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#a platonic gesture. let alone anything else or worse. but still him having feelings for her at all. even if he doesn't act on them. is bad
fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months
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make it work (mv33)
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max x reader , george x reader (platonic) , toto x reader (paternal)
summary: you and max try to find a way to make your now very public relationship work
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The following days after the Twitter reveal are spent staying inside Max’s apartment. Neither of you really leaves unless absolutely necessary. There’s a thick tension in the air now as well, as if you’re both walking on broken glass.
When it’s finally time for the next grand prix and your meeting with Toto you and Max discuss how you’re going to enter the paddock. In fear of making things worse you make the decision to not go in together, that way there’s less of a chance you’ll be swarmed by reporters.
You come in with George, who’s quick to put an arm over your shoulders and steer you away from any cameras.
“Netflix would have a field day.” He says under his breath as he pulls you towards the Mercedes building.
George lets you go once you’ve made it inside, looking around at all of the other Mercedes employees. Some of them give you weird looks, like they’re judging you, but most give you sympathetic glances, as if they know how all of this is going to play out.
You watch all of the media panels throughout the day. Whenever asked about your relationship Lewis says he had no idea what was going on, George says it was a surprise to everyone but he wishes the best for all parties involved, and Max snaps that he’s only there to talk about racing, nothing else.
Max meets with you after press is done for the day, the two of you heading into the Mercedes building to speak with Toto.
George exits the office just as you’re about to go in. He gives you a sympathetic smile and squeezes your hand.
You enter the office with Max behind you. Sitting behind the desk is Toto, looking down at some paperwork. Standing next to him is Christian Horner. You’re surprised to see the two of them together and not biting each other’s heads off.
“Sit.” Toto gestures to the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk. He looks up at you as you sit down, and tosses his glasses onto the desk.
You all stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if deciding who should speak first. Toto is the one to break the silence.
“Do the two of you realize what kind of trouble you have caused us?” His asks quietly. His eyes travel back and forth between you and Max. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t fire George, he’s still got a few years on his contract.” He points at Max. “I can’t fire you, because you’re not my driver.” Then he looks at you. “But Y/n, you are my assistant. You are the person I entrust with handling a lot of work that would be detrimental to the team if a rival were to find out.”
“I swear I haven’t said anything about anything.” You shake your head.
“It’s true.” Max chimes in. “She hasn’t spilled any secrets. It wouldn’t matter anyway though, seeing as I’m driving the better car.”
Christian laughs, only stopping when Toto gives him a stern look.
“The point is the two of you need to sort this out. Tell everyone that this was just a fling and it’s over.” Toto says.
“That’s not happening.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.
Christian sighs. “I told you he was stubborn.”
He looks at Max who just stares back up at him. You’d seen moments between the two of them before. They shared a father-son type of relationship. It was clear that Christian truly cared for Max and only wanted the best for him.
“We’re not breaking up. So find another solution to your problem.” Max looks back at Toto.
Toto glances back at you. “Y/n, I’d like to speak with you alone.”
Christian walks towards the door while Max turns to you.
“I’ll be fine.” You nod, giving him a soft smile.
He stands up, leans down to kiss the top of your head, then follows Christian out.
“That’s quite the headstrong young man.” Toto pulls your attention back to him.
“He cares about the people he loves.”
“And he loves you?” Toto raises a brow.
You feel your face heat up. “I mean, I think so. He’s sweet to me. He takes care of me.”
“And you love him?”
“Yes.” The answer comes out quicker than you expected.
Toto sighs, then stands up and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against it. “I care about you Y/n. You’re the first assistant I’ve had that’s been able to keep up with all the work I’ve piled on them. You get along well with both Lewis and George. You’re a lovely person. But dating Max Verstappen is a line I didn’t think you’d cross.”
You sink down in your seat, just waiting for the final blow.
“I trust that you haven’t given him any information about us. And I believe that you do for some reason truly care about that menace of a boy outside.” He nods towards the door. “So I’m sure that there’s a way we can make sure this works for everyone.”
You sit up straighter as your eyes search Toto’s for any chance that he’s lying.
“Really?”
“You’ll both beed to sign a few NDAs, but I’m sure it will be manageable.” He nods.
Before you can stop yourself, you stand up and wrap your arms around Toto, pulling him into a hug. He slowly pats your shoulders, returning your hug in an awkward way.
“Thank you. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.” Your eyes well up with tears.
“We’ll see. Just make sure I don’t see a Red Bull driver wandering around our garage.” He says with a smile.
You nod, then exit Toto’s office. Max leans against the wall next to the door, not having even left the hall. He cups your face with his hands. “You’re crying. What happened?”
“Nothing, they’re good tears.” You grin at him. “You were right. Everything’s okay.”
He smiles. “When have I ever been wrong?” He wraps his arms around your waist.
He leans down to kiss you just as the door to the office swings open.
“No Red Bull drivers allowed in the Mercedes building. Out.” Toto nods down the hall.
Over the next few days lawyers draw up NDAs for both you and Max to sign. He complains about it while you scribble your name on the papers. He signs just under your name though, promising he won’t reveal any secret Red Bull information to you.
It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after you sign the forms, like you’re no longer buried under this huge secret anymore.
You can walk through the paddock hand in hand now. You can give him a good luck kiss before he has to go to his garage. And you can finally be there to celebrate his wins with him.
The Red Bull photographers snap a photo of the two of you after that race. Max tugs his helmet off his head, then practically runs over to you. You stand with the other Mercedes staff, your white polo clashing with his blue race suit. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his skin shines with sweat, but the smile on his face is breathtaking. He pulls you into a kiss over the fence. It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, and the crowd screams their heads off.
Later that night you see a notification from Instagram. It’s a shared post, from both Red Bull and Mercedes.
redbullracing and mercedesamgf1
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liked by georgerussell63 and 58,635 others
tagged: maxverstappen1 and yourusername
redbullracing Our favorite couple on the grid 💙❤️ + 🩵🤍
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sammysvanfeet · 1 year
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Maroon - Sam Kiszka/Reader
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Synopsis: Sam and Y/N are best friends. After a night of drinking wine, things escalate between them. Some lines cannot be uncrossed. (It's a little angsty besties!!!!)
Please let me know if there is an issue with dark mode and I'll get it fixed asap <3
Word count: 4.7k
*WARNINGS*: MINORS DNI!!! alcohol use, swearing, unprotected sex
A room never felt full without Sam Kiszka in it. His personality and infectious energy could brighten even the most desolate of spaces. I felt his presence before I saw him, heard his boisterous laugh reverberate through the rented out restaurant where I currently found myself observing from the sidelines. The band’s label were having some kind of party, with all the hot shots and powerful people in the music industry. I wasn’t really a fan of things like this, rubbing elbows and making connections. I usually preferred to be more of a homebody, but when Sam had asked me to be his date tonight I had jumped at the chance. ‘Platonically’ he’d reminded me, on more than one occasion. 
I smoothed out the wrinkles of my maroon dress, hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put into my outfit tonight. After all, I was accompanying a Kiszka – I had to look good. He made his rounds first before coming to find me, greeting friends and strangers alike with warm smiles and firm handshakes. He looked good, despite wearing the most simple of clothes – an all black tailored ensemble that was just casual enough to get away with in a place like this. I studied his face as he made conversation, noting the tick in his jaw when he heard something he didn't like and the telltale smirk he tried to hide when he heard something he approved of. See, I could always tell how Sam was feeling, often before he even knew it himself. I knew when he was mad or scared and I knew when he was filled with joy as he so often was. 
I watched as his expression changed once he had finally been left alone, but it wasn’t one of relief as I’d expected. No, this one was new. His eyes twinkled, his smile was wide but there was a hint of nervousness there. I saw the way he turned around slowly and scanned the crowded room. He was looking for someone and I was certain it wasn’t me. As much as I wanted to deny what was right in front of me, I couldn’t. He was looking for a girl.
The pit in my stomach opened wide and I wanted nothing more in this moment than for it to swallow me whole. I wanted to disappear into nothingness, anything was better than this again. I was always by his side, his faithful friend but he never saw me as anything else. Before I could even consider an Irish goodbye, his eyes found mine and he smiled fondly to cover up his disappointment… it was warm and familiar, the way best friends smile at each other. I almost think that was worse. 
“There you are, Princess!” He exclaimed, bouncing over to me and enveloping me in one of his famous bear hugs. 
“Oh, were you looking for me?” I questioned, knowing full well he wasn’t. 
“Of course! Who else would I be looking for?” He responded nonchalantly, twisting the knife inside my gut further. 
I simply scoffed and gave him a roll of my eyes, “You tell me.”
“You look great, by the way.” He changed the subject by gesturing to the silk mini dress I was wearing. The one I’d bought with him in mind, hoping it would be enough for him to look at me differently, to look at me with hunger and desire and not like a little sister. It wasn’t working, yet the blood still rushed to my cheeks, flushing red and betraying me. 
I bit down on my tongue hard enough to draw blood, I didn’t want to sound bitter, I didn’t want to spew all the toxic anger I felt brewing inside of me. This was Sam, my happy go lucky best friend. I had to plaster on my biggest, fakest smile and act happy for him. 
“Soooo… who is she?” I elbowed him playfully. 
He looked at me shocked then, clearly believing he was much more inconspicuous than he truly was. His expression faltered for a moment and I knew he was considering lying to me. Maybe he knew how I felt and wanted to spare my feelings. Either way, he thought better of it and scratched his chin sheepishly, a nervous tick of his. 
“Her name is Scarlet.” He relented. “She’s over there - auburn hair, black dress, great tits.”
“Samuel!” I scolded, slapping him in the chest. He wasn’t wrong though. I quickly located the smoke show he was lusting after. She was beautiful. It would have been a lot easier on me if she wasn’t, but that was Sam’s type, I had come to learn. His conquests were leggy and gorgeous - talented musicians or Instagram models, it depended on the week. He had a tendency of getting bored but luckily for him he had a rolodex full of girls he could call up when he wanted a quick fuck. 
“You’re my date, not her. I can hit her up after this is over.”
“Gee, thanks. Way to make me feel special.”
“Oh come on, you know you’re my best girl, don’t you?”
“Mhm.” I waved him off, “Why don’t you go talk to her? I can come find you later. I’m starving and the buffet looks to die for.” 
I watched as he sauntered off, slinking up behind her and resting his hand on her hip. She looked up at him as he towered over her and smiled so sickly sweet that it made me gag. I wanted to slap that stupid smile right off of her surgically enhanced face. I was certain that I was green with envy right now and I’m sure everyone who looked my way could see it, too.
Spinning on my heel in disgust, I made my way to the buffet table to peruse the options. They all looked incredible but my appetite was currently nonexistent. I pretended to consider the choices in front of me, sparing a glance to Sam and his bimbo every now and then, torturing myself even more.
“You’re not very good at hiding your feelings, you know that?” 
“Shit!” I clawed at my chest, stilling my racing heart. “Jake, you scared me!”
He chuckled at me, before beginning to pile his plate high with an assortment of fancy hor d'oeuvres… mini quiches and galletes, steak crostinis and deviled eggs.
“You’re a glutton, you know that.” I teased, nodding to his plate. Jake always had a way of making me feel comfortable, in a way Sam couldn’t – despite being my best friend’s older brother.
“Being this talented and sexy works up an appetite.” He winked, “So when are you going to tell Sammy boy how you feel about him?”
I sent daggers his way, hoping I looked intimidating but Jake continued to laugh at my expense.
“He doesn’t feel that way about me.” I whispered, sparing a glance in Sam’s direction, afraid he suddenly developed supersonic hearing.
“Mmm, so what’s your plan? Spend the rest of your life being strung along by him?”
“Stop.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Just know you deserve so much better than how he treats you – how he treats any woman. You deserve someone who gives you the world.” He spoke with such tenderness that it surprised me, before realizing his vulnerability. He held his free hand up and began to walk backwards, “But if you ever want to know what it’s like to be with a real man, you know where to find me.” He said, teasingly.
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes, “Thank you, Jake.”
“Any time. I mean it… Princess.” He teased before disappearing completely into the crowded room.
Alone with my thoughts once again, I decide to have a liquid dinner instead and approach the bar to order a glass of Cabernet. I told myself that I was going to nurse this drink but left to my own devices one quickly turned into four and I found that I was actually comfortable enough to make small talk with the bartender. He was surprisingly quite funny and had me giggling in no time. His blue eyes widened in surprise every time one of his jokes landed and I found it kind of adorable. His hair was much too blonde and too short than the guys I usually went for, but I found myself enjoying his company so when he asked for my number and handed me a pen and cocktail napkin, I started scrawling my number without hesitation. I then folded it gently and placed a delicate kiss to the outside, leaving a lipstick print in the same color that painted my lips — “Hail Cherry”.
“What do you think you're doing?” Sam questioned from over my shoulder.
I squealed in surprise before bursting into a fit of drunken giggles, “Sammy!! Where have you been?”
“Uh, nowhere. I’m kind of over this party. Do you wanna come home with me?” He ran his hand through his hair, he was feeling impatient. I smiled to myself, feeling giddy at the thought that he just wanted to be with me alone. 
The bartender interjected, “Hey man, she’s had a bit to drink, I don’t think you should be asking her to go home with you.”
“Hey buddy. For the record, she’s my best friend. If she’s had that much to drink, do you really think you should be getting her number?”
Is it me or did he sound jealous? I smiled to myself as he reached for my hand and led me through the crowd. I felt dizzy with excitement, his hand felt warm and at home in my own and I never wanted him to let go. As we exited the restaurant, the chill of the evening temperatures nipped at my exposed skin. He shed his blazer and wrapped me up in it without me even asking. I reached for his hand again and he didn't resist, instead he squeezed my hand affirmingly and led me to his Tesla, opening the door for me and guiding me in. I felt a funny feeling in my tummy, butterflies were fluttering and I felt nerves and excitement bubbling up. 
He adjusted the radio, Fleet Foxes played in the background as he expertly weaved through traffic on the streets of East Nashville. I spent much of the short drive with my head turned towards him, resting on the head rest as I gazed in admiration. I’d usually be embarrassed to stare but the wine had my inhibitions thrown to the wind and I drank in the beautiful man in front of me. 
“What are you staring at?” He teased.
“You.” I simply responded, voice low and sultry. 
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m tipsy!” I said defensively. 
“Hi Tipsy, I’m Sam.” 
I groaned, “That was terrible. I hate your Dad jokes.” That wasn’t exactly true, I had grown quite fond of them but he didn’t need to know that. 
He snickered and turned up the music, bopping his head along in time. Once we’d arrived at his house, he came over to the passenger side to hold open my door, waiting patiently as I fiddled with the seat buckle. I took his awaiting hand as he led me to his front door — was he holding my hand so I wouldn’t stumble or because he missed how our fingers slotted together?
Not even five seconds after the door had swung open, the sound of four paws pitter-pattering approached us. “Rosieeee!” I squealed, crouching down to the floor to pet the Pitbull. She licked my face enthusiastically. 
“Were you good for me, Rose?” Sam scratched the back of her head before wandering further into the house, heading for the wine rack in his dining room. 
“What do you have in there?” I questioned, nosily. 
“I have some reds, a white or two and a rosé. It’s not chilled though.”
“Hmmm, give me the rosé.”
“The whole bottle?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 
“Yes. I’m not saying I’m gonna finish it but I want it to myself!”
He scoffed playfully, “Well that’s fine because I wanted this Merlot anyway. Much more dignified.”
It was my turn to scoff at him now. I made my way to his living room while he poured our wine and I selected a record to put on while I waited for him. James Bay’s voice crooning filled the room, traveling down the halls to the kitchen where Sam searched for wine glasses. I smiled at how domestic and romantic it felt. I decided to go through the little basket of incense next to his vinyl shelf when Rose came curiously sniffing up beside me. 
“Which one do you think?” I waited for her to peruse the options, “Dragon’s Blood? Good choice.”
I placed the lit incense stick into the custom wooden holder, before catching my slightly disheveled reflection in the oversized accent mirror. I quickly wiped up my running mascara and smoothed down my hair, hoping to have made myself a little more presentable.
“I come bearing wine!” Sam announced before sniffing dramatically, “Is that Dragon’s Blood?”
I nodded, smiling, “Rose picked it.”
He set down the full glasses and our respective bottles on the coffee table behind me, before handing me my rosé. Sam sat himself down on the floor, scooting closer to me, before clinking the two of our drinks together to ‘cheers’. The music provided the perfect ambiance as we sipped our wine and enjoyed each other’s company. I hummed along as ‘Wild Love’ began to play, the lyrics hitting me right in my heart.
I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down. I wanna take you high up, let our hearts be the only sound. I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine. I wanna give you wild love.
“Of course you would like a cheesy song like this.” Sam scoffed.
I pouted, a little stung by his words, “I love this song.”
❋ ❋ ❋
The smoke from the incense curled and wafted throughout the room, making everything appear to be hazy. The bottles got lighter and the more glasses we had drunk, the louder we got. At some point, the record needed to be flipped but the music was long forgotten and now it was just our giggles and playful banter filling the room. Luckily Rose had padded off to her crate at some point, too tired of us keeping her awake. 
“…So then I threw the drink at him!” I gestured wildly, reenacting a story I’d trailed off from several times at that point. 
“There’s no way! You’re too nice for that” 
“Oh Sammy boy.” I giggled, “There’s a side to me you haven’t seen.”
He smirked, eyes darkening, “There’s a lot of you I haven’t seen.”
I gulped, feeling the tension in the room get thick. He licked his lips and trailed his eyes down my body unapologetically. He reached out so slowly to run his fingers up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until he got to the thin strap holding my dress up at my shoulder and carefully guided it down. I inhaled a shaky breath but I didn’t stop him as those deft fingers traveled along my collar bone to the other strap, nudging it gently until the fabric of my dress had fallen and was now pooling around my waist. I shyly covered my exposed chest, momentarily regretting not wearing a bra. 
“Don’t hide from me, Princess.” His voice was husky, “I want to see all of you.”
He leaned in slowly, cradling my cheek and looking from my eyes to my lips — silently asking for permission. I nodded once before his lips were connected with mine. The kiss felt different than I had imagined, it was messy and hungry, not soft and sweet. But I wanted him, oh how I wanted him. His tongue begged for entrance and I let him in, feeling dizzy at the way our mouths danced as they got acquainted with one another. We kissed and kissed for what felt like an eternity, but it would never be long enough for me. 
I pull away to breathe, lungs burning, “I think we might be making a mistake.” I said, but my head was swimming and my pulse was racing. I wanted this so bad.
“That’s a problem for tomorrow.” He whispered, before crashing his lips into mine.
Once again our bodies had connected and I didn't even register the words he had just said to me. He guided me back onto his floor, just a thin antique rug separating me from the cold hardwood but I couldn’t have cared less. He climbed over me, hands grabbing everywhere as he clumsily pulled my dress down my thighs, too impatient or too intoxicated to remove it in its entirety. My lace panties soon followed, part of me hoped he would comment on them, how pretty they looked on me, but he was too wrapped up in lust and I couldn’t blame him. I just needed to feel him inside of me.
I reached out to untie his belt, struggling to unknot the white shoelace he so often used to hold up his pants. A few more failed attempts and he was tugging his pants and boxer briefs down and around his knees. 
“Wow.” I exhaled nervously, taking in his hard cock before me. I wasn’t sure what I had expected it to look like. He was groomed enough, an average size but nothing to marvel at.
“I’m going to make you feel good.” He cooed, placing a chaste kiss to my lips as he lined himself up and plunged inside of me. 
It burned and stretched me in a way that took me by surprise, but I felt full and wanted. He began to move, thrusting deeply as he kissed and sucked little burgundy marks on my neck. 
“You’re squeezing me so tight.” He grunted out. “I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be inside of you.”
“You have?” I questioned softly, tears pricking at my eyes from his words. He didn’t respond, his hips didn’t falter, he just moaned softly against the shell of my ear. The sound was so uninhibited, so intimate that it had me clenching around him, a silent encouragement for him to keep going.
The rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, so wet and loud, almost concealed our breathy moans and desperate whimpers. Sam was moving faster now, hitting a spot inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. My hips rocked into him, meeting each and every one of his thrusts, fucking him in return as I clawed at his back, nails digging deeply into his flesh. I felt the way his muscles rippled, how his shoulders flexed under the weight of holding himself above me. I wanted to leave marks, I wanted everyone to know what we had done together. I wanted to claim him as mine.
“Do you wanna turn around, baby?” Sam whispered between nips to my jaw, but all I wanted was for him to gaze into my eyes as we reached our peaks. “Get on all fours and present that pretty ass for me?”
“Mhmmm.” I mumbled in response, gently pushing him off of me so I could turn over.
I climbed up onto my hands and knees when Sam reached out to touch me. I held my breath as I anticipated his hands grabbing my hips or even spanking my ass, but instead he began to caress my back gently, his touch so tender and soft that it made my heart swell. “Your back is all red and raw, you must have got rug burn. Why didn’t you tell me it hurt?” Oh. That’s why he was being so delicate with me now.
I peered back over my shoulder, watching his fingers trace the splotchy marks, “I guess I just didn’t feel it.”
“And I guess I was just fucking you too good.” He smirked. 
“I guess so.” I whispered, turning my head back around as he slid back inside of me. His hands immediately found purchase on my hips and gripped hard enough to leave marks, he pulled me against him, fucking me roughly. I screwed my eyes closed as he pounded into me harshly, my neglected clit was throbbing and begging for his touch but it never came. I snaked my own hand down between my legs and began to circle my aching bud, wondering whether or not Sam would even notice.
“God, that’s fucking hot.” He choked out.
My eyes flew open, how did he know I was touching myself? That’s when I remembered the mirror that sat against his wall, I tried to find his gaze in the reflection but he wasn’t looking at my face. He was watching his cock slide in and out of me, he was watching my tits bounce – hell he was even watching my hand move. But he wasn’t really looking at me.
“Are you close?” He grunted out.
“Yes.” I lied.  
“Cum for me.” He instructed. And then I did what I never imagined I’d have to do. With the man I thought I was in love with still inside of me, I opened my mouth and moaned, fake and exaggerated which only served to spur him on. He still refused to meet my eyes, but I felt him pull out and I watched in the mirror as he jerked himself off onto my back, the wet sticky sensation soon following.
I lowered myself down onto the floor, laying on my stomach with my eyes closed, trying to process what had just happened. My head was still swimming from the wine and the adrenaline. 
I heard Sam shuffling around, presumably redressing before he left the room momentarily, returning with a small towel. “Umm, this is for… you know.” He gestured to his cum that had started to drip off of me and onto his fancy rug. I hate that rug.
“Thanks.” I took the towel and wiped myself clean, feeling so meek and confused, before pulling my underwear and dress back up.
“Uhh, it’s late. I can take the couch if you want.” He offered, awkwardly.
“I don’t mind sharing your bed.” I said, meekly.
“Okay. That’s fine. I’m too tired for round two right now, though.” He joked, exiting the room without inviting me to follow.
I padded down his hallway, stopping to use the bathroom and finish cleaning myself up. The house was quiet as I headed for Sam’s room, hoping he had had the courtesy to set out a t-shirt for me to change into. He hadn’t. He was already snoring, soundly asleep. 
I climbed under the covers, still in my dress and scooted in closer to his warm body. I let myself pretend for a moment that we were sharing his bed because he wanted to, because he loved me and not because he thought it was the polite thing to do after a drunken fuck. I lay in the dark, staring into nothingness with a pit in my stomach. Something about this moment felt monumental, but it didn’t feel like the start of something new – it felt like the end. My chest hurt as I felt overcome with emotion, but the wine still flowing in my veins numbed the pain a little bit, and for that I was thankful. I began to feel tired, my eyes fluttered closed as I focused on the steady sound of Sam’s snores and I let it lull me into a deep sleep. 
❋ ❋ ❋
The early morning light began to stream through the window, the curtains were still open. We had been too intoxicated to close them the night before. I sat up carefully, bracing my fragile body. My head was pounding and I felt an ache between my thighs. I definitely had way too much to drink. 
“How did I end up in your bed?” I looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, utterly confused. But there was no response, Sam’s side of the bed was empty.
I slipped out of his room, listening for any sign of Sam. I could hear a muffled voice coming from somewhere, coupled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, which guided me into his kitchen.
“It didn’t mean anything–” He whispered, holding his phone to his ear.
“Sam?” I called out, confused.
“Oh shit. Hey.” He responded, looking guilty. “I gotta go, I’ll call later.” He said to the person on the other end of the phone before disconnecting the call.
“Who was that?”
“Oh… uh, Jake.” His eyes were shifty, unable to stay focused. He wasn’t being truthful. Suddenly the memories of the night before came crashing back, taking me out like a tidal wave.
“Oh my god. We had sex last night.” I felt the color drain from my face. My stomach lurched, from the hangover or the regret, I do not know.
“It was a mistake.” He responded. 
I closed my eyes and inhaled a shaky breath, willing myself not to cry in front of him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the tears at bay and suddenly the dam burst, hot tears streaming down my face as I began to sob. I couldn’t even look at him, I felt angry and disgusted and utterly heart broken.
“Why did you go through with it if it’s not what you wanted?” I sobbed. “Why did you leave with me, Sam? Is it because you really would have rather been with me?” I begged, but he only looked at me with such pity, a look I never wanted to see from him. “Tell me the truth!”
“Scarlet had other plans, she left with someone else.” He whispered, a single tear of guilt falling down his cheek.
“Oh my god.” I backed away from him, pushing off of the kitchen counter, “Are you serious? How could you not tell me the truth? Is that who you were on the phone with just now?”
“I, I was sad and I was lonely and I really did just want to be with you but you were here and you wanted it too, Y/N.” He said, almost too defensively.
I laughed darkly, a stark contrast to the streaming tears that were forming a small puddle on the floor, “I can’t believe you. I have watched you play dozens of women but I was truly a fool to think that you wouldn’t have played me.”
“No, it’s not like that. You’re my best friend. I love you.”
“Don’t!” I spat. “Don’t say those fucking words to me.”
“But it’s true. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“Not anymore.” I seethed.
“What?”
“Sam, I can’t do this. I can’t watch you be with anyone else. You know how I feel, and I know you use that to your advantage so that I’m always there for you whenever you need me. I can’t do this, I can’t love you like a friend and I sure as hell don’t want to love you as anything more than that.”
“Please don’t leave me.” He was sobbing now too and if I believed it, I’d say he was almost as devastated as I was. “I need you.”
“Just not in the way I want to be needed.”
I watched him as he trembled, he tugged at his unkempt hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes. I’d always looked at him like he’d put the stars in the sky but as I took him in now, it was like I was seeing him for who he really, truly was. This wasn’t my Sam, this was someone else entirely. I slowly rose to my feet, moving to collect my belongings as he begged and pleaded with me to stay, imploring my forgiveness but I could not settle any longer. I deserved better. 
I began to head to the door, not before stopping briefly to pet sweet Rose who tilted her head in confusion at all of the chaos. 
“Be good, sweet girl..” I said as I kissed her head and gave her what would be her final scratches. I didn’t look back at Sam for fear I would reconsider, that I would break down and forgive him. No, this time I held my head high and looked anywhere but his eyes before leaving him with these final words, “This is goodbye, Sam.”
TAG LIST: @celestialfauna @streamsofstardust @doodle417 @theweightofjake @turtleskane @morganic-goods @loofypoofy @jakeslovehandles @emsgvf @jakeyboiiiiiii @way-to-go-lad @fleet-prodigy @age-of-nyahh @gvfrry @greta-flanveet @jakekiszkasguitarpick @kdarling1 @theweightofstardust @mintysammykiszka @lvnterninthenight @jakesgrapejuice @thecoldwind @brokenbellz @myownparadise96 @loveisonaroll @joshkiszkas
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Note
What are all your Kingdom Hearts pairings?
I am so sorry I never answered this:( I kept meaning to, but every time I’d get distracted with family being over for the holidays.
I used to have a ton of KH ships, but I’ve kind of cooled down on a lot of them now (for some reason. IDK why I think I’m just not as interested in romance as I used to be. I still love it, of course, but now I value other kinds of relationships in series, too.) So for the most part, I’m really only going to tell you the ones I search for in the tags every day and maybe a few others.
SoKai is my ultimate OTP forever and ever. It always has been and it probably always will be. I don’t really ever see that changing. I should maybe mention that I also like the fandom’s invention (that I helped to create;)) of dark Sora and Kairi. And, yes: that even includes the rare dark Kairi… that I should really finish my fic of.
I love RokuShi a lot, but I’ve even cooled down on them a little. They used to be one of my ultimate OTPs–and to be fair, they still kind of are–and were my second favorite KH pairing (heck, there was a hot second where I even liked them more than SoKai. Weird, I know), but now they’re probably more equal with my other ships and most don’t even come close to reaching SoKai level for me.
Namiku. I love it a lot and mostly always have. RokuShi and Namiku are my ideal pairings when it comes to shipping Roxas, Xion, Riku, and Naminé with people. Though I do love RokuNami now, and have for a while.
Speaking of: RokuNami.
Terqua. But maybe not as much as the above. IDK. I’ve kind of flip-flopped on this one over the years. And KHIII really made me love them again… but at the same time, I’m okay with them being platonic and like siblings… which is apparently what their relationship in canon is, along with their relationships to Ven and vice versa. (According to the KHIII Journal and Ultimania).
Gulava. They’re precious and I love them a lot.
Skulmera.
PlayerStrelitzia.
Epheplayer (I’m also okay with SkuldPlayer, or EphemerSkuldPlayer being OT3d, but I probably prefer PlayerStrelitzia and Epheplayer first… and the latter one is funny, because I think I used to prefer SkuldPlayer over it. But not anymore. I blame all you people who make cute Epheplayer stuff:)
ElrenaStrelitzia.
VentusStrelitzia, because of the fandom. Because of the fandom (also with a side bit of VanitasStrelitzia because of the fandom). But not if Ven in any form is her killer.
IraInvi… just because of that one line in Back Cover about Invi not wanting the others “to get the wrong idea about them”… even though I kind of don’t like Ira that much (yet. Hopefully that’ll change), because he kind of feels like a wet blanket to me so far.
Maybe Aced and Invi, but just because of Terra and Aqua feeling somewhat similar to them, if I ship AcedInvi at all. I don’t know if I do. Also, maybe Ava and Invi. IDK. 
AkuSai.
XehanortEraqus, I guess (even though I hate Xehanort).
Xionami.
The one Sewer Squad girl with the newest girl added to the Sewer Squad?
SoRiKai… Because I can take the things I don’t like about S*Riku if Kairi’s involved, though it’s not my favorite (I’ll always prefer SoKai by itself. But I’ll still happily take SoRiKai posts, since it’s better than the alternative… which is Kairi being left out of everything, that I can’t stand).
RiKai. I ship RiKai a lot. Mainly because my old best friend loved loved loved loved them (and a few other of my RL friends, oddly enough), and she was always trying to pull me over to the RiKai side… And while I still prefer SoKai, she did make me like RiKai a lot. And because this pairing is made up of tropes people usually love, so I don’t get why it’s not more popular. And because their story in KHI (mainly on Riku’s side) breaks my heart in the best way possible.
Roxiri… for some reason. I blame awesome YouTube editors for this one.
Vanaqua (that I actually ship a lot, and also look for in the tags a lot. Even though I don’t love them as much as the first pairings I posted here, but still maybe moreso than some of the other ones I put in the middle here. I don’t know why I put this ship so low).
Vennami (same thing as VanAqua).
Venaqua… or at least I did until the age difference.
Vannami.
Slightly VaniKai now, but just for the good fan art.
Some Kailette…
SoNami in CoM only (and also kind of one-sided on Naminé’s part).
Replinami. But I probably don’t ship it as much as I should, especially if Nomura’s now trying to sell that Naminé’s always had some great love for him (that I don’t really buy, but shh).
Rion… but more because so much of the fandom ships them, and I feel I sort of have to because of that and not so much because I really want to. They’re okay. And I get why people ship them, but they’re kind of meh for me, but maybe getting a bit better. I’ve just… always had some issues with them (mainly that I feel like Riku kind of goaded Xion into committing suicide to save Sora: which is an issue I had with RokuNami for some time, too, and took me many years to get over for them. But now I have and they’re one of my fave pairings). But at the same time, I wouldn’t hate it if it happened.
Riku and Aqua, for some reason (though that darn age difference!). Maybe because I ship Terqua and this ship has stuff in common with it, and Riku’s sort of the version of Terra that passed with flying colors?
RikuShiki.
ZackAqua.
Perhaps Marluxia and Larxene, since I think that’s where the narrative is going. Perhaps.
Haynette. I also don’t mind Pencette. I also like Roxette quite a lot.
I shipped Larxel long ago, but not anymore. And yet I always feel the need to still put it down for some reason…
EphemerAva
Ira and Aced, maybe: they did have a good arc in Back Cover.
Brain and Lauriam, possibly, because of the fandom. I’ve seen some Ephemer ships here too, I think, that could be cute.
I feel like part of me would have shipped Sora and Roxas somewhat, if they weren’t Nobody and Other…
TerraVen a bit… Well, maybe I did a bit before I knew their ages… probably not now (I shipped them a bit back in the day, when I felt like in BbS they cared way more about each other than they ever did Aqua).
Xion and Repliku a bit… maybe. But I’d prefer them more to have a sibling bond.
Sora and Ariel for crack… and a bit of Sora and Rapunzel.
Terra and Cinderella and Aqua and Cinderella (also, Aqua and Philip) for the above reason. Maybe even Ven and Snow White.
Roxas and the Accessory Shop Girl for crack.
A bit of KairiXion.
Yozora and brown-haired Stella! I will go down with this ship, as I’ve been shipping “them” since Versus XIII, essentially. And maybe Yozora with some of his bros, but we’ll see.
There are probably some FF ones, too (though I don’t care about them that much)… usually the canon ones, like CloTi, Zerith, Clerith, TiYuna, Squinoa (because Nomura eluded long ago that she was a part of the fall of Radiant Garden and why Squall changed his name to Leon, in losing her for the time being), and maybe Seifer and Fuu. But I’m also okay with things like Selphie and Tidus, Leon and Yuffie, Leon and Aerith, and even Leon and Tifa because of one amv (where he started liking her in seeing her as a replacement for Rinoa, and then began to fall for her as her).
Oh, and Neku and Shiki… slight JoshNeku, and maybe Joshua and Rhyme (because I’m still somewhat Joshyme trash, gosh darnit) and some BeatJoshua (though this is moreso for TWEWY, of course, than KH. But they seem to be their true TWEWY selves in KH, so…)
All of the canon Disney couples, of course.
Edit: Maybe Ven and Skuld, now that Ven asked her to build a snowman together and all. Their interaction there was cute.
Aqua and Axel for crack.
…I realize I told you I was going to make this list short, and really I pretty much put everything I could think of. I apologize (and a lot of this did not end up in any good order whatsoever), but SoKai, RokuShi, Namiku, RokuNami, Terqua, Gulava, Skulmera, PlayerStrelitzia, and IraInvi (for some reason) are the ones I look for in the tags every day (also, Vanaqua. And sometimes Vennami). Then, it’s probably RiKai and SoRiKai at this point? With some of these others thrown in there? Like the “If Kairi died and sadly stayed dead, maybe Sora and Naminé could be a thing” kind of ones? Even though they don’t come close to the other ones? IDK.
Edit: XioRokuNami is a major one!
#oh also sora and olette for some reason. it's a weird crack pairing I wrote for once that has weirdly stuck with me#I also know a lot of people like vanshion and it's okay but I'm meh about it. but it's not bad#I've also seen aqua/larxene and that might not be bad#and I could see people shipping xion and olette after khiii and that could be cute#does anyone ship fuu and olette? I bet they have and that could be cute too#I also shipped venfuu a tiny tiny bit when deviantart was going crazy over it and making all the art for them. I even wrote one fic#vanities and riku maybe#and I maybe COULD'VE shipped ven and lea during the time of bbs. but obviously not now#also... if I'm being honest? sometimes problematic master of masters and Ava since she was the only one he was nice to#and when I say that I don't really ship it at all. gosh I don't want that ship to EVER happen and it never should#but I've still written it in a few fics... where I've treated it as the problematic thing it is (and only ever from the master's side and#not Ava's) to help show how the master HIMSELF is problematic. and I'm very careful with it and I swear I'm not endorsing it and wouldn't#though actually... now that I think about it her being the only one he was ever nice to is probably a moot point now#since at this point they're opposed to each other and are probably going to be at each other's throats in khiv#actually maybe the only reason he was ever nice to her was manipulation. hoping that if he was she wouldn't betray him and yet she still#did as she should have#also in the fics where I've written the master of masters having an infatuation for Ava I've never even had him touch her in#a platonic gesture. let alone anything else or worse. but still him having feelings for her at all. even if he doesn't act on them. is bad#maybe also sora and Ava if he thought she was Kairi or something. sora and strelitziaalso had some good accidental chemistry#I feel like I might have shipped axel/xion if not for the age difference#if Elsa wasn't too old for him. Riku and Elsa for crack since I get where people are coming from with it. maybe sora/Anna in the same light#maybe master of masters and Xigbar/braig. I also feel invi has a crush on the mom. but we're doing nothing with that#luxu/ava maybe. I saw some cool stuff with them before we found out he's braig#the 'my friends aren't my power' guy with his friend#maybe some veniri
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unfoundhoney · 3 years
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toe the line ; part three ↠
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↠ slimecicle x fem!reader ; angst , the fluff will get here eventually i promise
↠ masterlist
↠ part one ; part two ; part three ; part four
↠ @ochabby @kiritokunuwu @pyrotechnics84 @nottheotheruser @d0vesatdawn @ashturnedtomist @bloopi @enderhoe @plaguenecromancer @prickypearpropaganda @phantom-aurora @starswspacey
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It’s funny how true the saying “you never miss something until it’s gone” is. If Charlie had to describe how the last two weeks have been, it’d be like that. He didn’t think it was humanly possible to miss someone so much, to actually have every second of every day be taken up by the thought of you. He’d been trying to work but with a blatant lack of you, he hadn’t been able to focus and decided to take a walk to clear his head.
It wasn’t helping.
A man walks past with a big, floofy, white dog on a leash. You would stop to ask to pet it. You always loved dogs and Charlie has no doubt in his mind that if your apartment building allowed pets, there’d be at least one living with you and him.
There’s a bookstore on the corner of a street. You would poke your head in, look around for a while and buy some novel by an author you’d never heard of. It’d probably lay unopened for a couple months until you suddenly remembered it one day and binged it in under three days.
A street musician plays across the street in a park, improving on his saxophone over a jazzy backing track. You would insist on staying to listen, waiting until he finished this song, applauding, and giving him ten dollars or so. Charlie stuffs his hands a little deeper in his pockets and keeps walking.
What was supposed to be a head-clearing (and distracting) walk has turned into the exact opposite. Charlie knows he won’t be getting any more work done today.
It starts to rain as he walks but he doesn’t head back, instead walking farther and into a different park. As it rains harder, he finds a bench to sit on. The cold and wet he finds himself submerged in distracts him better than anything else has been able to.
Water drips inside his collar and soon he finds himself soaked through. Still, he just sits there, staring straight ahead of him and focusing on the uncomfortable feeling of being fully clothed and completely wet.
He doesn’t know how long he sat there. Minutes. An hour. Two hours. But suddenly the rain stops. He’s no longer being showered with water droplets, even as the rain continues pouring all around him.
“Charlie? You okay, man?”
Charlie looks up and funnily enough, there’s Ted. He’s holding an umbrella over Charlie, looking down at him in concern. He realizes how bad this must look, sat in the rain looking dead inside.
“What’re you doing?” Ted asks slowly.
“Just... chilling.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You good?”
“I’m doing great.” He gestures generally, tries to crack a joke. “Can’t you tell?”
Ted doesn’t smile. “Dude, seriously. Are you okay?”
Charlie swallows, smile fading. He wants so badly to say “yeah, I am” and be able to mean it. He’s the one who messed everything up; he doesn’t have a right to be feeling this bad with you gone when he was the one who chased you away. And yet here he is, sitting in the rain.
“No.”
“...let’s go back to your place.”
Ted walks Charlie back home, sharing his umbrella despite the fact that Charlie is already totally soaked. Ted doesn’t seem to mind too much when Charlie drips on him; he’s likely more worried about Charlie than his left side getting a little wet.
They get back to Charlie’s apartment and Charlie changes quickly into dry clothes before joining Ted in the living room. It’s painstakingly obvious when Ted unknowingly sits in your spot.
After several minutes of awkward silence and even more awkward attempts at small talk, Ted finally asks the question he’s been meaning to for two weeks.
“How’s um... How’s Y/N?” Ted tries tentatively.
“She’s okay. Sort of. I think.”
“You think?”
“She’s kind of been avoiding me. She’s been staying at Schlatt’s for the past eleven days.”
“She has?”
“I think she needed some space, but it’s been over a week now and I’m kind of deteriorating away in the silence of our apartment alone.”
“Have you tried talking to her about... it?”
“You mean her feelings for me that she’s had for years and I’ve never noticed and then accidentally outed in front of all our friends and neither of us are sure our relationship will recover because we don’t know how to act now that we’re both aware one of us wants more than platonic friendship?”
“...yes.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It sounds really bad when you phrase it like you just did but there’s no way around this,” Ted says. “I know how much you two care about each other. You two would be miserable without each other.”
“We- We’d be... fine.”
“That was the most unconvincing thing I have ever heard in my entire life.”
“I-“
“Not to mention the fact that you are literally living proof that you are not fine without Y/N.”
“Doctor Ted PhD is making a reappearance,” Charlie weakly tries to joke.
“Charlie.”
Ted did just find Charlie having a rather severe episode of “main character syndrome,” so there’s really no arguing with him. He is not doing fine without you. It’s only going to get worse the longer he goes without trying to reassemble the shattered pieces of your friendship.
Charlie’s will finally gives way. “I don’t know what to do, man. I fucked up so bad and now I’m terrified I’m never going to be able to get back to where we were. Everywhere I go all I can think about is her and she just- I have never been happier than I am when I’m with her and I just-... I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose her.”
Charlie buries his head in his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eyes. He’s finally letting himself be distressed over the very real possibility of losing his best friend instead of ignoring the situation entirely.
Meanwhile, Ted is connecting some very obvious dots.
“She’s all you can think about?”
“Yeah, like, I’ll just be going to the store or something and it’s like ‘oh, she’d smell those flowers,’ ‘she’d drag me to try that restaurant,’ ‘she’d go to see that movie with me.’”
“And you’re happiest with her.”
“Yeah, man. I’ve had other friends, other best friends even, but no one compares to her and how she just gets me. You’ve seen it; we have this synergy that I have never gotten with anyone else.”
“And you are very worried about the possibility of losing her.”
“...yes. Are you just repeating what I’ve said?”
“Just waiting for you to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
Ted doesn’t respond, holding the silence patiently. Charlie continues to look at him, confused. The apartment is quiet, not quite in the unbearable way it is when he’s alone but it still doesn’t feel right without you here.
For eleven days, you haven’t sung in the shower. You haven’t made breakfast just how he likes it. You haven’t distracted him from work to show him a TikTok, not that he ever minded. You haven’t fallen asleep on movie night and he’d willingly carry you to bed if you asked him sleepily, kind of wishing you’d ask him to stay with you one night.
You would grab his hand and ask him to stay. He’d do so without hesitation. Curled together under the covers, you would be close and warm and intimate in a new but welcome way. He’d hold you tight, your breath soft against his neck.
Wait.
Charlie looks up in horror. “No.”
Ted narrowly stops the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “Yes.”
“No. No no no, shit.”
“I am so happy I get to be here for this.”
“Shut the fuck up, Ted,” Charlie cuts him off.
He’s angry. Not at Ted but at himself. He rushes over to the door, shoving his feet back into his still-wet shoes.
“I’ve fucked up so bad. Oh my god, this is all my fault.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“God, shut up, you are not helping.”
“Sorry, just telling it like it is.”
Charlie glares at Ted. “Show yourself out.”
Charlie takes off out of the apartment without an umbrella again, completely prepared to get another set of clothes completely soaked. He prays to whatever higher power may be listening that you have the ungodly amount of forgiveness that will be needed to forgive his stupidity.
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fangirlovestuff · 3 years
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Never Too Late - Chris Evans x reader
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a/n- hey lovely people!! i hope you’re all doing well:) i’ve been working on this one for a while, and i’m super excited to finally share it! because it’s Chris’ birthday, i wanted to have some fun with this, so in the story, chris says 3 things that are quotes / paraphrases of some of his characters’ quotes (like 3 things his characters said in movies lol). see if you can find all 3 of them;) enjoy<3
Summary: Romance is an illusion. Unattainable. Absolutely unrealistic. No one can have a fairytale love story. But maybe, you don't need a fairytale. You just need each other. (In which you and Chris have each given up on romance, but then you meet, and… sparks fly.)
Word Count: 9.6k (hello longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!)
Warnings: some curse words, (responsible) alcohol consumption, slight angst?? honestly it’s just obliviousness, slow burn!!!
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This was a waste of time.
I'm sorry, the text read, something came up. Raincheck? ;)
Douche. He was the one that asked if you could do this today instead of tomorrow, so you moved your meeting. But apparently, that didn't matter, since he wasn't planning to show up anyway.
You blocked his number, leaving your place at the bar and heading towards the exit. You were in the middle of typing out a furious message to your friend who set you up on this blind date, when you collided with someone in your path quite harshly. You rubbed your arm where you bumped into the person and gazed upwards to meet his eyes.  
"Sorry," you both said in unison.
The man let out a chuckle. "Sorry," he repeated, his amused eyes gazing into yours.
"No, I'm the one who should apologize," you said, "I wasn't looking where I was going," you lifted up your phone, gesturing to the reason.
"I'm sure it was important," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "don't worry about it."
"It really wasn't. Again, sorry," you grimaced.
"It's fine," he reassured you, "I was actually on my way to get another drink so it's not like I spilled anything, no harm done," he smiled.
"Well, I'm really glad. Have a good rest of your night," you smiled back. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned to continue your walk towards the exit, opening your texts to write that message to your friend, but as you were turning around the man reached out and grabbed onto your wrist, not harshly but enough to make you turn around to face him once more.
He immediately let go of your hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just… you seemed kind of upset when I bumped into you, are you alright?"
You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "I'm fine," you looked up at him, "just got ditched by this blind date. Guy didn't show, so I was writing a furious message to my friend who set me up," you chuckled, "that's why I wasn't paying attention."
"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic grimace. "So why were you writing to your friend and not to the guy? I mean, he's the one who bailed."
"No offense, but I learned not to expect as much from the male species," you smirked, and he chuckled in return. "Got bailed on one too many times to have high expectations. Honestly, I was only willing to go on this date cause my friend said this was a great guy and, according to her, I was 'on the sure road to becoming a spinster'. So, I appeased her," you shrugged. Your confession left your lips with such ease, you were almost taken aback by how easy it was to talk to this complete stranger this openly. Maybe, it was easier because you were strangers.
"Ah, I know what that's like. I mean, not the spinster part, the part about appeasing your friends," he chuckled. "They're over there," he gestured to a table a little to the back, "to 'cheer me up'. Said I needed to leave my house more. Although I don't know if they're still sober enough to remember that's why they're here," he smiled affectionately as he looked at his table. Sure enough, the guys looked pretty drunk, but the man didn't seem to resent them for it, he was just amused.
"What did you need cheering up for?" you asked once his gaze went back to meet yours.
"Well, I got dumped. We were together for a few years. I even had a ring," he raised his eyebrows, "but she said it wasn't working out anymore. At least she didn't know about the ring yet," he smiled bitterly.
"Small victories," you nodded sympathetically.
"Yeah," he chuckled, "anyway, she just finished taking the last of her stuff from ou- my place. She was really lingering with it, we broke up like a month ago. Didn't have the heart to rush her."
"I'm sorry," you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. He seemed to appreciate it anyway. "Your sob story's way worse than mine," you joked, getting a small huff of laughter out of him.
"I guess," he said. "But that means I get where you're coming from on the whole no dating thing. It just seems pointless," he shrugged.
"I'm sure this is the part where anyone else would've told you that it'll be okay and you'll find 'your person', but since I'm shittier than that I'll be honest – romance is dead and we'll both probably die alone," you said flatly.
Your blunt tone made him smile, which in turn made you smile, and you nodded as your words sank into the silence between you. You started giggling, and soon he followed, and you were both laughing softly for a while.
"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning, "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's sad."
"Very sad," you agreed, a grin on your face as well. "to be fair, spinsterhood doesn't sound that bad. Except for the cats thing. I'll never be a crazy cat lady," you shook your head, "they hate me, every single one. I'd get dogs though," you mused, "have a little army of 'em."
"Sounds fun," he smiled.
"Right?" you smiled back, "I'm telling you, it's not as bad as people make it out to be."
Wrapped up in your conversation, you were both still standing next to the bar, and another man pushed past you to get to the bartender. The bubble around the two of you exploded, and you remembered that you were still in public, at the bar.
"You should go get that drink you were here for," you said, gesturing towards the bar.
"Alright," he chuckled. Just then, the man finished ordering, so he told the bartender what he'd like to have, then turned to you.
"Hey, romance might be dead, but chivalry isn't. Let me buy you a drink," he grinned.
"Be still my beating heart," you feigned emotion, before a smile crept back onto your face. "I'll have whatever you're having," you shrugged, and waited as he told the bartender to bring you two another drink.  
"So, if you're buying me a drink, I feel like it's only fair I should know your name," you smiled.
"That does seem fair," he sent a small smile your way. "I'm Chris," he put out his hand and you shook it, telling him your name in return.
"So, you come here often?" he smirked, prompting the both of you into another fit of laughter.
"For real though," you said once you got your drinks, "I'm really not looking for anything romantic right now. I hope that's okay."
"Of course," he reassured, "I'm not either."
"Okay good cause this is like, really tasty, so I wouldn't mind having a couple more," you held up the drink he got you with a grin, making him laugh.
You did have a couple more, with Chris. You ended up sitting at the bar, his friends not really noticing he was gone, and talking about anything and everything. You were almost reluctant to end the night, but you really should get home, which is what you told Chris before getting up and getting your wallet.
"Hey, no," he said and gestured for you to put it away, "I was serious, I'll pay."
"Really? I mean, this wasn't a date so I just thought-"
He shook his head adamantly and you put your hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Thank you," you told him as you put your wallet away.
"You're very welcome. Although, there is something I still want to ask you. Can I get your number?"
You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could he spoke up again.
"Nothing romantic, I swear," he chuckled, "but it was really fun hanging out tonight. We should do it again. Completely platonically." He smiled sincerely.
You narrowed your eyes in mock suspicion before laughing. "Alright. Sure, you can have my number," you said, and he grinned before giving you his phone. You put in your number and gave it back.
"See you around, Chris," you smiled before leaving the bar, the smile lingering on your face all the way back to your house.
And when your friends asked you how the date was, you told them he bailed and you went home, never mentioning meeting Chris. You knew how they'd see it, and it wasn't like that, so you just… kept it to yourself. For now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
On your way to Chris' house, you picked up the takeout from the place he told you about, before texting him you got it and you were almost there.
It's been a couple of weeks since you met him, and so far he was proving to be a great friend. You texted back and forth most days, but never found the time to meet up again, until today, that is.
You had texted him about your crappy day at work, and how happy you were this week was finally, finally over, so he invited you t his house, and suggested you watch a movie. And well, you accepted. A movie night with a friend was just what you needed to put this shitty week behind you.
"Hi," you greeted him once he opened the door.
"Hi!" he took the takeout bags from your hands and gestured for you to follow him inside, and into the kitchen. "So," he started, while taking out the food, "I realized forgot to tell you; I have a dog," he smiled apologetically, "I don't know if that's a problem, he's in my room upstairs, I won't-"
"Are you kidding?" you nearly squealed, "of course that's not a problem! I told you if I could I'd be a crazy dog lady," you giggled. "Can I meet him?"
"Great!" he chuckled at your enthusiasm, "sure, I'll go get him."
As he went upstairs, you stood there, looking around his kitchen. You weren't sure what to do, it seemed like he got all the food, and it wasn't your house, so… you just stood there.
Fortunately, you soon heard the patter of footsteps, and just as you were about to call out to Chris to ask him if there was anything you could do to help, you heard him yell out.
"Dodger!"
And just then, a big whirl of movement came towards you, and before you knew it a large dog was resting his paws on you, nearly knocking you back. You regained your footing before you crouched down to your knees with a beam.
"Hey," you cooed at the excited dog, who was wagging his tail and still trying to climb onto you, apparently. "Hey," you repeated yourself, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. "It's so nice to meet you," you kept cooing and stroking his fur. He propped himself up and licked your cheek, making you giggle. "Thank you, you're so cute," you scratched his neck affectionately.
"Sorry about him, he gets excited around new people," Chris came into the kitchen apologizing.
"No worries," you grinned as the large dog laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to you in a silent request for belly rubs which you willingly provided. "He's adorable," you looked up at Chris, who was grinning back at you.
"He really is," he agreed, going to finish putting the food in plates before lifting them.
"Can I help with anything?" you asked, still crouched down and petting Dodger.
"Nope, all set," he smiled, "let's go."
He led the way to his living room, where he set the plates down on the coffee table and picked up the remote. "So, what do you wanna watch?"
"Oh, I don't know," you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, "you can pick."
"Well, I would, but we're here because you've had a shitty week, so you should pick whatever you want."
"Ugh, don't remind me. See, Dodger would never do this to me," you turned your gaze to the dog, who has settled at your feet, and started petting him again. "Right? Of course you won't, you're the cutest dog," you cooed.
Chris burst out into a short laugh. "Are you going to steal my dog?"
"It's a very real possibility," you said dryly, shrugging. You turned your gaze to him, your hand still petting Dodger, and smirked.
"Okay, so are you gonna pick a movie now that we've settled that?" he asked, smiling.
"I don't know what to pick," you admitted, "I don't wanna put on anything you don't like, I guess," you mumbled.
"Awwwww, it's fine," he assured with an easy smile, "pick whatever."
You caved and put on a movie you really liked – The Princess Bride. As he realized what movie you were putting on, Chris chuckled.
"Really? That's what you're going with?"
"See? I told you I'd put on something you wouldn't like. Forget it, we can just-"
"No, no!" he cut you off, "I really like this movie," he grinned, "I just wouldn't expect that from someone who claims romance is dead, that's all," he chuckled.
"Well, movies have… dragons in them. Do you think dragons are real just cause they're in movies?" you reasoned.
"Okay, I see your point," he raised his hands in mock surrender.
A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you from that point, the only thing filling it was the sound of the movie playing and the occasional shuffling sound when either of you, or Dodger, shifted on the couch.
A bit later, Chris spoke up. "Hey, want a beer?"
"Uh, I probably shouldn't have any. Driving myself home and all," you shrugged.
"Yeah, that's smart," he chuckled. You were both lowering your voices, as if not to disrupt the movie which was still playing. "Mind if I have one?"
"Not at all," you answered truthfully, "It's your house."
He let out another short chuckle, nodding before getting up. When he heard Chris getting up, Dodger lifted his head from where he was laying, and swiftly followed him into the kitchen.
When they returned, Chris brought you a glass of water, and gave it to you before sitting down. Dodger jumped back up onto the sofa, curling up beside Chris, laying his head on his stretched-out legs.
"Awwww," you softly smiled, "that's adorable. He really loves you."
"Not nearly as much as I love him," Chris replied, smiling and fondly rubbing Dodger's head.
"See, that's good love. Love that lasts," you remarked. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned your head back to the movie.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Huh?" you turned your head back to Chris.
"What did you mean by that?" he repeated.
"Oh, nothing," you shook your head. "Just, you know. I know I seem very opposed to romance, but I'm not against love. I love my family," you shrugged, "because they made me the person I am today. They're a part of me. I just don't think that a love between two people who aren't family can last in the same way."
"Yeah. You're probably right. What about dogs though? They're certainly not blood related to us," he joked.
"Certainly," you laughed, "But dogs aren’t as fucked up as humans, so it's not really comparable. Dogs don’t stay up thinking about something embarrassing they did five years ago. Dogs probably don't even get embarrassed, really. They don't have as many doubts and… restrictions. Barriers. They don't have to make everything complicated."
"But humans do."
"Bingo," you chuckled dryly.
"We really do, don't we?" he sighed. "No one really knows what they're doing or who they are. How can you know someone else enough to truly love them when you don't even know yourself?"
"Exactly. You get it," you toasted your glass of water against his beer bottle. "it's too much effort for something that lasts so little."
"Not necessarily little," he suggested, "but never enough. You know, in movies, love is this big force of nature that draws two people towards each other so strongly… it's undeniable, unavoidable. Meant to be," he chuckled. "That feels so far away from anything I've ever experienced."
"Me too, if that's any comfort," you grimaced sympathetically. "Maybe we're just meant to be alone."
"Maybe. Anyway, that's grim," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry."
"No, it's fine," you smiled. "Every time I talk about it with my friends, I get told I just haven't found the right person yet, and to keep on hoping and everything will magically be sunshine and rainbows," you fluttered your eyelashes cynically. "It's fun to know there's at least one more realistic person out there," you sent him a small smile, which he returned.
You both turned back to watch the movie, which was heading towards the end at this point. The handsome prince saves the brave princess. He's not really a prince, but, you know. Same difference; it's a fairytale, a legend.
Something no one can ever truly have.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Chris and you had developed a habit of calling each other on Mondays, since they were the worst, and you both needed to vent. You were in the middle of one of those calls when something he said made you abruptly stop making your dinner.
"How come I didn't know it was your birthday?" you asked, surprised, at his admission that his birthday was yesterday.  
"It never came up," he said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The party's on Friday anyways, if you wanna come. You can bring some friends too, if you want. There's plenty of space."
"Yeah, okay," you smiled to yourself, "sure. Happy belated birthday, Chris."
"Thank you," he chuckled. "So you'll come?"
"Yeah, I'll be there, I guess," you sighed dramatically, prompting him to laugh.
"Great! See ya Friday," he said.
"See you."
After you hung up the call, you returned to your dinner, but not before texting your friends to invite them along. If you were getting on so nicely with Chris, you assumed the rest of his friends were nice people, so would in turn get along with your friends. Who were also nice people, obviously.
Or maybe, not so obviously.
There was an immediate flood of messages asking about who Chris is and how you met and if he's cute.
You ignored them in favor of finishing making your dinner, and only then sat down with your food and answered their questions, except for that last one.
He's a friend of mine I met not long ago, nice guy, you replied to the group chat.
And?? one of your friends texted.
And he invited me to this party he's throwing for his birthday, and told me I could bring friends, so now I'm inviting you guys. Hopefully, I won't regret that.
But is he cute???
I don't know, and I don't care. You know I'm not looking for anything right now!!
You're no fun. Fine, we'll come and see for ourselves ;P
You scoffed to yourself and continued to eat your dinner, unbothered. Maybe they should come, you mused, just to see that it's possible to make friends without dating them, like a sane adult.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed as Chris ushered you and your friends into his house. "I brought you a wine," you extended the bottle and he took it.
"Thank you!" he said loudly, to overpower the music that was playing. "Is it good?"
"How should I know? I didn't drink from it, it's your gift!" you joked. He laughed before giving you a one-armed hug and waving at your friends. "I'm gonna put this away," he pointed towards the kitchen, "But you should go to the living room, everyone's there."
You gave him a thumbs up and led your friends towards the living room.
"He even laughs at your bad jokes," your friend cooed in your ear, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.
"We're not a couple!" you reminded her.
"Maybe not yet, but I'm just saying you'd make a good one," she shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.
You ignored her, and continued walking. On your way to the living room, you did see a whole bunch of other people, but still, the party wasn't huge, especially compared to Chris' large house. There were no more than probably about 80 people there, not including yourself and your friends.
Pouring yourself a drink, you sat down next to your friends, who were already making small talk with another group, and joined the conversation.
Some time went by before the conversation turned to romance, and everyone started sharing funny stories about their significant others.
"What about you?" asked a woman from the other group. She seemed friendly, an easygoing smile on her face. "Everyone has a story to tell."
Before you could answer, one of your friends chimed in. "Oh, she doesn't do romance," she teased.
"Sounds mysterious," the woman laughed.
"Yep," you smiled, amused, "that's me. Dark, brooding, and mysterious."
As you were all laughing, Chris came down to sit next to you. "Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile, a model host.
"Yeah," one of your friends answered, "we were just talking about how this one never dates anymore," she pointed at you, and you caught Chris' look, amused. "What do you think about that?" your friends asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.
"I think she should do whatever she wants to," he answered with a smile.
"Oh, don’t be diplomatic," she said, "don't you think she should find someone?" she pressed.
"I think she should do whatever she feels like," he persisted.
"Whatever," your friend rolled her eyes with a smile. "Every pot has a lid. Sooner or later, you'll find yours," she said, your words pointed at you now.
You were quiet for a brief moment before speaking up. "Oh, you're done talking about me like I'm not here. Sorry, you were saying?"
The entire group burst into laughter, and you caught Chris' gaze again.
Sorry, you mouthed, shrugging.
It's fine, he mouthed back with a small smile.
The urge to kill your friend subsided when you saw Chris didn't take her pestering too seriously.
For the rest of the night, you proceeded to have a good time, making conversation with a few other people and only running into Chris one more time.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, toasting his cup to yours.
"Yeah. You throw a great party," you smiled.
"I'm glad you think that," he returned your smile.
After that you returned to your friends, and a little while later you all decided to head home. You searched for Chris, thanked him for hosting the party and wished him a happy birthday, and went home.
"You're telling me there's nothing there?" your friend asked you on the ride home.
"There's nothing there," you sighed. "I don't know why you all want there to be."
"We just know what it's like being in love. And we want that for you. It's fun," she smiled.
"Parkour also sounds fun, that doesn't mean I can or am going to do it," you retorted. "You know what I think about being in love. Different people have different paths and abilities. I can be happy without a sweeping romance."
"I know, you're a strong independent woman and you don’t need no man," she rolled her eyes. "Just… don't close yourself off to the opportunity. That's all I'm saying."
"Okay," you shrugged.
Shortly after, she dropped you off, and you went to sleep, thinking nothing of the whole ordeal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She came by today.
When you got the text from Chris on Wednesday, you were puzzled for a few moments before you realized. His former fiancée. I mean, almost fiancée.
Shit
Is everything okay?
It only took him a couple of seconds to reply.
Yeah, I guess.
On an obviously unrelated note, wanna come drink?
You chuckled before texting him your ETA, quickly changing from the already rumpled clothes you had worn all day, and driving to his place.
You texted him when you were outside, and when you walked up to his door it was already opened, and he was waiting for you, a bottle of beer in hand.
"Aw, you drove yourself here?" he asked, before ushering you in, "I told you we should drink."
"Yeah," you chuckled, "but it's not like there's anyone I can ask to drive me on a random Wednesday. It's fine, you drink."
"But I don't wanna drink alone," he whined. "Can't you just spend the night then? I have a guest bedroom."
You opened your mouth to refuse, but then assessed it again. You were in pretty comfortable clothes, you were starting work a little later than usual tomorrow, and well… he needed a friend, and he asked you.
"Okay, fine," you chuckled, "gimmie one of those," you gestured at his beer.
He made a little celebratory motion with his hand before going and getting you another beer.
"So," you started as you took a swig of your beer, "how was your day?"
He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Great. Yeah, just… just great," he took a large gulp of his beer. You waited, giving him the space he needed to speak again. "She wanted to get back together, actually," he scoffed. You frowned, but still refrained from speaking.
"You know, I… I still have the ring," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I still have the ring because I wanted her to come back. But when she finally did I… I couldn't say yes to her. Because it's forever or nothing. And I don't think I'm meant to have a forever. Certainly not with someone who broke up with me anyways," he took another sip of his beer.
"If it's any comfort, I don't think there's such a thing as forever," you shrugged, and he looked at you quizzically. "I told you," you said, "all romance is momentary."
"Maybe that's true," he sighed again. "At any rate, I am now stuck with this ring, which is just… fantastic. Really awesome."
"Can't you bring it back to the shop?"
"Tried to. They won't take it back, say it's been too long for their return policy. That money's lost," he took another sip of beer.
"Well, you know, if it's lost anyways…" you smiled, "I think I have an idea of what to do with it. but first," you raised your beer in a toast, "we do need to be a little drunker for this."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few too many drinks later, you and Chris were stumbling in a park near his home.
"How do you know where we are?" he asked, before nearly tripping on his face, making you giggle as he managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.
"I've been here before," you explained, a little less drunk than he was but still positively buzzed. "It's really pretty."
"It is," he agreed, taking in the trees around you as you kept going. "It's also very isolated. Are you going to kill me?" he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"No," your loud laugh rang through the park, breaking the silence of the night. "I'm not gonna kill you. Promise. Now c'mon, we're nearly there!" you beckoned him to follow you as you ran forward.
The rest of the way went by quickly, the both of you striding hurriedly, or as hurriedly as your inebriated minds would allow, engulfed in the comforting silence of the night. Finally, you got to a clearing with a large lake.
The crescent moon reflected in the water, and the lake was shimmering slightly as the wind disturbed it. The only sounds were those of your slightly labored breath, the soft trickling of the water, and the occasional flap of a bird's wings. The silence surrounded you, but it wasn't suffocating, it was as clear as the water in front of you.
It was finally broken when Chris spoke up again.
"You got me drunk so you could drown me in a lake?"
You burst into another fit of laughter. "First of all," you said in between giggles, "if anyone got anyone drunk it's you convincing me to drun- drink."
It was his turn to laugh at your mix-up. "Shut up," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now c'mon. You have the ring, right?"
"Yep," he said, fishing it out of his pocket. "But why did you want me to bring it?"
"Well, the fact I'm not gonna drown you in the lake doesn't mean we're not drowning anything."
"My ex-fiancée?" his mouth dropped open into an o shape.
"No!" you facepalmed. "The ring. You're gonna throw the ring in the river!"
"I am?"
"God, I'm starting to think I got you too drunk," you rolled your eyes. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna think about your relationship. You're gonna reminisce about everything, good and bad, and you're gonna put it in this ring. In your head, of course," you added before he could chime in.
"So I can let go," he nodded in understanding.
"Exactly," you smiled. "We don't need romance. Fuck romance. Fuck forever. You're better than that!"
"Amen!" he said, toasting an invisible glass in the air, making you laugh once more. It was probably the alcohol, but you hadn't laughed like this in a while. It was fun to laugh loudly, freeing. You wondered why you didn't do it more often.
"Alright!" you clapped your hands once, shaking from your thoughts. "Let's get this show on the road!"
You both stepped closer to the lake, and then Chris held out his hand in front of him, his palm open with the ring on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then his gaze snapped up to meet yours and he nodded shortly. You didn't speak, you just reached out and closed his fingers around the ring, before stepping aside and gesturing for him to go ahead. He stared at his fist for another moment before taking a swing and throwing the ring as far as he could. You held your breath until you heard the sound of the ring hitting the water, which made you release a breath full of awe.
"You did it," you said softly.
"I did it," he slowly repeated. "I did it!" he yelled out and you laughed in surprise. "I did it!" he yelled again, and in a few short strides he was next to you, picking you up and spinning you around in celebration.
"Put me down!" you shouted at him between fits of laughter, "Lunatic!"
He put you down, grinning widely. "I can't believe I just threw that ring into the lake. That was so stupid."
"It kinda was," you laughed, breathless.
"It was your idea!"
"I know! It's still stupid," you kept laughing, nearly doubling over. "Felt good though, didn’t it?"
"It really did," he let out a bewildered laugh. "Fuck. It really did," he said, and started laughing, which made you start laughing again, and before you knew it you were both laying on the grass, laughing until your cheeks hurt.
"My cheeks hurt," you pouted.
"Awww, I'm sorry," he drawled, reaching out to pinch your cheek, making you swat his hand away, glaring at him. He just giggled again, laying on his back and looking up to the sky.
You laid back as well, staring up.
"I wish I knew something about the stars," he said out of the blue.
"What do you wanna know?"
"Oh, just anything. I don't know jack shit about 'em."
"Well, I'm pretty sure that's Orion's Belt," you said, pointing up to a group of three stars. "So now you know that about the stars."
He said your name, making you turn your head to look at him. "You're a good friend," he smiled.
"You're a good friend too," you smiled back at him.
"No, I'm not. All I ever do is moan about my stupid ex."
"I'm sure she wasn't stupid," you reasoned.
"She was! She was stupid with two o's," he mumbled in disdain. You giggled at his words. "I'm not hung up on her," he continued. "I'm just… disillusioned. I thought she was the one. And now that she's gone… I don't know if there's gonna be a one. Which is sad. So I've been sad," he said matter-of-factly.
"I was sad too when I started thinking that," you whispered, sobering up a little. "But we don’t need 'a one', Chris. Romance is dead, but life goes on. We're on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."
"I spent so much of my life looking forward to spending the rest of my life with someone. And now that I realize that might not be the case… I guess I just realized that this is it. The rest of my life. I needed to throw that ring to make peace with that."
"Glad I could help," you gave him a half-smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze.
"Yeah," he returned a squeeze of his own, "me too."
"C'mon," you said, leaving his hand and getting up, before helping him to his feet as well. "We should get going."
You stumbled your way home, leaning on each other for some parts of the way. Sleepy and still a little buzzed, you finally got to his house, and he led you to the guest bedroom.
"Goodnight," he said, smiling.
"Goodnight," you whispered back, before he turned and walked up the stairs. You listened to him climb, and heard the sound of another set of footsteps, soft cooing coming from upstairs, and then heard the sound of a door closing.
Dodger, you thought with a smile, before closing your own door and plopping down on the bed.
In the last minutes of your wakefulness, you thought about how lucky dogs were.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So, are you dating him?"
"No!" you said indignantly, "have you listened to a single word I said?"
"Oh, so you're just not putting a label on it? you're a little too old for those games if you ask me, but suit yourself," your friend shrugged.
"Come on! He's just a friend," you huffed.
"If that's what you wanna tell yourself," she smirked, but then her look became more sincere. "Look, I know you. I know that every time we talk about him, you're happy. Why can't you admit that you like him?"
"I do like him, as a person! I like all of my friends!"
"You're impossible," she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile.
"You're impossible," you retorted weakly before smiling at her.
"You know we all just want you to be happy, right? That's all we want."
"I know," you said softly, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I am happy, on my own."
"If that's the case, then I'm happy for you," she sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a third wheel, especially with Sarah's wedding coming up. You're the last of us who hasn't tied the knot yet."
"I'll be fine at Sarah's wedding," you rolled your eyes.
"I know, I know," she raised her hands in surrender, "But I'm just saying, I know you're anti-romance, but I also know you're not anti-company. Maybe you should bring Chris. As your friend, if you insist" she added when she saw you open your mouth to object. "Just, you know, everyone's coming with someone, and I don't want you to sit alone."
"I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but seriously, I think you're underestimating my social skills. You do realize I can talk to people I don't know, right?"
"I know," she huffed. "Just… consider it, okay? For me?"
"I'll think about it, I guess," you shrugged.
You had no intention of following through on that. Except, well, it did come up when you were talking to Chris.
"What are you doing Friday?" he asked, his voice mechanical through the phone. "I thought we could finally see that movie you're always talking about."
"Nope, can't do Friday," you said, the phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you were folding your laundry.
"Aw, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to you finally shutting up about it," he teased, making you chuckle. "What're you doing Friday then?"
"First of all, if you'd listen to me and see it, you wouldn't wanna shut up about it either, because it's awesome. Second, I'm going to a friend's wedding. I'm gonna sit aside, drink some wine, and make fun of all the drunk couples."
"Sounds like a real fun night," he teased.
"Yeah," you said sarcastically. "I am really happy for her though. I know she wanted it for a long time," you said, sincere now.
"Hey, um, if you want, maybe I could come laugh at drunk couples with you? So you'll have some company," he offered.
"Oh, you don't have to," you dismissed it, "I know it sounds like a bummer, but really, I'll be fine."
"No, really. No one should have to sit alone at weddings," he said.
"Another friend of mine told me that as well."
"Well then, this friend of yours is smart. Believe me, as a veteran of many sit-alone weddings myself, I can confirm it's indeed a huge bummer."
"Fine," you chuckled, "I guess if you want to come so badly you may," you said, making him laugh.
"Great, text me the details?"
"Yep," you smiled. "Talk to you later?"
"Sure, bye!"
You hung up the phone to get up and start putting all your clothes into the closet. After you were done with that, you sent Sarah a text to let her know you will be bringing a plus one at the end, asking her if that'd be okay.
Is it Chris????
Yeah
Then it's fine!! :)))
You chuckled to yourself and kept putting away your clothes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      
The night of the wedding, as a close friend of the bride's, you arrived at the venue a couple of hours beforehand, along with all of your friends. Chris came some time after guests started to arrive, and it didn't take you long to spot him in the crowds, looking a bit lost. You excused yourself quickly from the conversation you were in with some of the groom's friends and went to greet him.
"Hey!" you waved as you walked towards him, "Chris!"
Grinning when he saw you, he also began moving towards you, until you finally met in the middle.
"I'm glad you could make it," you smiled.
"I am too," he said, "seems like a nice wedding."
"Yeah. C'mon, you're just in time. They're gonna start the ceremony soon," you explained as you grabbed his arm and started leading him towards your seats.
"Oh-kay," he chuckled as you dragged him forward with surprising determination.
As you took your seats, you waved at your friends, and they freaked out over Chris being there, but you paid no mind to them, as Chris was leaning towards you, whispering, "You know, for someone who doesn't seem to enjoy romance, you sure do seem excited about this wedding."
"Well, I'm happy for Sarah. I've learned that me and my friends have a different outlook on that, and that's fine, it's useless to argue about it or whatever. I'm just happy she's gonna have what she wanted, even if I don't really believe in it."
"So how does that work? If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?"
"Chris, if one of my friends told me they found a way to adopt a unicorn, I'd be happy for them, no questions asked. Everyone should do what they feel like," you shrugged. "Now shhhh, they should be starting every minute now."
The ceremony was a beautiful one, and Sarah looked gorgeous in her white dress. As she walked down the aisle with a beaming smile, Chris' words echoed in your mind.
If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?
Despite your quick answer, you didn’t really know. The short answer was the one you told Chris, but the long one…
For the longest time, you believed romance just wasn't durable. Wasn't real. But maybe you just didn't believe that you can have that kind of romance? You just never really had someone to challenge your perception like that, because no one ever took it seriously, they just told you you'd find your person.
But that wasn't something you wanted to think about now, so you filled it away for later.
"It was a beautiful ceremony."
You and Chris were a little far out from the dancing crowd, somewhere a little quieter, but you could still see the dance floor from the bench you had found.
"Yeah, it was," you agreed with him.
"Not beautiful enough to make you cry, I guess?" he teased.
"Ha ha. I don't cry at weddings."
"I could've guessed that," he chuckled. "So what do you usually do at weddings? I mean, all your friends are married, so I'm assuming you've been to quite a few."
"What I'm doing right now. Sitting aside and drinking," you raised your glass in mock salute before taking a generous sip.
"Solid plan," he nodded slightly. "So you've never like, danced at weddings or anything?"
"No," you frowned, shaking your head slightly, "Why would I? I'm not a dancer, really.
"Well, how 'bout we go and change that?"
"Excuse me now?"
"I'm just saying, if you're really happy for your friend, maybe you should show her that. Enjoy yourself."
"I am enjoying myself," you deadpanned.
"Do what people are meant to do at weddings," he rolled his eyes.
"I thought you were here to silently judge everyone with me. Don't make me regret inviting you," you jokingly waved your finger at him as if you were telling him off.
"That's still the plan. We could just probably still do that on the dance floor," he shrugged. "Your call."
There was a short-lived silence before you sighed. "Fine. One dance," you warned.
Getting up, he offered his arm to you, which you took, and you made your way o the dance floor. You started dancing to the end of the upbeat song that was playing, but just then it changed into something a little slower, and people were pairing up.
"This is the money time," Chris winked, and offered you his hand. You took it, almost instinctively, and you started dancing to the song, his other hand on your waist while yours was on his shoulder.
"What do you mean money time?" you whispered.
"Okay. We're gonna turn around, and you're gonna look at the couple that's gonna be behind me," he said, turning the both of you around casually as you danced.
"Oh my god," you suppressed your laughter. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Are they even a couple or is he her da- oh nope, he just kissed her on the lips. God," you grimaced as Chris laughed at your expression. "I at least hope he's rich for her sake."
You both chuckled, and it was only a couple of moments later that you gasped with a smile. "Don't be obvious cause they're pretty close, but look at the couple to my right."
"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Remind me not to go to any secluded corner of this wedding. These two are probably this close to running off to do things I definitely wouldn't wanna see."
"Right?" you said, amused, "They're practically eye fucking. Have some decency!"
You both laughed again, and then Chris nodded his head subtly in another direction. "Look at those two."
They were a couple that wasn't dancing, they were sitting at a table close to the dancefloor, their foreheads touching, seemingly murmuring to each other.
"Betcha they're the kind of couple who does the whole 'no you hang up!' thing," Chris continued with an amused grin.
"Oh they so are!" you burst into laughter. "They probably share a single spaghetti from both ends."
"Lady and the Tramp style," you both said at the same time, prompting you to tear your eyes from the couple and look at each other, giggling.
You continued dancing through the next song, and the next one, and the one after that. For pretty much the rest of the night, you two danced together, continuing to invent silly stories about the people you saw, laughing at each other's cheesy anecdotes.
When it was getting late and the party was winding down, Chris offered you a ride home, since he hasn't drunk, and you gratefully accepted. You came here with your friends, and they were all probably staying longer, but you were getting a little sleepy, so you decided to call it a night.
"Let's just go say goodbye to Sarah," you said and he nodded, letting you lead the way.
"Hey, I'm getting pretty tired, so we're gonna leave. Congratulations," you smiled once you had gotten to the table the happy couple was sitting at. As Chris was shaking the husband's hand, you had bent down to wrap your arms around Sarah in a tight hug.
"So you admit you're a 'we' now? You and Chris?" she teased, whispering in your ear.
"We're not," you rolled your eyes.
"Whatever you say," she smiled knowingly. "Thank you for coming," she said louder once you let go of her.
"It was a pleasure, congratulations," Chris smiled at the both of them, and you all gave your goodbyes.
On the way back, you were already lulling into sleep in the passenger's seat, and Chris smiled to himself.
"Chris," you mumbled from your half-asleep state.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For coming with me today. You're right. Dancing with you is better than sitting alone."
"Wow, what a compliment," he drawled sarcastically.
"Yeah, don't let it get to your head buddy," you chuckled, before shifting around in your seat so your head was leaning on the window. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"
"Sure," he smiled, "Sweet dreams."
"Thanks," you yawned.
When you got to your house, Chris gently nudged your shoulder a few times to wake you up. You woke up, confused for a second, but quickly regained your composure and thanked him for the ride.
You went into the house, barely changing out of your dress before plopping down on the bed.
It was kind of weird, honestly. Usually, no matter how tired you were, you wouldn't manage to fall asleep in a car, or a plane. Even a bed that wasn't yours was sometimes harder to sleep in.
But you were in your own bed now, so you didn't have a lot of time to mull that over before you sunk into a deep sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Hey," Chris greeted over the phone one Monday.
"Hi! How's it going?" you smiled.
"Fine. I mean, actually, do you wanna come over?"
"Right now?" you frowned.
"I mean, why not? Have the Monday chat in person."
"Um, sure. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit," you said. Hanging up, you didn't think too much of his invitation. He sounded fine, and he said he was. He was probably just being nice.
Soon enough you were knocking at his front door. It opened to reveal a very excited Dodger pouncing on you, and you giggled as you crouched down to pet him. "Yeah, hi Dodger! How's the cutest boy doing?"
"Ouch," Chris joked from the doorstep.
"Hello to you too, I guess," you said dryly, but with a grin on your face.
You all went inside, and Dodger went straight to his bed, curling up. "Your knock woke him up," Chris explained, smiling at the sight.
"Oh, sorry," you gave him a small smile.
"It's fine. As you can see, he has no problem going right back to sleep," he chuckled.
"Yeah," you giggled. "Is everything okay? I mean, is there a reason you wanted me to come except to enjoy my magnificent presence?" you teased.
"Well, that was mostly it," he laughed, "but actually, I did want to talk to you about something. Wanna go outside?"
"Um, sure," you said, frowning slightly before forcing yourself to smile again.
You stepped outside into his garden, sitting in the big lawn chairs.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.
"That's Orion's Belt, right?" he evaded, pointing at a group of stars in the night sky.
"I'm pretty sure it is," you shrugged.
For a moment, you were both quiet.
"I've changed my mind," Chris started. "This isn't the rest of my life. It's just my life."
"Okay," you said, not getting where he was going with this.
"You know, all these cheesy couples we made fun of at Sarah's wedding? I think they have it right."
"How come?"
"They realized that romance isn't about forever. It's about right here, right now. It’s in the little things. I've been so opposed to romance lately, and I was constantly thinking about how I wouldn't have a forever, so much so that I forgot what's going on now."
"And what's that?" you asked softly.
"Something much simpler than that. Happiness."
You stared at each other in silence, a slight frown still on your face.
"You make me happy," Chris admitted in a soft voice. "You make me really happy. And I don't want to lose your friendship, but I have to ask you this, because otherwise I don't think I'd forgive myself. Do you really not believe in romance? At all?"
"I don't know," you whispered. Clearing your throat, you continued a bit louder. "I don't believe in everyone's version of it. The happily ever after, forever. I don't need anyone to complete me either."
"There's always a middle road. Maybe not everyone has someone, and we don’t need romance, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to want it. We shouldn't have to sit alone at weddings," he said sincerely. After a breath, he continued. "I'm not asking you for forever. I don't want to. But I want to ask you for now. And I don't think I'd complete you, just like you don't complete me. But you do make my life a whole lot better."
"Chris, you know I'm not looking for anything, I told you that when we met," you said weakly.
"I know. I also wasn't looking for anything. And yet I found… something. And I'd be a coward not to pursue it. We can make our own kind of romance; not a happily ever after, but a happy here and now. No big cheesy gestures, or unreasonable promises, just… being together. And that means I can't promise you it'll work, that it'll be perfect. Hell, it'll probably be messy, and hard, and mundane, at times, but that's how life is. But I can promise I'll try. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life."
You thought back to every romantic relationship you've had. Every date you've been on. A lot of them were disappointing, but some of them were good.
None of them made you as happy as being with Chris did. Not one of your actual dates managed to top just hanging out with Chris. You didn't know why, but you felt safe with him, like you can be entirely yourself. You felt happy.
You didn't want to risk that. You didn't want to lose that. But what if taking this one risk would make it all that much better? You thought back to all of your friends, how happy they were with their significant other, how in love. What if putting your heart out on the line, for the first time in a long while, would make you happier than you had ever imagined?
Of course, it could also make you devastated. It could crush you. But that's the risk, isn't it?
There isn't any other person you'd rather take that leap with, you realized. In the few months you knew Chris, he already managed to become one of your favorite people in the entire world. You trusted him, cared about him, more than you'd let yourself realize up until now. And like he said, not exploring that would make you a coward. And you're not.
You took a deep breath. Chris gave you the time you needed, simply looking at you softly.
"I haven't dated anyone in a while. I might be rusty," you chuckled finally.
"I'm willing to take those odds," he smiled. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes," you nodded, a grin slowly making its way onto your face. "If there's anyone I would do this with, it's you," you admitted softly.
He grinned, getting up from his chair and extending his hand out to you, and you accepted. Gently, he pulled you up on your feet, using his momentum to bring you to stand closer to him and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Slowly, you two inched closer, until, finally, his lips were on yours.
There weren't fireworks, or butterflies. There was just this moment, right here, right now. No doubts, or hesitations, it was peaceful. It felt right.
This moment was all you could ever ask for. All you'd ever need.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You look so beautiful in the mornings," Chris murmured, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.
"You too. Happy birthday," You whispered back, weaving your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck. He hummed in response, and you giggled, feeling it tickling your neck.
You laid there for a while more, just basking in each other's company. But when you looked at the clock, you started nudging Chris away from you. "We should get up," you said softly, "We have a party to prepare for."
"The party's not until the evening," he whined, "Stay in bed," he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.
You ended up leaving the bed at noon, eating a big lunch before tidying up for the party. A few minutes later, you slipped away, to set up your surprise.
"Hey Chris?" you called from the other room, "Can you just come over here for a second?"
"Coming!"
He entered to find you and Dodger in matching little party hats, and you were holding one out for him too.
"Wow!" he burst into laughter, putting the party hat on his head. "What's all this for?"
"I thought we should celebrate a little before the guests arrive," you shrugged. "And, you know, Dodger looks so cute in that little hat."
"He does," Chris cooed. "How did you manage to put it on him? He would never let me put anything."
"Well, he just likes me more," you smirked. Chris scoffed amusedly. "Okay fine," you rolled your eyes, "I may have bribed him with a treat."
Dodger's ears perked up at the word and you both laughed at the suddenly interested dog.
"I shouldn't have said that," you giggled.
"Probably," he agreed. "Thank you," you put his arm on the small of your back, nudging you closer to his side.
"You're welcome. Happy birthday," you smiled, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss, but before it could get any further Dodger was barking and putting his front paws on the both of you.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get jealous. We love you too," you and Chris laughed, petting his head affectionately.
Honestly that day was a perfectly normal day for you and Chris. Being in love for the two of you didn't mean big highs and lows. You had your moments, but most of the time, it was just this peaceful bliss.
Later that night, the party was already in full swing. You and Chris separated from each other at some point, but you were making the rounds, so you knew sooner or later you'd meet up again.
In the small crowd, it was easy to spot your friends, sitting with the same group they did last year. You smiled to yourself, going up and greeting everyone warmly.
"How's everyone doing?" you asked, sitting down for a moment.
There was a chorus of "fine"s and "good"s before the conversation continued. You joined in, talking to your friends and catching up with the other group.
"Hey," Chris' voice was suddenly next to you. He came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, talking softly next to your ear. "I'm gonna get myself another beer. You want anything as well?"
"Um, yeah. Can you bring me one too?"
"Sure," he smiled.
You tilted your head so you could reach and kiss his cheek, "Thanks."
As he walked away, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group, only to find them all looking at you with knowing grins.
"I thought you didn't do romance," said the woman you had spoken to last year, a teasing smile on her face.
"I didn't. I guess I changed my mind," you smiled softly, watching Chris’ back as he dissappeared into the kitchen.
Maybe romance wasn’t so bad after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
did you catch the three references? tell me:)) i hope you like it, and if you stuck through this entire story, thank you so so much for reading!! as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts, and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself<3 happy chris day!!
special shoutout for @animnerd who gave me some motivation when i needed it<3 
Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian
Chris & co. taglist: @patzammit
if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3
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drabbles-mc · 3 years
Text
Exceptions (1/2)
Juice Ortiz x F!Reader
Part 2
Warnings: language, mentions of smoking/alcohol
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Been mulling over this little two-part fic for a while. Love me some Juice content haha. This part is all fluff, part 2 is a nice balance of angst and fluff. Hope you enjoy! xo
Join my group-chat here: (X) ​
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You’d worked at the bar for a few months, and everyone was kind to you. But you hadn’t really become overly close with anyone. You knew how easily friendship could be construed into something else and you really were here because it was a good paying gig. You were a friend of a friend to the club so when they needed a bartender and you met the qualifications, they didn’t give it much of a second thought to throw you back there. You didn’t start trouble, didn’t ask too many questions, and made good strong drinks. They couldn’t have asked for anything more.
At the heart of it, it was nothing more than a customer service gig. Sure, most everyone you served was part of the MC or a friend of the club, but you didn’t treat them any differently because of it. The same as you had done at your previous gigs, you were nice but you didn’t tolerate any disrespect. There were a lot of egos put in check the first few weeks that you were working there and you were surprised that you hadn’t been pulled aside and spoken to about it.
Once you all sort of fell into a flow, the guys quickly realized that you were content to chit-chat but you were keeping them at arm’s length for your sake and theirs. There was something to be said about being ignorant to the goings on of SAMCRO. It wasn’t lying under oath if you really didn’t have a solid clue as to what any of them were doing. They respected that, even if they didn’t always like the way you would wave them off if they were talking about something within earshot of you.
Most of the guys had given up on trying to get cozy with you once you shot them down with a considerable amount of force. Opie checked in on you on a somewhat consistent basis—he felt a little obligated to keep an eye on you since Lyla was the one who had sent you in the direction of the club in the first place. He was always kind to you but he knew and respected that you had pretty firm boundaries with all of them, including himself. As long as you let him know that you were content, safe, and that no one was bothering you at the time, he would leave you be and you really loved that about him.
The only other person who would try to get and keep your attention was Juice. And that was how you found yourself trying and failing to bite back the laughter that you could feel building up inside your chest. You were leaning onto the bar, directly across from Juice who was plopped on a stool in front of you. He was talking about the antics that went down on the shop earlier in the day, and the way that he spoke and gestured, along with the light in his eyes, made it impossible not to laugh and get roped into every word that he said.
There was a boyish charm and innocence to him that you had to admire. He had tried to flirt with you at first and you shot him down instantly, not looking to start playing any games with anyone. He backed off for a little while, giving you your space. But after a couple weeks he wound up right back at the bar, coaxing conversations out of you whenever there was a lull in drink orders. He kept it platonic, carefully choosing his words so you couldn’t shoo him away for being flirtatious or inappropriate. For that reason alone, you rewarded him with some of your time. Plus, there were worse people to look at on the other side of the bar throughout the night.
The later it started to get, the more you tried to encourage everyone to either go home or back to their dorms. Or really just anywhere besides the bar. You hated trying to clean up around people passed out drunk everywhere. It only ever got out of control on the nights of big parties, but you didn’t see any harm in making sure that it stayed that way.
The main expanse of the bar was almost completely empty. There were a few girls getting ready to leave, and Juice was still sitting across the bar as you wiped it down and started stacking glasses in the dishwasher.
You chuckled and shook your head, “Don’t you have somewhere you gotta be, Juice?”
He shook his head, “No, not really.”
You looked down at your watch, “It’s late. Better get to bed if you’re going to wake up and actually make it to work tomorrow.”
“That sick of me, Y/N?”
You had to let out a quiet laugh when you saw his puppy-dog eyes, “You know that’s not true. I would definitely tell you if I was sick of you. Pretty sure I have before,” you laughed.
It got a chuckle out of him, “That’s true. Alright. I’m going to bed then. See you tomorrow?”
You nodded, “See you tomorrow.”
He wandered back towards his dorm and you let out a long sigh once he was out of sight. You looked around at the now-empty clubhouse and a wave of relief washed over you. You set about straightening up and throwing things away. This was easily the longest part of your shift—serving drinks was easy.
Once everything was cleared away, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer from behind the bar and hoisted yourself up so that you were sitting on top of it, legs swinging idly between the barstools. Never in a million years did you think that you would’ve ended up in this position. Then again, not much of your life was predictable or even felt like it was in your control.
You nursed your beer and soaked up the silence of the clubhouse for a while, finally deciding that it was time for you to leave and go home too. You locked the door behind you as you left, not that it really mattered all that much. You walked out to your car and drove home in silence, just glad to be free of the noise and chaos.
By the time the next afternoon rolled around, you were ready to do it all over again. You shimmied into your jeans and tank top, opting for a pair of comfortable boots. You saw how some of the girls could manage the whole night in heels and you admired their dedication, but that just wasn’t something you were capable of or that committed to. You needed to be able to move a lot, and move quickly. And also kick the shit out of someone if it came down to it.
You were setting up the bar when you heard the door open. You looked over, a smile passing over your lips for a moment when you saw it was Juice.
“This is early even for you, Juan Carlos,” you laughed.
He laughed as he set a coffee down on the surface of the bar, “Just wanted to stop and give you this.”
You raised your eyebrows, “Oh really?”
He held his hands up in surrender, his own coffee cup dangling lightly from his hand, “Just a friendly gesture. I know you were here late last night.”
You nodded slowly as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. You smiled over at him, “I’ll allow it only because this is perfect.”
He chuckled, “Good,” he waved and headed towards the door, “See you later, Y/N.”
You watched as he walked out of the clubhouse. You lightly drummed your fingers on the countertop as your mind raced. You spun the cup and laughed when you saw that he had written his phone number on it.
“In case you’re ever in need of a friendly conversation. Or bail.”
You chuckled and against your better judgment, added his number to your contacts. You didn’t know when you were actually going to reach out to him, but he was a good person to be able to reach, especially if you really did land yourself in some kind of trouble. A warm feeling spread through your chest and you tried to ignore it as you went back to what you were originally doing when he walked in.
You were lucky enough to not have to work the entire length of your usual shift. You weren’t supposed to be the only bartender even though it usually ended up feeling that way. They had the prospect filling in for the second half of the night and you liked him, but not enough to tell him that he didn’t have to work the bar. Giving him a loving pat on the back, you grabbed yourself a beer and headed out of the clubhouse.
It never ceased to amaze you how chilly it got at night despite the fact that the afternoons would be sweltering sometimes. Every night you told yourself to bring a sweatshirt and you remembered about fifty percent of the time. It wasn’t one of those nights, though. You felt goosebumps break out over your arms as you plopped onto the picnic table outside the clubhouse. You looked up at the sky as you sipped on your beer, letting your mind empty out a bit before you headed home.
You heard heavy footsteps behind you and you glanced over your shoulder. You smiled when you saw that it was Juice. He walked over and stood next to the table, looking at you with a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Mind if I sit and grab a smoke?”
You eyed the joint that he was holding and you smiled, “Only if you share.”
“Fine by me,” he chuckled as he plopped down next to you, feet resting on the bench beside yours.
He flicked his lighter and lit the joint in his hand, taking a long drag off of it before handing it over to you. You smiled as you gently took it between your fingers. It had been ages since you last smoked, but you knew that Juice had good connections. Besides, if there was anyone in the club that you would trust with something like that it was Juice—he was too sweet to do something shady, especially to you.
You took a drag and fought the urge to cough as you handed it back to him. You slowly exhaled and laughed, “Sorry about the lipstick.”
He chuckled, “I’ve been told that this is a good shade for me, anyway,” he smiled as he put it back to his lips again.
The two of you sat there in semi-silence, passing the joint back and forth. He was usually so full of energy and had so much to say, you were surprised at how calm and quiet he was.  The outsides of your legs rested against each other and you glanced over at him, but he was so busy staring up at the stars that he didn’t even notice. You let it go.
Opie and Lyla walked out of the clubhouse, his arm draped around her shoulders. He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “All good?”
You nodded, “All good. Thanks, Ope,” you smiled at Lyla, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and said goodbye as the two of them crossed the lot to Opie’s bike and left. With a deep sigh you felt your body shiver. Juice felt you tremble against him and he looked over at you.
“I can run and grab you a hoodie if you want. I got a bunch in my dorm.”
You shook your head as you stood up, “No, that’s alright. I should get going, anyway.”
“Already?”
You laughed, “Hey, I’m off the clock. I don’t gotta stay here until everyone leaves this time,” you finished off your drink and set the bottle of the table next to him.
“Want a lift home?” there was a smile on his face.
You shook your head with a chuckle, “Not tonight. Thank you, though.”
“Tomorrow night?” he raised his eyebrows.
You smiled and placed a quick, soft kiss on his temple, “Goodnight, Juice.”
You could feel him watching you as you crossed the lot to your car, and you shook your head to yourself as you tried to contain your laughter. There was something about him that made you let it go—if it had been any of the other guys you would’ve shot a snarky comment their way for their lingering eyes. But with Juice it was just different.
Once you got home, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding. You dropped your purse to the floor next to your discarded shoes and made your way towards the bathroom to shower and rinse off the night. You closed your eyes as the soap suds slid down your body and made their way towards the shower drain. There wasn’t a single thought that crossed your mind that really stuck—each one of them disappeared as quickly as they showed up, and that was more than fine by you.
After your shower, you pulled on your most comfortable set of pajamas and huddled down in bed with the latest book that you had been making your way through. With a deep sigh you let yourself really settle against your pillows and under your blanket. You opened the book and dove in. However, every few pages or so, you found your eyes straying over to your phone.
Finally, after arguing with yourself about it for longer than you should have, you grabbed your phone and sent a text to Juice, “Don’t need bail. Just wanted to say thank you for tonight.”
You assumed that he knew it was you, because the response was immediate, “Don’t have to thank me for anything,” a few moments later a second text came through, “I should be the one thanking you for not kicking me off the table”
You laughed and shook your head as you typed out your response, “Well in that case…you’re welcome”
Shortly after sending the message, you passed out. Your hand was loosely cupping your phone as you drifted off to sleep, as if you were waiting for something more to happen.
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pillage-and-lute · 3 years
Note
How about-Hanahaki disease? Gerald/Jaskier? Happy ending please!
Nonny! Darling you read my mind, I’m an ‘angst with a happy ending’ kinda gal. Just so we’re clear, I know nothing of flower meanings and I didn’t research.
TW: Gore
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Jaskier first coughed up a flower at age three.
Poets loved Hanahaki, it was considered romantic, and those prone to it were tragic beauties, destined to languish, delicately spitting blood and rose petals into a silk handkerchief. No one really wrote about how it could be brought on by deeply unrequited platonic love.
Jaskier coughed a violet into his little fist and brought it to his mother, who turned him away.
Fifteen years down the line and having graduated Oxenfurt with honors, Jaskier was old hat at taking care of Hanahaki. His feelings, although often unrequited, were also often fleeting. A night spent coughing tulips into a bowl and a sore throat the next mroning, but rarely more than that.
If it persisted for a week or more there was tea. Any apothecary in even a mid sized city carried it. It was putrid and thick and slid down the throat like a cup of slugs, but in the morning there were no petals, and after two or three days of the stuff, the disease was gone. 
He was almost thankful for being so prone to Hanahaki, it was romantic and lended much to his chosen profession. People gave him sympathetic looks and free drinks if he sang a sad song and discreetly spat a rose petal into a handkerchief. Most of the time he simply didn’t mind it, and considered himself twice blessed with his mobile heart.
Sometimes he had nightmares of what would happen if he found true love.
The notions of true love itself was romantic, but everyone knew that your true love, the one you were fated to, if they didn’t love you in return no tea would save you.
He’d watched a friend, a grad student at Oxenfurt, die of it. It was no delicate coughing into handkerchiefs, no poetic languishing. He’d held her hair back as she threw up petals and blood, crying as she clutched the bucket with skeletal hands because she could no longer force food down a torn throat. 
It had been so slow, she’d said between pulling thorned stems from her mouth. More than a decade of loving the boy she’d had a crush on in her small town village. She’d lived through it all, only occassionally throwing up flowers. Always snow white roses, for him, apparently. It would have been wonderfully artistic if Jaskier didn’t know how they looked covered in blood.
Then she’d gone to his wedding to the baker’s daughter and two weeks later he watched her cough out roots wrapped around a chunk of lung and screamed for a doctor knowing it was too late. The blood stain never washed fully out of the floor.
And she’d said it was worth it. That she wouldn’t have stopped loving him for the world, even as she said it through a throat full of thorns. 
Jaskier never understood it, leaping from town to town, avoiding long term connections while knowing all the while that if fate wanted him to fall in love he would. Denying Destiny only made things nastier, he knew. And then, in a tevern in Posada, with bread in his pants and a hole in his boot, his eyes met pure gold. 
It took a split second, less probably, for him to realize that, although he didn’t love the man yet, for love at first sight truly is a poet’s myth, he could love this man. And if he died for this man, maybe the love would be worth it after all.
The man was a witcher, who punched him in the gut and stank of onion and talked to his horse. Jaskier followed him anyway.
He followed him and coughed up flowers, different blossoms for different people, and he began to fall deeper in love. He wondered sometimes what flowers he would cough, as the bouquets turned into only one kind. 
What flower would represent Geralt? Not buttercups or dandelions, certainly. Perhaps if someone else were to catch Hanahaki for Jaskier those would be for him. Geralt wasn’t a dandelion. He was grumpy and spiky and after ten years wouldn’t even call Jaskier a friend. 
In the dead of night Jaskier feared it would be white roses, like he’d seen once before.
And then Geralt died in a collapsing building only to be alive and fucking a purple-eyed sorceress after nearly killing Jaskier with a djinn. Jaskier vomited flowers not twelve hours after vomiting blood.
Snow drops, tiny and delicate. And from that point forth he never coughed up any other kind.
It didn’t progress so quickly though. Jaskier had expected to die within a month of Geralt meeting Yennefer. He didn’t. Love and sex weren’t the same thing, and his love didn’t go totally unrequited either. It wasn’t the same sort of love, but in the quiet moments just after dawn it was enough. 
Then Geralt made a choice.
He wouldn’t kill dragons, he didn’t hunt sapient creatures, he wanted nothing to do with the dragon hunt, until he caught sight of Yennefer.
And that left Geralt and Jaskier, on top of a mountain, as Geralt screamed into the wind that Jaskier meant nothing to him. Jaskier felt the roots set in.
He wasn’t going to get the story from the others. He could barely breathe, the pain was so sharp and intense and he could feel it growing, feel the flowers growing. Little snowdrops had no right to be so painful.
He wasn’t going to make it off the mountain.
Jaskier took a different trail down, and then wandered into the forest a little way, coughing blood and stems the whole way. He collapsed under a tree, blood staining his doublet. He wished he had a friend to clutch his hand, hold his hair back and rub his back like he’d done more than twenty years ago. 
There wouldn’t be a funeral though. No one would know what had happened to Jaskier the bard. Worse, no one would know what happened to Julian, the person, the man. As he threw up a clump of flowers and blood he felt very much like the scared little boy who threw up a flower for the first time. 
It hurt. It burned and shredded his throat and he wanted a friend and he didn’t have any. He’d thrown all his eggs in one basket twenty years ago and Geralt had kicked that basket off the mountain. 
Jaskier leaned his lute up against the tree. It’d be such a shame to get blood on the lovely girl. He curled up next to it, in a fetal position on his side as the coughs wracked his whole body. 
His friend had lasted two weeks, he thought. But her rejection was a wedding. Not her best friend and the love of her life telling her never to see him again. That he was a burden. That if life or Destiny could give him one blessing it would be to take Jaskier off his hands. And Destiny was going to deliver. She had made Jaskier love Geralt, and she would kill him by it. 
Still, Jaskier would have given anything for the comfort of his friend right now. He began to cry, snot and tears and blood and petals all mixing. He couldn’t even breathe, his lungs burned so bad. 
His vision was blurry.
He could hear noises, tromping through the forest and who knew what awful creatures lurked here. Just like Dame Destiny to have him disembowled while dying of Hanahaki.
It was dark, but it had been noon on the mountain. Black clouds swirled and closed in his vision.
A strangled noise.
No monster made that noise. That was a man-made noise. It sounded very much how Jaskier had felt on the mountaintop. He retched up a flower and tasted pollen and iron.
“Jaskier!”
He didn’t remember hallucinations being part of the final stages, but the brain played funny tricks.
“Jaskier!” There it was again, and he was being bundled up tight to a chest that was not at all comfortable and smelled of horse and leather and sweat and onion. A buckle of Geralt’s armor dug into his cheek. Jaskier’s mouth was full of stems and roots.
GLoved fingers dug in, pulling snowdrops from between his lips and then Geralt kissed him. It was entirely awful and unsatisfying. 
Dimly Jaskier came to the realization that it was not supposed to a kiss, but Geralt trying to blow air into his flowering lungs. A nice gesture but unhelpful.
He lolled his head to the side to throw up another clump of root, not wanting to throw up directly into Geralt’s mouth. 
A shudder ran through the chest he was pressed against, like a tremor before an earthquake. Then a sob.
It was quiet. The worst sobs are. 
Geralt lay Jaskier down on the floor, one hand cupped beneath his head, gently cradling. Then the witcher curled next to him, face pressed against a pale neck streaked with blood, and cried.
Jaskier wanted to comfort him, to stroke a hand through soft white hair one last time and thank him for not letting him die alone. He just didn’t have the strength.
Another wretched, tiny sob, then, “I’m sorry, Jaskier. I’m so sorry.” Oh that wasn’t fair. A tear leaked from Jaskier’s eye.
“I’m sorry,” Geralt continued, face pressed into Jaskier’s collarbone. “I didn’t mean it, I was angry and tired and I’ve hurt you but please,” the voice faded to barely a whisper. “Please don’t leave me, I didn’t mean it, I love you don’t leave me here alone.”
Don’t leave him here alone. Jaskier though. Destiny owed him, owed them both for all she’d put them through. Don’t make him lonely, he prayed. I don’t want to leave him alone.
Geralt held Jaskier tighter, pressing even closer like he was trying to meld them into one. “I love you,” he said. “I’m sorry, Jaskier. I love you.”
The world went white.
Jaskier blinked his eyes open with blood in his mouth. It didn’t seem to deter Geralt, who kissed him so thoroughly his head felt light. Then Geralt pulled him upright. There was blood on the ground around them, some even streaked into Geralt’s hair. 
There were no stems though.
The forest floor had been carpeted for ten feet all around them with snowdrops, planted firmly in earth instead of lungs. They were so close together it looked like a sudden snowfall, trailing to fewer and farther between at the edges of their little pool of white. 
“I...” Jaskier said, letting Geralt pull him to his feet. He wasn’t sure what to say but it turns out he needn’t say anything. Geralt was clutching him like a lifeline and tucking a snowdrop into his hair.
“I smelled blood,” he said, lips brushing into Jaskier’s brown fringe. “I smelled blood and was so afraid. I haven’t been truly afraid in so long and then I found those wretched flowers.” Geralt took a shaky breath. 
“I truly thought it was too late.” He pulled back and looked into Jaskier’s eyes. Geralt’s own yellow ones were dry but the emotion was clear. “I thought I had lost you, my love.” A gloved hand, only slightly bloody stroked Jaskier’s cheek. “I thought I had lost you, my life’s greatest gift. And I wanted to lay down beside you and die as well.”
Jaskier chuckled wetly. “You overdramatic sod,” he said between watery sniffles. “What a ridiculous notion. And I can’t believe it takes me dying to turn you into a romantic.”
“Almost dying,” Geralt said firmly. There was panic written plain across his face, as if he was terrified that time would slam into reverse just to take Jaskier from him. Another embrace, just this side of bone crushing. “Almost dying, my love.”
“Not dead, my love,” Jaskier responded. 
As they made their way down the mountain snowdrops bloomed in their footsteps, but they were too busy looking at each other to notice.
792 notes · View notes
the-little-shadow · 3 years
Text
Beautiful, My Beautiful Lady.
Cold anon : Hello there sleepyhead, just wanna ask - do you take some request about writing too? If yes, could you do Donna x Servant(male) reader with a song that i do adore by mindy gledhill? If not - then please ignore this request!
I hope you have a great day or night! -Cold Anon.
Sleepyhead : Hello there -i finally have my personal Anon- and yes, i could do it for you so no need to be shy to request something! Though it'll take some time since i'm still a college student- i hope you like it!
A/N : the reader has telekinesis-
Summary: Donna sings to herself as the reader leaves the house to buy some groceries from Duke. The song contains Donna's feelings for the reader and she doesn't realize that the reader hears the song she sings. Can Donna explain the truth to the reader? In particular, can the reader accept Donna's feelings?
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Seeing that it had snowed and the temperature was starting to get colder, [Y/N] took the coat that was hanging and put it on neatly. [Y/N] didn't forget to also wear a scarf Donna made. Taking a deep breath, the [colour] eyes immediately turned towards to the hanging mirror. A gentle smile slowly etched on his face, [Y/N] was so happy that he finally got to wear the scarf that was so precious to him.
Angie, the doll, notice this. She immediately got off the chair and approached [Y/N]. "Where do you want to go?" she asked, tilting her head. "Ah, Angie. I just wanted to buy some things from the Duke - we are run out of groceries. Can you tell Lady Beneviento that I'll be back soon?" Angie's attention immediately turned to the window showing the snowy season outside, she looked back at [Y/N]. Quickly, the doll hugged [Y/N]'s pants tightly making [Y/N] flinch slightly.
"Then come back soon, okay? It's so cold outside, Donna and I don't want you to get sick, even worse, a high fever like that time."
[Y/N] softened his gaze then he squatted down and patted Angie's head lightly, "I promise, I won't be long." After reassuring the doll, [Y/N] stood back up and started to grip the doorknob. "I'm sure of that." Angie watched his figure leave their house and closed the door so the temperature inside the house wouldn't get colder.
Not wanting to make the Dollmaker wait long, Angie immediately went to Donna's room. She opened the door and saw the owner of the house was now sewing clothes for other dolls. "Mother! Father said he was going away for a while to buy some things from the Duke, he promised he would be back soon." Angie told Donna as she walked over to her.
"Is that so? he'd better keep his word." Donna replied, she looked at Angie then motioned herself to sit on her lap. "Father also wears a scarf that Mother made for him. He looks very handsome when he wears it." She exclaimed happily, both of Donna's cheeks blushed as she imagined the man wearing the scarf she had made.
"Angie, please. Stop calling him Father. He's not my lover nor husband-"
"-Yet. He's going to be MY Father soon."
Donna couldn't help but sigh when Angie said that, she immediately finished her work for hours and then she went to the main room with Angie in her arms. She looked at the painting of herself and Angie with the man, a gentle smile she could see on [Y/N]'s handsome face. The man's presence made her life shine brighter again, Donna was really grateful for that.
She slowly hummed then she began to sing, "everything you do it sends me,"
She put Angie on the chair and took a photo of [Y/N] which was on the table. "higher than the moon with every twinkle in your eyes,"
She started to circle around the table while looking at [Y/N]'s photo, "you strike a match that lights my heart on fire-"
Hearing this, Angie immediately panicked, "Mother - Are you okay!?" Donna looked at Angie and then she reassured her doll that she was fine. "When you're near i hide my blushing face and trip on my shoelaces" Angie just rolled her eyes and let Donna continue singing.
"Grace just isn't my forte- but it brings me to my knees when you say,"
The Dollmaker put the man's photo frame back and poured the tea into her cup "hello, how are you, my darling, today?"
After pouring tea into each cup, Donna took her seat and held hers, "i fall into a pile on the floor, puppy love is hard to ignore."
Donna turned her attention to the man's photo frame "when every little thing you do i do.. Adore." Then she put on her sad smile on her delicate face. With that, Donna sipped her tea with a calm and messy feeling.
"... lady Beneviento?"
Donna's eye widened when she heard her servant's voice, Angie immediately look at her Mother's back and saw [Y/N] is now standing in front of the door with blush on his cheeks. "Ohoho~ he's already back Mother- you better confess or this awkward atmosphere will engulf the two of you, Welcome back! Come join us, [Y/N]!!" The man putting all the supplies and groceries on the near table and then he slowly walked up to his Lady and Angie. Donna didn't utter a single word since she's too busy thinking that 'did her servant listen to everything she just sing?' She's really afraid to see [Y/N]'s expression right now.
"What are waiting for? Come, sit down next to Donna!" Angie invited the man and making him sit next to the head of the house Beneviento. And nope, no words are coming out of the Lady's mouth nor the servant's mouth.
Silence engulf the room, Angie roll her eyes as she cross her wooden arms, "Okay, quick question; [Y/N]!"
"Y-Yes..!?"
"Did you hear the song? The song that Donna just sing?" She question while tilting her head, The man hesitately nod his head and lower his head, "i'm sorry if that's.. Uncomfortable for you, Lady Beneviento." The servant apologize to his lady immediately, Donna sighs in relief, "No need to apologize, [Y/N]. Just-.. Don't tell the other lords that i-i.. I could sing, because it'll be embarassing.."
"Of course, i will never bring it up unless you want me to, my lady."
Once again, Silence engulf the three of them. Angie decide to break the boring silence, "Did you hear the i do adore part, [Y/N]?" She ask again - making Donna roll her eye behind her long black veil.
"Yes, Angie." he answered as he try to stay calm. "Then... What do you think about it?" He raised his eyebrows in confusion, "Pardon?" Angie giggles at this and then she bounced in her sit, "about Donna that she adore you silly!"
His face immediately turn red as tomato then he turned his attention away from the doll while clear his throat. "Well... It's an honor for me if lady Beneviento adore-" before he finish his sentence, Angie cut him off "in romantic way! Not platonic or something like that!" his eyes widened after hearing her statement.
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"Angie!" Donna exclaimed at her precious doll, Angie just keep grinning to herself
"Well.. About that i-" he pause himself, not sure about to answer. Donna look at her servant in hopeful way, believing him that he would not leave her and Angie like the others did for years.
The man served Donna with respect, no yelling or protest from him, he always waited and remained patient to get other instructions from Donna, he also understood the problems Donna had experienced.
He is Kind, Understanding, Generous, Gentle and very Polite. How could Donna not fall in love with him- let alone the girls in the village?
Donna stayed silent; clearly not focus on her servant and her doll talking. Until Angie gently shake her shoulder, "Donna? Donna are you okay?" the woman glance at her doll behind her long black veil and nod her head, gesturing to continue.
Instead of talking, Angie immediately laughed and leave the room while giving the servant thumbs up. Donna is confused, why is she suddenly leave the room - especially alone with the man she adored so much?
Without wasting any time, [Y/N] got up from his seat and walk over to the lady then knelt down while gently grab her delicate hands. "Lady Beneviento i-.. Honestly, i adore you too. I adore you with all my heart. I don't care what the other say about this, i don't want to believe their words or the negative comments about you."
He can feel that Donna's hands are shaking when he keep holding it and tell her everything about how he felt towards her. "I-is it true? That you adore me too?" Donna ask her servant while trembling - then a smile that she loved so much is already on his face, "of course, i adore you so much. That's why, i would do anything for you and there will be question when you're going order me to do it." he answered while puffing his chest like a happy kiddo.
Donna chuckled then shook her head, slowly the chuckle turned into soft sobs. [Y/N] immediately gave her a comfortable and warm hug; waited until Donna calmed down.
"I-i'm sorry.. I just- i'm so happy right now.." The dollmaker tried to explain but cut off by her servant, "i understand, i'm also happy too when you adored me since...?" "since you take care of me when i'm sick." "ah yes, that one year ago. Wait, For that long!? Now i feel really bad for not notice this sooner."
Donna put her hand on his shoulder, "please, don't be. I understand that some feelings are blooming with a long time. Well, mine is already bloom in front of you.." [Y/N] chuckled at her then stare at the veil with curiousness. When Donna notice the stare he immediately avert his gaze to somewhere else and then slowly stood up. "I almost forgot that i have something for you, Lady Beneviento-". "Please, call me Donna, [Y/N]."
‘Donna? So Donna Beneviento is her full name? What a beautiful name for a percious yet fragile lady like her..’
He smiled at her and then nod his head, [Y/N] gp to the bag full of groceries he just buy and then he take a small white box from the bag. He look at Donna with full of admiration and Happiness then he showed her the gift. "For you, My lady."
Donna take the small white box and open it, she gasp when she saw a beautiful diamond ring that shine like the moonlight she loved so much. "This ring.. It's very beautiful, how much for a beautiful ring is this?" she ask while examining the ring with carefully.
[Y/N] shrugged at the question, "1000 lei - it's not that much-" "1000 lei?! [Y/N], this ring is very expensive and you-.. You buy it with your own money just to give it to.. A disgusting woman l-like me?"
[Y/N] frown at this and then shook his head, "why would you say something like that? I don't adore an ugly woman; because i believe that every women in this world are beautiful, especially you, My Lady." Donna keep silent as she fight for herself to not let a single tear fall again. Even though [Y/N] couldn't see it behind her veil.
There's silence for a moment, until [Y/N] ask her a permission that she will not let everyone touch it. "May i?" he ask while gestures to her veil, she is debating with her mind and her heart is beating uncontrolable. With that, she decide to let him - to show him her true face.
But before he take off her veil, Donna felt that his hand gave her a comfort squeeze and let her calm herself down again. Minutes has passed, Donna nod her so her servant can finally lift her veil.
And when he did, the massive growth of flesh that overtook the woman's right side of her face - completely replacing her right eye is what he sees. [Y/N]'s eyes widened at his lady's face -the horror and fear in Donna's eye- before she's rambling about negative things about herself, [Y/N] immediately shut her with a sudden hug again. Letting her tears flow on his chest. Donna hug him tight for her dear life.
[Y/N] whispers something to comfort her and rub her back gently, he even kiss her forehead - not carring about the massive flesh. He wiped her tears and then smile softly at her, his gaze making Donna's heart melt with joy. The way he look at her is his reply, he accept her. Everything about her.
‘and i still adore you so much.’
“Beautiful, My Beautiful Lady.” he whispers while cupping her pale cheek, and then when they are about to close the gap between the two of them - Angie barged in the room while screaming, "AAAAA DONNA SAVE ME FROM THOSE BEES!!" She jumped on her lap and hug her tightly as she buried her face on donna's neck.
[Y/N] snapped his fingers and the entrance was instantly closed before the bees entered the Beneviento estate. Their attention turn to [Y/N] who is smiling happily after shutting the door closed without touching it. "The bees won't harm you anymore-"
"YOU-.. YOU'RE A TELEKINESIS JUST LIKE THAT METAL HIMBO BRAIN ROT!?" Angie ask [Y/N] with eagerness as she sat on his lap instead of Donna's.
"I don't know who are you talking about but yes, i'm a telekinesis." [Y/N] answered while pat her head and still hold Donna's hand as if there was nothing happened after seeing her true face. "So... Did i ruined the moment?" Angie asks with her smug face, "well, a little bit." [Y/N] answer her, He can feel that Donna held his hand and give him a tiny squeeze.
"Ohoho~ alright alright! I won't bother you two and i'll close my eyes!" With that, she immediately closed her eyes with her wooden hands as she keep giggling.
Donna roll her eye and then she glance at her soon-to-be lover, [Y/N] grinned at her then take her veil off slowly that showing her black silky hair with a small bun behind it, he smiled at her and then cupped her pale cheek.
"When every little thing you do, i do adore."
Donna smiled shyly at him and close the gap between the two of them - to make it official about their feelings and their relationship.
"Now finally; i have my own father!"
"Angie- "
---
134 notes · View notes
averykedavra · 3 years
Text
A Vision with Nowhere to Go
Hi, yes, the Roman skirt pics watered my crops and healed my soul, so I wrote a quick drabble in their honor! This was entirely unplanned. But. Hi. Yes. The Roman skirt picks watered my crops and healed my soul, so--
(Title is from Ready to Go by Panic! at the Disco. This fic is on Ao3 here!)
Pairings: platonic DLAMP
Words: 1742
Warnings: a bit of insecurity and anxiety
“I’ve gathered you here,” Roman said, “for an important consultation. Thank you all for coming.”
Patton grinned back. Logan looked confused. Virgil blinked blearily, having been just dragged from his bed and plopped on the living room couch with the other Sides. Janus stifled a yawn with one gloved hand, another drumming on his knee.
“Do we...” Logan paused. “Am I alone in being confused?”
“Oh, no, you’re the only one who doesn’t get it,” Janus drawled. He examined his nails. “I had important things to do. This had better be worth it.”
“You owe me,” Roman said. He squared his shoulders and prepared his speech. “And this is extremely important. Life-threatening! A dilemma for the ages!”
“Yay!” Patton said, clapping.
“Wait, wait.” Virgil squinted suspiciously across the couch. “Deceit is here?”
“I don’t have a name.”
“Janus is here because, as I said, he owes me.” Roman paused and braced himself. “Also, although I’m loathe to admit it, he is skilled in the dramatic arts. Such as--fashion.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Virgil leaned back into the pillows. “He wears gardening gloves from the nineteen-fifties.”
Janus looked offended. “You threw random squares of flannel onto your hoodie, and you call me lacking fashion sense--”
“Kiddos,” Patton said firmly. “This is about Roman right now. Shush.”
Virgil grumbled but went silent. Janus gave Logan a knowing, annoyed look. Logan didn’t return it.
“It is about me,” Roman said, beaming. He was jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. “Now, as you know, we’ve been having some lovely photoshoots. Patton looked adorable--”
“Aw, kiddo!”
“Logan looked like a librarian who would tell me to shut up--”
“How dare you.”
“And Virgil somehow managed to be more edgy than ever.” Roman talked loudly over Virgil’s hiss. “And now, it’s my turn.”
“Oh, are you finally doing your photoshoot?” Janus sighed in relief. “You’ve taken forever. I can’t go until you do.”
“I’ve taken my sweet time, as a sweet prince should.” Roman gestured dramatically at them. “However, I must admit that I’ve hit a--roadblock of sorts. Namely, I can’t decide on a skirt.”
“Oh!” Patton nodded. “I’m sure you could search up one on Ebay--”
“One, Padre,” Roman said, raising a finger, “no one uses Ebay anymore.” Virgil nodded in agreement. “Two, the problem does not lie in finding possible skirts. I have found plenty. I simply cannot decide on one.”
Everyone on the couch suddenly winced. “I know where this is going,” Virgil muttered. “Don’t say it.”
“So,” Roman said, bravely muscling on. “I’ve enlisted you to help me choose the perfect skirt.”
Virgil groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Come on, Princey. I trusted you.”
“That sounds like fun!” Patton said. He looked around for support. “Aren’t you guys excited?”
“Ecstatic,” Janus said, pulling his bowler hat over his face. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Hey, no!” Roman pouted. “I need your help on this! It won’t be so bad!”
“Much as I hate to admit it,” Logan said slowly, “this is hardly my area of expertise. Surely you can make the choice yourself?”
“No!” Roman threw up his hands. “No, I can’t! I’ve tried for days, and I’ve narrowed it down to a few dozen, but there are just too many! I don’t know what shade of red I’d like, or what accents, or whether it should be a skirt or a dress--I haven’t decided on frills, or trimming, or lace, or layers, or anything!”
“Just wing it!” Virgil shrugged. “I grabbed the first skirt that looked cool. I know it sounds weird coming from me, but dude, don’t overthink it.”
“How can I not overthink it?” Roman raised an arm into the air. “I am posing for an audience of thousands! I have the single spotlight! I don’t wish for blemishes to be burned into view!”
“I have skin cream, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Janus blinked at everyone’s surprised look. “Self-care includes skin care!”
“Figurative blemishes,” Roman corrected, and Logan huffed smugly. “I want to look perfect. I need to look perfect. Except I don’t know what skirt to pick!”
“I dunno, kiddo.” Patton looked hesitant to contradict him. “I hear what you’re saying, but maybe Virgil’s right? This isn’t such a big deal. Have fun with it! Pick whatever skirt makes you smile!”
“I’ll smile with whatever makes me look like a prince.” Roman sighed. “It’s hard to focus on that when everything else is happening. It is a big deal. I know it is.”
“You don’t have to post your picture right away,” Logan said. “If you’d like, you can take your time, or not post one at all.”
“Janus is waiting for me to finish!” Roman gestured almost violently at Janus. “And I can’t just quit, that’s worse!”
Logan raised a hand in surrender. “Fine. You simply seem...agitated about the prospect. I don’t wish for you to feel undue stress.”
“Easy for you to say,” Roman snapped. “You looked great.”
“I--” Logan blinked. “I did?”
“Yeah! All of you did!” Roman waved his arms. “And I--I have to be at least as good as you guys, or better, because princes are extremely photogenic! They have the best outfits! They look good, and so must I!”
Virgil frowned and gave Patton a look. Patton shifted back and forth on the edge of the couch. Janus fingered his gloves again, pulling the edges across his skin, like he was considering whether to take them off.
“You’ll look good no matter what.” Logan coughed. “You are...nearly identical to us, so if we do, so will you. Objectively.”
“Yeah, you’ll look fine.” Virgil gestured at him. “You always do.”
“I know,” Roman said, and there was a weight to his words. As if Virgil hadn’t actually reassured him.
Janus’ fingers tightened around his gloves.
“It’s okay.” Patton’s voice came out as a whisper. He was staring at his knees. “I--I know you want something good right now, Roman. I get that. Just--this doesn’t need to be your...redemption, or whatever you’re trying to make it. It’s just a skirt. It really just should be fun.”
Logan’s mouth formed a small o. Virgil nodded.
“Patton’s right,” Janus said, his voice clipped. He was avoiding Roman’s eyes. “In my honest opinion, all pictures look better when the subject is enjoying themselves. Haven’t you seen those dull Victorian pictures? If you’re happy--smiling, even--I don’t think anyone will care about the minutia of your outfit. I certainly wouldn’t.”
Roman was quiet.
“Yeah,” Virgil said. “What--what Janus said. We’re rooting for you, no matter what.”
“If this upsets you, I highly encourage you to take a pause.” Logan drummed his fingers on his tie. “Or...find a way to make the process more enjoyable.”
Roman shifted from foot to foot, pulling at his sash. "I--I tried. I wanted to.”
“You did?” Patton frowned. “When?”
“With...you guys.” Roman’s voice faltered. “I thought it would be--fun. If you helped. We could just--have fun. It was stupid.”
Logan’s eyebrows raised. Virgil sucked in a breath.
“That’s not stupid,” Janus said.
Roman sunk into himself, just a bit.
A clap of hands startled them all. Patton had sat up, looking determined. “So. What do we do? Do you have anything narrowed down?”
“Oh, I--” Roman stepped back. “You...you don’t have to, Padre. It’s okay.”
“We want to.” Virgil looked around. “Right?”
“Right,” Janus said. “It would be a shame to let you look like a complete fashion disaster.”
“I would be...amenable to helping.” Logan shot Roman a small smile. “It is not my area of expertise. However, I do know much about the process of creating fabric, and I--would appreciate the experience.”
“We want to do this for you, kiddo.” Patton looked up at Roman. “If it’s this much of a big deal for you, we’re gonna help.”
For a second, Roman’s eyes shone with tears. Then he blinked, and they shone with excitement. “You’re sure?”
Four thumbs up.
“Alright,” Roman said, beaming. “Let’s do this! Research time! Grab your stuff!”
Patton jumped up and ran to the kitchen, probably to make a batch of dress-up cookies. Logan pulled out his notebook and pen. Virgil started tapping at his phone. Roman stood and watched them, still smiling, smiling brighter than he had in days.
“That,” Janus said, pointing at him. “That’s what you do. Perfect.”
“What?” Roman laughed. “What do I do?”
“Smile like that for the picture.” Janus shrugged. “It’ll work spectacularly, in my humble opinion.”
“Oh.” Roman looked around and waved at Patton, who waved back. “I--I might not smile that wide. I’m not sure if--you know, it’s not exactly regal and princely. Besides, I’m not sure if I want--” He glanced at Virgil, who saluted him. “To be so...open. Not just yet.”
Janus watched him with an unreadable expression. Then he nodded, his lips lifting in a smile of his own. “That’s more than fine.”
“Really?” Roman asked.
“Of course.” Janus gestured at Logan, who was knee-deep in paper, and Patton and Virgil. “It will look great regardless. You have yourself a skilled design crew--with a talented fashionista at the reins, also known as myself.”
“Thanks,” Roman said. “For all the help. And for--yeah.”
Janus looked taken aback at the sincerity. His smile softened. “It really will look great, Roman. It’s you, after all.”
“It is,” Patton agreed, with a nod from Logan. “Any picture of our kiddo is a great one.”
“Amen.” Virgil smirked. “Pictures are crap. We know how cool you really look, no matter what you do.”
“Besides, we’re here to help.” Logan looked up and held out a pen. “Would you like to show us some of your ideas for the skirt? We could use those to find a good match.”
Roman paused. Then he took the pen.
“This is gonna be fun,” he said, "and it’s going to look so good.”
And it was. And it did.
And Roman loved the dress they chose, but he knew he wouldn’t remember the photo in the end. He’d remember the hours spent sprawled on the couch with his friends, sketching ribbons and lace, laughing and planning and eating Patton’s cookies. The photo came out great. The memories came out better.
The photo looked good. Roman looked good.
He felt good. That was more important. That was the part that made him smile afterwards, off-camera and off-stage, out of the spotlight.
Maybe the photo wasn’t the big deal, after all. Maybe Roman was.
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320 notes · View notes
greaterawarness · 3 years
Note
Request: platonic or pre-relationship Codywan in some sort of hurt/comfort or intense trust/friendship situation?
(Okay sorry this is a few days late! I ended up surprisingly busy... anyway here it is! I've never written Codywan before and hope you like it!)
“Blast!” General Kenobi curses after failing to move the collapsed cave ceiling. They had fallen into one of Grievous’s traps resulting them to be nearly crushed in a cave in. Now, separated from the rest of his men, Cody is alone with the General.
“We should keep moving, Sir. I don’t think we’ll be getting out that way.” Cody says with his blaster in his hand. The General steps back staring at the wall of ice and rock before giving a reluctant sigh.
“You are right. Only thing to do now is to keep going.” He says walking past Cody. They walk in silence listening for anything that could be an enemy lurking in the tunnel. Cody tries to hide his shivering from the General. He guessed there were worse places to be trapped. He knew there were better ones. He wears his thermal gear suited to handle cold weather, but the chill still seemed to reach him. He glances at the General. He wears even less then Cody but shows no sign of being cold. He notched it up to being a Jedi thing.
“We must find a way to regroup with the 212th before sundown. Or else we’re in for a long cold night.” The General says breaking their silence. Cody doesn’t say anything. This is the first time he and the General have been alone together since the Clone Wars began. So far, it’s been constant boots on ground and endless battles. If it didn’t have anything to do with the battle at hand, they didn’t communicate with each other. Cody was fine with that. He was happy among his brothers. He didn’t feel the need to be friends with the Jedi unlike Rex. Cody shakes his head as he steps over a slippery boulder. Rex always finds a way to make a new friend everywhere he goes. Cody would have lost himself in his thoughts if it weren’t for the General slipping on the icy cave floor. Cody reaches out to steady him.
“You alright?” He asks. The General chuckles to himself while finding his footing.
“Just some ice. Nothing to worry about,” he says with a hand lifting to push some of his hair out of his face. “But why don’t we rest for a moment. We haven’t stopped moving since we arrived to this planet.”
Cody nods before walking over to sit on a stone. He has to force himself to hide a shiver when he feels the cold from the stone through his pants. He glances at the General once more. He looks tired and worn. They have been going a long time. Grievous hasn’t given them much time to rest and even when they did, Cody and the General were always on their feet making sure everything was running smoothly. He’s never seen a Jedi tired before. On Kamino, the bounty hunters would talk about Jedi like they were gods. Now Cody knows that they are only mortal. Just like everyone else.
“Something on your mind, Commander?” The General’s eyes lock onto his even through his helmet. He tried to remember if seeing through objects was also a Jedi trick.
“No, Sir.” He says plainly. He lifts his weapon to start inspecting it if only to take his eyes away from the General. But the General doesn’t turn his gaze.
“I can sense unrest in you, Commander. It’s only the two of us. You can speak freely.” He says not letting the silence settle. Cody lets out a tired sigh.
“I’m just inspecting my blaster, Sir.” Cody says lifting his blaster slightly before going back over it.
“If there’s something bothering you, I’d like for you to tell me.” He insists.
“Is that an order?” Cody says a little to harshly. The General pauses before pulling his eyes away.
“No, I just… it’s nothing.” He says. Cody frowns under his helmet. He hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. He rests back against the frozen cave wall placing his blaster at his side.
“I never fought at the first battle of Geonosis.” Cody says at last. The General cautiously looks back to Cody. “But the casualty report of that battle was… horrifying. We Clones spent our entire lives training for this war. We spent our entire lives hearing of how powerful and wise the Jedi are but after that battle? It’s hard to but my trust back in the Jedi when I know how flawed you are now. It’s put a sour taste in a lot of clones mouths.”
“I can imagine how disappointing we must be.” The General says slowly. Cody wasn’t expecting that answer. He had fully prepared himself to be chewed out or worse. He was sure Skywalker would have given him a few death threats. Cody rests a little deeper against the cave wall.
“And what about you?” He asks. When the General arches a brow he continues. “What is your opinion of us clones?”
The General’s eyebrows rise before furrowing in deep thought. He leans against the cave with a hand lifted to his chin. A common pose he takes when thinking.
“Well, for one thing, you all share the face of the man that tried to kill me on my first visit to Kamino.” He says at last. Cody chuckles. The General rubs his arms seeming more human than Jedi.
“Are you cold?” Cody asks. The General lowers his hands back to his lap.
“I’ll be fine. We should get moving though.” The General says getting to his feet suddenly. Cody wondered if he wasn’t supposed to point out Jedi flaws. Though, he supposed he already did that. He starts wondering if he’ll have to kiss being a commander goodbye when they regroup with the 212th. Still, he said what he thought should have been said.
They walk deeper into the cave feeling the temperature drop lower and lower. The General ignites his lightsaber for light while Cody uses his headlamps. They come to an impasse with the tunnel breaking off into two different ways.
“We should go this way.” They both say while pointing to a different tunnel. They stare at each other.
“My scanners are picking up wind. There might be a way out this way.” Cody says while gesturing towards the right path.
“I am a Jedi. I can sense these things.” The General says. Cody would argue more if it weren’t for a noise echoing out of the tunnel the General is wanting to go down. It’s coughing. Grievous.
“Oh yeah? Well did you sense that?” Cody asks. The General frowns before running down the right path. They struggle to run while trying not to bust their asses on the ice. They were both certain that Grievous was down the left tunnel, but his coughing is only getting louder. Neither Cody nor the General dared say a word. Their footsteps were already making to much sound. Cody slips barely in time to miss the green lightsaber cutting through the icy cave wall. He slides down the tunnel before Grievous bursts through to their side.
“General Kenobi!” Grievous coughs.
“Grievous, how lovely for you to join us.” The General says with his lightsaber drawn. Cody gets to his feet with his blaster ready. He fires at the battle droids marching slowly behind Grievous. The General engages Grievous in the small tunnel. Between all the blaster fire and swinging lightsabers Cody was sure the tunnel was bound to collapse. He needed to get the General out of here. While he thinks of all their options, he notices the General lose his footing before hitting the ground hard. Grievous lets out a chilling laugh while lifting a lightsaber in the air. Cody reacted without thought. His body dove to push the General out of the way but not before Grievous can slice the left side of his helmet. Pain explodes across his face and back of the head. He knows he’s on the ground, but he can comprehend little else. He lifts a trembling hand to his face. It’s wet with warm liquid. He can’t open his eyes to see. He feels hands grabbing him before he’s sliding across the floor.
“Hold on Cody!” the General’s voice yells. Cody tries to regain some control over his body. He forces his right eye open. He and the General are sliding across the cave floor. The General must be using the Force to keep them going. Grievous isn’t far behind them. He takes his blaster and shakily aims it at the cave ceiling. He fires wincing at the ringing in his ears but grinning when the ceiling starts to collapse on the saber swinging asshole. Cody looks forward to see an immediate drop in the cave floor. The General tries to stop them but he’s to tired and they’re going to fast to stop. They cling to each other before falling into the dark whole.
“…ake up! Cody, wake up!” The General’s voice starts out distant before turning into shouting. Cody slowly opens his right eye feeling his body ache and scream from pain.
“What happened?” He croaks. His voice cracks and feels sore. The General sits back on his knees with a relieved sigh. Cody notices a large purple bruise on his forehead and his busted lip.
“Well, I guess you can say we’ve hit rock bottom.” He says making Cody crack a small smile.
“I’d call this ice bottom.” Cody chuckles and then winces at the pain.
“Nice to see you’ve developed a sense of humor.” The General chuckles. Cody looks around trying to take in their situation the most he can without moving. They’re completely surrounded by ice with only the light of his headlamp to see. Seems the ceiling collapsed on top of them as they fell. The General gives a full body shiver.
“Come here,” Cody says with his arm stretching out slowly. The General arches a brow. “Lay with me.”
“Commander, you haven’t even bought me a drink yet.” The General smirks. Cody rolls his eyes.
“It’s to share body heat you ass.” He says. The General slowly slides forward before curling into Cody’s side.
“I’m impressed.” The General says through chattering teeth. “You ah—actually called me an ah—ass.”
“Oh, I’ve called you an ass multiple times. Just not out loud.” Cody admits making the General laugh. The General shifts so he can sit up.
“Let me see your wound.” He says managing to keep the teeth chattering to a minimum. He reaches for Cody’s helmet. Cody didn’t stop him. Mostly because he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He winces as the helmet lifts off his head. He flinches at the intensity of the cold and of the pain across the left side of his face. The General stares down at him with eyes filled with worry. Cody hears a tearing sound before cloth is being pressed to his face. He sucks air through his teeth at the pressure. “I’m sorry.”
“What was that?” Cody asks with his whole body tensing up.
“You didn’t have to do that.” He says softly. Cody can feel his trembling hands holding the cloth to Cody’s wound. Cody’s eyes stare into General Kenobi’s though this time it was General Kenobi’s turn to avoid eye contact. Cody could remind the General that his life was worth more than Cody’s, but he didn’t.
“I don’t hate you.” Cody says at last. This time General Kenobi’s eyes meet his. Cody lifts a hand to place on top of the General’s. “Despite how I feel about the Jedi and this war… I don’t hate you.”
Cody almost thought he could see some color return to the General’s face. The General slowly lowers himself back down to rest against Cody’s side. Cody puts an arm around the General keeping him close.
“Have you tried the coms?” Cody asks after a pause of silence.
“Yes, they’re jamming our signal.” The General says with his head on Cody’s shoulder. Cody turns his head to look down at the General’s face. His eyes are getting heavier as he fights off sleep. The light from his headlamp starts to flicker. It’s going to go out soon.
“Get some sleep, General,” Cody says softly. “I’ll take the first watch.”
The light from the headlamp goes out just as he feels the General slip off into sleep. He stays awake for as long as possible but eventually even his exhaustion wins the day.
Bright lights. Everything is bright and warm. At first Cody thinks he’s dead. Then thoughts of Kamino resurface before he realizes he’s on a republic cruiser. He sits up suddenly before wincing at the pain in his face. He pushes the blankets off him before walking over to a mirror. He stares at his reflection. He’s glad he can still see out of his left eye, but he wasn’t sure how to feel about the scars along the left side of his forehead that curved down to his cheekbone. When the doors open Rex gives a big grin.
“Glad to see you made it.” He says giving Cody a pat on the shoulder. Cody winces still feeling sore from his time in the tunnels. He turns, putting his hands on Rex’s shoulders.
“Rex, where’s the General?”
Rex helps Cody get dressed before leading him down the hallway. He was uncomfortably aware of his missing helmet. Probably couldn’t be saved. He’ll have to get a new one. He feels his heart pounding against his chest. Rex hadn’t said what condition the General was in. Cody starts cursing himself for letting the General fall asleep. They should have fought to stay awake. He goes over every possible thing that could have gone wrong before the ship door’s part to reveal the General standing with his back to Cody. Cody is frozen at first before coming to his senses and clearing his throat.
“Ah, Commander Cody,” General Kenobi says while turning around. Cody pauses when he see’s the clone trooper helmet in his hands. It’s almost identical to Cody’s old one except for a new visor attached. The General walks forward. “I thought I’d add a little extra eye protection if that’s alright?”
“Thank you, Sir.” Cody says slowly. He reaches out to takes the helmet. His hands partly cover the General’s. Even through his gloves he could feel his heat. General Kenobi lowers his head slightly.
“I’m sorry about your scar.” He says softly.
“Just makes me look tougher.” Cody snorts with a smirk. The General lets go of the helmet so Cody can hold it under his arm. They smile at each other for a moment longer before the ship doors part as General Skywalker enters.
“Hate to break up this happy reunion but we’re needed on Christophsis.” Skywalker says. Cody frowns at the sound of his voice.
“The work is never done.” General Kenobi sighs. Cody walks at his side as they make their way to the bridge.
“Never is, Sir. Never is.”
112 notes · View notes
teruthecreator · 3 years
Text
sweet surprises
lord forgive me for the cringe i’m about to post. i fully blame this post and this post for planting the seeds of berdley having a crush on kris in my brain. also shouts out to izel for listening to me go insane at 3 AM about this. 
anyways, here’s a thing. 
______________________________________________________________
Excitement is in the air.
Unlike the usual calm monotony of life at school, things recently have been quite...electric. Not because of the portal to the Dark World hidden behind the door of the closet, or the adventures had by a select group of students through the portal in the Librarby a few days ago. No, this isn’t about that.
This is about the Sadie Hawkman’s Dance. The once-a-year phenomenon where the school puts on its best interpretation of a formal dance for the incredibly small number of students who attend class. Students buzz in excitement for the event, preparing their most formal outfits and getting ready to dazzle their friends and fellow classmates with their dramatic entrances into the auditorium.
And, of course, there’s the all important ritual of asking someone to the dance.
There’s already been a few proposals made this week. Jockington rolled into class like a hula hoop and asked Catti to be his “best bro” for the dance, to which she happily agreed. (And by that, I mean she looked up from her phone, smiled, said not a single word, and went back to typing.) Temmie loudly announced to the class that she would be taking her egg, which was somehow...embarrassed that she mentioned it. And, of course, Noelle finally managed to work up enough courage to ask Susie to the dance. It was done in an incredible display of candy canes that spelled out the phrase: “CAN(E) YOU BE MY DATE TO THE DANCE?” Unfortunately, Susie was about halfway through scarfing the display down before she realized what it said. She then began choking on one of the candy canes out of disbelief, which wound her in the nurse for the rest of the day. But, when she could speak again, she very quietly agreed to Noelle’s proposal (and, if you happened to be a fly on the wall in that room, you could hear a tail thump rhythmically against the doctor’s bench as she did so).
Kris was pleased with everything. They were happy to see their friends so happy together. A long time coming, if you asked them. And they’d be just as happy attending the dance solo, since they’ll undoubtedly be dragged along by Susie. They’d never gone to the dance before--never had a reason to, truth be told. But with their newfound friends, they may just enjoy being a wingman for the night.
...Speaking of wingmen, Berdly will probably be going solo as well. Unsurprising, but Kris makes a mental note to ensure the bird will be in attendance. As much as he is kind of a lot sometimes, he’s their friend. And Kris is going to make sure all of their friends are having fun at that dance!
They walk into class thinking of this (surprisingly early, for a change), which is why they almost miss the massive display sitting boldly atop their desk. They freeze the instant it catches their eye and, for a second, they almost believe it isn’t real. Like some leftover thoughts of the Dark World lingering in their vision. But, after wiping their eyes and seeing that it’s still there, they decide to approach and...investigate.
The display is expertly crafted by someone who clearly knows their way around a glue gun. It is a heart-shaped arch that is decorated with a myriad of printed illustrations of Super Smashing Fighters Melee characters, all having cut-outs to hold different bars of chocolate. There are also numerous origami hearts glued around the characters on the arch, in colors spanning across the rainbow. The arch is painted in swirls of blues, pinks, and reds and covered with a border of glitter that sprinkles onto the desk when Kris reaches out to pluck a chocolate bar from its perch. On the desk itself is a big origami heart that says “TO KRIS” in gold calligraphy. It is by far one of the coolest, nicest, cheesiest things Kris has ever seen.
They look up from the display to see if anyone else is seeing this shit, and that’s when it all clicks.
Because sitting at the front of the classroom, fidgeting way more than normal, is Berdly. He keeps interlocking his ankles underneath his desk before unlocking them and kicking the air, turning around every half-second or so to try and catch Kris’s reaction. From the brief moments Kris can see the front of him, they notice he’s not in his usual white collared shirt and black khaki shorts. Instead, his shirt is buttoned all the way up, with a nice blue bowtie tied around his neck. He also traded out his khaki shorts for a pair of dress pants that look to be a tad too long for his legs. He keeps reaching up to smooth out the feathers on his head, which immediately stick back up from stress.
Now, Kris may be a straight B student, but they’re not stupid. Context clues are a very good thing, and all signs point to Berdly as the culprit of this public display of...affection?
Beyond Berdly is Ms. Alphys at her desk, who shoots Kris a look of deep understanding and maybe...guilt? She looks at Berdly for a split second and shrugs her shoulders, indicating he was probably in here long before she was and so she had no way of stopping him from leaving it there.
Kris looks back down at the display and picks up the large origami heart. As they begin to unfold it, they see a sprawling letter written in the same flashy calligraphy. Kris squints at the letters--they’re dyslexic, so everything kind of just looks like spaghetti on paper. Still, they’re able to make out the largely printed question of “WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?” with no issue.
Huh, guess they won’t be going to the dance alone after all…? It’s a little confusing as to why Berdly would want to go with them, though. Like, they’ve hung out a little bit--usually whenever Berdly wanted a “worthy rival” to play video games with, he would come over and Kris would whoop his ass for a few hours. And, of course, there were the recent events in the Cyber World; but Kris is pretty sure them and Susie had thoroughly convinced Noelle and Berdley that that was all a dream. So, why them?
They’re lost in this train of thought for so long that they don’t even notice the other kids enter the room until they suddenly hear:
“Yo, Kris???????? What the heck is this thing????” Susie’s voice doesn’t startle them, but it is loud enough to get them to look up. Susie is standing next to their desk, looking at the display with genuine amazement thinly masked by disgust. She’s also loud enough to basically stop the whole class (who were all muttering amongst themselves about it anyway), which gives Kris only a second to gaze around the room before--
SLAM!
The door to the classroom slams shut, leaving one seat unoccupied.
Berdley’s.
“This thing’s got chocolate on it????” Susie continues to marvel at the display while Kris looks at the door, frowning. They feel...bad. It isn’t Berdley’s fault for trying to fit in with the other kids' proposals; he admitted to feeling like he needs to do more just to stand out enough for people to acknowledge him back in the Dark World. And this thing is really...thoughtful! The characters are all ones Kris typically mains, or ones they know Berdley mains, which means he remembers things about Kris. And the chocolate is a given, but it is nice to be able to stock their personal snack stash with some fancy stuff. Ultimately, it’s very sweet, and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for not saying anything immediately.
They turn and lock eyes with Ms. Alphys, who looks extremely out-of-depth with this situation. She makes a number of gestures from them to the door in a flustered way of saying I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on please help me Kris I know I’m asking a lot of you but I don’t know how to deal with teenage angst I’m like thirty-five. They sigh, standing up and walking past Susie (but not before giving her a stare that warns her if a single chocolate bar is gone that they will be holding that over her until the day she dies) and following Berdly out the door.
It doesn’t take Kris very long to follow the trail of labored breathing to where Berdley is--in the abandoned classroom, hyperventilating as he teeters on a breakdown. Luckily, when Kris opens the door, it seems to put a halt to his spiralling because he just kind of...freezes. Like a deer caught in headlights. Or a Berdley caught in Kris-lights. Kris takes this moment to let the door shut behind them, trapping the two in here. Together.
“U-Uhhhhh, hi--he--Um. H-Hello, K-Kris…” Berdly attempts to put on his usual bravado, but his voice betrays him brutally by squeaking and cracking on every syllable. Kris can’t help the smile that comes to their face.
“Uh, hey,” they reply with a wave. Berdley continues to stand there and stare (almost like he wasn’t expecting Kris to care enough to follow him) before the present circumstances return to his mind and he begins breathing hard again.
“I-I-I-I, uh...I was. Um. J-Just, uh. G-Getting some fresh air! Y-Yes! The classroom can be s-so stuffy sometimes, I’m sure y-you--you, uh...you agree?” Berdley makes a valiant attempt at hiding his panic, which Kris almost takes pity on. But they don’t think the monster will feel any better if they just pretend what happened back there never happened.
“Yeah. I liked the display.” Kris says simply. Berdley stands stock-straight at that, looking even worse for wear in the “being normal and completely cool” department.
“O-Oh??????? That ol’ thing????? I, um--well I just--y-you see, I--uh. Um,” You can really hear the gears in his head turning as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “I-I-I just thought you w-would appreciate the craftsmanship of!!! A t-true artisan, such as myself!!! So, I!!! M-Made it!!! COMPLETELY PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE!!!! I-I would never imply that my intentions w-were anything other than for bro-sies, i--You didn’t read that whole card, did you?”
“I can’t read,” They mean this as a joke, but they can see Berdley seriously consider this for a second too long. “Dude, I’m dsylexic. I can’t really read cursive…” Berdley freezes up once more, which makes Kris realize they haven’t really projected that as loudly as they might’ve thought.
“Oh! Right! How could I forget! That you’re! Dsylexic!” Berdley’s smile is stapled to his face as he begins to rhythmically knock on his head. “And I! Wrote! That! Entire! Note! In! Cursive! Which! You! Can’t! Read!!!” Kris steps forward in an attempt to keep Berdley from bashing his own skull in, but that only makes Berdley more tense, so they take a step back. “I-I just--The note isn’t important! None of it’s important actually can we forget this interaction ever happened okay? Okay yes that’s great have a wonderful day Kris I will be returning home to sitinmyroomandneverreturntothecorporealrealmalrightgoodbyeforeverKris--” He attempts to sidestep around Kris and out the door, but is very easily intercepted.
“Stop.” Kris grabs him by the shoulders, which seems to shut him up for a second. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Berdley gapes at them as his face steadily grows redder, which makes Kris feel as if there’s something on their face. But he quickly shakes it off, going from completely neurotic to...dejected.
“I just…” He starts, trailing off immediately. “You deserve to have a big proposal, same as everyone else. I-I see you in the back of the class, just...watching. And I, uh, felt it was time to...give you the spotlight! But that was silly of me, wasn’t it?” He looks off to the side at the floor, smiling sadly. “After all, who’d want to go to the dance with me…? I-I’m alone every year, standing in the background. Just kind of...taking it all in...and th-thinking about how it’d be...nice to be a part of it. But that’s...not probable. It was just nice to think about taking you to the dance because you’re--well, you’re nice to me, and you’re funny, and you actually listen to me when I’m talking, an-and you’re a good person and an incredible gaming legend...but I shouldn’t have put it all on you in front of everyone...I’m. I’m sorry, Kris.” He won’t make eye contact with the human, but Kris can still see the tears collecting in his eyes.
“Berdley, that’s stupid.” Kris says, which Berdley cringes at, “Why wouldn’t I wanna go with you?” That part is...not what Berdley was expecting. He looks up at Kris, unsure of where to go from here.
“U-Um…? Because of all the previously stated things? Like me being a complete loser who nobody likes?”
“I like you,” Kris replies immediately, leaving Berdley’s feathers sticking straight up as he flusters. “And I like your display. It’s...really sweet.”
“E-Even if you can’t read the note?” Berdley’s voice cracks.
“I mean, I could read the: WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE DANCE part, so, like. Yeah.” Kris shrugs. “Plus, you got me chocolate. Nice chocolate. Nobody...gets me things like that.” They smile, a light dusting of blush across their face. “I’ll go with you.” Berdley’s entire body seizes up for the third time, eyes wide and mouth agape.
“W-W-w-W-w-w-w-w-W-W-W-w-w-w-Wh-Wha-wh-w-w-wha-wha-w-wh-Wh-Wha-wh-Wha-wha-w-w-W-W-W--” Berdley continues to struggle with the word “what” for a solid minute and a half before he’s finally about to manage a: “What?!” Kris can’t help but laugh.
“I said that, Berdley,” at this, they move their grip from his shoulders to his hands, “I will go to the Sadie Hawkman’s dance with you.”
The circuits in Berdley’s brain struggle with this frequency for an extended moment before his face erupts in the giddiest smile Kris has ever seen the bird monster sport. He even begins to jump up and down, taking Kris along with him, as he cackles. It is a surprisingly cute display that Kris finds themselves blushing a bit at. It’s nice to be this...cared about.
“I-I--We have to start thinking of outfits immediately!” Berdley blurts out, returning to their usual demeanor. “I was thinking of some complimentary color schemes on the way to school today which I will be happy to show you at lunchtime. I’m also a master with a sewing machine, so if you are unable to procure an outfit that meets the color requirements, I would be delighted to take your measurements and--w-wait, don’t read into that phrasing, I just m-meant that I could make an outfit for you! B-But I’d need your measurements, and--Oh, goodness, hasn’t class started already, Kris?! We should head back, but--” He looks from the door to Kris and back again a few times before finally settling on something.
“I’lltalktoyouaboutthislaterseeyouinclassKris!!!!!” He says this right before he gives Kris a solitary peck on the cheek before bolting out of the abandoned classroom, leaving Kris blinking at the Berdley-shaped cloud he left behind. Their hand gently grazes the spot on their cheek--luckily not actually pecked by his beak, but more of a quick-kiss kind of peck--and feel their heart skip a beat.
Huh.
That’s...different.
They elect to not dwell on that feeling any longer and head back to class. They have to make sure Susie hasn’t eaten all of the chocolate on that display.
They wouldn’t want to make Berdley go through the trouble of re-proposing  just so they could rightfully claim their other sweet surprise.
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kaylaxwrites · 3 years
Text
Street Kid
Pairing: (platonic!) Frank Castle & Reader Words: 1.9k Request: “hi :) can you do a platonic frank castle imagine where he is in a fight and looses alot of blood and end up passing out in an alley but a street kid (16/17 yo female) stitches him up and saves him and later he runs into him and they develop a father-daughter relationship? thank you so much!” (anon) A/N: I don’t know if this is what you wanted, and my mind blanked half way through when trying to come up with some father/daughter scenarios, so that aspect of it probably isn’t the best. But!! even though requests are technically closed, I’ll also some father/daughter requests for if you have any specific situations/scenarios you wanted to see. Just because I feel really bad that I couldn’t write what I wanted to see so it’s probably not what you wanted to see lol
Warnings: reader has an ambiguous background of being kicked out by her parents and she’s homeless and also somewhat-graphic description of stitching somebody up. but it’s a punisher fic, so you know
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You ducked through the alley, taking the shortcut you always took. You stumbled to a halt when you noticed a body laying on the ground. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, you thought as you inched closer to the man, letting out a breath when you noticed the rise and fall of his chest. You hesitantly leaned over him, toeing him with the edge of your shoe. “Buddy…uh, you okay there?” you asked, nudging him a few more times. It wasn’t until the fifth nudge until he finally gasped awake, wildly swinging at you the instant his eyes opened.
“Woah, woah, woah,” you called, stepping back several feet. “Chill, dude, you’re fine.”
It was a few moments for him to calm his breathing and gather his surroundings. “Who’re you?” he grumbled, words almost slurred.
“Uh…Y/N. I was just walking by and I saw…” You noticed his wide away of injuries then. He was so bruised and bloodied, you weren’t sure where one wound ended and another began. Blood obscured his face so you couldn’t make out any details as to who he might have been. But the skull on the chest was a dead giveaway. The Punisher. “I think you need a hospital.”
“No—no hospitals.” He stumbled to his feet but crashed into a dumpster, unable to find his balance.
“Uh, yes. Yes hospitals.”
“M’fine.”
“Uh-huh. Is there…is there anyone after you? You look like you got the shit beat of you. They won’t be coming back, will they?”
“No. No.”
You sighed. “Glad that’s settled. So if no hospitals, you got anyone I can call? You got friends?”
“Look like I make friends?”
“No.” You looked around and sighed. “Well, I wouldn’t feel like a good Samaritan if I left you all by yourself. You wanna follow me or…?” He huffed something that almost sounded like a laugh, but hesitantly shuffled behind you after you started walking.
You kept pace with him as you navigated to your home. No, house? No…place you slept. The abandoned building that acted as the roof over your head wasn’t much, but it was all you had. After your parents had kicked you out a year and a half ago—and your subsequent emancipation—it was the best spot you could find. The shelters were always overcrowded and no landlord in their right mind would lease to a sixteen-year-old, so you settled. At the very least, you were able to spend money earned from your two fast food jobs on things other than rent. Like food. And a nice sleeping bag. And, useful in instances like this, a well-stocked first aid kit.
You held open the gap in the chain link fence for the man to wince his way through. In any other instance, you’d feel hesitant to let a stranger—a grown man, no less—into what acted as your home, but this was the Punisher you were talking about. Even though he…killed…people, you read enough in the news to know that his moral code—however skewed it was—wouldn’t let him hurt women or kids. As you fell squarely into that category, you figured you were safe.
You kicked open the door to your building and led the Punisher up the stairs to the room where you camped out. You directed him to sit on the dusty table at the center of the room. You pulled out the first aid kit you had, as well as a couple clean towels you had nicked from work. You set those on the table next to the Punisher before pulling the 48-pack of water bottles out from under the table. You wet a towel with one of the bottles and handed it to him. He started cleaning his face until he could finally see clearly through the blood.
“You live here?” he asked after taking in the room fully. You noticed his eyes lingered on the sleeping bed and mat framed by battery-operated string lights in the corner of the room. Then he finally took in your appearance. “Jesus, you’re just a kid.” And your age, apparently.
“I’m eighteen!” you tried to defend yourself. Frank arched an eyebrow, eyes sliding to your stuffed animal still propped up on your pillow. You sighed, looking down. “Sixteen. And a half,” you added after a moment. As if it would help your case.
“Where are your parents?”
You crossed your arms defensively. “It’s a long story.”
“Fair enough.” He looked around the room once more. “You got a mirror I can use?” You nodded and slid a half-shattered mirror from behind the door. He nodded his thanks and stepped over to the mirror, sliding his shirt and vest off with a grimace.
You puttered around while he did whatever he needed to fix himself up and clean himself off. You tried to avoid looking over at him, the blood making your stomach queasy. You were able to ignore him until he caught your attention half an hour later.
“Kid,” he called. “Kid. Hey, kid!”
It was the last one that startled you to attention. You jumped and turned to face him. He was cleaned and stitched up. For the most part. He definitely looked a lot better than when you saw him for the first time. But you still thought he should go to the hospital. Punisher or not.
“I need your help,” he continued.
“How am I supposed to help?” you asked.
He turned to show you a gash on the back side of his ribcage. “Needs stitched. I can’t reach it.”
“And you want me to…” You gulped.
“You got anyone else here to help out?”
“Well…no.”
He gestured you over and then pressed a needle and tweezers in your hands. You eyed the curved suturing needle warily. “I’ve already sterilized everything. I just need you to close it.” He braced himself against the wall with his opposite arm.
“I—I don’t know what to do.”
He pulled your hands so they were against the wound. “You gotta pinch it closed then about half a centimeter from the edge slide the needle in and straight across.”
You followed his directions and gagged at the feeling of the needle sliding through skin. “Oh my god! That is disgusting!”
“Yeah, yeah, keep going.”
You gagged again as you pulled the needle through the opposite edge of skin. “Now what?” you asked, breathing heavily.
“Double knot it and cut it off. And then go every quarter inch or so until the end.”
You did as he said until the entire would was sealed off. You raced to grab a bottle of water to pour over your hands. You never wished more for running water so you could thoroughly wash the blood off your hands—and the memory of feeling the sutures pull against skin. “Please tell me that’s the only one,” you said when your hands were the cleanest they were going to get.
“Yeah, that’s the only one.”
“You do that often?”
He chuckled. “More than I should.” He shrugged his bloody shirt back on, seemingly preparing to leave. “You stay here by yourself?”
“For the most part,” you answered. “I mean, sometimes there’s a few kids who hole up downstairs, but for the most part, it’s just me.”
Frank looked conflicted, as if he wanted to leave but didn’t feel right leaving you here alone. After a few moments, he seemed to make up his mind. “I should probably lie low for a little while. You mind if I stay out in the hallway?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t…I don’t have, like, any extra pillows or anything to give you, though.”
“Trust me, kid, I’ve slept in worse places than that dingey hallway.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I probably should…be getting to bed,” you said. You weren’t anywhere near tired, but you don’t want him to feel like he needed to hang around you any longer. You passed him two water bottles as he stepped outside of the room. “Well, uh, goodnight, Frank.”
He tensed as you said his name. “How do you know my name?”
You almost rolled your eyes. “Uh, it’s not exactly like you’re incognito. The Punisher logo on your vest kind of gave it away.”
“Right. Night, kid.”
“Goodnight.”
You smiled and shut the door, moving to curl into your little bedspace. If you were being completely honest, you felt the safest tonight sleeping here than you’d ever had. Logically, you knew the Punisher was supposed to be some big, scary man, but deep down, you knew no harm would come to you with Frank Castle sitting just outside your door.
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The sunlight slowly woke you the next morning. You squinted into the light that poured in from the broken window above your sleeping bag. You turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. You rose from the makeshift bed, wincing as your joints popped, and made your way to the hallway. You looked down each end, but Frank was gone. It didn’t surprise you that he left at some point in the night, but you couldn’t say you weren’t a little disappointed he wasn’t there. You shuffled back into your room, freezing when you saw what was on the table.
Breakfast.
A hot, steaming breakfast.
You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it earlier, what with the smell now wafting towards your nose. Instantly, your stomach rumbled. You rushed over to the takeout container, eager to find what was inside. A sticky note on top simply read “Thanks, kid,” but you set it aside. Your mouth watered the instant you opened the container.
Pancakes.
This was probably the single most happiest moment of your life. You hadn’t had a hot meal—let alone a hot breakfast—in who knows how long. The platter spread before you seemed like a feast. You dug in happily, savoring every bite until it was gone.
 That was the last you expected to hear from the Punisher. You stitched him up, he bought you breakfast the next day as thanks, that should be it, right?
Turns out Frank Castle was a man of many surprises.
Nearly every single day from that point forward, you would find a takeout container centered on your table. Sometimes, he left you breakfast like that first day—sometimes pancakes, sometimes omelets, but all from the diner a few blocks down the road. Other days, he’d bring you dinner, leaving Chinese takeout containers piled high on the table or a Tupperware container full of homemade spaghetti. You weren’t sure who made the spaghetti—you couldn’t exactly picture Frank in the kitchen—but it was incredible, nonetheless.
Your favorite days were when Frank lingered after dropping the food off, eventually going as far as to sit and eat with you when he could. Those days left you feeling the happiest. Dinners with Frank happened more and more until he offered you the small second bedroom in his rundown apartment. “I’m never gonna use it,” he said, “and I’m not gonna bust you out of jail if you get caught for trespassing.” You eagerly grabbed the opportunity with both hands—you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if that horse would get you out of this rat- and cockroach-infested hellhole. Living in an actual apartment would be a dream.
Thinking back on everything, you weren’t sure when the feeling began, but one day, you realized…you felt like a family. By all means, the relationship you had with Frank Castle was far more familial and paternal than any you’d ever had with your biological family. With each passing day, you couldn’t be happier that you’d stumbled across a half-dead Punisher in the alley that night.
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sometimesiwrite · 3 years
Text
The Way It Is
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Prompt: Fake Dating
Pairing: Lambert & Essi Other Characters: Julian (Jaskier), Eskel/Geralt
Rating: Teen Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings; platonic/queerplatonic dynamics; pressure to engage sexually; coarse language; alcohol/intoxication; modern AU.
Summary: When Essi and Lambert are setup on a blind date, they don’t expect to get along as well as they do. However, when they decide to keep their relationship platonic and non-romantic, they realize they might face some uncomfortable pressure. For the sake of simplicity, they decide to tell people they’re dating, but is it sustainable? 
@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​
Essi fidgeted with the bent corner of her cafe menu, looking around at the various styles of local artworks hanging on the walls. She was early by about ten minutes, but that didn’t stop her from checking the pearlescent dial of her watch every thirty seconds. Finally, the bell above the door tinkled and a man walked in. Essi could tell from the way he was looking around that he was there to meet someone—her. The only other people sitting alone in the cafe were working on laptops and tablets; no one else waiting for a date. And this man was most certainly looking for one. 
He was handsome in a ruffled sort of way, though he’d clearly put in a bit of effort. His black casual dress shirt and slim light-wash jeans fit his lean frame impeccably, and a subtle quantity of mousse was clearly doing its best to tame his short, scruffy brown hair. Even his bristly beard appeared to have been trimmed recently. Though there was nothing particularly remarkable about his clothing, there was something striking about the way he carried himself, a devil-may-care sort of presence that Essi appreciated. For a blind date, she thought, it certainly could be worse. Allegedly, they knew each other, at least based on his abruptly out-of-the-blue text, and the closer she looked, the more her memory of him crystalized. 
A loud ping! emitted from Essi’s phone and the man looked up from his own cellular device, clearly having just texted. 
“Uh, Essi? Essi Daven, right?” He took a step towards her and leaned in, pointing to his phone screen. 
“Yes,” Essi stood to shake his hand, “hi.”
“Nice to see you again. Lambert.”
They sat down awkwardly, both struggling to find the will for smalltalk. 
“So…” Lambert had become keenly interested in a black-and-white digital photograph behind Essi’s shoulder.
“Listen,” Essi could feel the words start to tumble out of her mouth, and it was too late to do anything about it. Lambert raised an eyebrow,  “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to be honest and probably regret it later: I don’t really do this. Dating. I find it strange and uncomfortable and if I’m perfectly honest I think I’d rather die.” She didn’t cringe apologetically, which would have been the expected behaviour to accompany an outpouring of disinterest. Instead she stared at him, wide-eyed, lips slightly pursed as a muscle in her neck twitched, waiting for his response.
Lambert laughed. Genuinely laughed—a joyful release of tension and dread, “Oh, thank Fuck!” Essi blinked in pleasant surprise and watched as Lambert began to relax.
“Excuse me?” Her startlingly blue eyes widened in amusement. 
“No, no, I just mean—I would absolutely and one-hundred percent, without a doubt, rather die in a hole than date,” Lambert slotted the edge of the menu under his fingernails and let his eyes wander a little more freely around the cafe. 
“So then… why?” 
Hm. Direct, frank, amusing lack of filter… the memories were starting to come back from what limited, heavily inebriated, time they’d spent together.
There was something about the straightforwardness of this endearingly odd woman that made Lambert feel infinitely more comfortable. Usually, any kind of interaction with the potential of building mutual interest made him feel like he was playing a game he didn’t know the rules to. The signals, the code words that never meant what they said: having sex on the first date means you’re a slut; not having sex on the third date means you’re a prude; grabbing coffee means this; having dinner means that; if they your arm but don’t invite you up, it means that they’re actually a KGB operative and need to give you the launch codes for a super secret missile...
Fuck that, we have words for a reason. Say what you mean and don’t waste my time. For that reason alone, Essi was already scoring quite well in Lambert’s books. 
He shrugged, “You somehow remembered me from the KM Christmas party almost six months ago, and still asked for my number. I figure that at least deserves a coffee and a conversation.”
Essi was bewildered, “I didn’t ask for your number, you texted me.”
Lambert shook his head, “Impossible. No offense, but I absolutely guarantee you I did not.” He produced their short text exchange and scrolled to the top of their conversation: 
Hi, is this Lambert? From the KM Christmas party? 
You might not remember me, we got talking about 
the political situation in Kashmir after about…
Too many drinks. Eeep! 
Anyway, I’d love to get a coffee sometime, if 
you’re interested. 
Sorry, this is Essi Daven. 
You called me Goldilocks at one point and 
seemed amused XD 
Hope you’re well! 
Essi snatched Lambert’s phone, shocked and slightly outraged as she reached for her own device, opening her thread with Lambert. The text at the top was not from her, but from the man across from her: 
Yeah, hi, this is 
Lambert-from-the-KM-Christmas-party. 
As it happens, I remember you and our 
conversation quite well. Not many folks 
happily get into drunken political discussions
You know what, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a 
coffee. 
Let me know if you’re free in the next couple 
weeks! 
Lambert gestured emphatically at Essi’s phone screen, “In what world is this an acceptable way to ask someone out?! I wouldn’t have said yes to that!”
“I don’t know,” Essi fired back, “It was straightforward! I found it charming, okay? Is that a crime?”
“No, but I have some serious concerns about your taste in men.”
“Like you’re in such a fine position to judge after the hollow, paltry invitation you accepted—which I absolutely did not write, by the way. I want to make that perfectly clear.”
“Alright, alright, cool your jets, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” Lambert narrowed his eyes as he passed Essi’s phone back to her, “You didn't fire the first shot, so who texted me from your phone and cleared the history?”
Essi nibbled the inside of her cheek, “I can think of a few.”
“Okay, next question,” Lambert pocketed his phone, “who added you to my contacts before you texted. Because we did not exchange numbers six months ago, but your name was already there when I received it.”
Essi shrugged, “Who has access to your phone?”
“I dunno. Really just Eskel and Geralt and neither of them would—”
“Geralt.”
“Why him?”
Essi’s bright blue eyes turned steely and murderous, “Julian… They’re working together.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me that Geralt the-last-thing-I-need Rivia and Julian Alfred these-aren't-my-pants Pankratz think we're so helplessly undateable that they decided to secretly set us up?” 
“Eskel doesn’t know me that well; he wouldn’t try to set you up with someone he hadn’t vetted. Who did you talk to first when you got that text from me?”
Lambert’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, they’re working together.”
Essi nodded, a flood of embarrassment warming her cheeks. “Sorry to waste your time. You’re very nice but, um, I should just…” she got up to leave.
“Wh-hey, hold up. I mean, if you wanna go, go, that's fine, but there's something you might want to know first.”
Essi tossed her yellow bangs out of her eyes, “Oh? What's that?”
“This,” Lambert produced an Amex credit card from his breast pocket, “is Geralt's.” The cheeky glint in his eyes was a very convincing argument.
“Fine then. Coffee and a conversation.” 
The coffee was hot and decent, and the conversation meandered through the usual topics of music, movies, and television, but also dipped into deeper waters as they grew more comfortable with each other’s company. Of course, it didn’t hurt that neither of them had any stakes in the outcome of this “date”. It made it easier to be frank and open, which in turn led to them quickly enjoying their time together. So much so that coffee turned into lunch, which turned into a long walk in the pleasant weather, which finally landed them outside Essi’s apartment, just around dinner time. 
“I have to say, this was actually a pleasant encounter,” she said, turning to face him with a characteristic toss of her bangs. 
“Yeah, who’d’ve thought two people forced together by meddling friends would actually find it enjoyable?” 
“In light of that,” Essi squared her shoulders and found Lambert’s hazel-brown eyes, “I think it’s fair to say I want to see you again.”
He cringed regretfully and scratched the back of his head, “Ahh, yeah, so… I don’t know if that’s really--”
“Oh, relax,” Essi smirked with a casual touch to Lambert’s forearm. “I don't mean like that. I just mean--you're interesting and fun and, well I don't have many close friends and I feel like we connected well today.”
“Well…”
“I'll make it even simpler: I absolutely, one-hundred percent, am not interested in dating you.”
“Easy there, you know I love it when people get all straightforward with me.” 
“I mean it, I just want to be friends,” she toyed back, trying her best to look sultry. It kind of worked.
Lambert bit his lower lip in mock arousal, “Mmm, oh yeah...”
She swayed her shoulders forward and back, doing her best to emulate the seductive actresses and models of the 1950s, “I want to Netflix and chill with a documentary about Soviet propaganda.”
Her last comment prompted a playfully stern look from her companion, “Careful now, you’re wading into actual turn-on territory.” 
“You're such a weirdo,” Essi chuckled, giving him an endeared shove. “Seriously, though, would you like to do this again? Friends?” 
He nodded sincerely, “Yeah, I think I'd really like that. Just one problem, though.”
“If we claim not to be interested in each other but keep hanging out we’ll never hear the end of it?” 
“Bingo.” 
Essi hummed thoughtfully and nibbled the inside of her bottom lip, “Well… we could always… pretend?” 
***
“Sounds like you two are hitting it off. I’m glad. I know Essi’s been feeling a little isolated between work and being new to the city.” Geralt closed the fridge with his foot and headed towards the sofa, popcorn in one hand, three beers in the other. “I’ll take my card back, by the way.” 
Lambert reluctantly handed the Amex back in exchange for a beer and perched on the arm of the sofa. “She’s really something. We’re, uh—yeah, hitting it off is a good word.”
And hitting it off, they were. The last ten days since their first “date” had been more enjoyable than all the dates he’d had in the last year combined. Essi was a fantastic companion: sharp, witty, kind, took no bullshit… They had done absolutely nothing but hang out, and no one had pried them for many details about the nature of their relationship. As far as their friend group was concerned, they were simply dating in the way that most adults dated. This also meant more time to themselves without unwanted interruptions (namely Julian barging in with his spare key to gossip about whatever fires were currently alight on twitter). The first night Lambert had been over, it took Julian all of five minutes to “grab something from the fridge” before parting with a knowing wink. 
To her credit and imagination, Essi had expertly fielded her cousin’s initial barrage of questions when she first announced their “involvement.” It wasn’t that she didn’t like her cousin, Essi adored Julian, but she was also the first to admit that the man had no boundaries. What he lacked in that arena, he certainly made up for with opinions, which he was always more than happy to bestow on his younger cousin—usually dating advice, almost always unsolicited. Lambert had a much easier time convincing his side that he and Essi were taking it easy to see where things went. Between Eskel being a consummate gentleman and Geralt having his own Delicate Sensibilities, neither of them had demanded any details. 
“As long as you’re both happy and everything’s healthy, that’s all that matters,” Geralt’s partner reiterated, reaching into the bowl on Geralt’s lap. 
“Jesus, Eskel, you sound like my Nonna.”
“That's no way to talk to your father,” Geralt smirked into his hand of popcorn
“You're no better,” Lambert took a swig from his beer, lips popping as he lowered the bottle. “I swear, you've turned into a couple of mother hens since you two got together. Quit fussing and watch the game.” 
Geralt put his arm around Eskel’s shoulders, “We have gotten a little soft haven’t we?”
Eskel huffed out a laugh, “Probably. Hey, Lambert, don't fuck it up or I'll kick your ass into next week.” 
“Thank you. See? Was that so hard?” 
“Eh,” Eskel shrugged, helping himself to another handful of popcorn, “I stand by my original statement. Geralt agrees.” 
“It's true,” he said between mouthfuls. “Essi’s a good woman. Smart, talented, kind, attractive.” 
Eskel cleared his throat.
“Eskel, she is, it's just a statement of fact it doesn't mean that she doesn’t have other…”
“I know it doesn't but I still think you could bear to be a little more…”
“Funny thing,” Lambert interrupted, “I still can’t figure out how this smart, talented, kind, attractive woman’s number programmed itself into my phone. Because I may have been drunk the night we first met, but I have never in my life forgotten a successful number grab. Fess up, fellas. Who was it?”
Eskel’s eyes widened, “Geralt, you didn’t.”  
“I… may have… helped Julian gain access to Lambert’s phone.”
“Unbelievable. The betrayal,” Lambert shook his head, eyes still on the game. “If only there was some way to square things up…”
“You charged everything to my company card, didn’t you?”
“First two dates and a fresh pair of pants. Thanks, bud.” Geralt accepted a pat on the back as Eskel began gently but sternly berating him.
Lambert shook his head, smirking as he took another swig of beer, leaving the two lovebirds to bicker amongst themselves. His hip pocket buzzed and he checked his phone: Essi. 
Next Wednesday? Pizza and a movie?  Still can't believe you haven't seen  Ocean’s Eleven. 
Yeah, okay, fine. Jeez :P 7:30 my place? I'll provide beverages. 
If by ‘beverages’ you mean watery beer…
Fuck off, I'll get the good stuff. Unless  you prefer Arbor Mist or some shit. 
*gasps* I am offended! (but also it's delicious)
*sigh* do you want me to get you some?
*turtles into hoodie* ...peach or cherry pls? 
Haha okay, fine, I'll get a bottle. Can't promise  I won't judge you forever, though ;) 
It's okay, I deserve it.  g2g, see you tomorrow! xox 
***
Lambert groaned contentedly, massaging his stomach as he sprawled back on his aging brown sofa, long legs resting habitually on the coffee table. The now-empty pizza box lay abandoned on the far edge, accompanied by four empty beer bottles, and a nearly-empty, unfavourably warm Peach Arbor Mist. The toilet flushed and Essi emerged. Her dark gold hair had long ago been pulled into a messy bun, but her indigo skinny jeans had been replaced by soft-looking grey leggings. 
Lambert shook his head in amusement as she settled back next to him on the couch, "I still can't believe you brought your own lounge pants"
"That's because I'm a genius," she quipped, crossing her legs and adjusting the height of her waistband. "Besides, when else will I have the opportunity to actually be comfortable during a date?" 
"You took your bra off, too, didn't you?" Lambert asked without missing a beat, eyes never leaving the screen. 
"Yup!" Essi confirmed, her sparkling blue eyes glinting with joy as she raised her glass to her lips.
The movie continued as the new friends settled into comfortable silence, their food-drowsy, alcohol-fuzzy states lulling them into a new level of comfortability around each other. Legs fell asleep, positions were adjusted, and shoulders leaned on as the two sought maximum comfort for minimum effort. Soon, an arm was around Essi's shoulder as she settled her cheek on a comfortable spot on Lambert's chest. 
"You good?" Lambert asked, only half-irritated at her seemingly endless search for the perfect angle. 
"I'm sorry, I thought I'd found a good spot, but..." A few more adjustments of her head and Lambert couldn't take it anymore. 
"Jesus, woman, here. Get up for a sec."
Essi sat up as Lambert rearranged himself into a sort of semi-recline with one foot on the floor so his other leg could make room for the tiny pain-in-the-ass that was taking up the rest of the couch space. At his invitation, she wriggled up to the crook of his arm and quickly settled in. Lambert hadn't really thought about what they were doing. Not when Essi had harmlessly leaned against his arm; not when their weight settled into each other; not when Lambert had put his arm around her; not even as he was rearranging to get to where they were now. It had all just... happened. Now, though, with Essi lying still, Lambert felt the weight and warmth of her body shifting gently against his, and it dawned on him that this had the potential to be, well, weird.
But the strange thing was, it didn't feel weird. He'd fucking cuddled before, but there was always a sense of holding back, a tension in his body, being on the lookout for signals from the other person to move onto the Next Step. But now, he actually felt comfortable. There wasn't anything that was supposed to happen after this. Nobody was asking anything of him, no one sending signals he could pick up on but never read properly, no sinking feelings of dread as the other person moved in for a kiss that always felt too soon. Essi was just there, breathing, content. And Lambert was relaxed.
The woman half-on top of him gave a twitch as the credits started to roll, and Lambert let out a private laugh, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, show's over." 
Essi inhaled heavily through her nose and lifted herself up, "Hmmm?" 
"Movie's over." 
"Did I fall asleep? I'm sorry!" she sat and rubbed her eyes, taking a sip of water to rinse the stale taste from her mouth. 
"Eh, only a little." Lambert exited Netflix and tossed the remote back on to the table. "Thought you might wanna start heading home before it gets too late." 
Essi nodded in response as she grabbed the pizza box and brought it to the kitchen trash, leaving Lambert to bring the empties. 
"You going to finish this atrocity of a beverage?" Lambert waggled the near-empty wine bottle at Essi as he passed on his way to the sink. She merely scowled and shook her head, letting him pour it down the drain 'where it belonged anyway'.
Essi gathered her things and met Lambert by his front door, checking her pockets for her phone and keys one last time before putting her shoes on. 
"You okay to walk? Want me to come with?" 
It was only 10:30 on a weeknight, and she appreciated the gesture all the same, but it was fine to walk. "Thanks, though. And thank you for tonight. I really needed to get out of the house. I hope, um..." 
She trailed off, not sure how to ask. She didn't have the same physical boundaries that most others seemed to have. She was affectionate—often overly so, and it had led to more than a few misunderstandings in the past. She didn't want Lambert to feel as though she had ulterior motives when the simple fact of the matter was that she hadn't really been thinking. Between the instant relief of not actually being on a date and Lambert's easy manner all evening, she'd forgotten that most friendships didn’t generally involve that much physical contact. Would Lambert be confused now? Thinking they were onto something more than friendship? Had he been wanting more? Had she pushed past a point of no return and doomed their friendship?
She inhaled, "Were you comfortable tonight?" 
For a split second, Lambert flailed, wondering whether he’d made her uncomfortable. Fuck, she'd seemed comfortable, if anything it felt like he’d been following her lead but maybe...
"I—yeah. That was, I enjoyed that. Were... were you not—?" 
Essi smiled and Lambert relaxed again, "No, I was. I wanted to ask in case, that's all. Boundaries and all that. I'll text you when I'm home." 
Lambert opened the door and waved her off toward the elevator, "'Kay. 'Night!" 
The door clicked shut. 
Okay, alright. Fine. Did they cuddle? Yes. Did he enjoy it? Fuck yes. He absolutely didn’t care what anyone might think about how he chose to enjoy his time with other people. However, this didn’t stop him from acknowledging that he was in uncharted friendship territory. More than anything, he was worried about how Essi really felt. Of course, she had no reason not to be honest with him. But the last thing he wanted to do was play fast and loose with someone’s emotions, especially not a friend, and definitely not one as close as Essi. Time would tell. As Lambert’s head hit the pillow, the memory of her warmth and weight settled over him again, and he slept soundly for the first time in months.
***
“Yes Poppet, but have you slept together yet? Honestly, you’ve been dating for almost three weeks now, what could you possibly be waiting for?” 
Oh, I don’t know, hell to freeze over? You to mind your own business? Whichever comes first… 
“I mean, you clearly adore one another, I’ve never seen you happier. What’s there to lose?’”
Essi scoffed. 
Julian placed his hands on her shoulders, “I know it’s been a while for you, but I think you can afford to let yourself go a little, have some fun, hm? Besides, it’s better to find out sooner rather than later if you’re sexually incompatible.”
She took a deep breath, “That’s a very good point, Julian, I’ll think about that.” The dating act was starting to wear a little thin, but it was worth not having to explain to anyone that they weren’t doing exactly what it looked like they were doing. 
Julian took time to give his cousin a scrutinizing look, “Well, by the look of things it won’t be long anyway. If you spend all of your time together as tangled up as you were the other night when I came over, it’ll happen sooner rather than later. Just trust your gut, and when in doubt, a little hint never goes awry.”
Needless to say, Essi more or less ignored her cousin’s advice.
As the weeks stretched on, it became evident that they were quickly becoming what most people would consider to be more than friends. The first time they pulled the covers back and climbed into bed, each on their half of the mattress, they were aware that yet another boundary of friendship had been pushed a little farther into the grey zone. But, they woke up the next morning feeling happy, content, and refreshed, and surely there was nothing wrong with two people sharing a comfortable bed. Essi had woken up with crust in her eyes and her nightgown bunched around her waist. Lambert had woken up with morning wood and his hair a mess. Neither of them cared. People wake up in the morning, big deal. 
Still, it didn’t stop the questioning that oscillated in the background of Lambert’s mind. Was he unknowingly leading Essi on by allowing her so much closeness without a clearly defined relationship? She’d made her own disinterest clear enough on their first “date”,  but feelings change over time. What she’d told him three weeks ago might not be true anymore… 
And then there was that soft warm tingle in the middle of his chest every time she lay her head in his lap, every time he ran his fingers through her hair. He knew he wasn't in love. Not that he was an expert, but what was all that "when you know, you know" bullshit if he couldn’t trust his own feelings? He loved her, sure, but more like a... not a sister, that would be weird. He didn't know what like. Whatever. Fuck it. Eskel had said it best three weeks ago: “As long as you're happy and everything’s healthy, that’s all that matters.” Yeah, sure. We’ll stick with that.
As far as Lambert and Essi were concerned, it was what it was, and whatever it was was working… wasn’t it?
***
"Fuckin' finally!" 
The door to Essi's apartment clicked closed as the tenant wilted against it, emitting an exhausted groan, "Two. Hours. It took me two hours to get home!" She toed off her penny loafers and abandoned her purse and jacket in a pile by the front door, ignoring the hook three inches to her left. She flopped heavily onto her living room carpet. 
"I see you found my spare key," she added, not at all surprised that Lambert had managed to let himself in. 
"Yeah, you should probably put that in a less obvious spot," he answered, crossing to the door to hang her things up. "So, I see it's a lying on the floor kind of evening. Can I interest you in a drink to start? Vodka pairs well with the general vibe of Done-With-This-Shit, or we also have tequila if you feel like shouting out the window after a couple shots. Alternatively, there's gin if you want to cry later." 
Essi smiled with her eyes closed, feeling her body slowly relaxing into the spongy throw rug underneath her, "You know me so well." 
"Vodka?" 
"Vodka. Euch, I need to vacuum!," Essi peeled herself to a seated position as clinks and clatters began in the kitchen. She hopped in the shower to rinse the day off, and after a few minutes, there was a knock on the bathroom door. 
"Yeeees?" she called, playfully. 
"Drink delivery!" Lambert hollered back, "you want this now or later?" 
"Why are you so good to me?" 
There was a draught of cool air as Lambert opened the bathroom door, "Because you only marginally annoy me. Here," he passed his hand between the shower wall and the opaque fish-scale-patterned curtain. "What's on the docket for tonight?" 
Essi groaned, "I don't know, I'm sorry. I used all my brain cells trying not to murder people on the streetcar." 
"Okay," Lambert sat on the lidded toilet, "here's the thing. I kinda maybe figured that might be the case so I kinda maybe picked up a few things to make dinner." 
A shampoo-piled head poked out from behind the curtain, "You're kidding." 
"Nuh-uh." 
"I love you." 
Lambert chuckled, "Yeah, you're alright. Come on, hurry up, this bathroom's a fuckin’ sauna, and I don’t want the croutons to get soggy." Essi burbled an answer about conditioner and almost done, and Lambert took that as his cue to leave.
Dinner was simple: pan fried Salmon with crispy skin (delicate and buttery on the inside); wax beans in butter (tender and not overcooked); grilled brussels sprouts (just beginning to brown on the edges); and a fresh caesar salad. Everything done to perfection. Full, content, and ready to take their relaxation to the next step they settled themselves on Essi’s blue-grey sectional to begin the arduous task of deciding what to watch. 
This was proving particularly difficult with the addition of Essi's caveat that whatever they chose not be "too plot-heavy" which so far had included Masterchef, an interior design show, and program about shepherding in the Orkneys. 
"Sweetheart, you gotta give me some slack here. I thought I was on track with the sheep!" 
"I know, I'm sorry!" Essi muffled into his shirt sleeve. "I do like animals..." She gasped loudly. "BLUE PLANET."
Lambert stopped the endless scrolling and pushed play as the soothing voice of David Attenborough filled the small living room.
"Hey! Why'd you pause it?" 
Lambert was standing up, "If we're going to do this, then we're doing it right. Hang on." 
Essi slumped on the sofa as the microwave kicked on. In a few minutes, there was popcorn in their laps and half a bottle of vodka on the table with an ice bucket and lemon wedges in a bowl. Lambert read off his phone screen.
"We will take a drink when: 
-David says 'Extraordinary' -David uses a clear understatement such as 'But then again, living in an active volcano is not without its risks' -An animal is being eaten -An animal is mating -There is sped up footage of a plant growing."
"Oh no," Essi lamented, chewing her popcorn ungracefully, "I'm going to get so drunk." 
"You got it, Goldilocks. Fill up."
And with that, they were off, taking it slow with their vodka twists, but nonetheless feeling the warm buzz start to tingle under their skin. The box of microwave popcorn was empty by halfway through, and the remains of Essi's exhaustion had almost dispersed entirely.
"Ooh! Understatement! Drink!!" 
By ten o’clock, pink-cheeked and feeling boisterous, they had finished with their favourite parts of Blue Planet, or at least the ones they had patience for, and had moved on to Planet Earth II.
“Holy fuck, that’s a lot of snakes—Go, you little fucker! Go!”
The drama on the screen had caused the two to separate from one another while Lambert invested himself in the success of the small lizard. Once the baby Galapagos Iguana had made it to safety, they were once again able to recline without Essi risking an elbow to the face.
She bundled against him, scooting farther between his legs where he leaned in the corner of the sectional. He gathered her hair and draped it over her left shoulder so it wouldn't get caught in his buttons—they'd learned that the hard way. It was still damp, cool to the touch, and smelled like verbena sea salt shampoo. He felt a pulse of affection ripple through him as her weight resettled. He loved that feeling. It had taken some time to get used to it. But now it was high on his list of favourite things. He was happy. And it was healthy. And that really was all that mattered. 
Right?
Eskel’s words turned themselves around again in his mind as he wrapped his arm around the front of Essi’s shoulders. He let himself indulge in the texture of her cotton knit nightshirt under his fingers. He relished in the peace of mind at being able to just be there with someone who meant something to him and made absolutely no demands. He let himself relax. 
Essi felt a kiss land on the top of her head with a playful, "Muwah!" 
She giggled quietly, "Thank you!" Then, upon further thought… Did he want to kiss her? Her mind did a double take as she tried to get on top of the ball.  
It wasn’t impossible. They were close after all, and she wasn’t opposed to the idea. She’d recently found herself in a balancing act of realizing she could, in theory, have a deeper kind of feeling for Lambert. Only if, for whatever reason, it turned out he felt the same way. These weren’t the helpless uncontrollable feelings of ride-or-die infatuation; they were malleable, translatable, general feelings of affection and fondness that belonged in any number of different relationships and dynamics. 
No sense risking it, she thought. They'd found a liminal space of comfort and safety that she'd never experienced with anyone else before, and if the options were between being a little confused and ruining everything, the choice was an easy one. Then again, if Lambert was developing feelings for her, she didn’t want to miss an opportunity. Shit. Her cheeks burned as she felt the question rise closer to her lips. 
"Lambert?" she sat up abruptly and turned to her friend who was still moulded into the corner of the couch, watching the mating rituals of exotic birds with bewildered skepticism. 
He jolted at Essi’s sudden movement, "Hello, yes." 
Her bright blue eyes were now slightly unfocused, "Do you—? Nevermind." She lay back against him, suddenly skittish..
"Mm, nah, try again," he said, sluggishly. "What’s up, buttercup?" 
She swayed a little when she sat up, "Are you happy with what we are?"
Lambert blinked, caught slightly off-guard. The question was easy enough to answer, "Yeah! I mean I don’t know what the fuck we are, but I’m feeling pretty good about it. Shit, why? Are you not? I can be less… whatever. Or… more?" It wasn’t like he was repulsed by the idea of anything else happening between them—in theory it was a possibility. In practice, however...
Essi put an emphatic hand on Lambert’s knee, her glassy eyes going wide, "Do you want more?" 
"What? No! I dunno, I—maybe. I haven’t really thought about it. I mean…” Lambert searched Essi’s face for any clue that might help him know how to proceed, “I don’t not want anything else. Fuck, I don’t know! I’m used to doing things the other way around. You know the drill: uncomfortable date, smoosh faces together, have sex, hope feelings fall out. Lather-rinse-repeat. I dunno, do we have to… But what if we try something and...? I don’t wanna lose this." 
Essi leaned in close and whispered, “I have an idea.”
"Why do I feel like I'm going to regret this?" 
"We should kiss."
Lambert nearly swallowed an ice cube, "What?!"
"Just once. Quickly. Just... in case." 
"You want me, Lambert, to kiss you, Essi Daven, on the lips."
She nodded sincerely, "For science."
There was a brief pause during which Essi felt the beginnings of panic brewing in her stomach, but by the time she'd finished grappling with potential consequences, Lambert was filling their glasses. 
"Alright. Fine. My friend wants me to kiss her for science? Fuck it. I'll drink to that." 
They downed their drinks and squared up, knee to knee on the edge of the sofa as they each prepared for their best form—or as good as they could offer given the circumstances. They counted down, 3-2-1...
The kiss was quick, over as soon as it had begun, and both friends pulled away with questioning looks. Inconclusive. They tried again for a little longer, still returning with the same quizzical expressions. They went in for a third time, committing more thoroughly, and for a brief moment it seemed they might have found the semblance of a spark. But it didn’t build. It felt… fine? But no different than if they were lying together on the sofa. It was just another thing they were doing. They each tried to find the right word for what they were feeling, but were soon distracted by the oddness of it all.   
Essi started to giggle. Less than a second later, Lambert joined her, and they both pulled away, thoroughly satisfied that their experiment had yielded a strong No on the subject of More. There was a dull thud as Essi slid from the couch and onto the floor, still holding her drink in one hand and laughing hysterically. 
Lambert sighed and shook his head, "I think it’s time we got you to bed."
Headaches and dry mouths greeted the two friends the next morning when they blinked awake. Essi’s hair was a cotton-candy mess, having still been slightly damp when Lambert put her to bed. The brunet himself didn’t look much different from his usual scruffy state as he gathered Essi up in an armful of duvet and squeezed tight.
“Gods, Lambert, I still need to breathe,” Essi chuckled, pressing her back into his chest. 
“You’ll get over it,” he teased and self-indulgently nuzzled even closer. “You feeling alright? I mean, aside from the hangover. About last night?” 
“Oh no,” Essi groaned, “I’m so sorry, Lambert. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just—you kissed my head and then that got me wondering about whether you might want something else, and then I didn’t really know what was happening and—” 
“Hey, easy on the rambling, okay, I’m running on limited brain cells, here. Look,” Lambert sat up to find those big blue eyes, now shining brightly, “I have no idea what the fuck this is that we’ve got going on, but I like it fine just the way it is.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And we can keep talking about that. Just, you know, maybe next time something’s on your mind, don’t wait ‘til we’re wasted at 2am?”
“Okay, deal. Can we go get bacon now?”
Lambert chuckled, “Yeah, alright, fine. Make me put pants on, I see how it is.”
Their conversation continued over strong coffee and eggs benedicts. Between their check-in that morning and everything that had happened the previous night, it was well-established that they were perfectly happy where they were. Rather, the main topic of conversation was their growing desire to level with their friends about the nature of their relationship. Eskel and Geralt, they both agreed, would be the easiest—Lambert could tell them that evening. Julian and Essi’s friends on the other hand would be a little more difficult. 
Telling Julian together would be best, Essi thought. He was bound to have questions, and if both she and Lambert were there to answer them definitively and explain that no, they didn’t have secret feelings for one another; and yes, they really were just friends and not at all interested in exploring the relationship further thank you very much. Exactly when this discussion with Julian would occur still wasn’t clear. Realistically, they could pick any time, but they decided to wait until Lambert could tell the Old Men. At least then they were assured some less invasive support. 
Their reaction was easy enough to predict: Eskel reassuringly repeated his standby “As long as you’re both happy with things…” and twirled a forkful of pasta; Geralt tilted his head thoughtfully and said, “That sounds very nice. I’m happy for you.” Lambert had expected mild disapproval, concern that they were deviating too far from the norm and into a complex dynamic that would be too messy to manage. Instead, Geralt simply said it ‘sounded very nice.’ Lambert smiled into the open refrigerator on his way to get a beer. 
The following weekend was Julian’s birthday, and, as per their annual tradition, the group all gathered on Friday evening at the birthday boy’s favourite restaurant—Vegelbud’s. The two decided to tell him the week after his birthday so as not to detract from his Big 3-0. Just one more week, and it would all be in the open. Easy breasy.
The afternoon of the dinner, Eskel and Geralt received a group text: Haven’t told Julian the details yet. Keep the beans to yourselves please (I’m looking at you, @Eskel). 
“Why me?” Eskel turned to Geralt over his paperwork, looking a little hurt. 
Geralt chuckled, “You have a slight tendency to overshare when you want to be supportive.”
“I do?” He turned on the bar stool to follow his partner on the way upstairs.
“It’s not a bad thing, but…” Geralt sighed, “Lambert has always needed to feel in control of situations like this. He doesn’t want one of us bringing this up before he’s ready to talk about it, especially in a public place, you know how he gets when he feels cornered. And Julian is Essi’s cousin…”
Eskel raised a hand, “You’re right, you’re right. All points taken. Are you showering?”
Geralt smirked as he headed for the stairs, “Come on then.” 
Four hours later and halfway through dinner, everything had gone swimmingly. The food had been expectedly delicious, the company and conversation excellent, and so far no one had felt the need to bring up Essi and Lambert’s relationship on any level. That is until Julian got a few drinks under his belt, and decided it was time to document the occasion. Geralt and Eskel were the first victims. 
“Aww just look at you two! So in love, so vivacious and full of adoration,” Julian held up his phone as Geralt touched the side of his head to Eskel’s. Beep-Chk! A perfect image of a happy couple was captured and posted to Instagram (#julianturns30 #dinneratvagelbuds #dinnerout #cutiesofinstagram #favoriteotp #gaycouplesofinstagram #livelaughlove…). There were a few more photos of the three of them together, the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake with the candle in it, a group shot taken by the waiter. It was all so close to being over, Essi could practically taste the refuge of the streetcar. 
"Come on, lovebirds, show us a smooch!" Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Essi’s stomach lurched and she felt her cheeks start to warm. Lambert’s hand landed gently on her knee under the table, his fingers pressing firmly into her leg as she desperately tried to think of something to say. 
"Oh, um..." 
Across the table, Geralt and Eskel shared a wordless communication: de-escalate, distract, redirect.
“You’ll want to eat that cheesecake before it gets warm” Geralt offered. “I hear it’s so light it’ll disintegrate in a heartbeat.” Eskel nodded in encouragement, taking a bite of his own. 
“I know, I know,” Julian shrugged, “Just a quick one. Say Cheese!”
"Not right now, Julian," Essi tilted her head, her eyes flashing a little. 
"Oh come on, Poppet! I know you don't like PDA, it's just one little picture--"
“Don’t call me Poppet.”
Eskel cleared his throat loudly, "Doesn't seem they're that keen on it. Maybe let's try for one another time." 
"It's past your one-month-a-versary, let everyone see how in love you are." 
"Julian," Geralt growled, "leave it." 
Julian covered his mouth in alarm, "I’m so sorry, have you not used that word yet? I didn’t mean anything by it, I just want the world to see how happy my beautiful cousin is!" 
“Really Julian, it’s not necessary we—” Essi’s fingernails were starting to dig into Lambert’s palm from the sheer effort of maintaining composure. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or disappear, and with neither of those being an option, it seemed the only possible escape was for them to kiss. They’d done it before. No big deal. It would feel off, but they’d just go back to her place and drink about it after. 
“Essi, what’s the matter with you, it’s just one little picture, and we all know you’re not camera-shy. On three, ready? One, two…”
"For fuck's sake we're not dating!" 
The table all silently turned their attention to Essi whose cheeks had been turning progressively redder. 
“What?” Her cousin laughed incredulously. 
“We’re not a couple, Julian. We’re friends. We have been from the beginning, but we didn’t want to tell you because we knew you wouldn’t fucking leave us alone until you could boast about having set us up.”
Lambert shared a brief look with Eskel before lowering his eyes to the tablecloth, his hand still firmly clutched in Essi’s. 
Julian gaped, “So, it was all… the cuddling, the laughing, that time I came over and you were asleep on the couch, that was all… a ruse?” 
“No, Julian, that was real. I told you, we’re friends.”
“That’s not friends! Since when have friends watched a movie half-on-top of each other?” 
“Two people can enjoy each other's company lying flat, Julian,” Eskel’s rich voice interjected across the table and the discussion ground to a halt. 
Geralt shrugged with his tea at his lips, “It is the twenty-first century after all.”
Julian’s cornflower blue eyes flitted back and forth between the two friends, utterly bewildered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well what with your complete and utter invasion of privacy for the sake of hooking us up, we didn’t necessarily trust you to believe us,” Essi answered curtly, her hand shaking slightly. 
“Poppet, you could have just told me—”
“Stop. Calling me that. And I did tell you, Julian!” she exploded. “I told you the first day I moved here. The first. Day. I said, ‘Julian, I think I want to take a break from dating until I’ve been settled for a year.’ And what did you do? Conspired with my well-meaning former mentor to hook me up with someone I had one good conversation with at a Christmas party. And do you know what? We are happy. But we’re happy in our own way. And maybe our boundaries with each other seem a little strange to you, but we’re not fooling ourselves. We don’t want to kiss each other, we don’t want to have sex, and we don’t want a relationship. And even though it’s absolutely none of your damn business, I’ll tell you anyway: we’ve talked about it. All of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t think I want to be here anymore.” 
The chair legs scraped against the floor of the restaurant as Essi stood to leave, throwing her purse over her shoulder as she went. Lambert looked hesitantly around the table, “I should probably, you know…” He gestured after Essi with his thumb. Eskel gave Lambert the go ahead and he quickly stood to follow his friend out of the restaurant, leaving a very stunned Julian with the other two. He found her perched on the parking barrier in the small lot to the left of the front doors. He called to her and she looked up. Eyes shining, mascara running... 
“Ah shit, you know I’m no good with this kind of thing.” 
“I’m sorry, Lambert, I just—” she blew her nose, “—he just wouldn’t stop and I didn’t know what to do or say, and it all just came pouring out. I didn’t want it to. The whole time I was begging myself to stop, but I just couldn’t, it’s been bottled up for so long and-and—but it’s his birthday, and—oh, he must feel so awful! I didn’t want to make him feel bad, but—and with Eskel and Geralt there too! They must think I’m horrible! I’m so sorry, Lambert, I didn’t want it to be like this, I wanted to have him over and sit him down and be patient, and instead I’ve just made a complete mess of things. And on his birthday! It’s his birthday, oh God, this is the worst thing I could have done.” Essi choked back bitter tears as she tried desperately to stem the flow with her soggy tissue, “Are you upset with me, Lambert? If you are, I understand. Maybe we should take a break of some kind, you know. Not see each other for a while and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it right there. Look, I’m probably not going to say any of the right stuff here, but I am absolutely not upset with you. You got that? And for what it’s worth, I don’t think us taking a break from spending time together is going to do anything. Unless you’re looking to punish yourself by taking away a nice thing which, okay. But the fact that you’re willing to ditch me instead of Arbor Mist says something about our friendship I’m not too pleased with.” 
Essi turned her wide, pleading, bloodshot eyes to Lambert who cracked a smile, “Jesus, I’m kidding! You adorable fucking mess, c’mere.” He pulled his petite friend into a hug and rested his chin on the top of her head until she quieted down. Neither of them was quite sure how much time had gone by, but Essi found herself wishing it had been long enough for everyone to have gone home so she didn’t have to face whatever aftermath she’d left behind. 
Meanwhile, Eskel and Geralt had settled the bill and offered to give Julian a lift back to their place for a night cap, not wanting to leave the evening on such an unsettled note. Essi needed space, and whatever company she needed, Lambert was clearly capable of providing. It was for the best, they suggested, and dissuaded Julian from trying to call her. 
“Best to sleep on things,” Geralt said, tucking his card back into his wallet and giving the waiter a nod in gratitude. “We can meet for coffee this weekend and sort this out. For now, just let her cool down.” 
Eskel clapped Julian encouragingly on the shoulder as they made their way into the damp summer night air. As they turned into the parking lot, they came face-to-face with Essi and Lambert who had clearly just turned to come back inside. Both cousins looked like they had seen better days: Essi’s eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks blotchy and streaked with inky makeup stains; Julian was perhaps less dishevelled, but the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, his boyish features now dejectedly weighted down with remorse and hurt. 
“Juian, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” 
Essi’s cousin raised his hand, “Don’t. Please don’t. Essi, I am so, so sorry. I never meant to push you like that, I didn't realize... you both have been so happy this last month and—"
"It's okay, really, we can talk about this all another time. I'm just so sorry I ruined your birthday. We wanted to sit down with you and talk properly but..." Essi's tears welled up again, and Julian smiled weakly. 
"But we both did what we always do?"
She sniffed, nodding emphatically with a tearful, "Yeah.” Julian pulled his cousin into a fond embrace while the other three clumped together to watch the reconciliation. 
“Oh! Here,” Essi reached into her purse and pulled out a small, neatly-wrapped box. “Happy birthday!” 
Julian opened his gift without a second thought, his face brightening instantly. The box contained a set of premium ultra-light guitar strings and a pair of concert tickets. The perfect gift. Overwhelmed with gratitude, and the atmosphere having been recovered, Julian suggested they all attend brunch together that Sunday morning, his treat by way of apology. Geralt offered to split the bill as a peace offering for his part in the initial setup, and the five made a date. 
A fresh start, a promise of spending time together with fewer secrets and, Julian conceded, a few more boundaries. 
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four-rabbit · 3 years
Text
Game Night
I don’t really know what this is, I’m just glad I was finally able to finish a sanders sides’ fanfic for the first time. 
This fanfic was born from the last video, obviously, and the realization that the creativity twins canonically feel physical pain when their ideas are desregard or their function is “offended” let’s say, which I had to exagerate and turn int angst, of course, so enjoy!
Summary: Remus get sick so frequently that those nights have became his idea of a sleepover. 
Ship: platonic dukeceit. Or romantic. You can interpret it however you want
Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders and Janus Sanders 
Warnings: swearing, kinda grapphic descriptions of pain and sickness, mentions to vomit. Also maybe some umsympathetic Virgil? I don’t see it like that, but I guess it depends on how you interpret it. 
Word Count: 1729
Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language
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If Remus was real, he would be dead. 
And if snakes could demonstrate worry, they would make exactly the same expression that Janus had after looking at the thermometer. 
"How do you manage to get so bad so quickly?" 
"What can I say, being bad is the only thing I'm good at" Remus joked, the words scratching his throat as an unwanted cough came with them. Janus rolled his eyes, trying to seem calm. And falling. 
"Any idea what was the cause this time?" Remus' focus went down to the old and familiar sheet, which he fiddled with, avoiding the question. 
"How hot am I?" He vaguely pointed to the thermometer. 
"You have a 113°F fever" 
"Well, fuck. That's a new record" he touched his own forehead, smiling almost maniacally right after "Shit. How long do you think it takes until my brain melts? 
"Bold of you to assume it hadn't already" Virgil was the one to answer, entering the room with a bowl of hot soup in his hands. 
"Wow Virgil, that was fast " Janus lied, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"
"I was trying to actually cook something real for once"
"Please don't tell me your burned the kitchen" the half-snake child replied, with some amount of actual fear behind the dramatic hand to his chest and horrified expression. 
"Ha ha" pause "...not on purpose" Virgil replied, looking away. 
 "Yeah, that's my job!"
"Remus, eat your soup, the grownups are talking" the embodiment of Fear interrupted jokingly, even though any of them was older then twelve. Then he turned to Janus again, already guessing what he was going to say "but... it's fine now. I took care of it" Janus made a mental note to go take a look at the damage as fast as possible. They could all be kids, but Janus knew very well he was the only responsible there. 
"I don't like it...!" Creativity replied, sounding like a child who doesn't want to eat salad. Janus sighed as his thoughts were interrupted, conjuring a bottle of perfume and poured it in the meal. 
"Now eat" and so he did. Virgil raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling, trying not to be so worried. Or at least not demonstrate it. After so many times, he should be used to it, but... well, he was Fear. It was his job to keep track of the worst case scenarios.
"Did he get better?"
"On the contrary. The fever is higher than ever"
"And I also feel like someone ripped my bones out of my skin and then put them back, but like... in the wrong way" Remus added, spilling hot soup all over the sheet and his clothes by trying to communicate with his mouth full. 
"So it's one of those nights" Virgil mumbled.
"I'm afraid so" 
Remus finished his soup smiling like there was no tomorrow, opening his arms despite how much that simple gesture hurted "Game night while I'm dying!" Janus smiled, with more sadness in his eyes than anything else. 
"I'll get the monopoly"
•••
"I won"
"No, you did fucking not" Remus immediately answered, not even looking away from his cards.
"You can see for yourself" Janus showed his game, which clearly meant a victory, indeed. Remus tossed his cards on the sheet like it was their fault. He was so fucking close!
"You cheated" Virgil said sharply, as if it was an undeniable fact. 
"Do you have any proof? Janus challenged, not losing a beat or his mischievous smile.
"Yeah. It's the only thing you know how to do" the teenager replied, his tone as cold as a lake in the winter. Janus looked down before he could help himself. Couldn't he keep it down for at least one night? The night Remus needed both of them?
The cards caught fire. It was an accident, but Remus decided to go with that, jumping out of the sheets, trying to ignore the terrible twist that movement gave to his stomach. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he threw up. At least that way these two would stop fucking fighting. 
"What the hell?!" Virgil exclaimed, tossing his game away like it was burning. Which was the case, indeed.
"Let's watch a horror movie!" Well, he got their attention. 
"Did you need to burn things before saying that?!" Virgil screamed. He was standing and seemed even more distressed.This was a mistake, Janus realized. It was foolish to think they could ignore their differences for the sake of Remus. 
"It's more fun this way! What can it be? One of the classics? Some shitty obscure one?" He kept trying, getting out of bed and walking toward Virgil, who walked away from him. Janus immediately got up too, already anticipating the disaster that situation could turn to. A worst one. Because it was already a disaster. 
"Please, control yourselves"
"I'm controlled! I'm not the one burning things" Virgil replied, the trace of the tempestuous tongue in his voice proving that he was anything but in control. 
"Remus, please. Apologize for burning the cards"
"It's just some stupid paper!
"Now"
"It was a fucking accident"
"We all know it wasn't" Janus almost, almost told Virgil to shut up after that. But he didn't need to make things worse than they already were.
"It was a fucking accident" his voice started getting threatened, his eyes started shining with a red danger "But you know what wouldn't be a fucking accident? if I..." his vision went black, a headache that felt like someone had opened his skull being everything that existed and then not even that. 
Anxiety got out of the room immediately after his friend fainted, keeping his gaze to the ground, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stand any amount of time alone with Deceit. 
•••
   Remus wished he was real, so he would be dead. 
   He felt like someone had catched his body on fire, then hit his head with an axe, then exchanged his blood for poison and his bones with knives. 
   "I knew you were stupid, but not stupid enough to try and suggest an idea for Thomas. On your own. After terrorizing him the whole night. Literally hours after recovering from your last..." Janus looked down at his friend, in one of the only moments he didn't try to hide his emotions. Fear. Somebody had to fill the vacancy now that Virgil is gone, I suppose. 
   "It was..." He coughed blood. "A good idea"
   "Oh yeah, I'm sure he thought the same" Janus rolled his eyes. Remus tried to say that he would be fine, but his throat still hurt from the acid of his stomach and the scratching of his coughs. 
   "I told you to not do anything too dangerous. We are..." he looked down to his gloves which, as he knew, covered up for the scales that apparently had decided that half of his face was not punishment enough. "In a delicate situation, now that..."
   "The emo is gone. I know" Remus completed, his voice not much more than a whisper. 
   "Oh please, no. We are better off without him haunting us all day. If he prefers to deal with them, the only thing I feel is pity" anyone else would have believed that. Remus knew it was bullshit the second those words left his mouth. But he didn't say that. Mostly because he was feeling nauseous again and he learned that, apparently, people don't like if you throw up while trying to talk to them. 
   Janus stayed in silence for a couple more seconds, then something changed in his eyes and he got up.
   "Well, if you need me, I'll be reading" said, but before he could go too far, Remus grabbed the bottom of his coat, deciding to make use of his positions of creativity, as with a snap of his fingers green words appeared in the air:
   "It's game night, not a fucking book club"
   "I don't think you're able to play games right now"
   "I've never been better in my entire fucking life"
   The words glitched as his consciousness stumbled. 
   "Remus"
   "You've been reading, studying, planning, whatever every fucking time we were together" he finally was able to find his voice again "Is it me, Virgil, or just you being a dick? 
   "You need to rest"
   "I'm gonna vomit on your shoes"
   Janus sighed, sitting again on the bed. 
   "What do you propose?"
   "Truth or dare" Janus never plays truth or dare. The two of them, Virgil and Remus, would play it at any given opportunity, on the other hand. 
   "Don't test me"
   Floating words again: "I'm gonna take it easy"
   "You never take it easy."
   Remus frowned. 
   "Ok" the half-snake man sighed "let's find a compromise: I can play Never Have I Ever" 
   Remus smiled diabolically. So they had a deal. 
•••
   "Finally! It's been so long since our last sleepover!"
   "This is anything but a sleepover" Janus replied, not looking away from his book.
   "Yes it is! We're sleeping together not in a sexual way and wearing pajamas.
   "I'm not-" Remus snapped his fingers and suddenly Janus had a yellow onesie on. "...I'm not having a sleepover with you. And you're not even that bad"
   "But I'll be. And in the meantime... Please play truth or dare with me just this time please please" he said in one breath. 
   "You already know my opinion about this game"
   "I know that you like it! You would always laugh and even participate when me and Virgin played!" Janus flinched.
   "That was a long time ago"
   "Just two rounds!" 
   "I..."
   "C'mon! You're not gonna lose an arm if you play just one time. And even if you did, you would still have five perfectly good ones left"
  Janus hesitated. He knew Remus would get worse. It was obvious by the tiredness in his voice, even when he was so excited. And how pale he was. How deep his eyeshadow appeared, making him seem like a dead body. 
   He sighed. Remus smiled from ear to ear. Literally.
   "Truth or dare?!" Asked as if he was a child whose birthday had come earlier.
   "Dare, obviously" Janus said, unable to stop himself from smiling at his friend's happiness, even though they both knew it wouldn't last long. 
   But that was okay. Because they would have one another. And that was enough. It had to be.
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mikauzoran · 3 years
Text
Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Six
@lukadrien-june
Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Six: Secret Relationship
Adrien pulled back with a jolt, springing to his feet and knocking the coffee table with his knee.
The mugs clattered, sloshing tea on the table.
Adrien and Luka stared at one another, wide-eyed.
“S-Sorry. I—I’m sorry. I can’t—”
“—Adrien,” Luka tried to intervene, getting to his feet and holding up his hands in a placating gesture.
“I can’t do this,” Adrien blurted out and then bolted, not stopping until he reached the safety of his cabin.
 Luka sulked.
He wallowed in his suffering, allowing himself to indulge in all kinds of negative thoughts that would only make the hurt worse because, for the first time since Papillon had appeared half a decade before, he could without fear of causing the rest of Paris to have a bad day too.
He let himself steep in his dark mood for a few hours before he decided that it was time to act like an adult and suck it up.
With a sigh, he set aside his violin, got up, and dragged himself across the hall to Adrien’s cabin door.
“Who is it?” Adrien called hoarsely from within, and Luka mentally kicked himself for making Adrien cry.
“It’s…It’s me,” Luka sighed in response. “May I come in?”
Adrien was silent for an unbearably long stretch before finally responding with a faint, “…No.”
Luka exhaled slowly and let his head thunk against the door. “Adrien, I’m really sorry, but I need to talk to you, and I’d rather not have this conversation with a door.”
“Tough,” Adrien scoffed, but his voice sounded closer.
Luka reached up and trailed his fingertips along the grain of the wood, imaging Adrien right on the other side of the partition.
“I’m really sorry.” Luka eased his way in. “What happened earlier was a mistake.”
Adrien’s features contorted in pain, and he was glad that he hadn’t let Luka in because how could he hope to hide so much raw anguish?
He pressed his back to the door and slid down it to sit in a crumpled heap on the floor.
“Yeah,” he choked bitterly. “A mistake.”
“I’m sorry,” Luka repeated, feeling vile and low. “I know you’ve got a lot going on in your life, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your vulnerability like that. I know it’s not an excuse for my behavior, but I got carried away in the moment, and I’m sorry.
“It won’t happen again,” he promised ruefully. “I swear to keep things completely platonic, so there’s no need to—”
“—Luka, I’m not a home wrecker,” Adrien grumbled acerbically. “I’m not going to tell Xavier-Yves what you did, so don’t worry about it. Just go away, please.”
Luka blinked, lifting his head to stare at the door, utterly befuddled. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Adrien rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh of irritation. “I know you two are secretly dating, Luka. I’m not so much of a jerk that I’d tell your boyfriend about what almost happened, so stop trying to butter me up with your apologies and leave me alone. Please.”
“Adrien, I’m not dating Xavier-Yves,” Luka informed in confusion, trying the doorknob and finding it locked.
Adrien blinked, playing Luka’s words over and over a few times before their meaning sank in. “…You’re not?”
“No,” Luka confirmed. “Hey, could you open the door, please? I’d really like to talk to you.”
Adrien got up off of the floor and yanked the door open.
He stared at Luka for a moment, noting how bad he looked.
Luka was similarly struck dumb by Adrien’s gaunt appearance.
Adrien recovered first, demanding, “You’re not dating Xavier-Yves?”
Luka shook his head.
“But…” Adrien’s brows creased. “I saw you guys kissing.”
Luka’s eyes bugged out, and his jaw dropped.
He made a little choked sound. “You what?”
“The other day,” Adrien pressed. “He told you he loved you, and you two were kissing, and… You guys haven’t been dating this whole time and keeping it secret because of his father being a homophobic jerk?”
Luka shook his head. “No. We’re… Nothing like that is going on.”
Adrien whapped Luka on the arm. “Why the hell not? You heard the song he made for you. You like him. He loves you. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Feeling like the floor had dropped out from under him, all Luka could do was stare in bewilderment and shrug helplessly.
“It’s…complicated,” was the only answer he found himself capable of giving.
Adrien slammed the door in Luka’s face.
Luka inwardly groaned, berating himself for mucking things up as his head came to rest on the door with a dull thunk once more.
Meanwhile, Adrien sighed, slumping to the floor with his back against the door again.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled contritely. “I just…I can’t deal with complicated right now.”
“Okay,” Luka muttered glumly, his heart sinking down to be eroded by the acid in his stomach. “…Do you want me to go?”
“Yes,” Adrien lied and was very disappointed in both Luka and himself when he heard Luka’s feet shuffling away, back to his own room.
Adrien tipped over onto his side, curling up on the floor in misery.
He wondered if that had been a fight and then puzzled over what exactly they’d been fighting about.
He knew it was his own fault, but he couldn’t squash the urge to blame someone else just to spread out the pain a little.
 Luka jumped at the tentative tap at his bedroom door breaking in on his concentration.
His eyes widened as he stared in surprise at Adrien.
“Hi.” Luka lowered his violin and waited to see what Adrien would do.
Adrien’s gaze dropped down to the floor as he fidgeted, all nerves.
He hesitantly raised a hand in greeting. “Hi.”
“Nightmare?” Luka inquired, careful to keep his tone neutral so as not to betray anything he was feeling and scare Adrien off.
Luka couldn’t bear his small flicker of hope being crushed again.
Adrien shook his head, peeking up at Luka. “I just…I missed you.”
A tentative smile began to form on Luka’s lips as he patted the bed beside him.
Adrien eagerly scrambled to take a seat and regain some sense of normalcy.
“Sorry,” he hastily began the script he’d been rehearsing for hours now. “I’m sorry about how I acted earlier. I’m…I’m really messed up lately, and I…I can’t take complicated right now. I can’t do complicated, so…”
“Adrien?” Luka carefully placed a hand on Adrien’s arm, his touch light and his grip loose so that Adrien could easily pull away if he so chose.
Adrien’s head whipped around, and he stared apprehensively into Luka’s warm, loving eyes.
“It’s okay. I forgive you, and I’m sorry for how I acted earlier too. Do you think you can forgive me?” He held his breath and mentally crossed his fingers.
Ever so slowly, Adrien started to nod. “…Yeah. Yeah, no. This is… This is all on me. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry I acted so irrationally. I was running on pure feelings, and I…I…”
He shook his head. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Luka urged. “I don’t claim to completely understand your situation, but I do sort of get it. Let’s just pretend that that stuff today didn’t happen, okay? Clean slate?” he suggested.
Adrien gulped and nodded, seeing that this was his best chance. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. You’re so important to me, Luka, and I don’t want to mess things up between us.”
Luka bit the bullet and nodded, accepting that that was the only way to preserve their friendship. “Yeah. I feel the same way. You’re too important for me to lose too.”
Adrien breathed a little sigh of relief and attempted one of his beatific smiles.
It was a poor shadow of the usual expression, but Luka let it go without comment.
“Are you ready for bed? Wait here a sec while I change, okay?” he prompted as if nothing were wrong and this were any other night.
Adrien adopted the same attitude, even going so far as to snuggle up into Luka’s space when they were under the covers.
They could both feel the shift between them, but neither said anything, desperately clinging to the fiction that nothing had changed and everything was still completely platonic between them.
Even though they had made up, the tension was still palpable.
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dadsbongos · 3 years
Text
Mommy Issues
Movie/Game/Show: Umbrella Academy Dynamic: Five Hargreeves/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: you’re a mom of two, maybe might be sad? Summary: Five has to pay a visit to the old lady. ~~~
“Come on,” she held out the can of beans, shaking it around slightly when the boy refused, “You have to eat, Five.”
He shook his head, continuing to mark up the book in his hands, “Too busy.”
“You’re never too busy to fucking eat,” (Y/n) huffed, grabbing the book from his hands and replacing it with the can of beans, “It’ll all be here when you’re done.”
Five pursed his lips but decided to not argue with the woman, “You’re lucky you’re the only person left in this hellhole.”
“How so?” (Y/n) crossed her arms, desperately attempting to hide her starvation, “I get to take care of a little boy?”
“I’m not a little boy, first of all. I’m thirteen, technically a teenager.”
The woman snickered, “What’s your second point?”
Humming through his chewing, Five quirked a brow, gesturing for her to continue.
“You said ‘first of all’,” she shrugged, reaching for the bottle of wine settled amongst the rubble of an old library, “Did you have a second point to bring up?”
When the boy didn’t respond, (Y/n) quietly laughed before looking at the book Five was so focused on since he found it. Extra Ordinary by Vanya Hargreeves, her brows furrowed as she picked it up and began flipping through it. Five nearly choked on his beans, “Careful with that.”
“I will be,” she calmly replied, tone softening at the shared surname between the two, “Was she your mom?”
Five shook his head, taking the book back, “Sister.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” (Y/n) forced on a smile, reaching into her tattered pants’ pocket, “If it’s any consolation, I lost some people too.”
Just as he went to retort, a picture of two children was forced into his hand. A boy his age and a much younger girl, and suddenly he regretted every time he mockingly called her mom. Her sad smile was still painted on her lips as realization sunk its claws into Five, “Your kids?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, sitting up straight, “I took all the pictures in the house before packing up.”
“Since we’re learning about each other,” he held out Vanya’s book, “I think you should read this.”
(Y/n) nodded, opening up to the first page, “If you want, for whatever weird reason is in your genius brain, you can keep the picture. I have a lot.”
“Thanks,” he pressed the photo into his blazer pocket, “you can’t keep the book. I want that back when you’re done and don’t write in it.”
“Naturally.”
Silence broke over the pair until (Y/n) spoke again, much quieter than before.
“What?”
“Stop zoning out, creeper,” she ruffled his hair.
“Don’t baby me, (Y/n),” the thirteen-year-old boy snapped, still clutching his mannequin companion to his scrawny body.
In response, the woman rolled her eyes, “I’ll baby you all I want, Five, because in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a wasteland and I’m the only adult alive.”
“So far,” the boy glared, “There could be some lonely Australian man across the ocean and we have no clue.”
She shook her head, “Well until we find him, I’m still going to baby you - because that’s what you are to me. A little baby in need of mothering.”
Five grumbled under his breath, “You’re more annoying than anything else at this point.”
(Y/n) didn’t verbally reply, only pulling up the scarf acting as the boy’s mask before continuing down the road. She turned when Five didn’t follow, nudging her head down the way, “Come on, I think there's a wagon we could find to carry supplies!”
A wagon there was, but only one. At least at that point. The grown woman huffed while looking around, “Put Dolores in, you’re rolling the thing with you.”
“What?” Five looked up at her, “But you’re the adult, aren’t you?”
“Which means I get to tell you to roll it around.”
The wagon would go to him then. The boy.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Five’s brows furrowed as he walked, lugging the dirtied thing behind him, “What are you talking about now, (Y/n)?”
She simply stared at him, a blank, empty stare, “What are you thinking about?”
Her eyes made him nervous now, they were devoid of any kindness and warmth they usually held when looking at him. Less like a loving mother-figure and more like the mannequin he held close at night. But even Dolores smiled every so often.
“Five!” she suddenly shouted, no longer walking. She rushed over, grabbing his shoulders, “Five!”
There were no hands on his shoulders, just the old, wrinkled one between his own hands. He blinked a few times, shaking his head before looking down to the elderly woman on the floor, “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“As spacey as ever,” (Y/n) chuckled dryly, coughing a few times between the laughter, “I asked what you were thinking about.”
“Oh, nothing much,” he lied easily enough, “Just how much I’ll enjoy you not bossing me around.”
The dying woman shook her head, using what little strength she had to smack his arm, “You’ve been a rude little boy since we met.”
“Well,” he shrugged, letting a soft silence fill the heated air, rubbing his thumb over the weathered bones in this old woman’s hand, “What about you? What are you thinking about?”
“My kids,” she smiled faintly, “I’m excited to see them again.”
Little Joan and Lacy, he’d heard about them countless times. Joan was about his age when the pair first met after the Apocalypse, dark hair and light eyes with freckles spread across his cheeks. Lacy was on the younger scale with little curls sprouting from her head and brown eyes like honey pots with a birthmark right on her forehead. Adorable kids, from what few pictures survived the fall of humanity.
“I wish I could’ve met them,” he grinned down at the faint woman.
(Y/n) nodded weakly, eyes fluttering shut every now and again, “You three would’ve been so cute together. Them trying to make you smile and you just being grumpy; like something out of a sitcom.”
Five’s eyebrows rose at the sentence, “Now I’m not so sure.”
“Stop,” she wheezed, patting at her chest, “You would’ve loved them…” it was quiet for a few more moments, “I’m worried about you too, you know? Being all alone after so long, I don’t want you to go completely crazy.”
“I won’t be alone,” he attempted to reassure, nodding towards their plastic friend, “I have Dolores, don’t I?”
“God, don’t get me started on that…”
“I really will be fine,” he gripped her hand a little tighter, “Don’t be worrying about me, I can handle myself, old lady.”
“One day you’ll be an old man, and then who’ll be laughing? Me, from the afterlife.”
Five wouldn’t admit it, but the thought of (Y/n) still being somewhat around comforted him, “I’ll be counting on it.”
“Better be.”
. . .
Five rubbed at his temples, stopping the Apocalypse built up a headache worse than surviving it. He pushed the doors to Griddy’s open, not having had one of their coffees since his first night into the present. He slid onto a stool at the counter, giving Agnes a nod when she waved at him.
Agnes went into the back and after a few murmurs, he assumed a new waitress would be serving him.
Looking to the right, two familiar faces came into view. His eyes widened, hands fumbling for the photo in his blazer pocket. After (Y/n) died he made a habit of keeping it around; felt wrong to go without it. He looked between the picture to the children.
The doors from the back opened up and a painfully familiar woman stepped through. She smiled at two kids, ruffling the boy’s dark hair and pinching at the girl’s cheek before going over to Five. 
(Y/n) shot him a grin, pulling a pad of paper from her uniform, “What can I get you today?”
Five didn’t answer immediately, stare fixated on the living, breathing, not-dead woman in front of him. Unlike in their years together, her skin was less dirt-covered, hands less crusted in ash and soil, hair more well-kept. She seemed healthy, happy. After realizing he was staring for far too long, he cleared his throat, pocketing the photo, “Sorry, I’ll have a coffee. Black.” 
“No donuts?” she teased, “I know they’re not top-of-the-line, but I never miss an opportunity to snag a few for my kids,” she pointed her pen in the kids’ direction.
“Well, I suppose I could get…” he looked over the menu before continuing, “a lemon jelly donut.”
(Y/n) wrote down the order, “Funny, that’s my son’s favorite.”
“What a coincidence,” of course, he knew that. He knew it fifty times over.
Nodding, she tore off the paper before walking towards the back, stopping at the two kids. The tiny glances from both child in his direction made it obvious he had been mentioned. Giving Joan and Lacy each a kiss on the forehead, (Y/n) made her way to the back kitchen.
Lacy looked between her older brother and the strange boy before getting down from her stool and skipping over to the brunette. She gave him a broad, pearly smile, “Hi.”
Five smiled slightly, turning in his seat to look at the girl properly, “Hello.”
Joan followed after his sister, smiling apologetically to the boy about his age while taking the girl’s hand, “I’m sorry about her.”
“No, she’s fine,” he waved off the other boy’s sympathies, “She's pretty adorable.”
(Y/n) returned from the back, carefully setting down the steaming coffee followed by Five’s donut, “Hope my kids aren’t bothering you. They like making friends with the customers.”
He shook his head, “Not a problem.”
Joan slid onto the stool beside Five, holding his baby sister in his lap, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
Five nodded slowly, wrapping both hands around his warm cup, already feeling his headache begin to dissipate, “I used to come here a lot when I was younger.”
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