELL

#alice in borderland #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #aguni morizono #niragi suguru #last boss #writings and such

[maybeimamuppet]

just a farewell

It’s very hot.

It’s the middle of July, and Janis is boiling even with her window open and a fan running full blast. She’s always hated summer. Cady, on the other hand, doesn’t seem bothered by the heat.

She does, however, seem very bothered by the other thing that the middle of July is bringing them. Janis is leaving for college in New York, and Cady is staying for her own in Illinois.

In September, when they first started applying for colleges, they weren’t even together. They were crushing hard on each other, but not dating. They didn’t even know what schools the other had applied to. By the time they started hearing things back, it was February and they had finally started dating.

They’d had a long discussion about how much they wanted their relationship to affect their decisions. They’d come to the mutual but rather upsetting agreement that, no matter how much they loathe the idea, there’s always a chance their relationship won’t last forever. Their educations would, and they both deserve the one that would be best for them.

So, Janis decided on an arts school in New York. Damian had actually chosen the same one, so they decided to rent an apartment in the city together. Damian is a performing arts major, and Janis decided to study art history and drawing, wanting to leave painting as her sacred art medium.

Cady’s application process was rather more involved, since she had been homeschooled for all but two years and her parents had never done any kind of credit system. She’d had to take placement exams instead of basing things off of her transcript. She’d chosen to go to the University of Illinois, and had managed to get herself in as a junior in credits as a mathematics major. Regina is majoring in psychology there as well, and they had recently learned they’re going to be roommates.

“I’m gonna take this down,” Cady says quietly as she grabs a box by the door, sneakily before it can be taped shut.

“Sure thing, Peanut. Thanks,” Janis says as she folds another shirt for the box she’s packing.

Cady carries her box down the stairs and out to Janis’ truck. She had snuck her Mathletes jacket over and hidden it from Janis. Cady tucks it safely in the box with a little love note and tapes it shut, then slides the box into the back of Janis’ truck bed. She can live without it for a few months.

-

Janis is worried.

Cady has been acting oddly all month. She barely speaks, and when she does her voice is soft and monotone. She’s been extra clingy, always needing some form of physical contact with Janis whenever they’re together and seeming to panic slightly when she’s not able to. And, Cady’s been having more nightmares, regularly waking up either screaming or sobbing in Janis’ arms.

But the worst part by far, the part that worries Janis the most: Cady hasn’t smiled in almost a week. No matter what Janis does, she won’t smile. Janis does understand. She’s dreading the idea of leaving her girlfriend, but she’s still worried about her.

She pushes the last box containing her bedsheets over by the door to be carried down later and flops down on her bare mattress. Cady comes back and scoots in next to her. It’s too hot to cuddle no matter how badly they both want to, so Cady settles for hooking their pinkies together.

“Hi, Kitkat,” Janis says, turning onto her side to see her.

“Hi.” Cady replies in a voice so sad that Janis wants to unpack everything and stay behind.

“What’s wrong?” Janis asks sadly. Cady turns to look at her as well, heaving a sigh as she does. Janis runs a hand through Cady’s newly chin-length curls. “You haven’t smiled in so long. What’s the matter?”

“You’re leaving,” Cady says quietly.

“I gathered that,” Janis chuckles weakly. “I get it. I don’t want to leave you either. But I’m worried about you. You barely even speak anymore, and you keep waking up crying. I miss your smile.”

“It’s stupid,” Cady mumbles. Janis sees her eyes watering and switches their grip to hold her whole hand, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Baby, no it’s not,” she chides. “If you’re this upset, nothing could be stupid. Just tell me what’s wrong, I don’t want to leave knowing you’re this sad.”

Cady takes a deep breath and inches herself a bit closer. “I’m... I’m scared,” she chokes. “When-when Aaron left for his school we didn’t even make it two months. I thought I was so in love with him, and then it all ended. And with Rhys, he left and he... he never came back. I’m scared I’ll never see you again.”

She dissolves into broken sobs by the time she finishes. Janis gives up on trying to keep cool and pulls her into a tight cuddle, desperately hushing her and trying to comfort her as best she can. She supposes she should have known Cady would have some sort of issue with abandonment. Two of the people she loved most in the world left her. One broke up with her and the other died. It all makes a bit more sense now.

“Oh, baby,” Janis hushes. “It’s not like that for us. Aaron was so far away, and you weren’t with him nearly as long. And Butterfly, Rhys was going to war when he had to leave you. I’m going to New York, I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” Cady sobs. “New York is dangerous! What if you get mugged?”

“If I get mugged then you’ll be the first to know since you’ll have to bail me out of jail for killing whoever tried me,” Janis says. “I know how to defend myself. I have pepper spray and a knife, and my mom made me take all those self defense classes with her, remember? I’m gonna be safe. Our apartment is in a good neighborhood and I’m not gonna go anywhere alone.”

Cady knows she’s being slightly irrational. Nobody would mess with Janis after looking twice at her, but she’s still scared. “What if you meet someone else? And like them more than me?”

Janis rolls over and pulls Cady to lie on top of her. “I don’t think that’s possible, Peanut. I love you so much. I’m more worried about you meeting some hot math dork and ditching me. Someone with, like, elbow patches on a turtleneck, you know?”

Cady doesn’t quite laugh, but Janis feels the slightest hint of a grin against her neck. Progress is progress. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, no, you don’t need to be sorry. I’m... devastated, I don’t want to leave you here,” Janis says, choking back her own tears. “But we’re gonna be okay.”

Cady nods against her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Butterfly. Come on, I have an idea,” Janis says, prying her girlfriend off her lap gently and tugging on the pair of shoes she left unpacked to wear on her drive to New York.

“Oh god,” Cady groans as she hauls herself upright and wipes the tears from her face. Janis’ ideas tend to be a little out there. Her last one involved stealing Damian’s old trombone and using it to piss off a bunch of local cows. She’d nearly gotten herself trampled and the trombone had not survived the incident.

“Not like the cows. Or the chickens,” Janis says quickly. “This one’s safe, I promise. Come on.”

Cady inches her feet back into her flip flops and takes Janis’ hand, following her to her mom’s car since her truck is full of all her stuff. Janis has truly mastered the art of driving one handed now, since Cady always asks to hold one.

Cady is confused when they pull up to a convenience store, but follows Janis in anyway. She’s even more confused when Janis makes a beeline for the stationary section, since they usually only stop by for snacks.

Janis looks carefully at all the calendars, before she grabs one with pictures of kittens for each month. “Pick one for me to have.” Cady looks too, picking one with different famous paintings for each month.  “Perfect.”

Janis takes both and heads to check out, leading a puzzled Cady behind her. Why are they buying calendars they can only use for a few more months?

“Do you want to go get frozen yogurt, baby?” Janis asks once they’re in the car again. Cady nods happily, excited at the idea of her favorite treat. Finally got her to smile.

—————-

Cady insists on paying for their yogurt, since she knows hers will be very expensive. She’s piled loads of popping boba, gummy worms, strawberries, and Oreos on top of her watermelon flavored frozen yogurt. Janis kept it simple with salted caramel yogurt topped with mini M&Ms.

Janis finds a bench nearby with an umbrella so they’re not in the sun. Cady sits and pulls Janis into her lap, resting her head on Janis’ shoulder as they both dig in.

“Do you want to try some of mine?” Cady asks after a few minutes, offering a spoonful to her girlfriend.

“Are you just offering because you want some of mine and you’re trying to make it fair?” Janis asks knowingly, but does take the offered bite.

“No,” Cady says sheepishly. “I’m just trying to be a good girlfriend.”

Janis chuckles around the strange mess of flavors in her mouth. “You don’t have to try to do that, Peanut. Here.” She offers Cady a bite of her own.

“Yours is good,” Cady says, finishing off her own. She winces a little at the tart flavor of the watermelon immediately after the sweetness of the caramel.

“Wanna taste it again?” Janis asks as she takes the last bite of her own.

“But you finished it,” Cady says in confusion.

“And?” Janis purrs, leaning in to kiss her and flicking her tongue against the seam of her lips. Cady gasps in understanding, so Janis takes the opportunity to brush their tongues together. After a few minutes, she breaks away. “Tastes even better this way.”

“You’re so smooth,” Cady jokes. “And sweaty, get off.”

Janis laughs and stands up, offering a hand to help Cady back up. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jay.” Cady says. The sadness is starting to come back.

“Come on, let’s go do my idea.”

————-

A few minutes later they’re back at Janis’ house, sitting on the bare floor of her bedroom. “What is this idea?”

Janis pulls out the calendars and her mom’s fancy felt-tip pens in all sorts of fun colors. She hands the paintings one to Cady and keeps the kitten one in front of her.

“You do better with visual reminders of stuff, right?” Janis asks as she picks out a dark yellow pen. Cady nods. “So, we’ll go through these and mark off when everything starts and when our breaks are, and when we’ll call each other. Then you can count off all the days until we’re together again.”

“Oh,” Cady says. “That is good.”

“I told you,” Janis teases, poking her knee with her foot. “Are you thinking of joining any clubs or anything that would meet on Saturday nights?”

“I don’t think so,” Cady says confusedly. “Why?”

“We could have video dates those days. My art club only meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I’d be free if you are,” Janis says. “We’ll still call and stuff during the week, obviously, but I think it would be good to have something scheduled.”

“That sounds good too,” Cady says. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“I try really hard,” Janis jokes, marking off every Saturday for the remaining weeks of July, along with all of August, September, and October. Janis had already made the tough decision not to come back during her fall break, so they wouldn’t be able to see each other until Thanksgiving.

Cady does the same to hers. “Now what?”

“Look up when your fall break is and mark that, and do Thanksgiving too. We’ll do something fun over Facetime on my fall break since I can’t come back,” Janis says. “And then when I’m back for Thanksgiving we’ll do this again for the next semester.”

Cady marks off her first day of classes, her fall break in October, and the start of her Thanksgiving break. Janis does the same, and makes a special mark on the day she’s flying home for Thanksgiving in November.

Cady adds cute little doodles on random days, with random ‘I love you’ reminders scattered throughout as well. Just to make Janis smile. Once they finish marking everything, they switch calendars. Janis tucks hers safely into the backpack she would be bringing on her road trip.

Cady reaches for her once they finish. Janis is leaving in just a few hours, she wants to squeeze in as many cuddles as she can before she has to go. Janis obliges, cuddling into her side and burying her face into her neck. Cady turns to face her and nuzzles her nose into her hair.

They cling to one another desperately until they both get too hot and uncomfortable to continue. Janis inches back and holds her hand instead, checking the time on her phone with the other.

“We should get to Damian’s soon,” she says quietly. “We need time to load up all of his stuff too.”

Cady pouts. Janis and Damian would be leaving directly from his house. She’d get her last kisses, hugs, and cuddles for several months there. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Janis switches out her keys, grabbing the ones for her truck and leaving the ones for her mom’s car behind. Her mom and sister would meet them at Damian’s house later to see them off, but she takes a second to look wistfully around at the house itself.

Cady clings to her hand as they walk through the yard, and snatches it back as soon as Janis gets into the driver’s seat. The smiles and getting her voice back seems to have been a temporary thing. Quiet Cady is back now, playing sadly with Janis’ rings.

-

Janis has a key to Damian’s house and can tell by the lack of car in the driveway that his mom isn’t home, so she unlocks it and throws the door open with a loud, “What’s up, fuckers?!”

Pippa, who was waiting behind the door at the sound of a key, scrambles to run to her owner in the living room for protection. Janis and Cady follow, Cady shaking her head in exasperation.

Pippa gets very excited when she sees Cady and runs back over, popping up on her hind legs to show she wants attention. Cady can barely smile even at the adorable antics of the puppy, but does bend down to pet her like always.

She carries Pippa down the hall to Damian’s bedroom, following her girlfriend and best friend. Damian has everything packed already, they just need to get the boxes into Janis’ truck.

Cady’s glad that Janis and Damian are going to the same place. As hard as it is for Janis to leave Cady, she knows having to leave Damian would have been much harder for her. She’s glad Janis and Damian have always had each other to lean on, and still get to be together.

Eventually the puppy cuddles have to take a temporary break, so she rests Pippa on Damian’s bed and grabs a box to carry out.

With the three of them working, the boxes are all where they need to be pretty quickly. Now they have about two and a half hours to kill before Janis and Damian have to hit the road.

“Should we have one last movie night?” Damian asks. Cady almost bursts into tears then, she had forgotten she’d be losing him for a while too. She nods, knowing that if she tries to speak she’s going to be completely inconsolable for the next several hours.

She sits in between both of them, trying to focus on Lilo and Stitch instead of the coming events. It just about works.

Unfortunately, the movie has to come to an end, along with their time together. Nobody speaks, but they all squish a little bit closer together.

“I love you guys,” Cady whispers, finally prompting the tears from all of them. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“We’re gonna miss you too, Little Slice,” Damian says.

Janis doesn’t say anything, just leans her head onto her girlfriend’s shoulder. She stays there for a second before she seems to remember something and leaves.

“Where are you going?” Cady asks through her tears.

“I have something for you, hold on,” Janis replies through her own. Cady cuddles more with Damian while she’s gone.

Janis comes back carrying a strangely shaped... something. “Here.”

Cady takes it and nearly drops it on her toes. “What is it?”

“It’s a weighted thing, I made it from one of my jackets,” Janis sniffs. “To help you when you get overloaded. Or just when you want cuddles.”

Upon closer inspection, it is made out of one of Janis’ decorated jackets. “This was your favorite one, why would you do that?”

“It had a rip in it anyway, there was no way I could get it back,” Janis says.

Cady squeezes it close. It smells like Janis, and her girlfriend left the sleeves on and filled them with whatever she used to weigh the body down, to simulate a hug. “I love it. Thank you, Jayjay.”

“Of course,” Janis says quietly. Damian leaves then as well, and returns with his own signature blue jacket.

“Here, you can have this too,” he chokes. Cady takes it gratefully and hugs both her new gifts close.

“Thanks, D,” she says.

Janis and Damian’s families show up in the midst of a very long, tearful goodbye hug. It’s time to go.

Cady squeezes them quickly and lets them go to their families, knowing she’ll get one last chance to say goodbye before they actually have to go. The tears keep streaming down her face as she watches Janis and Juliana say their goodbyes. Janis’ mom even brought Pancakes, and that goodbye is even more sad.

Eventually, they all head out into the yard. Janis and Cady have a moment to themselves as Damian says goodbye to his mom and Janis’ family.

Cady throws herself at her girlfriend and refuses to let go as Janis picks her up. She locks her legs around her waist and arms around her neck as they both sob quietly into each other’s shoulders.

“I don’t want you to go,” Cady weeps quietly.

“I know,” Janis murmurs back. “I don’t want to go either.”

“I love you so much,” Cady sobs. “I’m so proud of you. You’re gonna do great.”

“So are you,” Janis says, resting her back on her feet and cupping her face. “I love you so much.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” Cady says, seemingly more to comfort herself than Janis. “You’ll come back.”

“Always. I’ll always come back to you. In November,” Janis chokes in response. “I promise.”

“Will you text me or call me when you’re not driving?” Cady asks, cuddling into her shoulder again.

“Of course,” Janis sniffs. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Okay,” Cady sobs in reply. “This is the worst, I hate goodbyes.”

“I know, I hate this too,” Janis sobs. “Come here.”

They both lean in for a kiss, trying to convey all their love and sorrow through it. Their tears mingle on their cheeks, and they can both taste the salt on one another’s lips. Every once in a while one pulls back to choke out another sob, but the other pulls them back in quickly.

Eventually they do have to break apart to breathe again. Cady murmurs ‘I love you’ in every language she knows. Damian calls Janis over then, they really do have to get going.

“I love you, Bluejay,” Cady says, kissing her one last time.

“I love you too, Butterfly,” Janis says back. “Good-“

“No. Don’t-don’t say that,” Cady insists. “This time it really isn’t a goodbye. You’re coming back. This is a farewell.”

“Okay. Farewell, Cady Heron,” Janis says as she climbs into the passenger side. She and Damian had decided that he would drive first. Janis knew she would probably be crying too hard to drive safely.

“Farewell, Janis Sarkisian,” Cady says, kissing her cheek through the window before she steps back to stand by their families.

Juliana clings to Cady as Damian and Janis drive off. Cady clings to her just as tightly, both of them crying into each other. Everyone waves at the truck until it’s out of sight.

-

Cady spends the rest of the day with their families, wanting their company to distract herself from her feelings. She plays Just Dance and a few card games with Juliana to keep them both busy.

A few hours after they’ve left, Cady’s phone pings with a text from Janis. It’s a very blurry picture of the sign marking the border to Indiana.

“Is that them?” Julie asks.

“Mmhmm. They’re in Indiana now,” Cady says, turning the phone so she can see the picture. “Janis says she’s taking over driving, but she’ll let us know when they stop again.”

“How far away is your school?” Julie asks quietly.

“Only about two hours, it’s in Champaign,” Cady answers, replying to Janis’ message before she deals a new hand for their game. “Why?”

“You can come back more often,” Julie says. “I don’t want to be alone, now that Janny’s gone.”

Cady almost starts crying again. “Of course. Your mom got you a phone, right?”

“Uhhuh,” Julie says, digging into her pocket and pulling it out. Cady takes it and enters her contact information.

“There. If something happens or you get lonely just tell me and I’ll come back,” Cady promises. “Do you have Janis and Damian’s numbers too?”

Julie nods. “Thanks, Cady.”

Cady grins at her. “No problem, kiddo.”

————-

Cady stays with their families until sunset, when her parents tell her she needs to come home. Janis has continually texted her throughout the day, sending pictures of cute birds she finds at rest stops or strange things she sees out the windows.

Cady is about to turn in for the night when her phone pings one last time.

bluejay: caddy caddy

butterfly: What what?

bluejay: oh we made it to my family’s place btw we’re about halfway thru ohio

bluejay: but vera and her friends took us around to see stuff and there’s a massive field of fucking concrete corn

butterfly: What?

bluejay: Sent a picture: ive never been more afraid in my life

butterfly: That’s so weird, why couldn’t they just have actual corn there?

bluejay: i don’t know!!!! i’m scared i’m gonna get murked here but vera says ppl take prom pics with them and shit

butterfly: How tall are they?

bluejay: i think they’re about six feet they’re not that much taller than me

butterfly: Huh. How weird.

bluejay: ikr

bluejay: what are you up to babes ?

butterfly: Sent a picture: Sleepy 📷️

bluejay: aww. i miss you so much already baby

butterfly: I miss you so much, love. I have my cuddle thing you made me and I just crossed off my calendar for the day 📷📷

bluejay: oh i’ll go do that once vera finds her gfs

bluejay: goodnight peanut i love you

butterfly: Goodnight, Jayjay, I love you too

Cady shuts off her phone and plugs it in, turning onto her side and staring at the calendar she pinned to the wall. She tries to look at the cute kittens in party hats and not the word ‘JULY’ in large letters, taunting her just below it. She buries her face into the cushion, inhaling Janis’ lingering scent, and gently cries herself to sleep.

————-

Very late the next evening, she gets a text from Janis letting her know they’ve made it safely to their apartment in New York, and they’re going to get to work unpacking everything the next morning.

With the new time difference, Janis is an hour ahead of her, so they wake up at roughly the same time, now. Janis texts her around ten Cady’s time to ask if she wants to Facetime while she gets started unpacking.

Cady, obviously, agrees immediately. A call from Janis comes through, and Cady hits the green button to accept it.

“Hey, love,” she greets. “How’s the big apple?”

“Big,” Janis responds. “Here, look.” Cady can see her shuffle out of her new bed and over to the window, and then the camera flips around to show off Janis’ view.

“Wow,” Cady says. “That’s beautiful.”

“I think my view is more beautiful,” Janis flirts. “I miss you.”

“I miss you,” Cady responds sadly. “But hey, we’re already two and a half days down until we’re back together!”

“Look at you, little miss optimist,” Janis chuckles. “What are you up to?”

“Art, kind of, actually,” Cady says happily. “I got all my stuff for school yesterday, I’m decorating my notebooks.”

“Lemme see,” Janis says excitedly, sitting on her floor and opening a box. Cady flips around her own camera to show the lion she’s painting onto the cover of her yellow notebook. “Cute! I like it.”

They continue to chat lightly as they both work, and it almost feels like they’re back together again. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Cady hears a quiet gasp as Janis opens another box.

“Baby,” she says quietly. “You gave me your jacket?”

“Yeah,” Cady says shyly. “I wanted you to have something physical of mine. Turns out we had similar ideas.” She watches Janis read the little note she hid inside and the smile grow on her face.

“Thank you, Butterfly,” Janis says. She wraps the soft blue and yellow fabric around her shoulders and continues unpacking the rest of her clothes.

“You’re welcome, Bluejay,” Cady replies. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Peanut,” Janis says.

—————

About a month later, Cady is officially moved into her dorm and ready for her first day of classes. Janis doesn’t start her own until Wednesday, so she still has time to get everything ready.

On Monday morning, Cady wakes up to a text from her girlfriend. It’s eight in the morning her time, so Janis must have woken up extra early just to say hi.

bluejay: good luck at class butterfly. have a great first day 📷📷

butterfly: Thanks, Jellybean. I love you 📷️📷️

bluejay: i love you more. tell me all about it when you get back go be smart

Cady sends back a thumbs up and kissy emoji, then shuts her phone off and heads down to the bathrooms to get ready.

-

On Wednesday, she does the same for Janis. Janis’ classes are all in the afternoon, but Cady sends her a sweet text at around eleven to wish her luck.

butterfly: Good luck today, my love. You’re gonna do brilliant things and I can’t wait to see them 📷

Janis sends back a picture of her making a peace sign but with her eyes brimming with tears. Cady replies to that with a picture of her making a kissy face and an apology for making her cry, and they text back and forth while Janis gets ready and Cady has her lunch.

-

On Saturday, they have their first date over video chat. Cady puts on a nicer outfit even though she’s just sitting at her desk in her dorm. Regina is away at a party for the night, so she’s got privacy to talk to her love.

At the agreed time (which Cady had spent a very long time confirming Janis knew, even with the time difference), she opens her laptop and brings up Facetime, shuffling her short hair as she sends the call through. Her eyebrows shoot up as her girlfriend comes into view. The formerly blonde ends of her hair are…

“Blue! I mean, hi!” She says, pointing to the screen before she remembers that Janis can’t see what she’s pointing to.

Janis laughs at her reaction. “Hey, Peanut. I got bored and bought a bunch of colors of temporary dye, Damian helped me do it. What do you think?”

“It looks really good,” Cady says. Janis notices her brow furrowing and her lips going into a thin line.

“You wanna touch it, don’t you?” She asks. Cady nods crankily. “Soon. I’ll dye it blue again when I come back.”

“How long does it last?” Cady asks. “It really suits you.”

“Only about a week, it’s kind of like paint. I’m glad you like it,” Janis replies. “Anyway, how was your first week?”

“Good! My classes are actually a bit easier than I was expecting,” Cady chirps happily. “And my professors are really nice. It’s just kind of hard to remember where everything is, still. How has yours been?”

“Not bad,” Janis shrugs. “School is fine, but I miss you. Damian and I have been walking around to get used to the city, and I keep finding places you’d love and then I remember you’re so far away and I can’t actually take you there.”

Cady frowns. “Maybe I’ll have to come to you a few times, then you can show me around.”

Janis grins back. “Yeah, that would be great. Honestly, I think you’d really like it in the city. It’s big and kind of overwhelming, but once you’re used to it it’s just like you’re in your own little pocket. And then you travel to other pockets.”

“It does sound fun,” Cady giggles. “Has your art club started yet?”

“No, it’s not ‘til next week,” Janis says. “But a bunch of people in it are in my classes too, so I got to meet some of them. They all seem chill, I’m excited.”

“Good,” Cady smiles. “I’m glad.”

“How’s having Reginald for a roommate been treating you?” Janis asks. “I see a lot of pink already.”

“Yeah, trying to mesh us is a little tricky,” Cady giggles. “A lot of pink and then a lot of my tribal patterns from Africa. But really, she’s actually been a good roommate so far. She doesn’t even complain about my nightlight thingy you got me.”

“Good,” Janis grins. “God, I miss you so much. I want snuggles.”

“I miss you too,” Cady says. “But it’s August now! We made it a whole month already, now we just have… a few more to get through.”

“I’m really glad you’re an optimist, babe,” Janis chuckles. “I love you.”

Cady leans in to kiss her laptop camera, and once Janis catches on she does the same. “I love you too.”

————-

In October, Cady makes special plans for Janis’ birthday. She switched her location to the city to order some sushi for Janis’ dinner to their apartment, and sent a bit of money to Damian for streamers. It’s a Thursday, so Janis has her art club and won’t be home until late.

She gets to talk to Damian while he sets everything up, happy to catch up with her best friend. He’s just blowing up the final balloon when Janis enters. Cady quickly dons the party hat she purchased and grabs her party popper.

“Aww, Dame,” Janis says happily, not having noticed Cady on the screen yet. “Cute.”

“Wasn’t me,” Damian shrugs, slightly out of breath from blowing up all the balloons himself.

“You’re the only one here,” Janis says confusedly. “Ooh, sushi, yay!”

“That definitely wasn’t me,” Damian says. “For fucks sake, get over here.”

“What?” Janis asks around a mouthful of salmon maki roll, coming to sit by him on their crappy little couch. “Oh!”

Cady pulls the string on her party popper, making a louder bang than she was expecting and causing her to yelp as the confetti all rains down on her. “Happy birthday, love!”

Janis laughs. “Thanks, Peanut! Did you do all this?”

“Uhhuh! I hope that sushi place is good, it had the best reviews,” Cady says. “Thanks for the help, D.”

“Anytime,” Damian says. “Cads, do you have your stuff?”

“Yep!” Cady chirps, grabbing her favorite blanket and a bowl of popcorn, climbing up to her top bunk in her bed.

“What’s going on?” Janis asks in confusion, around yet another mouthful of sushi.

“We’re having a movie night! Damian and I figured out how to do it,” Cady says happily. “You get to pick the movie, birthday girl.”

“Can I pick a horror movie?” Janis asks. It’s already a bit late, and Cady typically needs a minimum of one happy movie after any scary one to be able to sleep. Janis usually has to cuddle her, too, but she can’t exactly do that from a different state.

“Sure,” Cady replies anxiously. Maybe Regina will let her sleep in her bunk. Almost definitely not, but maybe. “I’ll deal with it.”

“Compromise, I wanna watch Coraline,” Janis says. “That’s… almost a horror movie but not quite.”

“Okay,” Damian chuckles. He pulls it up and shares the screen with Cady. It’s nowhere near as good as their real movie nights, but it’s better than nothing. They still get to stay up way too late on a school night and eat more popcorn than should ever be consumed in one sitting.

Cady is thoroughly spooked by the time they all have to hang up, but Regina offers a mug of her favorite calming tea to help her sleep and begrudgingly agrees to tuck her in. Cady drifts off clinging to her homemade cuddle buddy and wrapped tightly in her blankets.

————-

Two weeks before Thanksgiving, Cady gets a very late night text from Janis.

bluejay: peanut

bluejay: i’m really sorry

Cady instantly replies, trying not to panic.

butterfly: What’s the matter?

bluejay: i can’t come home for thanksgiving

bluejay: the airline just canceled our tickets out of nowhere and they don’t have any other replacements. everywhere else is booked too

butterfly: No

butterfly: You said Thanksgiving. You have to come back

bluejay: i know

bluejay: i can’t change it i’m sorry. dame and i looked everywhere

butterfly: Look again

butterfly: Please Jay

bluejay: okay i’ll check one more time

Janis checks every single airline for any available ticket. Everywhere is booked until after her break.

bluejay: i’m sorry baby there’s literally nothing

bluejay: i miss you so much i want to come back and see you

bluejay: baby ??

Cady’s been crying too hard to see her keyboard.

butterfly: You promosed

Cady never makes typos. Janis brings up her contact and calls her immediately, frowning when Cady declines.

bluejay: baby please

bluejay: i don’t have any control over this

bluejay: you know i’d walk back if i could

bluejay: baby please at least answer me

Janis suddenly gets a text from Regina, of all people.

reginald: What the hell have you done?

reginald: Cady’s, like, losing it. I think she’s having a shutdown.

snarkisian: my flight home got cancelled

snarkisian: is she okay ??? she won’t answer me

reginald: I think she’s too upset to notice you’re trying to get ahold of her. She’s crying really hard. And she won’t come out from under her blanket.

snarkisian: god caddy

snarkisian: can you ask her quietly if she’d be able to talk to me if you answered the phone ?? she’s probably too upset to move but i might be able to help her calm down

reginald: She said yes. Or nodded, at least. I would help but I don’t know what to do, I’ve never seen her like this.

snarkisian: i haven’t either but she told me what helps her. i’ve only seen her have a meltdown

snarkisian: just watch what i do ig

She pulls up Cady’s contact again, and this time there’s an answer. It’s Regina’s concerned face, but she quickly sticks the phone into Cady’s little blanket cave so Janis can see her instead.

“Hey, Butterfly,” Janis says sadly when she sees Cady’s face. She’s stimming aggressively but very slowly, and even in the darkness Janis can see the tear tracks on her face. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I want to come back. So bad, I miss you. I want to hold you and kiss you and never let go.”

Cady sobs a few times, hard. She gasps for breath in between each. Janis notices she’s getting more upset and stimming harder, wringing her hands back and forth. Her skin is turning white with each twist.

“Do you have your weighted blanket?” Janis asks. Cady manages to shake her head. “Would it help?” She nods. “Okay. Reggie?”

“Yeah?” Regina calls from outside their little cocoon.

“There should be a weighted blanket wherever she keeps her clothes. It’s blue and has little flowers on it, can you give that to her?” Janis asks. Cady flinches at the volume of their voices and covers her ears.

“I’ll try,” Regina says. It might mean sleeping on a heating pad due to an aggravated back, but if it helps her friend, it’s worth it. Huh, maybe I really am a decent person now.

She finds a blanket that matches the description tucked in the bottom drawer of Cady’s dresser. With a good deal of effort, she hauls it out and hefts it up onto Cady’s bunk. Cady pokes her red, teary face out from her other blanket and grabs the weighted one, wrapping it around herself like a cloak. Janis can see her breathe a little sigh of relief at the pressure.

“Where’s your thing I made you?” Janis asks quietly again. Cady pokes an arm out to grab her cuddle buddy, resting it on her lap. The extra weight helps even more. “Deep breaths, Peanut.”

Cady nods and listens, taking some deep breaths in and out between her sobs. Regina helps by dimming the lights in their room and turning on Cady’s nightlight that paints colorful stars on the ceiling. Cady said that she just kind of has to wait shutdowns out, and that she almost never gets them anymore. Janis feels terrible that she caused one, even inadvertently.

She stays on the phone and Regina waits nearby anxiously until Cady sort of recovers nearly an hour later. She’s stopped crying and her stimming has picked up speed again.

“Are you okay, baby?” Janis asks quietly. Cady shakes her head. “I know. Are you feeling a little better, at least?” Cady nods. “Good. I’m so sorry, Butterfly.”

“‘S not your fault,” Cady chokes. “‘’M sorry.”

“No, Peanut, don’t be sorry,” Janis says. “I’m sorry this happened. Reggie, she has a calendar on her desk, can you grab that?”

Regina does, passing it and a pen to Cady in silence and climbing back into her own bed. She’s still within earshot, but she would very much like to go back to bed now that her roommate is okay.

Cady flips to November and aggressively scratches out the week of Thanksgiving. Stupid airlines.

“I’ll book my tickets home for Christmas now, you can mark those off instead,” Janis says. Cady watches her eyes shift as she browses the available flights home. “There. I’ll be back on the fifteenth.”

Janis actually booked a flight for the tenth. Her break is remarkably long, luckily for her. Maybe she’ll surprise Cady. She watches Cady take her pen and mark off December fifteenth with a sad grin.

“Okay. I love you,” Cady says quietly once it’s been done.

“I love you too, Peanut,” Janis says. She leans in for a camera kiss, and Cady does the same. “Call me every day of your break so we can still talk, okay? I can’t wait to see you.”

Cady nods slowly, lethargic from her shutdown. “It’s late, go to bed.”

“You go to bed,” Janis retaliates childishly.

“I’m in bed,” Cady replies, holding the phone to show her nest on her bunk.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” Janis groans with a chuckle. “Goodnight, Butterfly.”

“Night, love. Sleep well,” Cady says, nestling into bed and leaning in for one more camera kiss.

“You too,” Janis replies, returning it. One more month.

————-

The next morning, Janis texts Regina. Her help will be vital if she wants to make Cady’s surprise actually good.

snarkisian: reggieeeeeeeeeeeeeee

reginald: Christ. What do you want, Jan?

snarkisian: for u to stop using proper punctuation and capitalization in text first of all

snarkisian: but i lied to caddy i’m actually coming back on the tenth

snarkisian: can u help me surprise her ????

reginald: Lord, it never ends with you two.

snarkisian: stahp

snarkisian: just try. end ur next one without a period. i bet u can’t

reginald: I hate you

snarkisian: eyyy

reginald: Are we surprising your girlfriend or not?

snarkisian: oh yeah oops

snarkisian: all i should need is a way into ur dorm. i can get an uber there from the airport

reginald: I’ll pay for it. What time are you coming in?

snarkisian: OWO reggie being nice ???

snarkisian: i should land around one your time so i’ll be there a bit after that

reginald: I do actually care about you two, against my better judgement. I’ll come back between classes and let you in. Her last class that day ends at three.

snarkisian: tits thanks reggie

snarkisian: love u

reginald: Ugh.

Janis grins at her phone as Regina ends their conversation. She never thought she’d have banter like that with her again. Time to plan.

—————-

Janis writes out a note as she sits next to Damian on the plane. He fell asleep almost immediately after they took off, but Janis knows he’s also very excited to see Cady and their families.

Janis picks her pen back up and continues writing after a quick glance at his snoring face.

Dear Butterfly,

Hi, baby. I miss you so much, I can’t wait to see you again. I’ve missed holding you and getting all your kisses and cuddles. I miss trying to count your freckles and seeing your beautiful eyes up close. Cameras and jackets can only do so much, I guess.

I’ll be back before you know it and won’t have to let you go until January. I can’t wait. I’ll see you soon, Peanut.

Love, Jayjay

P.S. Turn around ;)

That should do it. A bit short, but it’ll get her message across well enough. She only has a couple more hours until she’s reunited with her love.

——————-

She bids Damian a farewell as they get their bags. He’s going directly back to Evanston, but Janis is sneakily staying in Cady and Regina’s room until their own break begins and then heading back with the two of them. They’re breaking a few campus rules, but nobody should have to know.

Regina meets her outside their dorm, which had taken Janis absolutely forever to find. She’d eventually had to stop and ask someone after Googling the name of it no fewer than seven times.

“Hey, art freak,” Regina greets, swiping her ID card to get into the building. Janis comes shuffling up in all her snow gear and lugging her suitcase behind her.

“Hey, Reginald,” Janis replies.

“Is that seriously still your contact name for me? You’ve had that since sixth grade,” Regina grumbles.

“You know it,” Janis says as they get into the rickety elevator. “I don’t like this.”

“It’s a little scary the first few times. You get used to it,” Regina shrugs. “Hasn’t fallen yet.”

“Oh, that fills me with so much confidence,” Janis grumbles under her breath.

“See? You survived,” Regina says. “This is it.” She pulls out a key and sticks it in the door, opening to a small room. Bunk beds, two desks, two dressers. That’s about it, but it’s been personalized with Cady and Regina’s own styles. It’s cute.

“Aww. Cute,” Janis grins. Cady has a bulletin board hung up over her desk, with her calendar and so many photos of all her friends and family pinned to it. The fifteenth has been decorated with several tiny hearts and exclamation points. Janis is also on the bulletin board most frequently, with Damian as a close second.

“Can I trust you alone here? I have a late class,” Regina says, grabbing her backpack and heading back towards the door. “Cady’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Yes, I can be trusted,” Janis groans. “Thanks, Reggie.”

“Stop calling me that!” Regina yells, already down the hall.

“Never!” Janis calls back. The door clicks shut after Regina, so Janis sets herself up for the surprise. She takes off her coat, sticking it and her suitcase under the bed and out of sight. It takes a bit of pushing, but eventually she makes it fit.

Then, she folds up the note she wrote and writes ‘Caddy’ on it with a heart and puts it on Cady’s desk for her to find, before deciding to hide in the nearby tiny storage closet. Regina said it would only be a few minutes, she can make it that long.

-

Janis grins widely as she hears her girlfriend in the hallway, trying not to make any noise from her hiding spot.

She peeks through the gap as Cady enters and takes off her coat. Cady suddenly notices the note on her desk. While she’s occupied reading it, Janis takes the time to step out and stand behind her. Cady reads the end and whirls around.

“Janis!” She yells, running to her and pitching herself into her arms. Janis stumbles back when her girlfriend rockets into her, but recovers quickly and holds her close. “What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t come back until next week!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Janis chuckles. She hears Cady sniffle and feels tears soak into her shoulder. “Why are you crying?”

“I missed you so much,” Cady sobs. “You’re so much better than a pillow.”

“Aww, Peanut,” Janis coos. Her arms are getting a little tired, so she goes to sit on the bed. Regina technically has the bottom bunk, but she doesn’t have to know. Cady refuses to let her go, actually locking tighter around her now that they’re seated. “I missed you so, so much.”

Cady pulls back but doesn’t unlock herself, wiping her tears away and cupping Janis’ face. She stares intently at her and brushes her thumbs over her cheeks so softly.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers. Suddenly she whacks Janis’ arm gently. “You stinker! You tricked me!”

“To surprise you, ow!” Janis laughs. “You seemed so sad, I figured this might cheer you up.”

“I haven’t seen you in five months, of course I’ve been sad,” Cady says quietly. “You’ve been here for so long and haven’t kissed me yet.”

Janis grins and pulls her in, tangling a hand in Cady’s hair and gripping her waist with the other. Cady runs her hands up and down Janis’ back before eventually settling on her shoulders. They both sigh in relief at the warmth of each other, finally feeling each other’s grip and the soft texture of one another’s lips.

“So much better than kissing a camera,” Janis mumbles happily.

“Definitely,” Cady giggles. “How long are you here?”

“I have to go back on the fourth, my classes start again on the sixth,” Janis shrugs. “We have almost a full month together.”

“Yay,” Cady says happily. “Does your family know you’re back?”

“No, I’m staying here until you guys go back. But they might find out before then, Dame already went back,” Janis shrugs.

“You criminal,” Cady gasps jokingly. “Staying here against the rules, how dare.”

“I know, it’s terribly scandalous,” Janis chuckles. She starts poking random places on Cady’s face gently, then follows them with kisses.

“What are you doing?” Cady giggles.

“Your freckles,” Janis says between little pecks. “I’m trying to memorize where they are, they don’t show up as well on camera.”

“Mm,” Cady hums in understanding. “Tickles.”

“Sorry,” Janis breathes. “What should we do?”

Cady pulls back and hauls Janis up with her, then crawls up onto her own bed. Janis comes up after her, having to be careful of bonking her head against the ceiling.

“Snuggles. Right now,” Cady demands, getting comfy on her side and reaching for her.

“Bossy,” Janis snorts, but obliges without complaint. She tucks herself against Cady’s chest and pulls herself closer. “This is a nice sweater.”

“Thanks, I just bought it the other day,” Cady chuckles in response. “Your hair is blue again.”

“I know, what do you think?” Janis asks, shaking it out gently so Cady can feel. “I had it green last week, I had to dye it back for you.”

Cady sticks her hands into it and fiddles with the ends happily. “It’s so soft!”

“Thanks,” Janis giggles at her reaction. “It’s basically colored conditioner, so it’s been doing me a lot of favors.”

Cady cuddles back in, but doesn’t take her hands out of her hair. “Do you have purple?”

“Yeah, I do,” Janis replies. “I’ll do that one next week, you wanna help?” Cady nods eagerly. “And your hair grew, you look cute.”

“Thanks!” Cady chirps happily. Her hair has grown out to her shoulders now, and is still as curly as ever. “God, I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I am too,” Janis grins. Cady squeals in surprise as she rolls over onto her back and pulls Cady on top of her. “How’s my math genius been doing here?”

Cady smiles against her neck. “As good as I can without you. I think I’m most of my professors’ favorite student. Oh, and I had a meeting with my advisor the other day, and they said I’m still on track to graduate after next year.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Janis grins happily, running her fingers through Cady’s curls. She still uses the cherry shampoo. “I’m surprised your head hasn’t exploded yet. How do you have room for all those brains?”

Cady chuckles again and leans up on her elbows. “You’re one to talk. So many art techniques rattling around in there.”

“And very little else,” Janis replies. Cady flicks her ear gently.

“You’re brilliant, shush your face,” she frowns.

“Make me,” Janis teases.

“Happily,” Cady smirks, leaning down to press their lips together again.

————-

On Christmas Eve, Cady sneaks out of her house and over to Janis’. She left her parents a note and sets an alarm so she can be back in time for presents anyway.

Janis doesn’t have a tree she can climb, so she picks up all the little pebbles she finds on the way to pitch at her window instead. Cady could just text to wake her up, but this is more romantic.

It only takes four rocks for Janis’ face to appear in the window, bleary eyes looking out into the yard to see who’s out there. She grins happily when she sees Cady and disappears suddenly to go let her in.

“What are you doing here?” She murmurs when she has her back in her arms.

“It’s Christmas,” Cady shrugs. “Or nearly, anyway. All I want is to be with you, and you’re close enough now that I can.”

“No, I appreciate that,” Janis replies, scooping her up and carrying her inside. “But it’s, like, ten degrees outside and you’re just in your pajamas and you also walked over here alone at night.”

“You don’t live that far,” Cady shrugs, but now that Janis brings it up she is absolutely freezing.

“It’s a ten minute walk, Butterfly,” Janis chuckles. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Cady yawns when Janis carries her past the stairs and down the hall.

“I can feel you shivering, let’s go have hot chocolate,” Janis responds, shifting her grip and then resting her on the counter.

“Oh,” Cady says happily. “Okay.”

Janis pours some milk into mugs and puts them in the microwave, then returns to her girlfriend. Cady grins as Janis cups her face and leans in, wrapping her legs around Janis’ waist and pulling her closer. They lose themselves in the bliss of one another, in kiss after kiss.

Until the microwave beeps and Janis has to scramble to stop it before it wakes up her family. She manages after just two beeps, Cady giggling quietly from her perch on the counter as she removes the warm mugs and adds in the cocoa, then a touch of cinnamon and some marshmallows. She puts crushed candy canes in her own, leaving Cady’s plain since she hates mint.

“Thank you, my love,” Cady says when Janis passes hers over, cradling the toasty drink in both hands and taking a small sip. It almost burns her tongue, but she’s so cold from her journey over that it actually feels nice. Janis pops up on the counter next to her and leans her head on her shoulder.

Cady laces their fingers together and leans her head against Janis’ with a few gentle kisses to her hair. They both take small sips of their tasty drinks, feeling the peace of the holiday as they’re alone together in a dark kitchen in the middle of the night.

“Merry Christmas, Peanut,” Janis murmurs when the clock on the stove hits midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Jayjay,” Cady mutters back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janis says, finishing off her cocoa. Cady downs the rest of hers and hands her mug over, then clings to Janis as she comes to scoop her back off the counter.

“Surprised you made it up this late,” Janis murmurs. “Midnight’s impressive for you.”

“I know,” Cady yawns. “You make good hot chocolate. ‘M sleepy.”

“Thank you,” Janis chuckles. She rests Cady on her bed and crawls in after her, grinning happily when her girlfriend latches back onto her like an adorable octopus. “Goodnight, Butterfly.”

“Night night, Bluejay,” Cady mumbles back, drifting off almost immediately in her girlfriend’s warm embrace.

————-

The next afternoon, they meet at Cady’s house to do their gift exchange with Damian. Janis had driven Cady back home in the wee hours of the morning, so their families were none the wiser that they had spent the night together.

Damian opens his presents first, getting a signed Cabaret playbill from Janis and several new pairs of fun socks for his collection from Cady.

Janis goes next. Damian got her some new jackets to customize (to make up for the one sacrificed to make Cady’s special cuddle cushion). Cady’s gift is smaller, and Janis opens a fancy box to reveal a charm bracelet.

It’s mostly empty, but there’s one fancy-looking gem and one half of a heart, similar to the split necklaces she has with Damian.

“I know it’s not really your style,” Cady says nervously. “But I figured you could fill it up however you want. And you don’t have to wear it. I have the other heart charm, I just have to find something to put it on.”

“I’ll wear it forever, back off,” Janis says protectively, fastening it around her wrist. “I love it.”

“Oh, good,” Cady breathes. It’s finally her turn to open her own presents. Damian surprises her with her plane ticket to New York to stay with them for spring break. “No way!”

“You said you wanted to come see New York,” Janis responds with a giggle as Cady tackles Damian in a hug. He hugs her tightly for a while before letting her go to open her present from Janis.

Once again, it seems that Janis and Cady have had similar ideas. “Chains?” Cady asks confusedly.

“For your necklace,” Janis replies. “For Rhys. You can try them all and figure out which ones you can handle, there’s a bunch of different ones. And if none of them work then I’ll take you to the shop when you come visit us and you can pick some to try.”

Cady has two very important necklaces that she can’t wear due to the chains. One is a locket containing some of her brother’s ashes, and the other is a charm with his thumbprint etched into it. Janis figured she can move both charms to one chain once they figure out which one she can use.

Janis frowns in concern when she sees her girlfriend’s eyes brimming with tears, but Cady just rockets herself into her arms and kisses her neck a few times.

“Thank you,” she chokes softly. “So much.”

“Of course, baby. I know how bad you want to wear them, we’ll figure out a way for you to,” Janis murmurs in reply, holding her close.

Cady reaches for Damian too, so he comes over and squishes both of them in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas,” Cady says quietly.

“Merry Christmas!” Damian cheers. “I love you guys.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Cady says suddenly, wiggling her way out of the cuddle and running to turn the lights off. They’re illuminated only by the lights on the tree until Cady grabs her phone and turns on the flashlight. “Gimme your wrist, Jay.”

Janis reaches the one with the bracelet over to her in confusion. Cady spins it until the charm with the gem is found, then presses the light to the underside.

“Whoa,” Janis whispers. The dark walls are now illuminated with writing in several languages. She looks around until she finds one she recognizes.

“It says ‘I love you’ in a bunch of different languages,” Cady says just as she finds English. “Here, hold it.”

Janis takes the light and continues holding it to the gem, and Cady runs to the wall to point out all the languages. “It’s technically from China, so they might not be perfect. But this is Spanish, ‘Te quiero’, and this is Swahili,” she says excitedly, having to stand on her tippy toes to reach it. “‘Nakupenda’, and over here is Swedish, ‘Jag älskar dig’.”

She continues running around and pointing to them all excitedly, having to jump to reach certain ones or stand on her tippy toes for others. Janis is amazed that she can recognize and pronounce them all, even the languages she doesn’t speak.

Cady turns the lights back on and sits back down once all of them have been pointed out. Damian and Janis had just let her have at it. It’s quite entertaining, watching her run around and chatter about one of her interests.

“Thanks, babe,” Janis chuckles as a panting Cady plops down in between them. “That’s really sweet. And your explanation was very informative.”

“Thank you,” Cady puffs. “Now, what Christmas movies are you going to introduce me to this year?”

Damian’s eyes suddenly light up and he gasps dramatically. “We never did Elf!”

“Fuck!” Janis says when she remembers that unfortunate fact. “Cads, come on, we have to do this now. This is vital.”

“Okay,” Cady giggles, moving them to the couch. She hands Damian the remote and Janis the blankets so they can get everything ready, then heads into the kitchen herself to get their munchies.

She comes back to a full-on blanket fort and a movie waiting for them, handing over the towering plate of cookies and mugs of hot chocolate. Janis pulls her in close and cuddles Cady between herself and Damian.

Best Christmas yet, Cady thinks to herself as the movie begins.

————-

In January, Janis and Damian are officially returned to New York and Cady heads back to school.

Two weeks in, she catches a miserable cold. Apparently it circulates every year, known as the college plague. Regina let her have the dorm room and was spending the nights with friends so she could avoid it as much as possible.

Cady doesn’t want to let Janis know she’s sick, so she hauls herself out of her bed and down to the desk for their weekly Facetime date. Seeing Janis will make her feel better anyway.

“Hey, Peanut,” Janis says happily as soon as her girlfriend comes into view on screen, but it quickly turns into a frown. Cady is bundled in Damian’s blue hoodie, and already wearing her glasses instead of contacts. Janis can also see her bed is unmade and covered with tissues, and spies a bottle of medicine off to the side.

“Hi, Jay,” Cady says, trying to keep the slight croak out of her pained voice. “How are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Janis says. “Go get in bed.”

“What?” Cady says confusedly. “Why?”

“Baby, I can tell you’re miserable, go get in bed,” Janis insists. “Talk to me there, you should be lying down.”

“I’m fine,” Cady says. Janis raises an eyebrow. “Ugh, okay.”

Cady unplugs the computer rests it on her bed, plugging it back into the other outlet before she crawls back into bed. Janis was right, being in bed is much better. She props herself up on her pillows and covers herself with her blanket, then rests the computer with Janis still watching in concern on her lap.

“Much better,” Janis smiles. “What did you catch, Butterfly?”

“It’s just a cold,” Cady says with a sniffle. “I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

Janis pouts. “Poor Peanut. Have you eaten? And are you drinking water?”

Cady holds up her water bottle. “Yes, of course. I haven’t eaten dinner yet, but it’s fine. I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“Okay,” Janis says. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, love,” Cady says. Suddenly, she sneezes violently a couple times. Janis chuckles, she’s always found Cady’s sneezes adorable. Cady pouts as she blows her nose. “Don’ laugh a’ me.”

“Sorry, Butterfly,” Janis says. “You should rest, baby.”

“No,” Cady frowns. “Don’t hang up, I’m fine.”

“I won’t,” Janis says. “If you’re sure you’re okay.”

Cady nods. “How has your week been?”

“Good, actually,” Janis says a bit quieter. She has a sneaky plan to get Cady to rest. Cady loves her voice, so if she just keeps talking, maybe she’ll go to sleep. “My new portrait professor is really funny, and he makes everything so easy to understand.”

“Good,” Cady grins.

“Yeah, he’s really nice,” Janis says. “And he’s gay, he’s got a husband and kids. He always draws one of them whenever he has to do a model or give an example, it’s really cute.”

“Aww,” Cady says, trying to hide a yawn. Janis has noticed she’s sliding down her pillows slightly and definitely noticed the stifled yawn. Cady rests the laptop next to her and turns onto her side, taking her glasses off and cuddling in with her blankets. Nearly there.

“And I got a new assignment to draw more natural stuff from one of my other classes, so Damian and I have been going to Central Park a lot,” Janis continues, grinning as Cady’s eyes start to flutter shut. “It’s cold, but it’s really pretty all covered in snow and stuff. Hopefully everything will be green by the time you’re here, though.”

Cady grins a little at the reminder that they’ll be back together in March, and that she gets to see New York for the first time ever. She doesn’t say anything, just continues letting Janis talk and lull her to sleep.

Janis continues rambling about all her art and what she and Damian have been up to until she sees Cady’s eyes flutter shut and her chest begin to rise and fall evenly. She’s snoring ever so gently, since she’s so congested from her cold.

Janis did promise not to hang up, so she reaches to grab her sketchbook. Cady snoozes and Janis sketches her, penciling in all her freckles and stroking out her long eyelashes as they rest on her cheeks.

Cady still hasn’t woken up after a rather long time, even when Janis finishes drawing her messy curls and shading her red nose. Janis sends a text to Regina asking her to drop some food off for Cady, and then unfortunately has to hang up.

“Sleep well, Peanut,” she whispers. “I love you.”

She shoots Cady a text for her to find when she wakes up and closes the screen.

————-

In February, Cady’s birthday comes around. All she really wants is some cuddles from Janis and Damian, but it’s just unreasonable to expect them to come back for one day.

Instead, she’s surprised to open the door to her dorm room and find it completely covered in balloons and streamers. Regina fires off a rather large confetti cannon as soon as she enters, making them both shriek in surprise at the loud bang and entirely too much confetti rain down from the ceiling. A few pieces actually get stuck hanging from it, or lost in lampshades.

“Happy birthday, bitch!” Regina calls once they’ve both recovered. “Shit.”

“Regina, oh my god,” Cady laughs, pointing to a completely busted ceiling lamp. “This is… wow.”

“Janis did it,” Regina shrugs. “I blame her.”

“Sorry!” A voice rings out from the desk. “I didn’t read the measurements right. Turns out that size is for outdoor use only.”

“Hey, love!” Cady laughs, coming to greet her girlfriend on Facetime. “Thanks for the rest of it! But now we have to pay for that light.”

“I’ll get that too, it’s my bad,” Janis winces. “Happy birthday, baby!”

“Thanks,” Cady says. “Oh, hi Damian!”

“Hey, Caddy,” Damian greets, leaning in next to Janis. There’s a bowl of what looks suspiciously like popcorn on his lap. “Happy birthday, I miss you!”

“I miss you too, D,” Cady says. “One more month!”

“Yeah!” He cheers, leaning back over to his spot.

“Okay, go get comfy,” Regina demands, pointing to her bed.

“What’s happening?” Cady asks confusedly, but listens, going to grab her blanket and a pillow and getting into Regina’s bunk.

“Movie night, duh,” Regina says. “Here.” She hands the laptop over to Cady and grabs a bowl of snacks Cady hadn’t seen before, then crawls into the bed next to her.

Cady rests the laptop between them so they can both see the movie and their friends. Suddenly, another call comes in. “Oh, yay!” Cady answers it and smiles as Karen comes onto the screen. She’s still in Evanston, attending the local community college and working part time.

“Happy birthday, Cady! Cake emoji!” Karen says happily.

“Thanks, Karen!” Cady responds. Then, yet another call comes in. “No way.”

Gretchen is all the way in France, studying fashion at one of the most elite schools there.

“Oh my god, Gretch, hi!” Cady says. Gretchen looks very tired, but smiles when she sees her friends and girlfriend. Janis is only a few states away from Cady, she can’t imagine what it must be like for Gretchen and Karen trying to do long-distance from different continents.

“Hey, Cady lady! Happy birthday,” Gretchen says softly so she doesn’t wake up her roommates.

“This is crazy,” Cady says happily. Janis really went all out setting it up.

“Happy birthday, baby. What movie do you want to watch?” Janis asks, grinning at her girlfriend’s happy smile.

Cady looks sheepish. “The Lion King?”

Everyone laughs, knowing her well. Janis pulls it up on the shared screen so they can all watch at the same time. “Of course you do. Here we go.”

Cady cuddles in with her blanket and munches happily on her snacks. It’s a perfect evening, and she can’t wait to see all her friends in person again soon.

—————

Juliana’s birthday is the day before Cady flies to New York. Julie has kept her updated on how school has been going and what life is like in Evanston, but they haven’t seen each other in person since January.

So, Cady drives home to surprise her. Turning twelve is a very important occasion. She talks with Janis on the phone as she makes the rather long drive back to her hometown.

She switches to Facetime Janis as she pulls onto the correct street and puts the car in park. Julie deserves to see her sister’s face, even if they can’t be together in person.

Damian pops up as well. He might as well be their brother anyway, he’s so close with both of them. Cady grins as she knocks on the door. It’s different, knowing Janis isn’t going to be there, but she’s still excited to see Juliana.

“Cady!” Julie yells happily as she opens the door. Cady grunts slightly as she hugs her. Julie is officially taller than her now at 5’4”, much to Cady‘s chagrin.

“Hey, kiddo! Happy birthday,” Cady greets as Julie squeezes her tightly. “Oh, here, I forgot your present in the car.”

She hands over her phone so Janis can talk to her sister, smiling as she hears Janis yell a very loud happy birthday over the speakers. Julie laughs and continues talking to Janis and Damian while Cady grabs a gift bag from the car.

“Okay, this is technically from all three of us, Janis and Damian sent me their parts of it,” Cady says, handing the bag over and taking her phone back so Janis and Damian can see Julie open it.

Julie tears into it quickly, removing the tissue paper and pulling out a jacket like Janis’, a few starter paints, and some patches. She’s always wanted to be like Janis, so they all got her a jacket of her own to decorate however she wants. Janis bought the jacket itself, Damian got the patches, and Cady bought the paint set.

Julie gasps excitedly when she sees everything all together. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Cady laughs as she runs to hug her again, and hears similar reactions from Janis and Damian through the speakers. “You’re welcome, Jules. What do you want to do now?”

“Cake,” Julie says instantly. She and Janis are remarkably similar sometimes. “Janny, it’s chocolate, should I save you some?”

Cady watches Janis process that and try to hide the tears pricking her eyes. She won’t be back in Illinois to see her sister until May, even if they freeze the cake it’ll be nearly inedible by the time she could.

“Nah, Jules, it’s fine,” Janis replies as Julie leads Cady into the house. “You eat my piece too and then we’ll buy another one when I come back.”

“Okay,” Julie giggles.

Everyone sings her happy birthday after their mom lights the candles, and Julie blows them out happily. Cady hears Janis sing extra loudly, both to beat out Damian and to make sure Juliana could still hear her.

Janis stays on the phone with them for the rest of the day, there in spirit to help Julie decide what to put on her jacket and where, and also when Cady takes her out for ice cream for dinner. As the sun sets Juliana remarks that she had even more fun today than when she got to go bowling with her friends the evening before.

Cady does eventually have to both hang up on her girlfriend and get back to her own house so she can prepare for her trip the next day. Julie hugs her tightly before she can leave.

“Thank you for coming,” she says quietly.

“Of course,” Cady replies. “I think of you as my sister too. I’ll always come for your birthdays.”

Juliana clings to her a little tighter at that, and Cady squeezes her back before she does actually have to let go and leave. Cady is glad to have a sibling in some form again.

—————

Cady wakes up entirely too early the next morning, excited to see her girlfriend again for the first time since January. Her flight doesn’t leave for another six hours or so, so she has some time to kill.

She double checks she has everything packed in her suitcase and that all her tickets are in order, makes her bed extra carefully, and then heads to find some breakfast downstairs.

Cady can barely focus enough to make cereal, she’s so excited at the prospect of seeing both Janis and New York City. Her parents come down as she’s cleaning up after herself, so she decides to catch up with them for a while.

-

After several rounds of Guitar Hero, her dad reminds her of her flight and she rushes back upstairs to get ready.

Cady flies through taking a shower, brushing her hair and teeth, and putting on some comfy travel clothes before she grabs her bags and runs back downstairs. Her parents chuckle at her eagerness and lead her to the car to drop her off.

She hugs them goodbye before she has to pass through security, and then she’s off on her little adventure.

-

Janis texts her as she waits at the gate for her flight to be called to board. It’s a video of her trying to haul Damian out of bed and him moaning that it’s a ‘holy day’ and demanding more sleep.

She giggles quietly at her friends’ antics and smiles when she remembers she’ll be able to hug them in just a few hours. Cady sends back a message telling Janis to leave Damian alone to sleep and another excited message telling her she can’t wait to hug and kiss her again.

Janis texts back the same and tells her she’ll be waiting (hopefully with Damian, but that remains to be seen) at the airport with all the cuddles and kisses they’ve been lacking for the last two months.

-

Three hours later she’s officially in a different state, and in a different time zone, and in her girlfriend’s arms. Cady’s bags wait on the carousel as she clings tightly to Janis and kisses all over her face. They get a few strange looks, but neither of them really care.

Damian did end up coming, so Cady hugs him tightly as well. He kindly takes her suitcase out to their Uber so Cady can hold hands with both of them instead.

Janis smiles when she sees the necklace Cady has on, containing both her charms for her brother. She’d tried all the chains for a week, and found one with smaller links that was the least aggravating. After a bit of practice, she can wear it all day now. Her goal now is to find a bracelet she can wear to put her half-heart charm on to match Janis’.

—————-

Janis unlocks the door to their apartment for them and leads Cady in to show her around. It’s rather small, but has an impressive two bedrooms. Cady likes it, it’s very cozy.

She especially likes Janis’ bedroom, which has been personalized wall to wall. She put paper on the walls and painted over that, intricate murals of all sorts of patterns and colors and textures. Her familiar black bedsheets don the bed, and Cady smiles when she sees her Mathletes jacket covering a pillow that Janis cuddles.

Janis flops down onto it and reaches for her actual girlfriend, so Cady cuddles into her happily.

“I love it here already,” she says quietly, nuzzling into Janis’ neck and fiddling with her pink-tipped hair. “You look good with pink hair.”

“You think?” Janis responds. “I was kind of scared to try it, actually. Damian made me do it.”

“Yes! You look good in pink, I keep trying to tell you,” Cady giggles. “Maybe I should dye mine.”

“No,” Janis whines, fiddling with Cady’s curls. “I love your hair.”

Cady grins at her. “Not even like you do? Don’t you think I’d look fun with, like, purple hair for a couple days?”

Janis ponders that, looking at her girlfriend to analyze. “Maybe. If you really want to. I do think you’d look good, I just love you as a redhead.”

“Thank you,” Cady smiles. “I love you in every color.”

“You’re so sappy,” Janis groans, but she’s smiling happily too. “I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” Cady replies quietly. “I can’t wait for summer.”

“Two more months,” Janis agrees. “Then we have so many movie nights and cuddle sessions to make up for.”

Cady smiles again and cuddles back into Janis’ shoulder. “I can’t wait. I’ve missed in-person movie nights.”

“I have too. It’s not the same without you attached to my arm like an octopus when we watch scary movies,” Janis teases. “Or without you trying to steal my popcorn.”

“Our popcorn, excuse you,” Cady retaliates. “I get girlfriend privileges. If we’re watching scary movies it’s our arm and our popcorn.”

Janis laughs at that and rolls onto her side so they can face each other. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Cady replies, inching closer and leaning in for kisses. Janis rests a hand on her cheek and responds in kind, running her tongue gently over her bottom lip and pulling her closer when Cady gasps quietly.

After a while, neither of them is sure how long exactly, Cady pulls back abruptly with a gasp.

“What happened?” Janis asks in concern.

“Our anniversary,” Cady says. “It’s been a year, on my birthday.”

“Oh, yeah,” Janis says. “I was more focused on the birthday, I totally forgot.”

“So did I,” Cady chuckles. “Well, we can celebrate now.”

“Yeah we can,” Janis purrs, rolling to pin Cady underneath her and pressing their lips together again. She hopes Damian took a hint and went out somewhere.

—————-

The next day, Janis and Damian show Cady around the city. Janis shows her the local jewelry store and helps Cady pick a charm bracelet chain to try, and then Damian takes them to the Broadway area to look around.

“Wow,” Cady says in awe at all the bright colors and big signs. It’s strange to think that all the bootlegs she’s watched with Damian over the years were filmed in these buildings. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it just?” Damian sighs dramatically. “Oh, that reminds me. I have a very, very late birthday present for you, Cads.”

“Aww, really?” Cady asks. Janis raises a suspicious eyebrow. A present this late is almost sure to have some sort of selfish motivation behind it.

“Um… I might have impulse bought three tickets to Wicked,” he says sheepishly. “Surprise!”

“No way!” Cady calls and leaps into his arms. She’s aware of its reputation as one of the more ‘basic’ musicals out there, but it is still one of her favorites. Janis seems kind of excited as well, though she loathes musicals. “When is it?”

“A few hours, we have a little bit of time to kill,” Damian responds. “We should eat first, anyway.”

Cady refuses to let him go, so Damian carries her piggyback to their favorite sandwich place that he and Janis had discovered while they were lost one night. Neither of them are still totally sure how it happened since the streets are numbered, but Janis wasn’t particularly surprised, knowing their math skills, even combined, are rather sub-par.

—————-

Several hours later, they’re in the theater and ready to watch the show. Cady is shaking with excitement, looking around in awe at the set and all the lights. Their seats aren’t very close to the stage, but Cady is excited that she can see the whole thing at once.

Janis squeezes her hand and smiles affectionately at her girlfriend’s joy. Damian grabs Janis’ bag and passes out the snacks he’d managed to smuggle in. Cady offers Janis some of her Sour Patch Kids, which Janis takes. In return, Cady gets a few Milk Duds.

Cady leans onto her shoulder as the opening music starts, and stays there for the whole first act. Janis can feel every smile and hear every gasp or reaction to the events on stage. Janis is rather shocked herself, having somehow never seen the show. She’s quite frightened when they finally get to Defying Gravity and Elphaba is suddenly at their eye level.

-

Cady buys them all matching t-shirts from the merch area after the show, still vibrating with the adrenaline. Janis is pouting, making Cady frown.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you have fun?” She asks sadly, wrapping her arms around Janis’ neck. Janis holds onto her waist while Damian heads off to take pictures of everything.

“I did,” Janis responds. “I just really thought Elphaba and Glinda would end up together.”

“Oh,” Cady laughs. “I did too, honestly. Fiyero isn’t bad, though. He’s cute.”

“You’d make a good Galinda,” Janis murmurs, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“And you would make a great Elphie,” Cady says, kissing her back.

“You really think I could sing like that?” Janis chuckles. “I don’t think I could handle being up so high.”

“You have a beautiful voice, of course you could,” Cady says. “And she’s fastened in, you wouldn’t fall.”

“Still, did you see how high they go? And you’d be in the bubble,” Janis mumbles with an anxious shudder. “Maybe for Halloween.”

Cady grins back. “Yeah, that’d be better. Then you can stay on the ground.”

“Humans aren’t supposed to be up that high!” Janis insists. “I’m the normal one here for once.”

“I never said you weren’t,” Cady giggles at her reaction. “Come on, let’s go find Damian.”

Janis pouts but follows as Cady hauls her around by the hand.

—————-

Janis and Damian drop Cady off at the airport again at the end of the week. Cady has an extra suitcase now, to carry all of her treasures she’s acquired in the city.

They all cling to one another desperately before Cady has to pass through security. Damian heads to a vending machine to give Cady and Janis some alone time.

They’re both already crying slightly, sniffling into each other’s shoulders. A single week together isn’t nearly enough time.

“It’s just two more months,” Cady whispers. “We’ve made it this far, we can do it again.”

“But I don’t want to do it again,” Janis whimpers. “I want to be with you.”

“I know, love. So do I,” Cady sniffles. “We’ll have the whole summer together. We can do it.”

“Summer,” Janis repeats to comfort herself. It feels years away. “God, I thought this was supposed to get easier.”

“I don’t think it ever will,” Cady chuckles sardonically. “Kiss me.”

Janis obliges, tugging Cady in by the waist as Cady cups her cheeks. She tries to memorize the cherry scent of her hair, and the artificial watermelon taste of her chapstick that still lingers. Neither of them care that they’re making out in an incredibly crowded airport, or that they’re getting strange looks. They need this moment.

“Two months,” Janis whispers when they break apart.

“Two months,” Cady repeats. They’ve already done their calendars for the next few months, and heavily decorated the day Janis and Damian would be flying back for the summer. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Janis sniffs.

“I love you most,” Cady murmurs, tipping her face back up for more kisses.

Damian comes back after another couple minutes and gives a cough to announce his return, so they break apart regretfully. Cady heads to cling to him, and he holds her just as tight.

“Bye, Little Slice,” he says sadly. Cady squishes her face against his chest to hide her tears.

“Bye, D,” she whispers back. “I’ll see you in May.”

Janis presses against her back so Cady is totally pinned between her art freaks. They stay like that until the last possible minute, but Cady does still have a flight home to catch.

She heads through security and blows them kisses from the other side, which they return before they head to leave.

Two months.

——————

Cady and Janis talk every day, and still have their weekly Facetime dates. They text in between classes and call to chat as they study for finals.

Until Cady doesn’t answer the phone one day.

Janis tries not to worry. She knows that it’s Cady’s last week to prepare, and that she has good reason to be stressed. But Cady’s never ignored her calls or messages before.

Janis tries not to bother her, only leaving one voicemail and trying to limit the amount of texts she sends.

She smiles when a call from Cady finally comes through, but it quickly fades when she picks up. Apparently she hadn’t been restrained enough for Cady’s taste.

“Janis, what do you want? My exams are next week, I have to study,” Cady huffs.

Janis is confused, she just wanted to check in. “I just… wanted to talk to you. I miss you.”

“Janis, these are important,” Cady growls in retaliation. “I miss you too, but god.”

“If that’s how it is,” Janis replies quietly. “Then I’ll leave you alone.” She hangs up and turns her phone to silent, plopping it into her nightstand drawer before turning away from it and crying into her pillow.

-

Damian wakes her up a few hours later, she must have drifted off. “I made dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” Janis whispers back, not even turning to look at him. “I’ll eat later.”

“No you fucking will not, what happened?” Damian demands, flicking on her light and coming into her bed with her.

“Nothing happened, I’m just not hungry,” Janis insists, turning to squish her face into her pillow so he can’t see the tear tracks. He isn’t fooled, hauling her up by the back of her shirt like a mama cat grabs a kitten. “Hey!”

He rests her down once she’s upright and looks at her face. “You’ve been crying. What happened?”

Janis falls apart with one look into his eyes, bursting into heartbroken tears again. Damian pulls her in for a hug and waits for an explanation.

She’s crying too hard and doesn’t want to give details, so she just sobs out a “Cady.” and hopes he can piece together what he needs to.

“Did you have a fight?” He asks gently. Janis nods and cries harder into his chest. “Okay, shh. We’ll work it out.”

Janis cries herself to sleep again, somehow, so Damian tucks her in and heads back to the kitchen. He can’t believe he’s even considering the possibility, but maybe Regina can help.

damecupboard: Hey Reggie

georgewashington: Hey, Damian. What’s up?

damecupboard: Has Caddy said anything about Janis? Or been acting weird?

georgewashington: Janis, no. Acting weird, definitely. She’s been super on edge the last couple days. She yelled at me for breathing too loud while she was trying to study.

damecupboard: Jesus

damecupboard: She and Janis had a fight, Janis is messed up. She’s cried herself to sleep twice today already

georgewashington: I’m not surprised they fought. I don’t think Cady’s slept in three days. Poor Janis.

damecupboard: This isn’t like her, can you try to talk to her?

georgewashington: Uh. I can try, but it’s kind of like volunteering to enter a cage with a hungry lion.

damecupboard: Just try to ask her what’s going on but don’t make it obvious

georgewashington: Got it.

Damian bites his thumbnail anxiously while he waits for Regina to answer again. It’s not until nearly ten minutes later that his text tone pings off again.

georgewashington: Well. I think our whole building knows she’s on edge now, but in between yelling things I couldn’t understand she kept talking about getting into a good grad school and mentioning Janis.

damecupboard: Huh. She can totally get into a good school on her own, these aren’t that important

georgewashington: I’m worried about her, she really hasn’t slept in a few days. And she barely eats. All she does is study.

damecupboard: Yeah, yelling at you guys really isn’t like her. If I get Janis to, can you try to get her into a “movie night”? I think if they can see each other and talk it’ll help

georgewashington: You’re really just gonna sacrifice me like that huh.

georgewashington: I’ll try. Six your time, get Janis and call. If we don’t pick up she has actually murdered me for even asking.

damecupboard: Got it. Sorry, Reggie

damecupboard: I’ll make them buy you flowers

georgewashington: I like poppies.

Damian chuckles at her response and goes to wake up Janis again. He frowns when he finds her clinging to her pillow with Cady’s mathletes jacket covering it.

“Janjan, come on, your food is getting cold,” he says quietly, shaking her awake again. “You gotta come eat and then you can go back to bed.”

Janis just groans and turns to lie on her belly.

“You know full well I will haul your ass out of bed myself, come eat,” Damian insists, clapping his hands to try and get her to move.

“Can’t I just eat in here? And be sad?” Janis asks pitifully, poking out one chocolate brown eye to blink at him sadly.

“No.”

“Why?” Janis groans.

“Because I’m lonely, you have to keep me company,” Damian lies. “It’s your legal obligation as my roommate. It was in the papers we had to sign.”

Not even a chuckle. “Entertain yourself.”

Damian grabs her ankle and starts dragging her out of bed. Janis doesn’t resist but also doesn’t get up. “Come on.”

“No,” she whines, reaching for her blanket. She gives an “Oof!” as she thuds to the ground, but lets him continue to drag her out of the room and into the kitchen.

Damian allows her to stay on the ground, resting her plate of food on her chest and dragging her over to the couch. Janis pouts at him from the ground, so he removes the plate and helps her up, then hands it back.

She eats slowly, and leans on his shoulder with a sad sigh once her last bite is gone. He pulls her close and looks to the clock, it’s nearly six.

“What are you doing?” Janis asks confusedly when he reaches for his laptop and rests it on the coffee table in front of them.

“Nothing,” Damian replies quickly, but she can see him open Facetime and click through to Regina’s contact.

“Damian, no, I don’t wanna see them,” Janis whines. The call goes through regardless and catches Cady mid-very loud sentence.

“I told you, I don’t have time for a movie! God, what is with you people? First Janis, now you?!” She yells, presumably at Regina who’s just offscreen. Janis is suddenly confronted with the memory of their very short phone call, and some more unpleasant ones from their high school days. She feels herself sniffle and let out a sob into Damian’s shoulder, making Cady suddenly snap her head to look at the screen.

“Hey,” Damian greets with a wave, as if he hasn’t just witnessed the terrifying display of Cady-rage on screen and doesn’t have a very upset Janis weeping into his shoulder. “How’s it going?”

Cady suddenly looks very sheepish. She frowns when she sees Janis crying quietly.

“Cady. Talk to them.” Regina demands. Cady’s bottom lip starts trembling and she suddenly bursts into tears as well.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “I’ve… I’ve been such a bitch, I’m so sorry. Janis.”

Janis looks up when she hears her girlfriend start crying, still instinctively wanting to comfort her even though she’s distraught herself. Damian pats her shoulder comfortingly to try and get her to talk.

“What is going on with you?” Janis asks. It sounds more rude than she wants it to, but  it’ll do.

“Jay, I’m so sorry,” Cady sobs. “I’ve been… I’m trying to study as much as I can. If I don’t pass then I might-I might get bumped back a semester, or I won’t get into grad school. I-I have to pass, I have to do well enough. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Why are you so worried about this?” Janis asks quietly with a shaky sniffle. “You’ll pass.”

Cady starts crying harder at the question. “Because if I don’t I might never see you again,” she wails rapidly.

“Whoa, what?” Janis says. “What are you talking about?”

“If I don’t pass I won’t get into grad school and then I won’t be smart enough for you and-and I’m trying to get into schools in New York so I can be close to you but if I don’t then we have to keep doing this and I don’t want you to leave me,” Cady sobs. “But now I fucked everything up and got mad at you and you might anyway!”

Janis suddenly realizes this goes a lot deeper than she thought, and Janis didn’t actually have anything to do with her outburst at all. Damian leaves suddenly to give them some privacy, and she hears the door to Cady’s dorm click shut through the speakers, signaling Regina has done the same.

“Caddy, hey,” Janis says as Cady has her face buried in her arms at her desk. “When was the last time you slept?”

Cady peeks up at her and chokes out more sobs. “I don’t know. I think Tuesday.”

“And when was the last time you ate?” Janis asks quietly.

“Lunch, a while ago,” Cady sobs again.

“Baby, this isn’t healthy,” Janis says. “You can’t do this to yourself.”

“But I have to study, Jay, I have so much to-“

“No,” Janis insists. “You don’t. You’re burning yourself out. You haven’t slept in four days, and Regina just told me that ‘lunch’ you ate was yesterday. You’re gonna kill yourself if you keep going like this.”

“No, I have to-“

“Cady Jane Heron, listen to me,” Janis demands loudly. Cady snaps her head up and looks at the screen almost in fear. “I love you. I love you more than anything in this fucking world put together. I’m not going to break up with you because you don’t get into a grad school. I don’t care how smart you are. I love that you’re brilliant because it’s part of who you are, but if that changes it doesn’t change you. Or how much I love you. And we’ve made it this long being apart, I can handle a little bit longer for you to try again or figure out what else you want to do. All I care about right now is you being okay and still loving me at the end of the day.”

Cady dissolves into heavy sobs, burying her face in her arms again. “I’m not okay, Jay.”

“I know, baby. I know,” Janis says. “We’ll work on it. For now, go get in bed. I’ll have Regina bring you something to eat.”

Cady nods and unplugs the computer, climbing up into her unmade bed and crying gently against her pillows. Janis texts Regina and asks her to grab something quick for Cady to eat and letting her know Cady is sure to give a very long and tearful apology for her behavior.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Jay,” Cady mumbles in the meantime. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not gonna say it’s okay,” Janis replies. “But I understand. But you can’t do this again. You have to tell someone if you’re feeling like this, and I’m gonna get Reggie to watch you a little closer for a while. I love you.”

“Okay,” Cady sniffles. “I love you too.”

She perks up when Regina comes back with some soup from the dining hall, and starts sobbing again. Janis lets her apologize to Regina and waits for her to come back on screen.

Cady says her apologies several times over, and Janis can see Regina hug her begrudgingly from the edge of the screen. Now that she’s gotten her apologies in order, Cady gradually calms down, taking some deep breaths in between spoonfuls of her soup. It’s warm and filling, and she drifts off just after the last bite passes her lips.

Regina grabs the laptop and empty tray from her lap. Cady turns onto her side, deeply asleep.

“Fucking hell,” Regina murmurs under her breath. “I’ve never seen her like that, that was scary.”

“You’re telling me,” Janis jokes weakly. “Can you make sure she showers and eats again whenever she wakes up? And don’t let her study for a while?”

“Sure, I’ll hide her books,” Regina says, marking Cady’s pages and places with bookmarks before she carefully stashes them all in one of her own dresser drawers.

“Thanks,” Janis chuckles. “Let me know if anything happens.”

“Got it,” Regina replies. “Later, art freak.”

“Bye, Barbie.”

Janis closes the screen with a heavy sigh and leans her head into her hands as Damian enters again. “Everything sorted?”

“For now,” Janis sighs. “Fuck, D.”

“I know,” Damian comforts. “She’ll be okay. And now you know you can handle conflict from different states, that’s a plus.”

Janis is very glad she still has a girlfriend by the end of this day. “Can I sleep in your bed?”

“And you say you’re not clingy,” Damian teases. “Come on, loser, chop chop.”

————-

Cady is much more rational after a night of sleep, and texts both Janis and Damian one more apology. They Facetime Cady and Regina every day until the end of their term. Cady takes much better care of herself throughout, and only studies in short bursts. She passes all her exams with flying colors, as everyone knew she would.

Janis and Damian’s finals are the following week, and then they’re packing up their apartment and flying home for the summer. They decided to leave Janis’ truck there and not drive home for the sake of simplicity.

Cady texted them and said she couldn’t be at the airport to meet them due to a last math club meeting, but would be able to meet them at Janis’ house once they arrived there.

She, of course, was lying. She’s waiting by baggage claim and smiles when she sees her two favorite people (looking frankly exhausted) grab their suitcases. Cady quickly texts Janis before they can order themselves an Uber, telling her to turn around.

Janis does, and Cady jumps up and down and waves so she can see her. Janis smiles widely and runs to meet her. Cady runs to her too, and they meet each other halfway.

“I thought you couldn’t come,” Janis says as she picks Cady up to spin her around.

“I lied!” Cady says happily. “Payback for Christmas.”

“Ah,” Janis giggles, pulling her close again and wrapping her up tightly. “How are you, Peanut?”

“A lot better,” Cady replies quietly. “My parents put me in therapy to help, too.”

“Good,” Janis says. “Now take me home, I have girlfriend cuddles to catch up on.”

“Okay, come on,” Cady chuckles, lacing their fingers together and grabbing Damian as they leave the building for the last time until fall. Good riddance.

—————-

Juliana comes flying out the door when she sees them pull up, running full tilt towards her sister and pitching herself into her arms. Janis shrieks as her sister suddenly collides with her, but wraps her arms around her tightly.

“You’re weird, Jules,” she teases quietly into her sister’s hair. “You’re not supposed to like me.”

“I don’t, you’re gross,” Julie retaliates, but doesn’t leave. Janis suddenly hears an indignant meow, and looks down to find Pancakes sitting and waiting for his turn.

“How did you get out?” Janis asks, scooping up her chunky cat and stroking his ears. “And how did you get fatter since Christmas?”

“Oh, oops,” Julie says quietly, realizing she left the door open. “Come on.”

Damian and Janis’ moms come out to hug them, and Janis is confused to find Cady’s parents there as well. Cady grabs their suitcases while they make their greetings and carries them in for them.

Janis follows after her a few minutes later, still carrying Pancakes who is refusing to be set down. “What’s happening?”

“Just a little get together,” Cady teases, resting Janis’ suitcase on her bed to be unpacked later. “To celebrate you coming back.”

“Oh,” Janis replies. “What… what sort of get together?”

“You don’t have to be scared, it’s just a barbecue,” Cady giggles. “And nobody else is coming, we just have a lot of food. And Jules got you another cake.”

Janis grins affectionately. “Cute.”

Cady comes up and scritches Pancakes behind his ears, making him purr happily. “I know, Janis is home for three whole months!” Cady agrees excitedly. “And she’s been with me for two hours and hasn’t kissed me yet!”

Janis rolls her eyes lovingly and cups the back of her neck, pulling her in for a sweet kiss. Pancakes meows crankily when he’s squished between them, so they pull back.

“You’re a real cockblocker sometimes, you know that?” Janis asks him quietly. “Let’s go see if we can steal you some food.”

Pancakes is stuffed into his cat carrier so he can spend the evening in the backyard with them, and given a piece of a cheeseburger patty to appease him.

Janis, Cady, Damian and Juliana play tag while the adults cook, and then have a contest to see who can jump off the swings and land the furthest away.

Cady laughs delightedly as Janis pushes her swing higher, and shrieks in surprise as she comes rushing up behind her upon her landing to pick her up and carry her around. Janis slips after a few steps and they both tumble to the ground, but nobody is hurt.

“Jay, oh my god,” Cady laughs, clutching her stomach. Janis laughs with her and rolls off to the side, lying on her back next to her. “You’re such a dork.”

“Are you okay?” Janis laughs breathlessly. Cady had kind of taken the brunt of their impact with the ground.

“Yeah,” Cady chuckles, her laughter finally slowing. “Are you?”

Janis rolls on top of her again and leans down for a kiss. “I have you back with me, of course I’m okay.”

“You’re such a flirt, oh my god,” Cady giggles. Janis leans down again, but is suddenly beaned in the head with a foam football.

“Ow!” She yells, looking over to where Damian is standing with Juliana on his back.

“Horny police,” Damian calls. “Stop it.”

“Ugh!” Janis grumbles, but does roll off of her girlfriend. “You guys are no fun.”

“You literally just tossed your girlfriend on the ground and then fell on top of her, don’t talk to us about fun,” Julie retaliates. “We just don’t want to see you fuck in public.”

“Hey!” Janis calls, whacking her on the back of the head. “You’re not allowed to swear.”

“But you do it all the time!” Julie says.

“Yeah, do you really want to end up like me?” Janis asks.

“Fair point,” Julie shrugs, shrieking as Janis suddenly lunges for her. She slides off of Damian’s back and runs away from her sister’s wrath, with Janis running full speed after her.

“You little brat, get back here!” Janis yells, increasing her speed.

Cady and Damian watch in a mixture of hilarity and concern, laughing as Julie streaks by them. Janis is gaining on her, however.

Juliana makes it to the adults first, shielded by their mother. “Girls, behave.”

“Yeah, Janny,” Julie teases. “Behave.”

Janis sticks her tongue out at her, and Julie does it back. “Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

Julie dissolves into giggles at the threat, and Janis does too. Cady grins at their interactions, reminded of her brother. She still has the necklace, and touches the charms without thinking of it.

The sisters return to Cady and Damian then, both slightly out of breath. Janis kisses Cady in greeting and smiles as she nuzzles into her shoulder. Julie and Damian both make fake gagging sounds, but they ignore them this time.

Eventually they’re called to eat, and Cady sits on Janis’ lap as they all sit around a picnic blanket and munch happily on their hot dogs and burgers. Janis feels more at peace than she has since July.

Maybe summer is okay.

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls broadway #mean girls musical

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Quarantine

Summary: After an accident at work leaves the reader exposed to a dangerous virus, she has has to spend two weeks in quarantine with her ex-boyfriend, Dean...

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x Nurse!reader

Square: Accidental Confession

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo​

“Two weeks!” you said, a pair of gloved hands pointing for you to continue walking down the hall. “You can’t stick me in quarantine for that long!”

“It’s just a precaution, mam’,” said the man in the sealed up tight rubber suit. You groaned, following him down the hall until you rounded a corner, spotting someone else sitting in the room you were going to be stuck in.

“I am not sharing a room with him for two weeks!” you said.

“Get in the room mam,” he said. You whined but walked ahead, knowing you had no other option. You saw Dean tilt his head up from one of the beds as you were led through a pair of special doors that sealed behind you. Another opened and you entered the room, yet another pair of doors sealing behind you.

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Dean, standing up and going to the door. “I want my own room!”

“There’s only the one room. You both have to stay in there for the next two weeks,” said the man through the glass wall. “You were given instructions on how to get anything you need and will be provided food on a regular schedule or at request. You will be monitored from the other window bay.”

“I already hate this,” you groaned, kicking at the door you knew wasn’t opening anytime soon. The man walked away and that small hallway quickly went black, your focus going to the wall of glass windows with people moving around on the other side.

“I got an idea. We don’t talk to each other,” said Dean.

“Fine with me.”

12 Hours Later

The light in the window bay was dimmer as only one woman sat behind a desk outside. It was late and you figured most people were gone home. Or they’d listened to Dean’s complaints to give the two of you at least a little privacy. He was laying on one of the hospital beds, tossing a ball against the far wall and catching it. You couldn’t stop pacing the room though, couldn’t get yourself to relax.

“You’re not claustrophobic. Why are you freaking out?” he asked without looking at you.

“Maybe because I potentially have a horrifying disease with no cure and am going to die very painfully,” you said.

“You always worried too much,” said Dean, tossing the ball over your head as you walked past.

“You were the worrier, not me,” you said.

“What were you doing up on the fifth floor anyways?” asked Dean, pausing when you didn’t answer. “You weren’t...coming to see me, were you?”

“As if. Coffee machine on fourth was broken,” you said. “No one ever goes to the doctors lounge on fifth so-“

“So that’s how we both got exposed to the lab accident down the hall,” he said, tossing the ball again. “Why don’t those assholes have to be stuck in here?”

“They were wearing suits and are being monitored at a secondary location,” said the woman over the intercom, both of you jumping.

“Eavesdropping much? So what, are we in the dying room?” asked Dean. The woman gave Dean a long look before she flipped off a switch, the intercom quiet again. “Well that answered that question.”

“What? You aren’t afraid?” you asked Dean.

“Not really,” he said. “I’m exposed to crap everyday and I never so much as get a cold. I’ll take my chances that I’ll be just fine.”

“So...you seeing anyone?” you said. Dean narrowed his eyes. “Or should I say, sleeping with anyone?”

“I can sleep with whoever I want,” he said.

“Sure. Just this time, make sure not to cheat on the poor girl,” you said.

“Is that why we broke up? You actually think I cheated on you?” he asked as he sat up. “I remember trying to talk to you about it but you just left, moved out while I was at work, never said a word to me again.”

“I knew you’d lie,” you said.

“You’re so fucking dumb. It’s a good thing we did end things,” he said.

“Don’t be mad because you got caught,” you said.

“Sure, whatever. I’m a cheater,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t try to talk to me about it or anything.”

“I saw the texts, idiot,” you spat back.

“I was planning a fucking surprise for you, idiot,” growled Dean.

“A fancy restaurant and hotel room? What, the ‘I’m dumping you for another woman’ surprise?” you scoffed.

“More like the ‘can my friend put that crap on her credit card so you don’t find out’ surprise,” he said.

“Nice excuse,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he said.

“Yeah. I totally see why you would suddenly start acting shady and have other women buy hotel rooms for you,” you said.

“I was gonna ask you to marry me you dumbass. I was going to surprise you, go way overboard and all that romantic shit. But I guess I’m just some cheating scumbag that was wrong about the kind of woman I wanted to marry if she wouldn’t even talk to me about it,” he said.

You swallowed hard, staring at him.

“Oh? Got nothing to say?” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” you said.

“Why did you assume I was a bad guy? You didn’t let me explain,” he said.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, plopping down on the mattress with your back to him.

You woke up with a headache, Dean quietly reading for most of the morning. By lunch you felt sweaty and were making excuses to run to the bathroom.

“Hey,” said Dean, making you jump in the shower when he came inside.

“What?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself. You peered around the shower wall at him, Dean closing the door behind him.

“You’re sick,” said Dean, reaching a hand out to your forehead.

“Don’t touch me. I might kill you,” you said, turning away.

“You aren’t that kind of sick. You’re anxious and it’s making you feel crappy which isn’t good for your immune system and considering our situation, that needs to be in working order,” he said. “We stow our crap for now, be civil.”

“I’m mad at me, not you,” you said.

“Well ease up before you actually get sick,” said Dean.

“We have worked in the same hospital for the past six months and you never once thought about coming to me?” you asked.

“I thought about it but...I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I was trying to respect it,” he said.

“You were gonna marry me?” you asked.

“Maybe it’s better this happened. We realized the kind of people we are,” he said.

“Yeah. I’m an idiot,” you said, resting your head against the shower wall.

“Even if you thought I lied, why didn’t you say something?” he asked.

“Dean-”

“You literally can’t run away from this conversation,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the door. “Talk.”

“Heather’s...pretty,” you said with a shrug. “I figured you were bored with me and wanted someone...better.”

“Heather is my friend and that is all she is,” said Dean. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t want you to humiliate me, alright? Everyone already knows I dropped out of the residency program because I couldn’t hack it. If you cheated on me with the pretty girl in our year too…” you said, cursing to yourself. “I wound up becoming a nurse. I couldn’t even-”

“Hey. A patient attacked you when your resident didn’t say anything about him being a psych case. Everyone understood when you didn’t want to be in med school anymore,” said Dean.

“Leave me alone, Dean. Please.”

Three Days Later

You were physically feeling better, the doctors saying that five days with no strange tests results yet was a good sign. But you were still stuck with Dean and he was doing his best to get you to talk again.

“I would never cheat on you, you know. I was yours til the day I died,” said Dean. “You just left.”

“I know that, Dean,” you gritted out, squeezing your stress ball for the millionth time that day.

“I can’t get over the fact you thought I cheated,” he said.

“Oh yeah. Well, you’re only a top surgical student and handsome and smart and funny and a bunch of other shit and we both know you settled for me because your mom was hounding you,” you said.

“You really think I thought so little of you?” he said.

“I think I’m stuck in here with you and I want to be on the other side of the planet right about now,” you said.

“You’ve thought I cheated on you for sixth months,” he said. “I know how you can twist things and let them get to you. I bet that one took the cake.”

“Just stop talking. Please,” you said, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it was easier to think it was your fault but it wasn’t, it was mine and on top of still not knowing if I’m going to die, I have all that guilt suddenly on me so I’m sorry I’m not in a chatty mood,” you said, curling up into a ball.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

“No,” you shot back, knowing you were two seconds from losing it. You swore you’d never cry over him again. But you felt a shudder run through you and then you were burying your face in your pillow, trying to take deep breaths.

“Y/N,” said Dean, a hand suddenly on your back. “It’s alright. I’ll shut up about it.”

“You never could stand it when I cried,” you said, wiping your face off. The bed dipped behind you, Dean’s back pressing up against yours.

“Well we both fucked up. I can’t be pissed at you for not talking to me when I gave up on trying to talk too,” he said, rubbing the spot between your shoulder blades.

“Don’t make me feel better,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you can’t be so forgiving,” you said.

“There you go, assuming things about me again,” he said but there was no malice in it. Neither one of you said anything more until they started to dim the lights out in the hall. Dean went back to his own bed but he let you have his extra blanket, something he used to do when you were having bad days.

You sighed as you curled up into the thing, willing yourself to sleep.

“Have you been on a date since…” said Dean, tossing the ball to you from the other side of the room the next day.

“Nope. You?” you asked.

“Nope. Hard to find someone willing to deal with random shifts and my unique personality features,” he said. You laughed as you threw the ball back, Dean smiling.

“Unique personality features. I like that,” you said.

“Beats labeling yourself as a self-depreciator,” he said. “Girls aren’t attracted to that.”

“You beat yourself up too much,” you said.

“That’s something we always had in common,” he said. “Never seemed to scare you away though.”

“I see something in you that you can’t. Stuff you hate, I like,” you said with a shrug.

“I lost a patient a few months back. I could have really used you around,” said Dean after a moment.

“My dog died. Well, my parents dog,” you said.

“Skippy? You loved that dog,” he said.

“What are we doing Dean? We aren’t a couple anymore,” you said.

“Maybe we can try being friends again,” he said. “If I end up dying, I’d rather do it knowing we were friends again.”

“I thought you said you weren’t scared,” you said.

“I lied,” said Dean, tossing the ball back to you. “Friends?”

“No. I don’t deserve that,” you said.

“I thought I was the self-depreciating one,” he said. “Come on.”

“Okay,” you said, rolling over on your bed to face him. He gave you a smile from his own, your eyes shutting after a minute. “You know the patient wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s my job to save ‘em,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about work. Hey, did you ever go to Europe during the summer like you were planning?”

“No. I didn’t want to go,” you said.

“You were so excited though. What happened?” he asked.

“I was so excited to go with you. I never made reservations, just went home to my parents for a week instead,” you said.

“I’m leaving the hospital,” said Dean. You opened your eyes, Dean’s hair falling down over his forehead where it was jammed against the pillow. “Going to do a family practice. One of the docs over there retired and it being a family practice and all that, the benefits from the state, they pretty much pay your student loan off for you. They need more of ‘em. Plus there’s less stress, normal work hours...there’s an opening for a nurse there too. I was thinking of recommending this chick.”

“Who?” you asked.

“Who do you think?” he said. “You hated night shifts from day one of med school. What’s the harm?”

“Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“Slow. We can’t…we need to try and be friends first,” you said.

“Alright and we can be work friends too. We live, promise you’ll consider it,” he said.

“I promise,” you said.

“Okay. I can live with that.”

Three Weeks Later

“Dr. Winchester,” said Sally who’d been showing you around the office. “This is nurse Y/L/N. Today’s her first day. Dr. Winchester just started earlier this week.”

“Dr. Winchester hates being called doctor, don’t you,” you said with a smile.

“I keep telling Sally that but she don’t listen,” teased Dean. “Y/N and I go way back.”

“Oh really? That’s great. Dean you mind showing Y/N around the rest of the way? I got a toddler in three waiting for a lollipop,” said Sally.

“Sure thing,” said Dean, smiling at you once she took off. “So...glad to still see you around and kicking.”

“We both got clean bills of health. They said it was stress that made me feel crappy during it,” you said, Dean humming. “You uh, like it here?”

“Yeah. There’s not that competition bullshit we dealt with. No cliques and we all get to go home everyday at 4:30. It’s awesome,” he said.

“Wow, eight hour days. Not sure what’ll you do with having a life again,” you teased.

“Was thinking of asking this nurse if she wanted to come over for dinner tonight,” he said. You stared at him, Dean smiling. “I got your favorite pasta.”

“I thought we said friends,” you said.

“Yeah well I changed my mind. I was dumb, you were dumb. We didn’t talk and I’m not throwing away the best thing that ever happened to me over a misunderstanding. I’m not ready to be proposing right now but give me a few months. I just want to make you dinner again,” he said.

“I don’t know if I trust myself not to hurt you like that again,” you said.

“I trust you. Please. One date,” he said.

“...You get those breadsticks too?” you asked.

“Duh,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“Alright. Six?” you asked.

“It’s a date, sweetheart.”

#spngenrebingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #one shot #dean fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester one shot #dean one shot #supernatural reader insert #au #doctor!dean #doctor!dean x reader

[tomthesoftie]

I love Mob! Tom too much. and I would like to see Reader and Tom as a couple but Tom doesn't know anything about Reader's past because she has lost her memory. and as they are a couple, Reader is Tom's weak point so his enemies try to capture her but she has reflexes to defend herself from before she loses her memory because she was a contract killer, if that's ok with you

at peace

a/n: this was hella darker than i planned, as well as longer... so i didn’t make this fluffy at all, it’s just straight up angst, heavy angst,,, also i wrote this at like 2-4 am so sorry if it gets kind of confusing, i’ll reread it tomorrow... enjoy xx

warnings: heavy angst, wiped memory, major character death, sacrifice

masterlist                     prompt list

You walked into the dark room, senses heightened. A pulsing ringed in your ears as you looked around.

“Hello?” You said, hand gripping on your gun. The sound of someone running didn’t go by you. You snapped your head in the direction it came from. “Who’s there?” Your gun was out of its holster, pointing into the darkness. “Show yourself.”

A figure tried to grab you but you easily dodged their attempt. You punched your target in the gut, causing them to keel over. In their vulnerability, you grabbed their arm and twisted it behind their back. They groaned in pain as you dug your gun into their temple.

“Who do you work for? What was your plan?” You asked, adding more pressure on the gun with each question.

The man grunted and struggled in your grip. He didn’t reply, only kept yelping and mumbling “bitch” or “motherfucker.”

“Answer me!”

“This is our plan,” a deep voice roared behind you.

Then, everything went black.

You shot up in the bed, breath heaving. Sweat was dripping down your forehead. You looked around, but you were still in Tom’s room, snuggled in the blankets of his bed. The space beside you was empty but a dent lingered on the mattress where Tom slept. He had already gone to his office, like always.

What was that dream you just had? Why was it so familiar? And why did it feel so real?

You shrugged off the dream, knowing it couldn’t’ve been real. You haven’t the skill to fight that you had whilst attacking the stranger. You assumed it came from dating Tom and watching action movies. 

You walked out of the mobster’s mansion, into the garden in the backyard. You walked through the vibrant flowers, feeding them with freshwater you’d gotten from the kitchen. Birds chirped happily around you, singing you a welcoming morning song. They’d practically became your friends. You felt like Cinderella, excluding all the labor and step family, whenever you came to the garden. 

You’ve had nothing to do since Tom restricted you from leaving the property. He’d told you someone was coming for you, saying that you were his biggest weakness. He even told you to cut off all communications with friends and family, keeping them off the radar. You couldn’t refuse, besides, you wouldn’t try to anyways.

You skipped and twirled on the dirt trail, humming a quiet tune. You basked in the sunlight and the butterflies fluttered around you. You were nearing the mansion once more. The butterflies and birds had gone away, leaving you in solitude. 

There was silence. It was a familiar silence. Your senses heightened. You could feel that something was off. A deep voice softly spoke to another from behind you. You knew that voice from somewhere, you’ve heard it before. You gripped your metal watering can. Something about your grip felt routine.

You heard the grass rustle and you moved ahead. You knew that if you were closer to the house, you’d be able to get help faster.

Help. Where did all the mobster’s men go? You were the only one outside. There was definitely something wrong.

You felt the warmth a someone’s hand hovering over your shoulder. You gripped it, kicking them in the gut. You turned to see a tall man. Even bent over, he was still taller than you. A wave of fear washed over you, telling you to run but your body moved on its own. You continued to punch the man on the side of his head, hitting a specific point to knock him out. The sound of his head slamming onto the ground didn’t faze you as you prepared to attack the larger, scruffier looking man.

“A failure. Even with your memory wiped he can’t beat you,” the familiar voice said, appearing from the shadows.

The ringing of a gunshot filled your ears. You didn’t flinch or wince. You were still. Something took over you. Memories started flooding back into your mind, one by one. There were images of life before your memory had been taken. Everything fit together perfectly now. You hadn’t met Tom in a coffee shop. He saved you. He saved you from this man standing ahead of you now.

“What do you want from me?” You growled.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you. More precisely, I want to kill you,” he said, pointing the gun at you.

“Was I hired to kill someone that you knew?”

“No, buttercup. You are precious. At least Mr. Tommy thinks you are,” he grinned at you sickly.

“But you wiped my memory before I even knew him,” you stated.

“I didn’t, but he did.”

“What?” You were confused. How did Tom know you before he saved you?

“He watched you everyday for every hour. He found your work inspiring and motivating. Let’s just say he fancied you from the very beginning.”

Without a word, you dashed towards the man, attacking him at every angle. He was able to predict every move and was left completely unharmed when you pulled away.

“Don’t just stand there! Fight back,” you shouted, furious.

He raised his gun, pointing it straight at you. This wasn’t anything new for you. You were trained for these situations.

Building up speed, you ran towards him, swerving so that he couldn’t shoot you. You jumped, climbing to his neck. Your legs wrapped around his neck and elbow knocked his head. He visibly loosened his grip on the gun, and you pounced at the opportunity. 

You stood ahead of the man, safety off, finger ready to pull the trigger.

“I will do it,” you said, a fire burning in your eyes. “You took my memory, my passion away from me. I’m going to avenge myself,” you seethed. He fidgeted, “Hands where I can see them.” His hands shot right up. “I could kill you right now; take back what everything I’ve missed. This can be practice before I go back to the field.”

“Darling?” Your boyfriend’s voice penetrated your glowing red ears. 

You didn’t reply. You were radiating with anger and hatred. You felt powerful, though. The fate of this man’s life was in your hands.

“Y/N/N,” Tom placed a hand on your shoulder, “I can do this.”

You shrugged off his hand, only seeing red. Your breathes were deeper, heaving your chest up and down. Your teeth grinding, you were itching to pull the trigger.

“You deserve to suffer,” you cackled.

The man’s expression was practically begging for you to let him go or make his death fast and painless. 

“Y/N,” Tom spoke up again.

“No! He’s mine to get rid of,” you snapped.

“We need to interrogate him. He’ll give us the answers we need,” the mobster tried.

“What questions? All of them are answered. Aren’t they, Tom?” Your gaze switched to the brunette. “Or are you hiding something from me? Something important?”

The mobster’s men took the burly man captive, leaving you and Tom to sort out your business.

“What d’you mean hiding something from you? I told you the truth about everything.”

“I don’t remember meeting you at a coffee shop,” you glared at him.

“What? Of course we did. How else would I’ve met you? Your memory can’t be trusted, darling. You were wiped, remember?” A stern look rested on his face.

“Oh, how could I forget? But not to worry, it’s back now,” you sneered, “You stalked me?”

“Stalked isn’t the word I’d use, more so observed and protected,” he stated.

You laughed darkly, “I don’t need protecting. I’m a contracted killer, Tom. Get that in your head. Besides, you did a shit job of protecting me, or maybe this was your plan all along. You wanted to take me as your own, so you wiped my memory and told me we were in love.”

“I would never do that, darling. That’s completely absurd,” his brows furrowed, “now please, let’s go back home. We need to pay even closer attention to any intruders.”

You pointed the gun at him, “No. I don’t need your protection. Not anymore, at least.”

“I’d put that down if I were you,” he finally realized you weren’t the same old you anymore; he’d have to put up a fight no matter what.

“What are you gonna do? Shoot me,” you said innocently. You snorted, “Doubt it.”

“I will do it,” he said darkly, the love in his eyes gone.

“Who goes first?” You asked childishly. Before he could reply, you pipped, “Oh, I’ll do it.”

The loud banging of a gunshot rang louder than normal. Time seemed to slow. The birds chirped in a sad tune while the butterflies lined on the branches of your favorite tree. You smiled at them. They replied by gently flapping their wings. You reveled in the sense of peace. You laughed and laughed, remembering your shot, a feeling of victory coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, love!” Tom rushed to your side, clutching your body before it hit the ground. “You’ve gotta stay with me. Fuck, there’s too much blood.”

You smiled lazily at the boy, dropping the gun to the ground. You felt the blood warming your body. Your vision became hazier and everything around you seemed so serene.

“It’s alright, Tommy, no more weaknesses now,” you managed to whisper.

You were numb with love. Everything good in your life rushed into your mind. You felt lighter. Finally, you were freed from your everlasting torture. No one to kill, to run from, to weaken. The birds chirped their welcoming morning song, leading you into the whiteness. You silently thank them, eyes starting to flutter shut.

“I-I lo-love yo--”

Warm. Cold. Peace. Anger. Content. Sad. Two different worlds, two different emotional states. Maybe sacrifice is for the better. 

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tomholland #tomhollandimagine #tomhollandfanfiction #tomhollandangst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader imagines #tom holland x reader imagine #tom holland x reader angst #Mob!Tom #mob!tom x reader #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland angst #angst #au #mobster

[breaking-shadows]

Breaking Shadows

Chapter 2

The angel left promising he would return soon. He left me alone, with my grandmother very much alive and her soul intact. 

I looked at the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall. It had been intricately carved to tell the story of Hansel and Gretel. Creepy, for a witch. The devious children who ate a witch out of house and home and then murdered her for all her generosity. 

The hands read nearly four-fifteen. 

I imagined sinking into the soft mattress of my bed and curling up in the duvet, but if that happened, I’d be there for the duration. I fell asleep on the sofa, wrapped in a dressing gown, to the low hum of the TV. 

The light of breaking dawn woke me before half six.

“Officers attended the scene in Cullfield, a suburb of New York City...”

I peeled open an eyelid. The TV continued to play to itself, showing American-looking police standing by a strip of bright yellow tape. 

“...the whole town was found massacred in what eyewitnesses have described as a bloodbath.”

Bolting upright, I grappled for the remote to turn the volume up, heart hammering against my ribcage. 

“Police have appealed for witnesses and urge neighbouring towns to be vigilant. We’ll have more on this breaking story as the information comes through. Now, here’s the news wherever you are.” The opening credits rolled for the local news. 

Footsteps sounded on the floorboards above. Gran was up. She must be feeling better. I switched off the TV and raced upstairs. 

“Gran!” I called. “Gran!”

I caught her leaving my room, eyes puffy and red-ringed, skin grey. The soft grey curls framing her face were wild. She gave a gasp, sucking the air from the room and fell back against the door. 

My feet stalled on the top step. “Are you okay?”

Her mouth bobbed struggling to form words that wouldn’t come. 

“Gran?” 

“Oh my – Riley!” she crossed the few steps between us and wrapped me in her arms, the scent of lavender triggering a dormant headache. One of her hands went to my hair, pulling my head towards her shoulder. Over and over she whispered my name.

Then she pushed me away, holding me at arm’s length. Withered hands cupped my face, her thumbs making downward strokes with her thumbs. She laughed through her tears. 

“What did you want me for?”

“Are we not going to talk about this?”

Gran released my face to wipe her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffing away the tears as though they’d never been. “There’s nothing to talk about, Riley. I’m  tired, I must not have recovered as much as I’d thought.”

I wanted to tell her she’d be fine, that the illness wouldn’t be rearing its ugly head again, but then she’d want to know why. Even I wasn’t proud about how I’d gone about it, but seeing Gran like this again, well enough to be on her feet or nearly tumbling from them… I’d made the right choice. 

“Once more then, what did you want me for?”

What did I want her for? “The news. On the news, there’s something about a massacre in a town on the outskirts of New York. From the sounds of it, it seems like the whole town. I didn’t know if it merited checking out. It could be a coven.”

Gran looked thoughtful. “It’s possible. I have a meeting with our coven this morning, I will raise it, contact other covens there. Even if it wasn’t a coven, something like that may require investigation. Can you remember the name of the place?”

“No, I can’t. But it must be all over the news.”

A weak smile crossed Gran’s face, the one she gave me when I wasn’t being helpful. 

“Do you need me to come?”

“Ha! Don’t think you’re getting out of your studies that easily. Talking about school, unless you get a move on, you’re going to be late.”

“Fine. Am I still okay to go out tonight?”

Gran cupped my face in her hands. “Of course, of course. Go Riley, and live.”

I took a swig from the bottle in my hand, grimacing at the bitter taste. The shaped glass knocked against my teeth. Something had been off with Gran. Yes, she’d been ill, so ill I’d made a deal with a servant of death to save her soul. But still – 

“God Riley. You’re quiet. You’re here now, you might as well enjoy it.” Kat knelt on the blanket beside me. 

I could smell it as soon as Kat sat down, the stench of stale smoke burning my nostrils. “Please tell me you haven’t been smoking,” I coughed, wafting the fumes away with my hand. 

“Of course, I haven’t,” she said before diving into her bag. She plucked out a shocking pink aerosol can and sprayed it all over herself with a few squirts in the air for good measure. “Simon insists he won’t stop though, so until Channing Tatum becomes available, I’m sticking with him. Anyway, back to you, what’s up?”

I balanced the almost full bottle in the grass, the contents settling uneasily in my stomach. Once again, it would be easier to tell the truth. Although confessing to be a witch would throw up more questions than answers for Kat, and Gran would surely kill me for divulging our secrets. 

“I told you earlier I was tired, I didn’t sleep well.” Striking a deal with an angel in the early hours of the morning proved to be more time-consuming that I’d originally planned. 

“You’re seventeen,” Kat yawned. “You should be able to stay up all night and not feel its effects. But if you’re feeling shit, why don’t we find something to put a smile on your face? Where’s Will?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t seen him for a while. The last time I did, he was fighting his way to the front of the crowd.” I bobbed my head towards the fifty-deep crowd who were dancing and swaying in ways unsuited to the heavy metal band rocking it out on stage. 

Kat had spent weeks talking about this clandestine festival. She’d had to sneak out under the hooked nose of her strict mother, and I felt guilty for spoiling it. Now, with my ears ringing because of the constant din, I wished I’d stuck to the lie I’d tried after lunch. My boyfriend had barely looked at me, never mind spent any time with me, and I found myself disturbed by fleeting thoughts of the angel in Will’s absence. 

Smoke gathered, seeping into my pores choking my lungs. Makeshift fire pits sprang up everywhere in the clearing in the middle of Derwent Woods. Uneasiness prickled my skin. As a water witch, fire put me on edge, and probably affected me more than any of the nemocanes in attendance. Nemocanes were non-witches, those without power. 

“Do you want to go find him?” Kat tilted her head and fluttered her fake eyelashes. 

I’d known her long enough to know she wasn’t asking and before I knew it, Kat had pulled me to my feet. “Come on, let’s see if we can get Will to put a smile on your face. If anyone can, I’m sure it’s him.”

We delved deeper through the crowd, ducking, and weaving through twisting bodies and flailing arms, some of which smacked me straight in the face. The stench was almost unbearable, cheap perfume, the musty smell of beer all mixed in with sweat and smoke. 

“I can’t see them, can you?”

“They’ve got to be here somewhere,” said Kat. She craned her neck to scan the crowd. “Tell you what, if you go to the right, I’ll go this way, and we’ll send the other a text if we find them. Okay? Great.”

“Kat, wait!” But the mass of bodies had already swallowed my friend, bottles of alcohol raised in the air, the crowd singing as loud as their voices would let them. 

Fighting my way in the direction Kat told me to go, I was confronted by one unfamiliar face after another. They swam before my eyes and merged into one continuous blur. Heat rose in my face. Sweat coated my forehead, droplets running down the length of my neck. I tugged at the stiff collar of my denim jacket, but the more I did, the more it closed around my neck like a vice.

More limbs struck.

The fire was overwhelming.

I fought for air. 

My hand raced around my neck in a frantic motion. The contents of dancing bottles dripped down onto my hair and face. Gran would think I’d drank a brewery. 

I forced my way to the back of the crowd, pushing through people as though they were water and I was desperate for the shore. Breaking out into the open, I inhaled as much fresh air as I could, letting the space subdue the rising panic within. 

The constant roar of the band was the only reminder of where I was and the only thing stopping me from falling to my knees and making a spectacle of myself before most of the year twelve and thirteens. 

A glint of white flashed through the trees ahead.

Then another.

My blood turned to stone. 

Then a hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I spun, blood throbbing.

“Where have you been?”

“Nowhere.”

I looked back towards the treeline. 

“You okay? Riley?” Kat’s voice was muffled and far away. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I’m not sure I haven’t,” I mumbled. 

“What? Doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ve found the boys.” Grabbing hold of my wrist, Kat pulled me through the crowd where I couldn’t help but look back.

Ghosts – a definite possibility and harmless in most cases. Demon – more likely and more deadly. I looked around at all those gathered. Shit, so many. It would be a bloodbath. 

“Here they are,” Kat thrust me forward. 

Will and Simon had worked their way right to the front. Lyrics flew from their mouths delivered out of tune between swigs of beer. As soon as Will’s eyes found mine, he stumbled to me with a lopsided grin on his handsome face. I felt a pang in my stomach as another face popped into my head.

Mentally, I told it to piss off. 

“W-w-where have you been?” he slurred. His hands were all over my back, moving lower and lower. Will leaned in read to place a kiss on my lips. Reaching back, I stopped his hands travelling further but welcomed the kiss I’d waited all night for. 

Despite tasting that wretched alcohol, my heart leapt. Worries of dangers lurking beyond the trees evaporated. I’d probably imagined it anyway. Reaching up, I ran my hand through his short dirty-blond hair. 

“We need more time together,” he said, lips pressing against my ear. “Alone.”

I tensed. The meaning was as clear as ringing bells and set in my insides like concrete. I plastered a smile on my face. After all, it was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Having pined for him for the last four years with not one sign I was even on his radar, I was determined to make the most of being his. 

Somewhere, screams pierced the deafening music. 

“What was that?” Will asked, pulling away. 

I ignored him. With my body as still as stone, I looked to see what had caused panic to roll through the crowd. People fled in all directions, frantic limbs flying. I’d stood still long enough to feel the loss of Will’s body heat and watch him leave to join the dispersing group. 

Nausea surged when I realised they were running away from the treeline where I thought I’d glimpsed something other. 

Shit. 

The music cut off and a loud crash sounded as the musicians abandoned their instruments. 

“Will? Kat? I spun on the spot desperately trying to find my friends. I battled against the onslaught of bodies, the only one going towards what made everyone else flee. 

The screaming was terrible. It punctured my mind until I couldn’t think straight.  A tall blur of blond hair and white t-shirt barged my shoulder and knocked me to the ground, not bothering to stop. I hissed at the sharp pain in my hands. Lifting them from the grassy field, thick blood trickled from a jagged wound across my palm. The fragmented remains of a glass bottle lay hidden in the glass coated in my blood. Black in the moonlight, the droplets slid down my hand and into the grass. 

Shadows emerged from the trees, the stark darkness of the woods bleeding into the clearing. They moved in quick, sharp jerks barely touching the ground with their stick-like limbs. The only creatures I had ever seen scurry like that were spiders. 

Demons. But what kind, I didn’t know, had never encountered them in any of my witch studies. My pulse drummed in my ears as all other sounds died. They drew closer, the pale white of their skin stretching over thin, sharp bones like a translucent film. Two pointed pincers bulged out of the side of their head and around the front of their faces. Fire danced in their feline-like eyes. 

The only one left in the clearing, I pushed myself back onto my feet. Only me and a dozen of these things. I grimaced at the throbbing in my hand, and took calculated steps towards the demons, taking care not to trip over the abandoned debris strewn over the grass. 

There were seconds left before they reached me. Would flooding the clearing work? Should I send out a jet of water to blast them back? Quick. Decide. 

“Are you going to make a half-arsed attempt to get away or just let them kill you?”

I whirled on the familiar voice to find the angel standing there. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving you.”

The untamed black hair grazed his shoulders. He held my gaze steady and sure, his lips slightly parted. Something registered on his face and a darkness bloomed in his widening eyes burning with such intensity that the night sky with all its stars and wonders paled in comparison. 

I blinked the image of him away and clicked my tongue. “Save yourself.” With that, I sent three demons skittling with a low jet of water. 

“There’s too many of them, we’ll never make it. Come on,” Rafe reached back and grabbed my wrist to pull me with him.

Not that I wanted to admit it, but he was right. We barrelled across the grass heading for the stage. My much shorter legs struggled to keep up with his longer strides. Even in frantic escape mode, Rafe moved with grace while all my energy was spent trying to stay upright. 

He glanced over his shoulder. “They’re gaining on us. Hurry!”

“Can’t you sprout your wings and fly us out of here?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I’ll explain if we survive this.” 

I groaned as he increased his speed dragging me with him, my thighs and calves burning. 

“I need to get to the coven.”

Each penetrating stab reverberated across the ground, and the closer they got, the more their screeched pierced my ear drums. Rafe stopped when we reached a black and silver motorcycle propped up by a short leg at the side of the stage. 

“Hop on,” he said, throwing his leg over. With a kick of his boot, the leg flicked up and the engine roared into life. He looked at me once more. “What are you waiting for?”

“There isn’t a helmet,” I hesitated. 

Dark amusement flickered in his eyes. “Seriously? We’re getting chased by demons who I know want to kill us and you’re worried about where the helmet is.”

I could have explained. I could have told him why the sheer thought of getting on that bike was giving me palpitations and shortening my breath. But I didn’t.

“Safety first,” was all I said. 

“Get on the bike, Riley.”

I stopped myself throwing up. “If we die now, I’m betting it’s down to a lack of safety equipment and not shiny demons with excellent cheekbones.” I hitched up my long skirt and jumped on. At first, I didn’t know where to place my hands and settled on the thin strip of leather between us. 

“Here,” he reached round, grabbed both my hands, and pulled them around his waist. My injured hang stung. My chest crashed into the solid wall of his back.

“I need you to hold on,” he shouted over the noise of the engine. 

Gripping tighter, I brushed the contours of his stomach muscles. Heat bloomed on my cheeks and I was thankful he couldn’t see the fire in my face.

We sped away and the creatures gave chase. 

“Head for Valestone,” I called. “We’ll be safe there.”

Rafe drove straight into the forest. I wondered if he hoped the trees would act as an obstacle to slow the creatures down. Derwent Forest was thick and known for the dense canopy capable of blocking most rays. Especially now, as midnight fast approached, everywhere was black except for the small distance illuminated by the bike’s headlamp and the smouldering fires left in the clearing. 

“Do you know what those things are?”

“Arachna demons. Half human and half spider. All of them female.”

“They can’t be.”

“Female or demons? Hang on!” he steered left, avoiding a row of tree trunks. The bike weaved in and out of trees effortlessly navigating root laden paths as though he’d driven this way a thousand times. 

Daring to look back, my loose hair lashed my face like gilded whips. Somehow, my faux daisy headband stayed in place. A good thing for Rafe because if it flew off, I’d make him go back for it. Demons be damned. 

“They’re getting closer!”

“They can’t move that quick. These are new ones emerging from the undergrowth.”

My head snapped back to him. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“None of this is about making you feel better,” he called back, swerving again. 

We hit an emerging root. My hands wrapped tighter around him to stop myself from falling off, but he jumped the bike and landed them back on the ground on the other side. 

“You okay back there?”

“Yes,” I said into the rushing wind. It whistled as it sailed by my ear.

A volcano of dirt and greenery erupted ahead. Rafe jammed on the brakes and skidded, landing at an angle. Two white pincers grappled out of the ground. He paused for a beat before flying off in the direction we faced.  

“Not much further now,” he called back. 

In the distance, the shadows of the forest faded paling to navy blue and lighter still as we neared the edge of the forest. I felt easier knowing we would soon be out. I’d have to wake my grandmother and summon the coven to deal with the demons – Arachna, Rafe called them. How strange I’d never heard of them before. 

We broke out of the boundary of the forest and slammed into the village. The closed lichgate of our village’s Norman church lay ahead, the church on our right, silhouetted against the sky. The interior was nothing more than an illusion created for any tourists making their way to Valestone or visitors from nearby towns. Witches in our coven could see through the magic veil like it was a splash of oil in a puddle. 

I gave a little yelp as Rafe spun the bike, landing parallel to the forest with the church behind us. He twisted the key and the noise died. 

“Well that’s something new,” he stared up at the sky, scanning across the span of the village. 

Following his gaze, I smiled, knowing what had piqued his interest. “It’s a protection dome for the coven. Powered by the High Witch.” When I spoke, my head felt like it was submerged in water, my words muffled, and ears blocked. 

And still the creatures came, their skin shining like a pearl in the moonlight.

“Here they come.”

One creature placed a pincer across the boundary marked by a row of uniform trees. As soon as they did, electric flashes surged up the offending limb until it covered the whole demon. It crackled, steam rising high before its body went limp and slumped to the ground, lifeless. Two other demons scurried up to the dead body, trying to nudge it alive with a pincer but when it didn’t move, they retreated in a hurry taking the whole horde with them.

“Nothing that intends harm can enter.”

“Impressive. I might need a word with your High Witch.”

I dismounted; my attention fixed on the smouldering mass of flesh. “I’m not so sure about that,” I said absently. “A servant of death seeking her out about a protection dome might freak her out.”

“Point taken.”

I turned to smile at Rafe. “Nice bike.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and threw his leg over the motorcycle to stand next to me. 

“Yeah, it’s not mine. Some idiot left it next to the stage with keys in the ignition. An idiot I’m very grateful to, but I’m just going to leave it here. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes. I’m going to wake my grandmother with the wonderful news that half of the neighbouring town have witnessed and were nearly eaten by demons. Some possibly eaten if I don’t get a move on.” I studied the gash across my palm, flecks of dried blood formed a boundary around the open wound. 

“Are you hurt?”

I snatched it away, hiding it by my side. “Just a little scratch.”

“Show me.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Rafe sighed and held an upturned hand. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation in my mind and before I knew it, he was cradling my hand in his almost reverently as he ran a calloused finger tip down my palm. 

My breath bated. He smelled of soap. Clean, like rolling in freshly washed linen. I couldn’t look at his face. 

“When you get home, I want you to properly clean the wound.”

“My Gran will have a poultice of witch hazel leaves and bark. She’ll sort it.” I would have sworn I saw a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“And I’ll come back tomorrow to heal it when I have my powers back.”

My head snapped up. “What do you mean? Is that why you couldn’t fly? Have you lost your powers?”

“So many questions, little witch.”

I cocked my head to one side silently demanding answers. 

“Angels are given a day off, if you will, every ten thousand souls they collect. Today is mine, but you live the day as a mortal. No powers, no wings.”

“You had a day off and you decided to creep around a teenage party? Not that you look much older than we do…”

At that, Rafe chucked. “Get going, or someone is going to find themselves at the mercy of an Arachna demon.”

“I need my hand back.”

A hint of colour stained his cheeks, but he dropped my hand as though the contact burned him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Rafe nodded in reply. 

I kicked my legs into gear. I made it to the end of the lane before the urge to look back became too much. He should’ve gone, but he was still there, lounging against the stolen bike, watching. 

It took everything I had to move away. 

Chapter 1

#breaking shadows #wip #mywip #young adult #witches #ANGELOFDEATH #rafe #riley

[babbushka]

Santa Baby

Pale (Burn This) x Reader; 2k

                                                      --------------

When Pale comes home, it’s dark in the apartment.

Which makes him frown, not that he wasn’t fuckin’ frownin’ already. But he frowns some more because usually you’re there already, all the lights on, runnin’ up his fuckin’ electric bill. Not that it matters or nothin’, but he’s bangin’ his shin on the couch as he starts rummagin’ for a light switch in the dark.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out, lights up a cigarette and puffs smoke into the air.

Outside the windows there’s snow and frost stickin’ to the glass, a frigid December evening. He came home later than expected, and he feels bad, wonders if you fell asleep.

But then, then somethin’ small and shiny catches his eye. Taped to the bedroom door is a big red bow, the metallic ribbon kind that you always stick on the gifts you give him. He walks over to it in three long strides, sticks the cig between his teeth and notices a sticky note put right underneath the bow.

“Open for a present.” He reads aloud, chuckling to himself.

You’d never really been one for the theatrics, but lately you’d been gettin’ more bold. Pale doesn’t know where the fuck you’re pickin’ it up from, but he takes in a deep excited breath as he turns the door handle and nearly gives himself a nosebleed from the sight before him.

It’s you, laid out real fuckin’ pretty on the bed.

You’re laying on your side, one hand propping your head up, the other lazily draped over your stomach. You’re dressed like a sexy Mrs. Claus, and Pale wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of that mental image, but you’re too fucking sexy so instead he drools, swallows hard.

You’ve got yourself mostly covered up by a red velvet caplet trimmed with white fur, but he can see fishnet stockings on your legs, black heels on your feet. You’re good, too good for him, and he knows this because you don’t have the shoes on the bed, your feet slightly dangling over the edge of the mattress.

“Ho ho holy shit.” He whistles, low and long, stalks towards you fully ready to tear that shit off you and have his way with your body, “What’s all this?”

But you’re quick, and you shift your body around so that you’re sitting up, one leg coming up to press the heel against his chest, to stop him from coming any closer.

The display of dominance has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, because you both know that’s not how he fuckin’ plays, not one bit. But it’s you, and you’ve got a playful look in your eye, and he thinks maybe – just maybe – it’ll be worth it to wait this one out.

“Sit.” You say, voice soft, nudging him with your foot.

He looks behind him and sees that you’ve dragged one of the plush armchairs from the corner of the bedroom, moved it away from the window and instead have it right in the middle of the floor, perfect view of the bed.

Perfect view of you, on the bed.

He caresses a hand up and down your calf, pulls and snaps your stocking against your skin, mouth watering, cock already growing hard.

“Pale, please?” You ask, dropping the overly coy look for something a little more real, fighting a smile in an attempt to be sexy.

He’s gonna have to tell you that even that smile of yours is sexy – especially that smile. But for now, he’s more curious what you’ve got up your sleeve, or, cape.

So he sits, and only once he’s seated do you fish around for the small black remote that turns on the entertainment system in the living room.

It all becomes clear all of a sudden, when the music begins to play. When you set yourself up properly on the bed, snapping your finger and rising to the beat of the music up onto your knees, slowly undoing the buttons that keep the capelet on.

 Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree for me

Been an awful good girl

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

 You toss the velvet across the room, and hidden underneath is a sexy fuckin’ number, a red sheer lil’ something that has Pale twitching in his pants, has him twitching all over.

“I’m gonna die. Is this how I die? You here to kill me?” He asks, interrupting the performance, the song, the show.

“Hush.” You wink, crawling towards the edge of the bed.

You swing your legs over the edge and slowly come to a standing position, shimmying up and down as you step out of your shoes, singing along to Eartha Kitt, your voice sultry and sexy and entirely too intoxicating.

He feels high, is he high?

You only grin.

 Santa baby, a '54 convertible too convertible too, light blue

I'll wait up for you, dear

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

 The urge to shove his hands down his pants is growing stronger and stronger, and he finds himself nearly inhaling the butt of the cigarette when you begin to walk in slow circles around him, standing behind him and leaning over his shoulder, kissing his neck as your hands rub up and down his chest, getting him even more worked up.

You have these real pretty satin gloves on, the kind that go all the way up to your elbows, a deep red to match the whole rest of the getup. You take your time plucking each finger off your hands, pulling the gloves off one after another to the rhythm of the music.

 Think of all the fun I've missed

Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed

Next year I could be also good

If you'll check off my Christmas list

 Just before he thinks you’re gonna jerk him off though, you’re moving around around around him once again, and he lets out a long groan of dismay that has you laughing, biting at your lips and shakin’ your head, your pretty skin glowin’ in the low light of the bedroom.

He’d give you anything, abso-fuckin’-lutely anything in that moment, you know it, he knows it, this display of your assets such sweet torture. You tease him, hover your mouth over his, breath grazing against his lips, and he puckers them just for you, chases your kisses with ones of his own.

You don’t give in to him though, not yet.

 Santa baby, I want a yacht and really that's not a lot

Been an angel all year

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

 The next thing to go in your strip tease is the drapey part of the little babydoll nightgown you’re wearing. It looks like Pale could yank it right off the bra it’s attached to, could tear the fuckin’ fabric right away, and he doesn’t resist now to stroke at his cock as you pop off the sheer thing, let it flutter to the floor.

All you’ve got on left are a bra, panties, and those stockings, and Pale can’t stop chewing his lip. He lets out a slight groan as he works the button and zipper of his jeans open, spits into his hand and fishes out at his cock.

 Santa honey one thing I really do need, the deed

To a platinum mine

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

 You stick one leg up on his thigh where his legs are spread, and he moans softly as he tugs at his cock. Your pussy is right there, fuck it’s so close. He leans forward enough to press his face right up against the red red red lace that’s concealing your cunt, takes in a deep breath. He knows where your clit is, he presses his big fuckin’ nose against it, and you jolt a little.

But your thigh is up there for a reason, and you’re soon unclipping the stockings from the garters that hang down from the sides of your underwear.

He’s transfixed as you roll the fishnet of your left leg down down down, draping it over his shoulder when you’re done.

 Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with a duplex and checks

Sign your 'x' on the line

Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight

 Once the left leg was done, you switch legs and start on your right. He feels guilty for not giving it too much attention, bucking into his fist as he seeks out your cunt again with your other leg now propped up on his other thigh.

You run your fingers through his hair and tug his head back, back back back and away from your pussy, raising an eyebrow, chastising him. He blushes bright fuckin’ red, turns his mouth to catch your wrist with his teeth, presses a wet open mouthed kiss there before you release him.

 Come and trim my Christmas tree

With some decorations bought at Tiffany

I really do believe in you

Let's see if you believe in me

 You turn around so that your back is facing him, and he growls when you unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

He wants to suck and bite at your tits so bad, and he can only speed up up up his hand, can only urge his wrist to go faster as he jerks himself off to the sight of you, of you dancin’ and singin’ all sexy sultry sweet for him. You cross your hands over your tits when you turn back to face him, doing some little shimmy and shake choreography to the music, still snapping your pretty fuckin’ fingers.

He can see your nipple peeking out from where you’re trying to conceal yourself, and he feels like whatever blood that’s left in his brain’s gotta be rushin’ to his dick now, because you’re pulling off your panties, stepping out of them, leaving you completely naked.

 Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring

I don't mean on the phone

Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

 He’s on you as fast as he fucking can be, has you laughing and complaining that he’s ruining the mood of everything as he throws his clothes away, pushes you up the bed.

When he kisses you, he sighs, finally finally finally shoving his tongue into you, arranges your legs real nice so that when he gets positioned just right, when he slides his aching cock into you, the one he’s been edging this whole fuckin’ time – how long was this song? It felt like it went on and on for hours and hours, that’s how desperate he is – he curses long and low.

“You’re so fuckin’ good to me, you know that?” He asks, slidin’ right in, right home, like he’d been aching for all day, all night.

You’d chuckle at him, but you’re too busy moaning, your cunt tight and hot around him, and he thinks damn, you must’ve been real worked up too, bein’ this wet.

He fucks you, right and proper, in the warm safe glow of the bedroom. The candles flicker and the flame crackles in wicks made of wood and the snow whirls around outside, but all of that is drowned out by the sound of your gasps, your chants of his name as his hips work themselves doing everything they were meant to: plowing into you.

Somewhere, out in the living room a million miles away, he can hear the last notes of the song echoing through the apartment. He’ll buy you anything, everything on the list, if you really wanted it. You don’t, not really, and he knows that, knows that it’s just a sexy little song and you’re a sexy little minx.

But still, he would.

For now though, it’s enough that he’s got you under him, got your legs spread and your tongue against his, and for all your pleas to Santa, when you shout out, it’s only ever his name.

 Hurry down the chimney tonight

Hurry, tonight

                                                        -------------

Tagging some Pale lovin’ pals! ;)  @fullofbees @spinebarrel @dreamboatdriver @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem @fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @attorneyl @jedihbic @bens-rose @callmehopeless @formerly-anonhamster @thepilotanon @hippieface @tinyplanet-explorers @satansstrawberry @riseofkylo @whiskey-bumblebee @helloimindelaware @solotriplets @autumnlovesadam​ @magikevalynn​ @scheherazades-horcrux​

#reader insert #pale x reader #pale burn this #burn this broadway #my writing #12DoO #12 days of oneshots #christmas fic #songfic #yeehaw yall i hope you all enjoy #!!! #<3

[spectraspecs-writes]

Korriban - Chapter 89

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 88. Chapter 90.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

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“What do you mean? We have to go see him right now!” Carth objects.

“I get where you’re coming from, Carth, but if he recognizes me and thinks I followed him, we’ll immediately get off on the wrong foot, and he won’t listen to a single thing we have to say.” He scoffs angrily and wipes his face. “You’re a soldier, you’re not used to thinking this way. But I am, I know how to get people to listen to me. You have to trust me on this, Carth.”

He looks at me for a bit, and then he sighs. “I trust you,” he says, “I just don’t like it.”

I pull out my datapad and look at the Academy map. Master Uthar’s room is at the end of the hall. That’s where I’m going. “I’m going to set up the device from Yuthura. Then we can go talk to him. You want to be my lookout?”

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh, “Gives me something to do.”

“You watch the room,” Jolee says, “I’ll watch the hall.”

Got all our bases covered, then. We head out. Jolee posts himself in the hall, watching people go from the rooms to the main chamber where Master Uthar still is. Carth and I head the other way. We pass the hallway where Dustil’s room is, and I gently pull Carth away. At the end of the main hall is Uthar’s room, the only door down this far. It opens with the passcard Yuthura gave me. Carth posts himself outside the door while I go inside. I carefully lift up the mattress on Uthar’s bed and place the device on the frame, where it secures itself. Hard to believe it’s that easy.

There’s a datapad sitting next to Uthar’s bed. I’m willing to bet there’s a lot of information about how to gain prestige on there. I pull out my datapad and set it to interface with any within range. Damn - Uthar has most entries locked. I can only get the last week’s worth of data. Even so, there’s quite a lot of information here for a week’s worth. Some of it is absolutely worthless. Some of it, not so much, even just from a quick perusal. No time to sit here and read the whole thing. I’ve done what I came here to do, I should leave. I lock the door behind me, still reading the contents of the scan. There’s an entry on - 

“Dustil.” Carth leans over my shoulder. “His name’s on there, what are you looking at?”

“I skimmed Uthar’s personal datapad, only got a week’s worth of data. Would you quit reading over my shoulder?” I send to Jolee that we’re finished and he joins us. I tap into the entry, out of my own curiosity, not Carth’s.

“The pupil known as Dustil,” Uthar wrote, “has shown remarkable progress. His talent with the Force is great.” Is that so? Neat. “The same, however, cannot be said for the human female that he arrived with, Selene.” I heard that name in the library, she died recently, in the Valley, Dustil said. “She has little talent. Moreover, Dustil holds a great degree of affection for her.” I thought so. “This is a weakness in the boy and has been slowing down his training. Orders were sent this morning to have the girl removed from the academy and terminated.” A far cry from “killed in the Valley.” “I will tell Dustil that she was killed in the valley. He will forget her soon enough, I think… he is too promising to lose at this juncture."

“Oh, wow,” I say softly. Carth is too focused to hear me.

The door to Dustil’s room is open as he uses his computer terminal. His eyes drift up to me in the doorway and he does a bit of a double take. “You take a wrong turn somewhere?” he asks. His voice even has the same inflections as Carth.

Carth gets a look at him, gaping in shock. “Dustil?”

Dustil is… not pleased, to put it mildly. “Oh, lovely,” he says sarcastically, “It's Father. Figures that you'd show up after all this time.” He looks at me as Carth and I come into the room. Jolee stands outside still. “How did you manage to get inside the academy?”

“Through the front door,” I say reflexively.

“Cute.” Yep, that’s Carth’s son. “I wonder how interested Master Uthar would be to know just who he has in his web. Unless you've switched sides, Father?” Dustil scoffs. “But I doubt that. Just why are you here, Father?” he asks skeptically, “Not for me, I hope. Couldn't you have gotten yourself blown up on some ship and spared us this reunion?” Ouch.

“Dustil, what…?” Carth stammers, “What are you talking about? I… I thought you were dead!”

“Too bad you didn't still think that,” he scoffs, “Or did you really think I would be happy to see you? Look, everyone!” he says sarcastically, “It's Father, come to rescue me at long last! Sure, he may have left Mother and I to die on Telos, but that doesn't matter!”

“No, I didn't abandon you!” Carth protests painfully, “The task force just arrived too late. Telos was in ruins, and your mother… I held her while…” I place my hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he shrugs it off. He doesn’t want to be comforted. “But I looked for you. I swear I looked everywhere --”

“Ah, save it,” Dustil stops him, “You abandoned us long before. We were alone all during the wars, and even once you came back, you still didn't stay.”

“I didn't have a choice! I was needed --”

“Yeah? Well you were needed at home, too!” Dustil interrupts, “You were needed when the bombing started and I got captured!” I can feel his anger rising and when you’re in the room with a Sith, that’s a big problem. They’re known to take their lightsabers out when that happens. I rest my own hand on my lightsaber. I won’t kill Dustil if I don’t have to but I’ll be damned if if he’s going to kill my Bunny Man. But then his anger fades a little, which is weird for a Sith. “You know what? It doesn't matter,” he says, “Not anymore. I have a new family now, a family that cares about me. I don't need you.”

Carth’s heart drops. “The Sith? You can't mean that! No, the Sith killed your mother! The Sith destroyed Telos!”

“So? You're the soldier, father. How many mothers have you killed?” Ouch! Sounds like the Sith added a course in verbal bashing.

Carth doesn’t want to believe a single word of this - I’ve only ever seen him like this when he was yelling at me. “No,” he says, “You've been brainwashed. The son I knew would never --”

“You never knew me!” I draw my lightsaber off my belt but I don’t activate it. His anger is rising again. I don’t like that. “You weren't even there to know me, so don't presume to tell me what I would or wouldn't do!”

“I don’t know what’s been done to you, but you're coming with me out of here. Now.”

Carth reaches out to Dustil, but Dustil backs away and puts his hand on his lightsaber. “Touch me, old man, and I'll kill you!” Carth withdraws. God, I can feel his pain. He feels like hell. “Get out! Get out of here before I tell the Sith that you're here!”

“Calm down, Dustil.” I stay between the two of them. “Carth is only trying to protect you.”

“I don't need his protection!” he exclaims, “Not anymore! The Sith give me everything I need.”

Carth gently shoves me out of the way - gently for an angry Carth, anyway - and I let him. “You can't mean that!” he says, “The Sith are… they're evil! They're the Dark Side. They… they took me away from you and your mother. They're… they're what took you from me!”

“No, they're not evil! They're not! The Dark Side is superior, and you… you were at war long before they came along!”

“The Sith war to conquer, to rule the helpless,” Carth counters, “I went to war for you, Dustil. For your freedom, your future!”

Dustil shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“If I failed you, son, then it's… it's my failure,” Carth says, “Please don't add to it by becoming part of something evil.”

I know how stubborn Carth can be when it comes down to it, so it only makes sense that Dustil would be the same. I can’t imagine who would give in first. “Prove it,” Dustil says, “Prove that the Sith are so evil and I'll… I'll think about it.”

The datapad. I pull it back out. “How about this - you know someone named Selene?”

He stops completely. He didn’t expect me to talk, expected even less for me to mention her name. “Selene?” he repeats softly, “She's the one who convinced me to come to the academy with her. Why?” I pull up the entry and hand my datapad to him. “Where did you get this?” he asks as he reads it.

“I skimmed Master Uthar’s datapad - you can see his data in the file tags,” I say, “You can’t fake that.”

He checks the tags, sees the data. “But…” he says slowly, unable to take his eyes off the datapad, “he told me… he- he said that she'd been lost on a mission in the Valley. This…  this says that they… they killed her…” 

“Because she was hindering your progress,” I finish.

“Superiority at any cost, Dustil,” Carth says, “There's your evil. Or can you live with that?”

“No,” Dustil says, without a moment of hesitation, “No, I can't. I… I had no idea… they lied to me.”

Carth smiles softly. “Well, there's the son I remember,” he says, “Now will you leave here?”

“I… no,” Dustil says, “You go do whatever you have to, father. I… I have some other friends here. I have to warn them what's going on.” He smiles softly at Carth. “And maybe I can, you know, look around here and find out some more information. From the inside. Something that might help you.”

Carth sighs shortly. “I… don't suppose there's any way I could talk you out of that, is there? I mean, you're not going to do anything halfway.” He chuckles. “Sounds familiar.”

“I… guess it does.”

“I'm proud of you, Dustil,” Carth says, “You aren't hanging onto a lie after you see it for what it is. Not everyone could do that.”

Dustil smiles again. “Maybe…” he starts to say, “… after this is over, we can… talk. I'm still not sure about… us, but I'll listen. Maybe we can get back to where we should have been.”

“I’d like that.” Carth eyes are glistening.

Dustil transfers the entry from my datapad to his and hands mine back to me. “I'll go back to Telos when this is over,” he says, “You can find me there. Goodbye… father.” He moves past us out the door and down the hall, moving quickly.

Carth wipes his eyes. “I’m really glad that worked out,” I say.

Carth doesn’t say anything. He looks at me, and he can’t stop smiling. “What?” I ask.

And suddenly he kisses me. Knocks the wind right out of me! Oh, wow! When he breaks he says softly, “Thank you.”

Holy fuck!

#star wars #revanasi #fiction #knights of the old republic #autistic artist #kotor #specs writes stuff #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #ls!revan #carth onasi #dustil onasi #kiss #jolee bindo #slow burn #korriban #uthar wynn #sith academy #chapter 89 #swearing tw

[literaturebyrenwick]

Absolute Dark

Chapter One

I can tell I'm dreaming because Andrew is looking into my eyes & calling my name gently, "…Sabrina…" while we make love. It's a truer method for telling if I'm asleep than pinching myself. I love my boyfriend, but he's not perfect, and clearly my subconscious wants to remind me of this as much as possible.

Something he actually can do, most of the time, is make me cum. Thankfully my dreams give in to my wants here and his blue eyes never leave mine as we finish, sweating and breathing heavily I can barely feel any part of my body, it's all tingles. He pulls out of me and flops over on his side, I find my balled up panties on the far edge of our bed and put them between my legs to at least try and protect the sheets. It's then that I realize I can still hear moaning, I look over to Andrew again, he's fast asleep.

My eyes shoot open and I inhale deeply, as if I were holding a breath. My beautiful king size memory foam mattress and weighted blanket is suddenly cold hard ground and a high-end sleeping bag, which still doesn't compare, I hate sleeping bags and he knows this.

I'm starring at the roof of our tent, through it's screen into the dark, lost in the tree branches waving gently overhead when everything starts coming back to me, we're out in the forest. Andrew is beside me, we're camping, obviously his idea.

"Babe, it's not even far from the nearest town, there's beautiful hiking, we can even rent canoes. It's gonna be amazing, I promise you." I remember that I really don't want to be here despite his best efforts to talk up the idea. All day yesterday we hiked, it was a beautiful hike but it was tainted, I couldn't get her out of my mind and we fought over it again. He swam & I read, we ended the evening too tired to make love. 

At least that's what I told myself. So I look over to Andrew, hoping to seduce him, and I see he's gone, I suppose I had just assumed he was there when I woke up. I wait a few minutes, checking my phone, which of course gets no service. He's taking too long to piss.

Then I remember the moaning, and I realize I still hear it faintly, and sound of friction. There are other girls on this campsite, I get dressed and shoot out of the tent, ready to find Andrew fucking around again. It's very dark, aside from a tent which looks to be about two minutes walking distance from our tent, the brisk morning air feels wet and a light fog begins on the edges of the campsite clearing.

Knowing this time I can't forgive him, I'll need to find a way back into the city. As I stroll towards the only lit up tent, my mind flashes to when I caught Andrew with my cousin last year. He called her name, I bet he looked into her eyes too. I might kill him. I'm getting close enough now to see that there is a very male figure moving around in that tent, backlit by what's likely some small, shitty, cheap lantern. He does have a thing for poor girls after all, I'm getting angrier and angrier as I near the tent.

Then… I realize I can't her moaning anymore, just movement and wet sounds. Instead of continuing to the side of the tent and screaming for him to get out, I start to walk around to the front of the tent, which is open for some reason. "Andrew..?" I croak out.

Andrews head rolls out of the tent. His beautiful blue eyes looking directly into mine. His lips are gone. He blinks. I run into the woods directly behind me, I know I screamed at some point, but all I know now is how out of breath I am, how hurt I feel and how hopeless my situation actually is. I hear a man screaming behind be as I run, threatening to do just about every painful thing under the sun to me.

And then, god bless, I hit the road, tripping and falling face first into it as a car hits it's breaks right in my face. How ironic, to get run over while running from a killer. I jump up looking towards the car, trying like hell to ignore the pain in my knees and hands, the fire in my lungs and the shivers I'm now suffering from.

The silhouette of a plump, mountain of a man exits the car, rocking it as he does. I can't make out his eyes, aviator sunglasses lock them away like a character from a garbage dime store novel. My eyes adjust and I can just make out his uniform, and that the car is a fancy police cruiser.

"God damn kiddo, are you okay? I'm sorry about that." The cop asks me. I croak out, "No, someone is trying to kill me."

He waves me over to the car urgently as I start to lose feeling in my fingers to the morning air, I jump into the passenger side. He gets back in with his pistol pulled, looking ready for a gunfight, he radios for help while I stare into the woods, I can't make sense of the radio call signs they use.

"Okay, what is actually happening sweetheart, who is trying to kill you?" "I don't know, I have no idea, he's big and he killed my boyfriend…" I can't stop the tears pouring down my face now. "Can we go now Officer, we need to go now he's right behind me."

"Now you listen here little miss, I'm the Chief of Police around here, ain't no one even gonna touch this cruiser without my say so, you're safe, here." He clicks the doors closed, and my heartbeat instantly gets a bit more manageable. "So, what exactly is happening here?" He asks, I start walking the Chief through what happened after I woke up.

He listened intently and I started to forget that it just happened, it all starts to feel like a dream or a distant memory as my body relaxes. "That's it, we need to go, did you radio for back up?"

"No, sweetheart, that's not really an option for someone like you, on a highway like this…" The Chief looks straight through me with a very straight face, the portrait of a miserable, pitiful, dirty girl stares back at me from his sunglasses. I hate her.

He unlocks my door, I snap my head to the door, as if on autopilot, in the fog at the edge of the tree line I see someone waiting. I look back to the Chief, he's not alert anymore, he's smiling, he hits me. "I shouldn't have stopped running" is the only thought in my head. Everything is fuzzy, my door opens. I'm dragged out, I scream in the wind while a warm liquid drips down my face into my eyes, I kick in the dirt as I'm dragged back through the woods, but I know the last thing I'll see is that god damned camp site, glazed in crimson.  - - - - I tighten my hand around Jane's ponytail, determined to pull her wet lips up to mine by her pretty golden hair. A wave of warmth swims up my arms, accompanied by tender breathing along my stomach and breasts. I let go of her hair as she embraces me.

Our tongues intertwine and I taste us, I can't help but moan. My legs feel at home with her between them, her thighs radiating heat into my core. Even with my eyes closed and my mind given over to her, I see my pale hands run across her suntanned skin clear as day.

A very annoying jingle starts emanating through our open doors, from Jane's room, "Shit!, sorry that's the conference" She blurts out, kissing me before running into her room, wiping her mouth and pulling her skirt down as she waddles her sexy valley girl ass across the hallway into her room. I guess I'm awake now.

Her door closes & I gradually make my way out of my bed. I pull on a giant sweater and some tight sweatpants, shimmy into my faded pink slippers and head to the bathroom, nearly tripping on the mountains of clothes I really need to pick up today.

I flip the ridiculous flower pedal light switch & the fairly sun lit bathroom flashes to bright white. I try to blink the fluorescent bathroom light burn out of my eyes, as I make my way to the sink slowly but surely. Groggily washing my face, wiping away the black eyeliner & lipstick leftover from last night, I force myself to look in the mirror. I have mixed feeling about my shaved head, but the convenience can't be understated. I give myself a wink and hop in the shower.

Twenty minutes later and my confidence is a bit higher, I've got my face on, minimal as it is, I can't stop loving black, it's the little dead goth girl in me. I can't lie, my style has been a great buffer for myself and the man-children at Ryerson. A muscular, tall, perpetual bitch-faced white girl, usually clad in black isn't their ideal match I suppose. I'm pulling on clean, well, cleaner pants when I get lost in thought, I haven't wanted to fuck a man in at least five years, maybe I should expand my social circle?

I really can't stand listening to most people unless it's for work though, and for now, Jane is my own little Barbie until she gets bored, or infatuated with someone else.

So why bother? I think as I slip on my socks & pull back on my sweater. Snatching my reading glasses from my corner desk, I catch a glimpse of Coraline. My baby sister.

Our foster parents, and even other kids always said we looked so similar, even though I'm 6 years older than her. I framed this picture with a 'Power Puff Girls' frame, a show we used to watch as kids, we have the same porcelain skin, but she's shorter, I think she's much prettier than I am, I'd say she's beautiful. Her facial features are sharper, she's plump in all the right places, and she's as sweet as pie. Just looking at her makes me feel better about my looks whenever I'm down on myself.

My phone alarm goes off and a reminder to complete my only real work for the day stares me in the face. I swipe away the notification, and sit down at my desk to look over then send my first article in for review for my new internship. Before you ask, growing up in the system and getting out without a baby and/or addiction was all the inspiration I needed to kick the shit out of my journalism classes.

It was always the more social stuff that threw a wrench into the works for me, and the framework this profession provides, has been akin to therapy in terms of getting me to comfortable with people again. At least that's what I assume, I've never been one for traditional therapy myself. 

I was more of a Jim Beam girl, then a whole lot of cannabis kind of gal, now I mostly exercise and read.

I finished final editing and hit send. The fear hits me fast and hard. My spine chills and I’m on my feet before I realize it. I haven’t felt this in so long. So I do what I did back then, I called Coraline. 

“Abi..” She answers on the first ring. My heart calms down by at least five beats per minute.

“Hey, sorry, I know it’s kinda early for you.” She sighs at these words.

“I’ve been up for a few hours actually.” Coraline retorts.

“Oh, well, you’ve got a lead on me then.” I laugh.

“Abigail, you’ve got better things to be doing, I’m sure. I really appreciate it, but you don’t need to check up on me constantly.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I just got a weird feeling..”

“You sure that wasn’t Jane grabbing your ass?” We laugh.

“I do have to go though..” She lets out.

“Sure, yeah, sorry. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I reply.

The dial tone greets me, she’s rarely that short over the phone, even if the is busy. But she’s not wrong, I can’t let guilt about leaving her back home hold me back when she doesn’t. I need to focus on my life.

#Horror #Thriller #ChapterOne #femalemaincharacter #lovecrafian

[nuuneyraegon]

summer

okay. lord. so i was planning something COMPLETELY different for my 10th fic on ao3. and it’s still going to be my 10th fic, that’s not changing. this isn’t going to be posted there until i finish the other thing i’m working on.

but i had a sudden burst of feelings last night and hammered this out in about 4 hours. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. 

The night is quiet. The window’s cracked open ever so slightly, letting the gentle summer air waft through the room, carrying with it the sound of crickets. The two of them sit there on the bed, as they usually do, Kakyoin with his Famicom controller in his lap, Jotaro perched on the edge with that large, soft, weighted dolphin lying across his chest. It’s not a school night, so time passes without much of a fuss, the plates that once contained sandwiches and snacks growing colder. It feels comfortable, and just fine in a way that Kakyoin can’t place.

It’s when the clock in the corner of the room reads just after midnight, (visible by the light of his game of F-Mega) that the quiet in the room is broken. 

“Kakyoin.”

Kakyoin doesn’t respond for a few seconds, half-intensely concentrating on the game and half-not quite registering his friend’s voice. He lets out a small “hmm?”, his eyes remaining fixed on the CRT TV balanced haphazardly on his dresser. 

“What...what’s it like to be dead?” 

Jotaro doesn’t sound like himself at all. It’s the same voice, the same general cadence that he’s used to, but the question he poses is so hesitant, so odd, so completely out of nowhere, that for a second all Kakyoin can do in response is laugh. 

“What kind of a question is that? We’re just sitting here in my bedroom, eating and playing games, and suddenly you’re asking about death?”

“You know,” Jotaro shifts over, closer towards where Kakyoin sits, and the latter feels the movement of his weight across the mattress, tilting slightly so as not to get thrown off balance, “You know what being dead is like. So I’m asking you because I want to know.”

“Give it fifty or sixty years and you’ll find out for yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

Kakyoin laughs, again, only for that laugh to turn into a groan when his car is sent careening off the tracks due to his lapse in attention. The game over screen pops up, and he sighs, setting the controller down on the futon and turning towards the source of the weight. He’s still sitting there, facing the wall, his feet propped up on a nearby chair. He’s always been on the subtle side in terms of expressions, so the slight crease in his brow catches Kakyoin’s attention almost immediately.

“Do you actually want to know?” 

“That’s what I said, asshole,” Jotaro hisses. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Okay. Sure. So…” Kakyoin reaches to switch the console off, not even bothering to save. “While it’s true that I was clinically dead for around six minutes, I’m not really sure if I can talk about what being dead dead felt like. But I guess you already know that, and-” He leans over, poking Jotaro’s cheek with his index finger. “I also guess you’re not going to take no for an answer.”

“Do that again and I’m biting it off.”

“Good to know. Anyway, I’m not really sure that I can say much on that subject. Truth be told...I just don’t remember most of it. I’d lost a lot of blood. I was unconscious for nearly a day. But I think there is a thing or two that I can recall?” Kakyoin lifts up the console, sliding it under his bed, then scoots over, closer to where Jotaro is sitting. “Like being punched by DIO. I remember that. I remember...all of that.”

Jotaro tenses up for a second, instinctively reaching for the brim of his hat. He doesn’t say anything, though, and Kakyoin takes it as an invitation to keep going.

“I was just blown across the city in a split second. It was like everything just happened all at once. I know you weren’t there, and Mr. Joestar probably already told you, but...yeah. I figured out what his Stand could do, sent that message, and then I just...fell asleep. I was so tired. It felt like I hadn’t slept for days on end.” 

“I wasn’t there.” Jotaro’s voice is so quiet that it almost blends into the ambient noise from outside. “I didn’t even know that this was happening.”

“That wasn’t your fault, you know,” Kakyoin murmurs. “There were so many other things that you had to worry about. You were doing as much as you could.” He takes a breath, then, “Should I keep talking?”

“Mm.” Jotaro nods.

“I think the most interesting thing was...I had a dream when I was unconscious. It really was like I was just sleeping, even though by that point my heart had probably stopped. Like I said, I don’t remember most of it. But I know that I had it. And I know that in that dream, I couldn’t move.” He thinks to himself for a moment, before getting up, taking a sketchpad off of his desk. “Do you mind if I try to draw what I remember? I think it’s easier than explaining.”

Again, Jotaro nods, and Kakyoin takes a pencil from his school bag, sitting back down. He puts pencil to paper, making a rough sketch of a dark, vaguely humanoid form, its face indistinct. 

“This is what I saw. I was lying down on the ground, and this person...or whatever it was, was standing over me. They were talking to me. I don’t know what they were saying, and it went on for so long that I thought I might have landed in purgatory.” It’s an attempt at a joke, but it doesn’t land. After a second of awkward silence, Kakyoin just decides to continue. “Anyway...they said one thing that I remember well. I did realize that I was dead at this point, I think. I was thinking about a lot. The fact that I was only seventeen and lying dead in a water tower. And, do you know what that person told me in response?”

“They responded to you thinking?”

“It was a dream.”

“Right, okay. Doesn’t have to make sense.”

“But yes, they did know what I was thinking. It’s not like I could talk. I was completely paralyzed. They heard my thoughts, I guess, about how I was only seventeen, and they told me, ‘no, you’re already seventeen’. I think I woke up not long after that. The next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed, more bandage and machine than human.”

Then he laughs again, but it’s so much more tense and half-hearted than ever before. He doesn’t know why, but Kakyoin finds himself touching the scars on his face, fingertips trailing across the rough, keratinized lines bisecting his eyelids; then they slide under his shirt to ghost across the jagged, round scar just under his diaphragm. 

“My body’s broken, Jotaro. They got my heart beating again, they got me breathing again, they even managed to get me walking when they thought for months that I might never be able to move my legs again. But when I woke up that day, my organs were torn. My liver was destroyed. My vertebrae were in pieces. I was so scared. For the first time since I left Japan, I wanted my parents. I wanted someone near me. I was half-anesthetized, and I cried for someone, anyone to come help me, like a small child having a nightmare. It...honestly scared me, how weak I’d become. And those were just the injuries from DIO.”

Jotaro tilts his head over towards Kakyoin, eyes narrowed questioningly.

“You know how in movies they always show CPR as...easy? Clean?” Kakyoin asks, and Jotaro gives a vague nod. “Yeah. When I woke up three of my ribs were broken. They don’t care, you know. I was bleeding out and in cardiac arrest, and hell, those broken bones weren’t much of a problem compared to the hole in my stomach. Better than being dead, as far as the doctors are concerned.”

“They didn’t have to,” Jotaro suddenly says, and Kakyoin turns to look at him once again. “If I’d known about...you. I would’ve started your heart again without breaking your ribs. I’d do it for as long as I needed to.”

“I feel like there’s something I’m missing here,” Kakyoin replies. “But alright. That definitely would have helped. I know that having you around would have helped no matter what.”

Jotaro touches the brim of his hat once again, this time pulling it down, over his eyes. He’s refusing to look directly at Kakyoin, turning his body away and focusing his gaze on nothing in particular.

“I didn’t do enough,” he mumbles. “I didn’t do enough. You can still barely walk. You’re in pain almost every day. You had to be in the hospital for months. I’m not someone...worth thinking of like that.”

“JoJo. No. Look at me.” Kakyoin reaches over, grabbing Jotaro’s face with both hands and turning his head to meet their gazes - this probably isn’t the best move, but he does it without thinking. “I’m alive. I’ve always been hurting, Jotaro, ever since I was born. This is a different kind of pain, but it’s pain that I can handle. The pain that I felt when I was younger, of being alone, being worthless, being used...it’s not mine anymore. I never regretted traveling to Egypt. I don’t have any regrets, because I’m no longer alone. If I have to trade this physical pain for being known and understood, then I will.”

He half-expects Jotaro to back away, or snarl at him for suddenly touching him, but he just sits there, his eyes locked on Kakyoin’s. His face is warm. His cheeks have a slight tinge of pink that’s barely visible under the low light of the room.

“Okay,” he says, finally, eyes flickering down towards his lap. 

“I’m so glad I get to spend this time with you. Being with you...it makes me happy. It’s strange, being known by someone else, but not minding one bit. It’s strange, but it’s the best feeling I can imagine. And,” Kakyoin says, trying and failing to keep the grin off his face, “I’m glad I can keep my fingers this time, too.”

“Gimme a break.” It’s the single most insincere display of anger that Kakyoin has ever seen. “Bastard. Don’t think you’re safe just yet.”

“Wow, this is a plot twist. I survive getting impaled by a vampire, have four surgeries to fix all of my broken body parts, go through months of physical therapy and a liver transplant, all just so I can get killed by my own best friend in my own house.” Kakyoin breaks apart from Jotaro, then collapses face-first on the futon. “Wonder what they’ll have to tell my mother.”

“Kakyoin, you shit. Get up.”

“What happened to feeling bad for me? I kind of want to go back to that.”

“Nope. Not happening any more. No more pity.”

“Shame.” Kakyoin reaches over, grabbing for the remote and flicking the TV off. “Also, as long as we’re being brutally honest here, you don’t have to keep referring to me by my family name. I’m pretty sure we passed that point a long time ago. Call me by my first name.”

It’s so worth it to look up and see the flush return full force on Jotaro’s face, hear a choked, punched sound slip out of his throat. Anything even remotely resembling emotional intimacy has that effect, and as Kakyoin learned a while ago, it’s one of his favorite things to see.

Even if it comes at the cost of his own heart rate getting a little elevated, too.

“Noriaki.” The word comes out husky, yet strangely soft, in that wonderful timbre that Kakyoin finds himself wanting to listen to as long as he can. “There. I did it.”

“Good. Now say it again.”

“You are really, really pushing your luck, motherfucker.”

“That’s not my name.”

The next thing he knows, Kakyoin’s being pressed into the surface of the bed by something big and heavy sitting right on his back, the weight and texture cluing him into the fact that it’s almost certainly Star Platinum. He can barely breathe, but it’s more comforting than anything else, having his best friend in front of him and on top of him all at the same time.

Jotaro’s scowling, but much like his voice, it has that air of softness to it that makes every action of his reassuring. Kakyoin honestly wouldn’t mind being pressed into the bed for a few hours if it was going to be like this.

Yeah, this is definitely fine.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #jotaro x kakyoin #rae makes a thing #my fics #r.txt

[firelinphd]

arthur x fem!reader | rubbing hands

arthur boyle x reader

female reader

Arthur comforts (Y/N) after she lost her mom, and they get more more close.

warning : angst, death, but it's only for the context after it's all cute and stuff sjsjsk

(Y/N)'s dad had turned into an Infernal when she was 12. That's why she had decided to go to a firefighter high school, and to join the Fire Force after she would graduate. And now that she was 17 and that she had joined the 8th Company, she was trying to find the truth about Infernals to prevent other children to lose their parents, as soon as possible.

          ''We've got an emergency ; an Infernal has shown up.'' Takehisa said, rushing everyone. As soon as they arrived in front of the house, (Y/N) got frozen in place. ''(Y/N), let's go ! We can't let anyone behind or it's slowing the whole team !'' He said. ''What's wrong ?'' Maki asked, maybe a bit more comprehensive. (Y/N) finally managed to articulate some words : ''That's my house.''

The whole team stopped when they heard what she said. ''Do you... still want to come ?'' Obi asked. The girl nodded, and followed them. Arthur looked at her, concerned. Those two actually kinda liked each other, even if (Y/N) wasn't saying anything about it -but was clearly obvious- and Arthur wasn't trying much.

They entered in the house ; there was fire on the first floor, kinda everywhere, but when the Infernal saw (Y/N), she stopped throwing fire. She didn't move, didn't try to avoid the Fire Force, she simply looked at her daughter. Obi cleared his throat awkwardly. ''Sister Iris, you can start the prayer.''

              Hearing her friend's words when she started the prayer, (Y/N) couldn't stand it and started to cry. ''Okay, okay, I'm on it.'' Arthur said, hugging the girl immediately. She cried in his chest, not watching the scene of her mom being killed.

Arthur hugged her tightly, rubbing her back with one hand and holding the back of her head with the other one. She cried like that until her mom was gone. After that, she decided to woman up and stop crying ; she was a firefighter now ! She couldn't break down ! Still, Arthur wanted to hold her, help her ; but she didn't wait for him and directly rushed upstairs.

''... Uh ?'' Shinra did, looking in one of the rooms ; there were 5 cats. ''I knew she was conscious enough not to hurt them ! Oh my God, thank you !'' (Y/N) exclaimed. ''You have 5 cats ?'' Maki asked, while her friend held one. ''Yeah. This one is mine, though. All the others were my mom's.'' She answered.

Obi asked her if she wanted to take pictures or anything to take to her dorm ; but she only took 2 pictures, saying her grandparents were going to come to the house anyway when they'd heard about their daughter passing, and would want to see the pictures as well.

''But they won't take the cats with them forever.'' (Y/N) added. It actually didn't take long for the whole team to decide to take the cats with them when everything will be settled ; the girl already had everything those animals needed anyway.

However, once she was back at the firehouse, (Y/N) couldn't stop crying. She was able to stay strong in front of Infernals ; but this time, it was her mom, and she didn't have any parent left. Never she had thought of losing her mom just like she had lost her dad. And for a whole week, she cried about it ; the Company actually let her cry out in her room, even if she was yelling at them when they were trying to cheer her up.

After the funerals, she looked calmed down ; maybe she had cried so bad, tears weren't able to form anymore. ''(Y/N) ! It's a movie night, tonight ! Come with us ! Pleeeease ?'' Iris asked, smiling like she was trying to contaminate her friend with her smile. Curiously, it worked. (Y/N) smiled a bit, nodding. Arthur decided to wait for her when he heard that she had agreed, so he could talk to her ; he hadn't tried to since she wasn't in a good mood.

When she opened her room's door, he threw his sweater at her. ''What are you doing ?'' She asked. The blonde smiled. ''Put it on. I know you like the smell of it. And it's soooo warm.'' He said, like he was showing off about it. She chuckled a bit and put it on anyway ; she wasn't going to refuse a big and warm sweater, smelling like heaven.

        When they arrived in the common room, there were some blankets and mattresses on the floor, so everyone would be comfortable -Hibana had even joined them. (Y/N) sat next to Maki and Iris, but the girls, seeing Arthur staring at their friend, pushed her to him. She just sat next to the boy, who was a bit away from everyone else -surely he had planned to sit with her and didn't want anyone to bother them during the movie.

         Arthur threw a blanket on both of them, resting his hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder to cover her body -not that she minded the blonde being this close to her. Obi and Takehisa noticed those two, but the girl still mourning her mom, they didn't dare say anything. When Shinra arrived, he decided to sit with the girls -not that he really had a choice, since they forced him to sit there so he won't disturb (Y/N) and Arthur.

            ''Why are you still shivering ?'' The blonde asked the girl next to him. ''I don't know ? I'm not even that cold.'' Seeing that she had started to point a finger, Arthur stopped her. ''Don't make fire, you'll disturb everyone from the movie with the light. They'll be mad at us !'' He used a weird voice to say his last sentence, and that made (Y/N) chuckle. Indeed, the girl could create fire from her fingers.

          But noticing that she was cold, the blonde decided to pull her to his chest, sitting her between his legs. He wrapped the blanket around themselves, even though she had most of it. He didn't know where to rest his hands, but since she didn't say anything when he pulled her close to him, he decided that he could dare to hug her, resting his chin on the top of her head and hugging her collarbone and shoulders.

            The girl looked quite comfortable, so Arthur decided they could stay like that. When he heard some movement on his right, he turned to look at Iris, Maki and Shinra. Surely one of them had told a joke and the others were trying not to laugh. The blonde stared at Shinra, and that's how he remembered.

          When (Y/N) learnt that Shinra's mom and brother had passed just like her dad, when she joined the Company, she also learnt about his tic. ''Oh, I've got one too ! Since my dad died, my mom has been rubbing the top of my hands with her thumbs. Sometimes when I'm nervous, I do that to myself.'' Arthur didn't care about her back then, so he had actually forgotten about that tic of hers ; she wasn't nervous that often, actually.

          The blonde turned back to (Y/N). Then, he decided to slip her hands into his, so his palms were resting on top of her own hands ; his right hand holding hers, his left hand holding hers. Not wanting to make things weird -like it wasn't a bit, already- and ruin his chances, he moved them around, to make her look like she was dancing. She giggled, and that caught the attention of her friends.

          Indeed, they hadn't heard her giggle since that day they had to kill her mom. ''Stop ! Stop it, we're gonna bother everyone !'' She whispered, and that made Arthur smile at her. Still, he listened to her and stopped. However, if he stopped, it only was because he had an other idea in mind. He switch hands, so his arms were crossed ; his right hand holding the girl's left, and vice versa.

           (Y/N) raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering what he was going to do now. But she obviously hadn't expected him to run his thumbs against her knuckles, softly. He knew she hadn't expected it, since she turned her head to stare at him, in confusion. He simply smiled at her, a genuine and loving smile.

        Seeing that he apparently knew what he was doing, the girl turned back, and got even closer to his chest ; almost melting into it. She was fully relaxed now. However, she wasn't saying anything. Indeed, (Y/N) was thinking about her mother ; never anybody else except her had ever rubbed her hands this way. Arthur also relaxed into the touch, completely hugging her, still running his thumbs against both her hands. Anyone who didn't know them would say those two were in a relationship.

            (Y/N) was getting sleepy, and she raised her gaze to meet the boy's eyes. He smiled at her, and bent to kiss her forehead -if he could get some more affection out of it, he would surely try. She chuckled a bit. ''Your hair tickled !'' She explained, when he gave her a confused look. That said, Arthur let go of her hands -earning a tiny whine coming out her mouth. He tied his hair like he was usually doing, and went back to his initial position.

             He started to rub her cheek with his right hand as well, still holding hers, the left hand still doing its job of replicating the girl's tic. (Y/N) didn't care about the movie anymore, and raised her gaze once again. This time, when the blonde kissed her forehead, it didn't tickle her. ''Thank you.'' She quietly said. That made Arthur frown. ''For what ?''

         She closed her eyes. ''Helping me.'' Arthur smiled, and never Iris and Maki had seen him give this loving smile to anyone. It was a real, bright smile, unlike those he was usually doing, those 'show off' smiles, those proud smiles. They both squealed, but quickly turned their gaze back to the screen, trying not to get caught. It's not like Arthur was hearing anything else than his thoughts.

         He didn't know what to do ; should he kiss her ? tell her his feelings, since she seemed to return them ? should he put her to bed as she seemed very tired and sleepy ? But it was too late ; she had fallen asleep already. Fortunately for the blonde, Obi looked at them, and noticed the girl sleeping. ''You know what ? She seems to really need you. You guys can sleep together for tonight, but don't disturb Shinra.'' He quietly told him.

            That said, Arthur tried not to wake (Y/N) up while carrying her to her room. She woke up when he put the blanket on top of her shoulders, after he had put her in her bed. She groaned a bit, wondering what was going on. ''You fell asleep, so I put you to bed. Captain Obi said I could stay with you for the night-'' He didn't have time to finish, since the girl had already replied : ''Stay.''

         She didn't have to tell him twice ; he was already going under the blanket with her, hugging her. It was practical that they had all put on their pyjamas before going to the common room ; imagine Arthur having to sleep in his usual outfit. He started to rub (Y/N)'s back with his right hand, his left hand starting to caress the girl's again. She sighed -like in relief- when he did so, and that made him chuckle.

           He kissed the top of her head. ''Where are all the cats ? I thought they were in your room.'' She chuckled, and replied with a sleepy and really cute voice. ''They're staying at my grandparents' house for the week until we put everything they need in here, remember ?'' He felt dumb, but nodded anyway.

              ''I really love you.'' The blonde said, out of the blue. He surely was very tired as well, because he hadn't planned that to slip. He didn't make any sound when he realized what he had just said ; he simply shot his eyes open. However, (Y/N) just hugged him tighter -as if it was possible. ''I do too.'' She said, her eyes still close, obviously half-asleep.

          ''How are you even able to breathe ? You have my big sweater on, your head is against my chest, and you have the blanket up to your ear !'' He said, chuckling. The girl giggled. ''I don't know, but I hope I'll stay alive for the night, I want to sleep with you again !'' And even though he really wanted to kiss her, Arthur didn't want to change her position -she seemed really comfortable and was almost asleep already, why bothering her ? That's why he only wished her a goodnight, caressing her back until he drifted to sleep as well.

           ''Do you think they're hooking up ?'' Hibana asked, making the girls jump -she had been so silent during the whole movie, they had actually forgotten about her. ''N-no ! They're just sleeping ! Arthur has been the only one able to make her crack a smile !'' Iris said. ''Yeah, I was watching them, too. But unlike me, you weren't that discreet.'' The woman answered.

           Maki wanted to argue a bit more, but Takehisa forced them to go to sleep by turning off the lights. And Shinra ? Well, he was actually glad that he didn't have to share his room with Arthur, even if it was only for one night.

okay that was much longer than usual but I needed the angst context and then the comfort and I mean I'm fucking in love with Arthur so if he needs 2000+ words instead of 1200 he's gonna have them.

sometimes I don't even know if Shinra really is my fav cause like a r t h u r

[shih-coulda-had-it]

pacers (2/?)

Summary: Nana inherits One for All. Sorahiko learns what he can.

1 - 2 - ?

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.

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Sorahiko gets a call in the middle of patrol, and even though it’s protocol not to, he sees the caller ID and immediately picks up. Nana times her calls so she can wish him luck before patrol, or so she can pester him for a pick-me-up breakfast after. She’s never had cause to call him during. And it’s his private cell.

“Nana?” he murmurs.

“Sorahiko,” she sobs, and he almost falls from the ledge. “Rokudo-san, he just—oh, god—” He hears her retch.

“Where are you?” he demands, already jetting back to his district precinct to call off his patrol. Someone else can cover the area. Kingfisher. He can tell the officers to call in the snobby son of a bitch; asshole needs the hours anyways. “Nana, are you at my place? Yours?”

“Your apartment,” she gasps, voice hoarse. “Sorry, I couldn’t—I couldn’t go back to mine, I let myself in with the key under your dumb plant, sorry, I’m sorry—”

“No, listen, Nana, you’re okay,” he hurries to reassure her. “I’ll be back there soon, alright?” He stops at the precipice of the second to last building. She’s having a panic attack in his ear. His heart’s in his fucking throat. “Nana, breathe for me.”

She does. She does again.

“Tell me something about my apartment.”

“It’s shit,” she sniffles. He rolls his eyes. “Your kitchen—it’s too small.”

“Tell me something nice.”

A pause. “You’re… you’re my best friend,” she says haltingly, and Sorahiko’s abruptly so done with his job.

“You too,” he says gently. “Give me a little bit to shake off the officers. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.”

“Take a shower.”

She manages a scoff. It’s still shaky, but it sounds like she’s pulling it together. “Yeah, yeah.”

He makes it back to his apartment in record time, and when he slips in, cautiously calling out while tugging off his boots, “I’m home,” he hears Nana softly respond, “Welcome back,” from his bedroom.

She’s already under the covers, wet hair soaking his pillows. He can see she’s wearing his clothes. Quietly, he picks up a clean pair of underwear and old t-shirt. When he passes by to head for the bathroom, he briefly presses a hand to her shoulder, waits for her to clutch it back before releasing him.

Her gear is neatly folded on the sink’s counter. The tiles are a little cold. He takes the swiftest shower in his life, dries his hair, pulls on his clothes and piles his own gear into a bundle, and then exits the bathroom.

He climbs in next to her. Nana throws an arm around his waist and scoots in close. It reminds him of that one sleepover a long time ago, and the multiple sleepovers when they were in high school. Since they both started renting their own apartments and trying to survive the slog of hours that is hero-work, sleepovers had fallen to the wayside.

“Hey,” he greets, quietly.

“Hey,” she responds. “Sorry for invading your place.”

“I’m not stopping you.” He closes his eyes. “What happened?”

She shudders, and doesn’t say anything for more than a couple beats of silence. He’s ready to let it go, to discuss it in the morning, but then she rallies together. She’s always rallying it together. “Rokudo-san had two Quirks,” she begins, unsteadily. “Black Whip… and something called One for All.”

Nana tells him what she can. That One for All has been passed through from user to user, that she’s the seventh to inherit it. That meeting Rokudo—Shadow Net, an underground hero—those weeks ago had been a coincidence, but the meetings since had not. That the conspiracy theories he’d told her about had a grain of truth. That right before he passed from grievous injuries, he’d forced a bloody hand to Nana’s face and ordered her to ingest his blood, quickly, before all was lost.

Sorahiko trembles with an impotent kind of rage. How dare Rokudo force that legacy onto Nana, barely two years into her hero career?

“Why did he choose you?”

She forces a laugh. “Oh, you know. I’ve got a drive for justice.”

//

Nana has always been the better fighter between them. So his pride isn’t hurting too much when with One for All churning in her veins, she’s literally kicking Sorahiko’s ass as they try to navigate her newly-obtained Quirk. If she’s using accidental excessive force in a spar, then she’ll accidentally use it during a villain apprehension, and then she’ll get into trouble for killing a perp. He's here to be the guinea pig as she learns to regulate her power. He’s never hated Rokudo more in his whole life, for just forcing his burden on Nana at the brink of his death, dying before he can tell her anything substantial.

“Ow,” he groans, struggling to extricate himself from the wall she’s roundhouse-kicked him into. He’s never been so grateful for drywall and plaster in his whole life. U.A. thinks ahead for everything.

She frets by the opening, hands hovering, ready to catch him. “Is anything broken?” she checks, anxious.

“My fucking reflexes?” Sorahiko falls against her, face-first into her shoulder, and she just barely manages to catch him before he slips to the floor. Her hands skate by the bruises he’s sure he’ll find in the morning. “Okay, we need—you need—a new strategy.”

“How do you mean?”

For the past couple of days, they’ve been sparring every morning. She’s trying to operate it intuitively, because that’s how she’s trained—that’s how they’ve all trained—their Quirks since they were four years old. They need to approach this at a new angle.

Nana carefully loops one arm around his waist, hooks his closest arm over her shoulders, and does her best not to jostle him on their limping way out of the gym. They’ve walked into Chiyo’s office like this too many times for Sorahiko to be embarrassed. 

“How are you using it?” There’s always a manual function with Quirks, even the ones that seem subconsciously used. Otherwise, a good deal of the global population would be dead. Visualize a switch, Sorahiko’s Quirk counselor had advised, when Sorahiko used to cry and lose control, legs shooting out from under him as oxygen diverted from his lungs to the propulsion jets at his calves.

“Like I use Fade Out,” she answers him, a little frustrated. “I just—access it, I don’t know.” They pass by a gawking group of first-years, and Sorahiko snarls to frighten them away. “It’s like… It’s like I’m standing next to a bonfire.”

“Okay, and?” he encourages, stifling a moan of pain as she squeezes him closer, because the staircases are a bit narrow, and they still have to maneuver around departing students.

“And when I say I access it,” she says, “I mean that I’m swiping my hands through the flames, and venting that heat when I move. You’ve seen the smoke.” She hip-checks their way into the nurse’s office. “Chiyo-chan!” she calls out.

“Again?” demands Recovery Girl, scooting into view on her rolling chair. Sorahiko flinches away from the outrage, tucks his chin into his cape like he can avoid her wrath that way. “What the hell happened now?”

Nana helps him onto a cot, and collapses into a chair next to him. “Training?”

“Training,” he gruffly confirms, and he really does groan aloud when Chiyo rolls him over, plucks his cape off, and starts prodding at his muscles and spine through the jumpsuit. He shifts his head so it’s not face flat on the mattress; instead, now he can give Chiyo the beady eye and make sure Nana’s not looking too guilty. “Can you—ghh—pretend like you’ve—agh, ow—got some kind of bedside manner?”

“No,” says Chiyo perfunctorily. “This is the fourth time in as many days that you’ve landed yourself here, Falco-san. So either tell me what the hell you two are doing, or find yourself a new clinic. Or a relationship counselor.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Nana protests, simultaneously as Sorahiko says the same thing. She adds, “That’s also really mean of you to imply, Chiyo-chan. You think I’d be so rough?”

Chiyo sniffs. But, Sorahiko notes incredulously, the woman’s also flushing pink.

“Who knows,” the nurse mutters under her breath, just loud enough that Sorahiko can hear it. His mouth parts, but nothing comes out, because he has no idea how to refute Nana’s apparent reputation as a, a—

“We’re just training,” he tells her instead. “Nana’s cut down her recovery period, and extended her flicker duration. I’m not used to it yet.”

“Tch.” Chiyo leans back. “Nothing broken,” she tells Nana. “Obviously, he has surface-level bruising and scrapes from whatever wall he’s blasted himself into now.” Nana guiltily exchanges a look with him. Chiyo must catch it, because her voice hardens. “Some bruised ribs too, so far as I can tell. He’s lucky to not have internal bleeding.”

Nana’s relieved exhale probably shouldn’t do so much to alleviate Sorahiko’s own worries. “Thank goodness,” she murmurs, slouching further back in her chair.

“The question now is,” the nurse says, steel determination in her voice and tension returns to Nana’s spine, to Sorahiko’s hands which curl into useless fists, “do I heal him now or let him heal naturally?”

“Now,” he growls.

She glowers at him. “Don’t think you scare me, Falco-san. I’m perfectly fine letting you learn from this lesson on your own. Unless,” and she swings her intense stare at Nana, who is looking helplessly between the two, “you tell me what you’re doing.”

Nana has never liked to see him in pain.

“I have a new Quirk,” she blurts out, and Sorahiko closes his eyes as the bits and pieces of the whole sorry story come spilling out. “Other people—other people can’t know that I have it, but I need Sorahiko to help me adjust…”

In the end, Chiyo does heal the bruised ribs, but she bandages everything else because Sorahiko’s on the verge of passing out. Fourth time this week he’s been here. The first morning had been the worst—when Sorahiko had raised his arms in a cross, his usual defense from Nana’s kicks, Nana’s leg had snapped the bones. Nana had panicked, and practically flown him to Chiyo.

Since then, it’s been a gradual improvement. An absolute toll on his stamina, and he’s certainly wasting any goodwill he ever had with Chiyo, but Nana has a rough handle on the power output now.

“I don’t like it,” she tells them frankly. “This apparent inheritance of a Quirk and that you’re training it after you’ve been certified. But I can read between the lines that this has to happen.”

“Thanks, Chiyo-chan,” sighs Nana. Just as Sorahiko passes out, he sees Nana shift in her seat, and hears the flirty tone of her voice as she starts, “So...”

.

.

./cont?

#bnha #gran torino #shimura nana #shih.txt #pacers!fic #you ever think about how sorahiko helped train three users of ofa #and probably was so traumatized by nana's time of it #that he just went absolutely apeshit during toshi's #and finally learned to tone down by deku's? #anyway so i dream of platonic intimacy #torino sorahiko

[toothpastecanyon]

Dreams That Walk, Nightmares That Talk, Chapter 4

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

For @lilaclily00

________________________________________________________________

               Birdsong. It’s the worst thing in the world to hear when you’re trying to fall asleep. The sun glowers through Marie’s curtains and she covers her head with a pillow, but she can’t escape the awful, awful chirping.

               Morning is here, whether she likes it or not.

               She groans into her mattress. Then, after a long hesitation, she rolls herself over and drops her feet on the floor. Her legs feel cold coming out of the covers; it makes her grimace.

               Slowly, she stands. She stretches. She shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with one hand while reaching for the kettle with another.

                               (kettle)

                                               (one two three one two three one two three)

                                                               (water ends on right)

               She goes through her rituals of turning on the tap, flicking on the switch, getting out the cup, feeling a little less like a zombie with every motion. By the time she gets to the fridge, she’s awake enough to notice something’s missing.

               “No milk.” Marie taps a finger (onetwothree) against the fridge door. “Forgot to go shopping… Idiot.”

               “Did you want some milk?”

               A voice comes from behind Marie and makes her jump. She whirls around to see Alcor floating way too close to her face, a nervous smile on his cheeks and a bottle of something way too purple to be milk clutched to his chest.

               Before he can speak again, she points at it.

               “I am not putting that in my tea.”

               “Huh?” He looks confused. “But I thought you said you were out of milk?”

               “Yes, and that is not milk.” She pauses, then adds: “Not cow’s milk, anyway.”

               “Cow’s milk…” Alcor seems to ponder that for a second, then his eyes widen in understanding. “Ohhh, right! That’s the type humans normally drink! Can’t believe I forgot that.”

               The kettle’s boiling. Marie walks past him to get out a teabag.

               “Yeah, I can get you some of that milk-”

               “No, thank you.”

               He floats up to her again, way too close for comfort. She tries to ignore him as she pours her tea.

               “Don’t worry! I know what I’m getting this time, I can just-”

               “No!” Marie snaps. She grits her teeth as he recoils. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want your help, okay? I don’t want you - I don’t know - teleporting a bunch of severed cow udders in here or something. I can live without milk. It’s fine. ”

               With that, she turns away from Alcor. Gets out a spoon. Stirs her tea one-two-three one-two-three one-two-three and doesn’t look at the kicked-puppy expression she knows he’s got on his face again.

               Out of the corner of her eye, though, she can’t help but notice him backing away.

               He doesn’t say a word; it seems like he’s left, but then she turns around and sees that is not so. He’s sitting on the couch in the living room, his back to her, his head bowed over something. Marie gives him an odd look, but he doesn’t stir.

               Should she say something?

               She considers her words for a moment, but nothing comes, and she opts to sit at the kitchen table instead. Perched there, sipping her black tea and looking out into space as the sound of birdsong hangs between them, Marie can’t help but find this a little awkward.

               Like having a houseguest, but worse.

               The silence stretches. Alcor flips a page of something; she cranes her head to see what that something is, but it’s out of view.

               So she just sips her tea. Jiggles her knee a little bit. Checks the time on her phone, grimaces at 5:42 AM.

                               (five four two five)

                                               (three four five three four five three four five)

                                                               (nine nine nine ending on right)

               She didn’t get nearly enough sleep to deal with this. The nightmares were the worst they’d ever been in her life; trying to get any rest had been a hellish cycle of going to sleep, waking up in a cold sweat at the sight of awful visions, and checking the time only to realise barely twenty minutes had passed since she last looked.

               It was terrible, and, staring at the back of Alcor’s head, she could think of only one reason why they’d gotten so much worse. Letting him into her mind, letting him eat her nightmares… it had stirred them up like some kind of hornet’s nest.

               Hopefully this isn’t permanent. Hopefully, if she leaves them alone, they’ll settle down again.

               Marie rubs her eyes at that thought. She takes another sip of tea and then stands up, clearing her throat - Alcor doesn’t look over at the sound.

               “I need to get ready for the day,” she says. “So, I’m going to go now-”

               Alcor’s voice cuts in abruptly. “You know what I love about this?”

               “Huh?” Marie blinks. “Love about what? Alcor?”

               He doesn’t so much as twitch in response. After a moment of hesitation, she approaches him, putting a hand on the couch he’s sitting on and leaning forwards to catch a glimpse of what he’s staring at.

               What she sees surprises her, at first.

               “Ben’s drawings?” Marie looks down at the blue file in Alcor’s hands. She watches him flip through pages of his art. “Huh. I suppose that kind of imagery is right up your aisle.”

               Alcor closes the file. “It’s not that. Look.”

               “Look at what?”

               “Look at how you’ve kept them, in a nice little file. You’ve ordered them by age - that had to have taken some time.” He places it on the table, and smiles. “Look at where you keep them. On display, in the centre of the living room. That’s what I love.”

               She frowns. “I don’t see what you mean.”

               “You don’t? Don’t you think you should be scared of the things he drew about?” He looks up at her. “Don’t you think you should be scared of him?”

               “Excuse me? Absolutely not.” Marie’s scowl deepens; she crosses her arms. “What are you implying? I’m well aware that Ben’s soul used to belong to a demon, but that has very little bearing on the person he is now! The things he drew - they’re just that! They’re drawings! That’s what he did with the horrible things he saw at night: nothing dangerous, nothing to be scared of! Just all these beautiful drawings he put his heart into, and… why are you smiling like that?”

               Alcor’s smile is odd; at first it was happy, but as she spoke… it didn’t fade, but it did shrink somewhat, and a shine snuck into his eyes that’s strangely wistful. He doesn’t speak, at first. As she watches, he looks away again, down at the file in his lap. Then, quietly:

               “And that’s exactly what I love about this.” He looks away again, down at the file in his lap. “You care about him so much… not despite of who he is; you actually embrace it. That’s incredible. ”

               She raises an eyebrow. “That’s not some sort of achievement. I’m his mother, of course I care about him.”

               “Not an achievement.” A soft snort. “With all the bad parents out there in the world, I’d say it is.”

               At that Marie steps back, clutching her cup of tea. Alcor continues.

               “There’s a lot of kids out there who’d kill for someone like you. I mean, your son’s a demon, and this is how you react? ‘I’m gonna put all the weird pictures he drew into a file so I can look at them whenever I want!’ I mean, that’s amazing! I wish mine had… um…”

               He blinks and looks up at her, seeming to come back to himself somewhat. That strange little smile widens into a regular happy grin.

               “Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat. “That’s all I wanted to say. I’m sorry about last night; if you don’t trust me after I lost control like that, that’s totally fair, and I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted you to know that… I really admire how you treat Ben, and if you ever do want my help-”

               “No, don’t.” She shakes her head. “Stop.”

               “Stop? Stop wh-”

               “Just stop, okay?” Stepping back again, she takes a deep breath. “You’re being very flattering, but I don’t deserve a pat on the back for the way I treated Ben. I wasn’t a good parent to him. I tried to be, but I just wasn’t.”

               “You-”

               “I really let him down when he was younger. I really hurt him.” She looks away. “Even if it’s better now between us, I think he’d really take issue with you acting like I’ve done something exceptional. I haven’t.”

               Alcor doesn’t say anything to that. He’s silent again, and she doesn’t dare look at him. Instead, she turns around, clenching the cup in her hands. Tea’s gone cold, she can feel it. She walks over to the kitchen, sets it on the counter. Only then does she sneak a glance over to the couch, and see Alcor has completely disappeared from sight.

               Only from sight, though. Marie doesn’t need to look at the wards flickering by the door to feel his presence, his gaze on her. She rubs her eyes and shuffles over to the shoe rack.

               “I’m going to get some milk,” she mumbles, to herself as much as to him.  “It’ll be fine. Won’t be gone long.”

               She shoves her feet - one two

                               (onetwothree onetwothree onetwothree right left right)

                into some already tied sneakers, and heads for the door. The sunlight’s blinding; she squints and shutters her eyes as she stumbles towards the car, feels for the handle…

               ...the handle?

               Oh, right.

               Her car’s still at the hospital. Because of course it is.

               Goddammit. She glances back at the house, then scowls and starts marching down the pavement. It’s fine. She has legs, she can walk.

               Everything is fine.

________________________________________________________________

               Marie walks to the corner store. It’s summer in Southern Arizona; she can feel the sweat beading on her scalp, the shirt sticking to her back, can see the outline of the pavement against her eyelids every time she blinks. The heat is oppressive, pressing down on her, unpleasant, inescapable...

               ...and utterly ridiculous: she’s hardly been out here five minutes and her skin already feels medium rare. Why does she live here, again? She really does not know.

               Pressing her palms to her eyesockets, she lets out an extended groan and turns herself away from the sun. She can feel the plodding of her feet against the concrete, can hear the whoosh of cars going past her; in the shade of her hands, she opens her eyes again and stares down at her shoe.

               They go one foot in front of the other, one-two, but she counts them (one-two-three), (right-left-right). A crack in the pavement’s coming up, and she steps left on it because left is bad, she puts all the bad luck in her left leg so nobody dies.

               A wry smile, because that’s the kind of thought a sane person has.

                               (Right left right)

                                               (Make it right)

                                                               (loveyouloveyoumoreloveyoumost)

               Marie keeps her head down, the sun keeps beating down as she’s walking, her legs keep walking (right-left-right) and she can’t quite stop counting them yet.

               As she’s staring down at the pavement, there’s a flicker.

               At the very edge of her vision, a figure. It’s gone when she glances its way.

               A frown, a tired one. She lingers for a moment, squinting at the opposite street, but it’s nowhere to be seen. Of course it isn’t - it’s not like Alcor going invisible. There’s no hints, no traces of its presence.

               There’s nothing to be seen, because it doesn’t exist.

               Doesn’t exist. She spots it again - a shadowy flash in the corner of her eye - and her mind flashes back to last night. Dreams. Souls. A thousand specks like stars shimmering on her carpet, bits of other people in you...

               No. Stop.

               Marie physically shakes her head, tells herself no no, stop, this is just her brain fucking with her. She’s just tired and having a bad day - nothing unusual there. She’ll get the milk, go home, try and sleep this off before work. If she can’t, she’ll call out, but either way it’ll be fine-

               Another flicker makes her scowl.

               -and she’s not going to play this game. He doesn’t exist, he just doesn’t, and it’s way too hot outside to be standing here thinking about it.

               With a huff, she turns around and starts walking to the corner store again; she can see it now, it won’t take much longer. She plods on, and her eyelids burn, and the sun cooks her shoulders, and even though he doesn’t exist, she catches glimpses of a figure on the other side of the street.

               Between her and him, the cars are rushing past - shhhhhhooom, that’s the sound they make. When Ben was little, he used to giggle like crazy whenever they imitated it.

               “Shhhhhhooooom!”

               Laughter. She can hear him now.

               “Shhhhhrrooom!”

               “Zzzooooom!”

               “¡Mira, Ben! Una moto: nyrrrrrrooooooooom - chik chik - NYYYYROOOOO-”

               “Oh, the turn! Santino, you missed the turn!”

               “...I totally did, didn’t I. Whoops, heh, I got a little too into the game… what’s that, Ben? Are you laughing at me? Eso fue c ómico, ¿eh? ”

               Marie snorts and sits back-

but she’s not sitting.

               She stumbles back into reality with a yelp, blinks hard as she gets her footing back. Her eyes dart wildly around her surroundings - still on the pavement, still walking, coming up to an intersection now… she decides not to think about what would’ve happened if she’d walked right into the road.

               The corner store is just on the other side. She slows and presses the button, and rubs her eyes as she waits to cross. Pointedly ignores that man standing in her periphery.

               Cars stop, walking man sign lights up, and she walks away from him.

               Into the store, where it’s nice and cool. Bells jingle as she opens the door; a woman looks up from the cash register and smiles at her… something Marie only realises when she’s already stalked past the counter and into the drink aisle.

               Oops. She cringes at that while she finds where the milk is. It’s right by the end, and there’s not a big selection. While she stands there, trying to figure out which carton’s reduced fat…

               She becomes aware of him again. Not as a flicker in the corner of her eye this time, but a sudden, skincrawling certainty that he’s standing right behind her.

               Almost instinctively she looks over her shoulder, and sees nothing but a magazine display. There’s no one else in the aisle with her, but the certainty doesn’t fade. She turns back to the milk and it still feels like he’s inches from her back, like she should be feeling his breath on her neck, his hands on her shoulders, his voice in her ear:

               “You look tense, Marie.”

               She doesn’t realise she’s got her eyes closed until she catches herself almost falling over. She tries to blink the sleepiness out of her eyes

               and that’s when she feels his arms wrap around her shoulders. He hugs her loosely around her neck, and leans on her like he used to - not too much, but enough to feel safe. Comforting. Warm.

               Real. It’s exactly like she remembers. His words, exactly like what he used to say.

               “Do you want to talk about it?”

               With a slow, shaking hand, Marie reaches over her shoulder. She feels for his chin - it feels like it’s resting right there… but there’s nothing.

Nothing.

               He doesn’t exist, yet she can feel him squeeze a little tighter. She closes her eyes. Swallows the lump in her throat. Speaks, softer than a whisper.

               “Are you real?”

               He doesn’t respond immediately. The silence - she can’t bear it long.

               “Just tell me if you’re real.” Then hissed through clenched teeth: “ Please. ”

               He sighs, and sways her a little bit. Then he speaks.

               “Sounds like you had a rough day. I’m sorry."

               “That’s not- are you real? Have you been here, this whole time, in my…?” She feels him squeeze again; she tries to shrug him off, but his embrace won’t go away. “Please, just give me an answer. Say yes or no.”

               “Do you want to have dinner, or do you just want to go to sleep?” He chuckles. “I made that pasta you and Ben really liked last time. It was a battle to save a plate for you.”

               “No, that’s not an answer! Why aren’t you listening to me? You’re- you’re not real. You’re not! You can’t be, okay?” Marie backs up. Grips her hair with white knuckles. “If you were real, you’d talk to me, o-or you’d give me a sign, or anything! Anything, Santino!”

               “Okay.” He says. “Goodnight, mi cielito . I love you.”

               I love you. She shakes her head at those words, but a part of her still opens her mouth.

               “I love you more.”

               Her voice, it’s shaky. Watery. He seems to laugh at the sound, and brings her in close.

               “I love you most.”

               Then he kisses her. He’s there , right in front of her eyes… and yet the more she stares at him, the less real he seems. The less real everything seems; the weight and warmth of his body fades like a dream she’s waking up from, to be replaced with something hard, something cold against her back. She looks for him and suddenly he’s not there, had never been there, had never existed in the first place.

She opens her eyes, and stares at the woman leaning over her. Stares at the fridge doors of the drink aisle looming over her. Stares at the tile she’s lying on.

               “...Ma’am? Ma’am?”

               The woman from the cash register is shaking her shoulder. She looks up.

               “You passed out, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

               “Hospital…” Marie blinks. “No, I should call out.”

               The woman says more words, but at that moment her phone buzzes. She can feel it in her pocket; it’s uncomfortable, pressed against the tile. She sits up and takes it out.

               “Oh, I have a text. From Ben.”

               “Ma’am?”

               She unlocks her phone. “One second, sorry.”

               Scrolling over to her text messages, she begins to read:

               Hi Mom. Had a great time w you yesterday, hope youre doing well. Would love to meet up again sometime, maybe go and see a movie or something? You can text or call me when youre free and I can make it work. Love you.

               There’s a flicker at the edge of her vision as she gets to the end. She sees that, and she feels the hardness of the store tile she’s sitting on, and she thinks this is probably not what Ben meant by ‘doing well’.

               A grim smile. She's gone and let him down again, it seems.

#transcendence au #Ben Can't Sleep #toothwrites

[starryeyedsweetheart]

Hotel Hatred

Author: @starryeyedsweetheart

Pairing: Tom Holland & Reader

Word Count: 2250

Note: maybe a part two, depends on how ambitious i’m feeling ;) also lemme know if you want to be on any of my taglists

When it came to acting in the new Spiderman movie that will have Marvel fans combust from the pure brilliance of it, I loved it.

When it came to spending all my time with Tom Holland because I was playing his love interest, I hated it.

Nothing in the world could get my blood boiling faster than that idiotic boy opening his lipless mouth. There’s nothing truly wrong with him...except for his inability to shut the hell up when it came to the movie plot, or the way he doesn’t ever shut up in general. Don’t even get me started on his cockiness. Sure, he can do a couple flips and shit. So what? Half the time, he lands right on his stupid face and those are probably the best moments of my life.

The hatred I have for him is not one sided. Believe me when I tell you that Tom hates me just as much as I despise him. Getting caught between our intense glares can probably murder an animal as large as an elephant if looks could really kill.

I’m not quite sure why this mutual resentment for one another began. Just from meeting him, I could already feel the uneasiness bubble within my stomach. I’ve heard that he was polite, but somehow that trait of his flew out the window ten minutes into meeting him.

Somehow, our on screen chemistry is nothing like our offscreen screaming matches and snide remarks. The directors actually loved how well we work when we’re faking any ounce of kindness to one another. To me, Peter Parker could own my heart in the blink of an eye. And then, when I blink myself back into reality and see Tom’s smug face, I want to vomit.

And just the idea of kissing him tomorrow has my head spinning a million miles an hour as I’m sprawled out on my hotel room bed. I’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour, not understanding why the thought of making out with him is keeping me up. I’m sure it’s the absolute resentment I feel towards him, but my hatred for him has never kept me up before.

So, I curl myself into the sheets of the mattress, hugging the blankets to my chest as warmth fills me up. I snuggle deeper into comfort, eyes shut peacefully and I feel it.

I feel the sweet satisfaction of slumber rocking me to peace...until my eyes snap open to the shrill, sharp sound of rapid booms against my hotel door.

“Who the hell?” I grumble groggily, forcefully throwing the covers off my body in a fit of anger. The knocking continues as I stomp across the room to the front door. Swinging it open, my eyes meet a familiar pair of beady brown ones before slamming the door shut.

Before hearing that satisfying click of the lock, Tom’s arm is propped up against the door, successfully stopping me. I groan, letting him pushing open once again.

“I can’t sleep,” he says.

“Well, I can.”

I go to shut the door, this time harsher. Still, Tom quickly shoves his foot in between, barely flinching from the quick movement.

“Can I come in, already? It’s quite rude of you to leave a guest out in the hallway.” I squint at him like he was the dirt at the bottom of my shoe. Pursing my lips, I try to quench the bitter taste he leaves in my mouth just from speaking. He sighs loudly and dramatically. “I haven’t got all night, Y/L/N.”

“What if I do?”

“I know you’re an immortal, demonic being, but—Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he suddenly shouts as I go to slam the door once again. I slowly pull it back open, brows furrowing at his frantic yelling. Taking a good look at him, I finally realized how disheveled and messy he looks.

His curly hair was a bird’s nest atop his head, almost if he had been tugging and running his fingers through the waves nonstop. His t-shirt was wrinkled like he had been tossing and turning in bed. Tom’s brown eyes were unbelievably tired, and I couldn’t put a finger on why he looked like shit more than usual.

“Are you alright?” I question wearily, voice void of concern. I was more suspicious than anything.

“I just…” He sighs again. Are his lungs okay? What’s with all the constant sighing? “I need to talk to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Y/L/N.”

“Hold up,” I open the door a little wider, propping my hand against my hip and narrowing my eyes. “Me?”

Tom frustratedly throws his hands in the air. “Yes, okay! It’s you I need to have a conversation with in the middle of night. You’re the only person I can talk to about this. If coming here was a waste of time, then I’ll just go.”

He turns to leave, and watching his back as he took a step triggered something inside of me. I open the door a little wider, the creaking of the hinges causing Tom to look over his shoulder. He stares at me in disbelief and I roll my eyes.

“Well, are you coming in or what?”

A few moments pass as he awkwardly shuffles in past me, his natural scent passing me by. Due to it being the middle of the night, his nauseating cologne isn’t drenching his outfit. Night-time Tom is more pleasing. He takes a seat at the foot of my bed, folding his hands in his lap. Tom’s back was straight, as if being in my presence made him feel he should be alert 24/7.

I stare at him skeptically. His eyes didn’t seem as beady, even in this dim lighting. His jaw wasn’t clenched in the obvious anger he always had for me. From the way his fingers fidgeted, it was almost like he was nervous. But I wasn’t buying it for one second.

I lean up against the wall across from the bed, arms crossed and waiting. The silence between us was suffocating, my heart suddenly missing our continuous banter and arguing. Tom just sitting there, perfectly innocent just this once, was messing with my head. I couldn’t help but feel nervous, my heart racing at the sight of him.

“Frog got your tongue?” I inquire.

Tom lets out a soft, tired laugh that suddenly twists my heart. “It’s hard,” he shrugs. “Saying what I want to say while also saying it right.”

“Tom, it’s three o’clock in the morning, and I have no idea what you just tried to tell me.”

“I’m nervous about kissing you tomorrow,” he quickly blurts out.

My eyes widen in surprise before I push myself off the wall to stand. “Uh, what?” I utter in complete confusion. That’s what’s keeping him up, too? Too. What is going on?

“I know we have great onscreen chemistry, but what if we’re not good enough actors? What if we can’t pull off kissing each other?” he starts to ramble, standing up and pacing the room. His fingers find themselves in his hair, just like I thought they would. “I don’t wanna mess this up. This is such a big movie. And what if we have to kiss like multiple times because we can’t get it right. This is Marvel, we’re talking about here. They’ll want it to be good. What if we can’t make it good, Y/N?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” I interrupt. My head was spinning from his constant talking. The sound of my first name leaving his lips surprisingly didn’t leave a raging fire of annoyance in my stomach like it usually would. “It’s kissing, Holland. It can’t be that hard.”

“It is when two people hate each other.”

“And you had to come all the way to my room to remind me of our shared hatred because?” I ask, wanting him to finish my sentence.

Tom halts. He stands a couple feet in front of me, chest heaving up and down from the continuous ranting. “Because…” he trails off. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “I have a solution but I don’t know if you’d want to do it.”

Pursing my lips, I put some thought into it. Some real thought. I hate to admit it, but the idea of screwing up the entire scene because of a petty hatred for one another terrified me. This movie is my one shot at getting my name out into the acting world. I want to pursue my dream, prove those who mocked me wrong. Despite the small part of spite thrashing about in my stomach, there was also my heart yearning for this. All my life, all I wanted to do was act. This was my dream job. I’m literally living the dream, and I can’t let something as meaningless as one kiss with a stupid boy ruin it.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask, feeling my shoulders slump in defeat. Again, it was three in the morning. There’s no point in trying to keep up this never ending facade of hating Tom anymore, not when he seemed just as defenseless.

“You might want to sit down for this,” he suggests.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I quip.

His lips turn into another dopey, tired smile. “This won’t work if you’re going to be a brat.”

I mock him, my voice tainted with an English accent that only pulled a laugh from his throat. He sits back down at the foot of my bed, eyes staring up at me with a newfound patience. Something about it made my stomach turn. Tom pats the space beside him and I feel a string snap inside of me as I find myself slowly sitting next to him.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers. I don’t have time to respond as he gently grabs my hands, his own enveloping mine in this comfortable warmth. My heart slams against my chest, and I almost choke it down when it suddenly gets stuck in my throat.

“Barely,” I croak, not missing my palms turn clammy.

In response, his thumbs soothingly rubs at the back of my hand. I honestly melt into his touch.

“Stop me at any time you feel uncomfortable, alright?” he murmurs. I nod slowly, suddenly losing my ability to form any coherent words. Tom nibbles at his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. “I’m going to do it now,” he says, words trailing off into an uncertain end.

“Just do it,” I mumble and his lips curl into a silly little grin before he leans in and softly presses his lips against mine. In a matter of seconds, his hands find a familiar home around my waist as he pulls me closer into him. We move against one another with cautious actions, my hands clumsily gripping at the hair on his neck.

For a short second, one beautiful and heart wrenching second, I feel the switch in my brain click. All those times where we were yelling back and forth. Those moments where my eyes linger a little longer on him when we glare. The reason why my heart jumps at the sight of him. It all makes sense.

Kissing him, liking him, made sense.

He pulls away all too soon, barely giving me time to register how much I truly wanted this. Tom’s chest heaves up and down as he cockily smirks at me. “Alright, so maybe it won’t be so bad tomorrow,” he smiles.

“Tom, I-” My confession barely rolled off my tongue before he clapped his hands together and stood up, leaving nothing but cold air and loneliness beside me.

“Great acting, Y/L/N. I always forget you have it in you to be likable at times.”

My heart plummets to a deeper part of me I didn’t know existed. “W-What?” I stutter out, eyes still blinking in and out of reality. Or maybe blinking back tears I didn’t know I had yet.

“We’ll be fine for the scene tomorrow. I can finally go to sleep with a clear conscience,” Tom says, completely unaware of the feelings I was harboring inside of me.

“That was it? Your plan was to just kiss me to test the waters?” I ask, voice a little more defensive and high pitched than what I’d hope.

He furrows his brow. “Uh, yeah. That kiss was just that. A kiss. Nothing more. Nothing less.” My heart twists and Tom’s posture suddenly falters. “Why? Did that mean something to you?”

No. It’s late and I’m tired. Of course it didn’t mean anything. Or maybe it meant everything.

I shake my head, the resentment I had for Tom creeping back up my spine. I couldn’t find it in myself to yell at him, fight another pointless argument. I just usher him out of my hotel room in an anxious fit before he’s in the hallway and I’m hiding behind the door once again. I barely mutter a bitter good night before his hand is stopping me from closing the door once again.

“Wait, that didn’t mean anything, right?” he asks, voice dripping in an emotion I couldn’t decipher.

My chest aches. My nose twitches while a sour taste is left in the back of my tongue. I try to shake the feelings out of my system. I attempt to cleanse myself from the flood of thoughts suddenly crashing over my brain in a fatal tsunami.

“Never,” I spit out, avoiding his eyes. “Nothing that happens between us could ever mean anything.”

--

taglist: @me-a-hopeless-romantic @ellie24avery @embrace-themagic

#starryeyedstories #tom holland #tom #holland #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom imagine #tom imagines #tom holland x reader #tom x reader #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader