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#anyway I've been away on vacation for over a week
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I was determined to save my baby. I didn't want [Tony] to get that hunger that possessed Ali. I made decisions. There was a chance he wouldn't inherit his father's powers or urges, so yes, I hid the truth. When he turned 17, the djinn marks started to show, and I couldn't explain those away. And then one night, he walked right into my dream, and he saw everything, including the fact that he terrified me.
Ada Monroe in Legends of a Mind (1x05): Best of SPN WIN Gals and Nonbinary Pals [22/?]
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That's What Friends Are For- E.M.
I've been really thirsty for Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie so I poured myself this taaaallll drink of water. Hope you love it xx
You've never had an orgasm, and Eddie would be happy to help remedy that.
Part 2
Masterlist
TW- 18+ MINORS DNI!! Cursing, mentions of smoking, heavy petting, pet names (angel, sweetheart), a lil crying (but in a good way), fingering (lmk if I missed any)
Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie
Word Count- 4,802
(Gifs not mine, credit to owner!)
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It wasn’t something that you’d normally ask, but with the haze of weed clouding your senses and the exaggerated moans of the poor actress being exploited for the dumb action movie you and Eddie were watching out of sheer boredom, you couldn’t help yourself. You turn to Eddie, the cogs in your head turning in overtime as the words reach your mouth before you can even put too much stock in them, “What does an orgasm even feel like?” Your eyes narrow as you imagine it, the sounds of the woman on screen echoing in your mind. There’s no way that real people sound like that, no, this is just some stupid movie that you and Eddie had never even heard of before digging it out of the pile of tapes beneath the TV. “I mean, I guess it’s gotta feel good, but does it feel that good?”  
While you ponder the probability of the sounds onscreen being at all accurate for real-world scenarios, Eddie’s face pales, the light high he’d been enjoying completely knocked out of his body at your words. Despite being best friends for the past several years, you never really talked about your sex lives with each other. For you, it was because it didn’t exist. For Eddie, it was because the only person he really wanted anymore was you. Every other person in town combined couldn’t interest him half as much as you, and he had definitely looked. Pining after your best friend for years wasn’t really something Eddie was interested in doing, not that it helped. Of course, the only reason you hadn’t made a move—aside from the fact that you were thoroughly terrified at the thought of being rejected—was because you thought that Eddie was something of a ladies’ man. You knew he was much more experienced than you, not that that was a difficult feat, but you knew that he at least went on dates. And you never wanted your attraction to him get in the way of your friendship anyway. If he liked you, he would’ve made a move sooner, right?  
Wrong. 
Eddie had fallen head over heels for you about a year after you had met, both of you juniors in high school. You went away with your family on vacation for a couple weeks that summer and came back... different. You were more confident, and even though it had only been a short separation, you looked different, more womanly than gangly teenager. He liked you before, but some switch inside his chest flicked, like the lights were finally turning on in some long-forgotten roller coaster ride. He’s had it bad for you ever since, suffering in silence because he knows how shy you used to be, and still are to some extent. He would never, ever want to do or say anything to make you uncomfortable, including putting his feelings on the line in exchange for your amazing friendship.  
Still, the news that you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like was surprising. He knew you were private about your dating life, and he always respected that. But you had had boyfriends before. And you were both in your early 20s now. Surely you had been with one of them. Or even figured it out on your own... 
“What?” is the brilliant response that flies from Eddie’s lips as his brain short circuits. You look back at his face, having wandered away, lost in thought. Eddie half expects you to backtrack, but still, to his surprise, you double down. 
“What does an orgasm feel like?” He can tell your Mary Jane consumption must be fueling this line of questioning, but if you’re really curious... 
“Um, well...” Eddie flounders, trying to find the words to say. You keep your focus on him, your thoughts trailing only slightly as you wait for him to respond. “It... It does feel really good. I don’t know exactly what it feels like for women, but for guys, at least, for me, it’s like my whole body kind of explodes, but in, like, the best way,”  
You mull this over for a moment, your eyes darting between Eddie’s face and the screen, which has since moved past the over-exaggerated sex scene back into shootouts between the good guy and the bad ones. “Okay, well, have any of the girls you’ve been with ever sounded like that?” You were genuinely curious, trying to imagine what could feel that good and coming up blank. 
Eddie chuckles a bit, eyes flicking up in a memory, “Well, one, but I’m pretty sure she was faking. Some women think they have to sound like that because that’s what the movies show them they’re supposed to sound like. But really, there are all different kinds of... sounds... that people make when they’re feeling that good,” he explains, his surprise relaxing now into amusement just slightly. 
“Oh,” You look back at the screen, apparently done with your questions. Eddie feels his heartbeat fading back into its normal rhythm after the near heart-attack you had inflicted upon him, and things go quiet for a minute before you turn your head back toward him, mouth poised open to speak. “Do you think—Never mind,” You quickly shove the thought back down your throat, remembering that Eddie’s not supposed to know you’ve been in love with him forever.  
The possibilities of what you were about to ask him makes his heart race again, until he’s burning to know. “What is it?” He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 
Your lips press together and shake your head as a heat spreads over your face, giving you a moment of clarity amid the warmth of the high. “No, it’s okay, it was a dumb question,” You wave your hand in dismissal, and pray that Eddie doesn’t press it further in fear of your mouth working faster than your logic. Of course, you have no such luck. 
“There are no dumb questions. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. Would I ever judge you for anything? And really think about that, because I’ve seen you pick a pickle up off the floor and eat it,” He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. It helps a little, and with his reassurance and that fleeting moment of clarity far away, you open your mouth again, hesitating as you find the right words. 
“Do you think... that you could maybe... show me?”  
Eddie’s eyes bulge from his skull, and he’s afraid that his heart has totally stopped for a minute. But after an agonizing moment, a thick thump of his heart breathes life back into him, and he can only pray that you can’t hear it as it loudly thump, thump, thumps in his chest.  
“Show you..?” It’s a begging question. He’s not exactly sure which part you want to learn, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t assume anything. 
You turn away again, the mortification laying over you in a thick blanket. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... You can forget it,” 
Eddie doesn’t want to mess this up, and the visions of you making such pretty little sounds for him, or better yet, unraveling under his touch, automatically send all of the spare blood in his body downward, so quickly that he almost becomes dizzy. He has to make an effort to shift his body to hide his growing erection as he tries to reassure you. “No, no! Don’t worry, I’m listening. It’s okay, I swear! What do you want me to show you? I... I can do my best,” His voice is sincere, sincere enough to make you look sheepishly back at him, your lashes low as you try not to look in his eyes. 
You take a deep breath, your head buzzing with adrenaline as you form the words. “Would you show me how to have an orgasm?”  
Eddie swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He’s trying so hard to make this seem as chill as possible, for both of your sakes. If he gets too eager too quickly, there’s no way he wouldn’t just bust in his pajama pants, and he might scare you. His mouth is dry as he nods quickly, “Um, yeah. I- I can definitely try,” He watches as your face grows redder by the second, but you give a small smile, one that makes Eddie lightheaded again as another shockwave of want shoots through his half-hard cock. “Do you want to go to my room?” He asks softly, gauging the look on your face as you still avoid his eyes.  
“Yeah,” You murmur, but your legs won’t move. There’s a want in you, despite not knowing how to indulge it, and as Eddie gets up from the couch, offering a hand to you, you take it and squeeze, finally looking up at him. Eddie feels like he might faint in that moment, your hazy eyes doe-like and innocent, not making it any easier for him to keep calm. He pulls you up to your feet and you follow him, your hand in his, to his room.  
You shut the door behind you, flicking the lock on the knob despite being the only ones home, and turn to face Eddie, who stands just behind you, still not believing what might happen. “S-so, um...” He begins, feet shuffling beneath him. “For girls, it’s a lot harder to... finish. It takes a lot of warming up first,” Your brow furrows. 
“Warming up?” A blush breaks out over Eddie’s cheeks, and he reaches out to let his fingers trace up your arm, ghosting over your shoulder and up your neck. A breath hitches in your throat as his palm cups your face, and suddenly, you think you might know what he means. Nevertheless, he explains. 
“It’s a lot easier when you’re feeling good from other things first. Like touching, kissing... things like that. It can be painful if you don’t do it right,” Your lashes flutter as he leans in slightly, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face. 
“Oh,” Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh at your breathless response, and already you feel yourself turning to putty in his hands.  
“I want you to tell me if you don’t like something, okay? Don’t try to spare my feelings. If you want me to stop doing something, or you want me to do something specific, you tell me. Okay?” The demanding edge in his whispers snaps you back to reality, and you feel a warmth building deep within you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Sure, shadows of this have been felt watching risqué movies with sex scenes or kissing your prior boyfriends awkwardly in the backs of their cars, but that pales in comparison. This is a new, deep burn in the very depths of your body. 
“Mhmm,” You try to lean closer to him, to feel more, but his other hand goes to your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes meet his, and they’re unexpectedly hard, his brown eyes serious as he looks at you. 
“I need you to say it. I need to know you can say it,” Your breath stutters again at his words, but still, you find your voice. 
“I- I don’t like that,” You whisper, and it’s all you can do. Eddie nods in approval, but his eyes want you to continue, “I want you... I want you to kiss me,” You can hear the hammer of your heart in your ears, your blood singing as the anticipation grows. Eddie’s eyes return to their normal softness, gazing into yours like he’s seeing the sun set over the ocean for the first time.  
“Are you sure?” Eddie whispers as he inches toward you, his face leaning down ever closer. This might be the closest you’ve ever been to him, and the thought sends a delicious shiver up your spine. His nose just brushes yours, and your eyes flutter shut. 
“I want you to kiss me, Eddie,” It’s barely a breath, but he hears you, and gently, gently, his lips meet yours, barely a brush of skin against skin. You hear him suck in a deep breath before letting his lips move against yours a little more firmly, the hand on your waist snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. You let your hands find the back of his hair, which is up in a cute, messy bun, and your fingers wind themselves around a few loose, curly tendrils there. Then, Eddie’s lips move across your cheek, down toward your jaw, and the first sound comes loose from your lips. 
It’s a tiny noise, but it might as well have been Eddie’s favorite song, the way he revels in it. He can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as you press yourself against him, not really knowing what to do other than let Eddie work his way down your neck with his lips. “E-Eddie...” You whimper, hands gently grasping at the fabric at the back of his worn t-shirt.  
Eddie stops then, immediately, waiting for your instruction. He had gone too far, hadn’t he? He had done something to make you uncomfortable and now you’d never ever talk to him again... “Can we lay down?” You ask, breathy and quiet in his ear. He presses a firm kiss to the top of your shoulder in relief, elated that you were enjoying what was happening before pulling away. 
“Yeah, let’s get you comfy,” He smiles one of those easy, lopsided smiles that takes your breath away, and you feel the butterflies that usually reside in your stomach move downward to your core. You instinctively clench your thighs together to try to squash the foreign feeling, but as Eddie moves to lay down, you see the bulge in his loose pants, and it sends a new swarm flooding your body. With a deep breath, you join Eddie and lay next to him, his face only inches from yours. His hand reaches toward your face, gently brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you want to just keep kissing, or are you ready to try something else?” He asks. You think it over, biting the inside of your lip as you bite back the embarrassment of being so inexperienced next to him.  
“Can we try something new and still do some kissing?” You smile sheepishly, not being able to hold his gaze as your face heats. He lets out a small laugh, not at you, but because you’re so nervous. 
“Yeah, we can do that. Is it okay if I touch you? I can just try a few things and you can figure out what you like,” He suggests, his eyes roaming over you. You’re not wearing a bra, because you never did when you and Eddie were just lounging around watching movies and smoking, something Eddie had to get used to quick when your body started really developing. Once or twice when he was a few years younger, he had to fake an upset stomach just to relieve his aching cock in the bathroom upon seeing your pert nipples through the fabric of one of his old t-shirts. 
“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” With your permission, Eddie’s fingers gently reach the hem of your shirt, slipping under and running his calloused fingertips over the smooth skin of your side. You let out a gasp, your eyes screwing shut, and he notices the way your hips move of their own accord, trying to scratch an itch you’ve never felt before. He has to bite back a moan of his own just at the sight of you, so beautiful, so willing beneath his capable hands. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand moves up your side, leaning in to kiss you like he said he would, like he was aching to do again, and you accept his lips greedily, your hands pressing into the sides of his face as he glides across your skin, not light enough to tickle, but enough to send tingles over your skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his caress. 
When his hand comes to cup your breast, not daring to flick over the sensitive nub just yet, you let out your second noise as he gives a little squeeze there. This one is muffled by his lips, pressed firmly to yours, and the vibration of it shoots straight down to his cock, which twitches willfully in his pants, wanting you more and more every second that passes. 
With a light touch, Eddie lets his thumb just brush your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you, leading to your third noise, a much sharper sound that almost sounds painful. But when your lips press into his even harder, Eddie is only spurred on and he does it again, then lets his full hand grope over the full mound, rubbing across your breast with his palm. Eddie lets his tongue trace over your bottom lip then, and you open your mouth to him, not really knowing how to kiss with tongue, but unwilling to stop to make a comment about it as your body ignites to a new level of fire and electricity.  
Your legs are continuously rubbing together now, the friction glorious but not enough, and you want to feel more. You’re panting in between the long stretches of kissing, and while you don’t want to stop, you also need to tell Eddie what you want. So, instead of rushing back to his kiss, you press your thumb gently to his bottom lip, pupils blown with need. “Can you take my shorts off?” You ask, your confidence building. Eddie nods all too eagerly, and he gets up onto his knees to shift town toward your bottom half. You roll onto your back and lift your butt to make it a bit easier for him, his hands finding purchase at your hips, fingers dipping just below the waistband when he stops. 
“Do you want me to take your underwear off too?” He asks, wanting to be sure. You bite your lip again as the embarrassment floods back. 
“I’m not wearing any...” You admit, giving a small smile. His hands grip at your hips a bit harder then, and his sharp breath only helps your growing need. This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, towering over you like this. You can see the long outline of his length through his pants now, and you let your mind wonder what could happen if this goes even further than you originally intended. It’s enough to make your hips roll in Eddie’s hands as he starts pulling down your sleep shorts. You close your eyes, trying to keep your embarrassment from making you chicken out when you’re finally about to get what you’ve always wanted. 
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, and your eyes shoot open as you stare at him, mortification building in your chest. 
“What? Is it bad? Do I look weird?” You ask in a flurry. Your hands go to cover your face, thighs clenching together to spare yourself when Eddie pries your legs apart again. 
“What? God no! You look... You look fucking amazing,” There’s a wonder in his voice, and you peek through your fingers to find him staring down at you, the look on his face amorous, hungry almost, like you’re his favorite meal in the world. It takes you aback, but nevertheless, there’s a twitch in your hips again, seeking a friction that you can no longer achieve for the time being. Eddie gently lowers himself on top of you, and you let out a moan when you feel the fabric of his pants brushing over your bare pussy. You let your hands fall as you try to push yourself into him, but there’s a hand holding onto your hip now to keep you down. “Oh my god, please, can you try not to do that right now? I am already in serious danger here, angel. If I feel even a little bit of you against my dick I’m fucking done for,” Eddie breathes a laugh to cover the moan in his voice, his face hovering over yours. 
“B-but I want—” Eddie cuts you off with a deep kiss, his hand squeezing into your hip as you desperately try to feel him against you again. 
“Not tonight, sweetheart. I want this one to be about you, okay? If you still want to in the morning, we can circle back,” Eddie offers, and you give a small nod. “Okay, then. I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I’ll go nice and slow. If you want me to change what I’m doing, just tell me,” You nod again and the hand gripping your hip travels down and his lips meet the hollow of your neck, giving just a tiny nip at the skin that sends your hips up again in need. Eddie tries to hold it in, but he can’t help but moan softly against your skin as he continues his journey.  
His fingers ghost just over the sensitive bud of nerves then, and the shock that goes through your body is even more intense than before when he was playing with your nipple. Your arms fling around his back and you grip the fabric of his t-shirt like a lifeline. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” Eddie whispers as he travels up your neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good,”  
The promise is punctuated by a soft circle around your clit, and your whimper is so pathetic it startles you as it tumbles from your lips. You can feel how wet you are now; how hot your core is against his fingertips. It’s so blissful, so wanton that you feel your walls clenching around nothing, another new feeling that sends your head reeling. Eddie continues his gentle pattern around your bud, sucking sweet bruises into the skin below your ear between whispers of sweet nothing that spur you forward on your quest into the unknown world of this beautiful feeling. 
“E-Eddie,” You plead, head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers pull his shirt so that your hands connect with his skin, “Can you go—Can you go a little f-faster, please?” Eddie nods into the crook of your neck as he complies, fingers moving just a bit faster, a bit firmer against you, and your chest starts heaving in pants again, moans spilling from your mouth more freely now. You grind into his hand pathetically as the intense pleasure grows. You feel like you could cry at the feeling, so blissful and beautiful and everything you’ve ever dreamed of as Eddie works you further and further, his lips only ever leaving your skin to whisper sweet nothings to you. 
“You’re doing so good... I can’t believe I get to do this for you... Been wanting you like this for so long...” Eddie nips and sucks and licks across your neck, up your face, across your lips, and you’re just so consumed by him that you feel hot little pinpricks in the corners of your eyes, your throat going thick as the tears begin. 
When Eddie catches sight of the first one, he slows his work on your core, afraid that you had changed your mind. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You feel a pang of panic then, not really knowing why but knowing that you were desperate to reach the edge you were approaching. You pull at his shirt, not being able to verbalize your excruciating need for a second. 
“No, no!” You plead, “Don’t stop, please... I just... Please don’t stop...” You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe because it feels so good, maybe because the emotions are just so new that your body is startled by them. Either way, Eddie is reluctant but believes you, because he trusts you and you trust him so completely that you don’t think that there’s any way that either of you would or even could hurt each other. 
Eddie picks up the pace again, his lips focusing on yours now to help keep you from crying. Your fingernails scratch up his back as you whine and writhe beneath him, coming closer and closer to something. There’s a tenseness in your stomach now, and it’s building. There must be a precipice close, a pinnacle to all of this pleasure and need Eddie has been giving you. Your panting breaths become more ragged, and Eddie gets the feeling that you’re close. 
“That’s it, angel. You gonna cum for me?” He practically moans against your mouth, and it’s another agonizing minute of this pressure inside you building before you feel it.  
Your hands clench Eddie’s shirt as you unravel. Your tears are flowing freely down your face, mouth open in a loud moan that reverberates on the walls of Eddie’s small room. Eddie keeps drawing circles over your clit as you ride through the waves of your first ever orgasm, kissing down to the top of your chest and back up to add to the pleasure. Finally, you feel it start to subside, the wide waves lessening into ripples as your breath starts to even out again. Eddie slows down again, and finally stops after a few more seconds, wanting to draw out your bliss as much as he can. He kisses you deeply, the hand on your pussy traveling up to grip your side, sliding up past the hem of your shirt as he holds you firm. You can feel the slick on his fingers cooling down on your skin, and it sends a new wave of shivers through your body.  
You kiss each other for a long time, not wanting to go back to reality where you’re just friends, but finally you have to pull away for air. You look at each other, both of you quiet. There’s a new electricity in the air, charged with the anticipation of what you’ll say to each other now that everything has changed.  
“How was that?” Eddie settles on, his brow set in a concerning furrow. He wants to make sure that you had the best experience he could’ve offered you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel this good all the time. 
Your soft eyes bore into his and you nod slowly, trying to etch every detail of this night into your memory forever. “It was amazing. You are...” Your hand comes to hold his face, and he leans into your touch in such a way that your heart melts for him even more. “You’re so amazing, Eddie, thank you.” You give a little laugh then, at how silly it sounds for you to thank your friend for giving you an orgasm. Eddie laughs a little too, and he stretches his lips to kiss the edge of your palm. 
“Anything for my favorite girl,” He whispers, smiling that easy smile that you love so much. Pride sparkles in your chest at his words. God, you love him so much... 
“So...” You feel a blush creeping on your face again, “You’ve been wanting me... like this?” You think back to the words he whispered against your neck that made your insides turn to mush. 
Eddie flicks his eyes away from you, embarrassed. “You caught that, huh?” 
“Was I not supposed to?” You giggle, your smile sending shockwaves through Eddie’s body. 
“Well, I just didn’t think you would. You seemed to be pretty distracted if I recall,” He jabs playfully, his gaze returning to you. His eyes soften at his next thought, “What do you think about that?” 
This is it, this is where everything changes. It’ll never be the same after this. “I...” You begin, building your courage. “I’ve been wanting that, too.”  
Eddie’s face moves through confusion, surprise, and then settles on joy, his smile widening to reach his sparking brown eyes. “Yeah? You’ve been wanting that too?” Your smile matches his as you nod, letting out a breath of a laugh with the relief settling in your chest. 
Suddenly, Eddie squeezes you in a bone crushing hug, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle. His lips settle on yours again, and it’s like taking a drink of cool water after wandering in the desert. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this, but by God, you’d be happy to. 
You keep kissing and cuddling for a long time, talking like you usually do, how best friends do, but now it’s just better. Best friends, but there’s no more hesitancy, no more wishing for more, because now, you have everything you could ever want. 
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cozymaples · 4 months
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mile high! (steve harrington x reader)
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a/n: ohhhh man. i've been meaning to write this for a long time. eons ago, i sent an ask to @stevenose with this specific request, and now here we are, imagining our own version of it. i hope you feast!
contains: afab!reader , public sex (plane) , rich!steve , long term boyfriend!steve, praises, mentions of inheritance
word count: 1.1k
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Steve had always been wealthy. Born into it. It remained on the back burner for him, ready for whenever he wanted to take it. He had always waved it off, devoting his time to those around him; the kids, the group, and you. 
You.
You had become his main priority, making ends meet no matter what it took. You’d eventually moved into an apartment together, and you didn’t mind the size. Despite the fact that it was small, and somewhat cramped, you and Steve had worked for it, and that was what mattered. So when Steve’s father passes, call it old age or stress, Steve is..strangely okay. His relief outweighs his grievances, knowing he no longer had to live up to his father’s expectations. However, his father has left him an inheritance. A hefty one, at that. 
Steve spends weeks spiraling over it, insisting that it must be a mistake. No matter how many times you try to reassure him, you slowly realize he’ll have to come to terms with it on his own. “And after everything we’ve been through, you deserve a little bit of a break, Steve.” You’d argued, tenderly. “You don’t have to fight for everything, all the time. Maybe the universe knows that.” You crack a small grin, tenderhearted and sorrowful in the eyes. You feel bad that he can’t accept any form of a break, questioning any good thing that came into his life. Everything besides you. 
You were the one thing he’d never question; only thanking his lucky stars each and every night that they’d given you to him. 
Weeks turn into months, and Steve has slowly started allowing the wealth in. It starts small; being early on rent, replacing that shitty pipe in the bathroom. But then, deservingly so, he reaches his hand a bit further. Opting for a better car, trading his beat-up beemer in at the shop. Taking you to new places, booking a flight here and there. So when you both end of slipping into a luxury lifestyle, the transition is so seamless that you barely notice.
It’s only times like this when you notice; boarding a plane with Steve holding your hand, guiding you into first class. It’s spacious, definitely a tangible upgrade from coach. Steve had been putting more work into business, and with the inheritance acting as a permanent safety cushion, you knew Steve was taking up business because he wanted to; not because someone was forcing him to. Your flight was an overnight one, half of the passengers dozed off already. Steve had decided that you both needed a vacation, somewhere far away. You agreed.  The low hum of the plane soothes you as you rest on his shoulder, but you continue to stir, finally succumbing to your insomnia.
 “I can’t sleep.” You say, glancing up at him. His arm is draped over your frame, rubbing your back softly. He nods in agreement, a hazy half-lidded grin on his features. “Me neither,” He confesses. “How do we get you tired, sweetheart?” He asks, half-teasingly. You feel your clit throb, and the idea is planted in your head before you can even try to deflect it. It paints your features, and he notices. “Yeah?” He asks, brows raised with suspicion. You nod. He inhales sharply, a deep exhale following. You gaze around the plane, trying to plead your case. “Everyone’s asleep anyway,” You whisper, “No one would even notice.” You look at him with pleading eyes, and he nods slowly, nudging you gently to get up. 
The bathroom is tight, but just roomy enough that you can turn and lean against most of the surfaces. Steve has you pressed against the sink; the counter too thin to fully sit on, but just wide enough to rest on. His Rolex-clad wrist snakes up your chest, large palm nestling around your throat. He kisses sloppily along your jawline, his cock ramming into your pussy as his free hand hooks under your knee, granting him deeper access. Your moans have been muffled due to the squeezing around your throat, and he guides his lips to your ear. “Wouldn’t wanna wake anyone-yeah?” He groans softly, looking down at you as you nod in agreement. Just the sight of you makes him bite his tongue, jaw clenching harshly. Your clit is aching, and you can only focus on the way his cock slides in and out of you. Steve’s thick, and big. Always has been. The idea that you get to spend the rest of your life taking it makes your head spin. 
When he pulls it from you, whine loudly with protest, and he shushes you harshly. Spinning you around, he bends you forward just slightly, holding your hips as he realigns his cock with your pussy. He takes the time to rub the head against your clit, and you feel like you’re going to explode if he doesn’t let you finish soon. All of your emotions are heightened, paired with the anticipation of potentially getting caught. “Feels good, yeah?” You nod, whimpering as softly as you can, feeling his thick head continue to tug and push against your clit. “F’course it fuckin’ does.” He coos, sliding his cock back into you. Your eyes roll and your head falls forward, and he catches you by your neck. “Look at yourself.” He demands, and you do, with the aid of him holding your head up by your throat. Your face is flushed, red and warm, stray hairs sticking to your face as your jaw goes slack. “Yeah,” He praises, jaw clenching as he watches you, his cock throbbing inside of you as he rams into you. “That’s my fuckin’ girl.” Your stomach is graced with a familiar warmth, and you whine softly. “Close, aren’t you?” He asks, pulling you closer by your neck as he whispers against the shell of your ear. His breath is warm, his voice soft, and you shudder. “Come on, then.” He encourages, “Come.” You start to clench around him, whines and whimpers sporadically spilling from you. He quiets you by squeezing your cheeks, and it becomes increasingly harder for him to focus on two things at once. He risks you being too loud for the exchange of your orgasm, and his own. His thrusts grow more sloppy, harsher. “Shit,” He whines, and the way he sounds makes you dizzy. You both watch each other in the mirror, both of you unraveling for each other. You let him come inside of you, and he stays there after he comes, panting against the shell of you as his tightened grip loosens on you. He laughs, shocked that you both pulled this off. You join him, eyes blown wide with bewilderment. 
“Well,” He says with a smug grin, pulling your panties back up for you, pressing a kiss against the top of your head as you feel him dripping out of you. 
“Guess we can cross that one off our bucket list.” 
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hikarry · 4 months
Text
You know who loves casinos? Crowley. Because he has a lot of luck in the game. Luck of the devil and all that
Every time he is (lowkey) forced to go to America, even if he is just supposed to pop up into Mississippi, he eventually finds his way to Vegas and spends at least a week there. Not only is it an excuse to wear his best clothes and look his best, but hey, Vegas is a pool of sin. Greed. Lust. Envy. Easy ass temptations. It's his element
At some point in time, while in Vegas, he comes across the angel. It was unexpected, surely, but a nice surprise nonetheless. As an angel, Crowley would have thought Aziraphale would stay as far away from places like these as possible not to get tainted by all the sins, and yet, here he is.
"Angel." Crowley approaches him from behind, leaning on the bar next to him.
"Crowley." Aziraphale answers, not looking up from his wine glass.
"Never thought I would find you in the Bellagio. Or Vegas in general, for that matter."
"And why is that?"
"Oh, you know, all the sin. Everywhere you look. Must feel like an itch to your..." He wiggles his fingers. "...angelic senses. Popped around to bless some poor, corrupted soul?"
Aziraphale finally looks up, offering him a smile.
"If you must know, I'm on vacation."
Crowley lifts an eyebrow over his sunglasses.
"Vacation?"
"Indeed." Aziraphale turns around on his seat, so he is not facing the bar anymore, but the populace in general. "Wanted to know what all the fuss about this place was about."
Crowley mimics him, leaning both his elbows on the bar, watching the people around the hotel.
"And? What's the verdict?"
The angel sighs, looking up at him again, as Crowley looks down at him as well.
"I've mostly been watching the live shows, honestly. Some are good, most are mediocre. I've been waiting for the right time to try one of the casinos."
"And what, exactly, is the definition of 'right time'?" Aziraphale opens a slow bastardly smile in his direction, lifting an eyebrow. "Oh." Crowley smiles back, slightly leaning in his direction. "Angel, you been waiting for me. What a gentleman."
Aziraphale chuckles and gets up from his seat, running his hands down his clothes.
"I could feel your presence as soon as I stepped out of the airplane, my dear."
"And what best way to fall into sin than with the devil himself at your side, is it?" Crowley offers him his arm, but Aziraphale bats it away playfully.
"Don't say it like that. I'm merely curious as to why humans seem to enjoy the dangers of gambling so much." He gestures towards the entrance of the casino. "Shall I tempt you into keeping me company?"
The demon snorts, giving the angel a final once over, before offering him a cocky smile and setting his hand on the angel's lower back, guiding him to the casino.
"Aren't you a box full of surprises." He leans closer and whispers on Aziraphale's ear before straightening himself and looking for some avaliable space at a Russian Roulette.
Alas, Crowley is certainly lucky at the game, but so is Aziraphale, even though he wouldn't call it luck. He would say "it's simple strategy, dear boy!"
They play many games through the night, but they spend most of their time at the poker table. Crowley's poker face is good. It comes with the job description. And he's got some extra points because of the sunglasses. But, surprisingly so, so is Aziraphale's. He is so good, in fact, that they stop playing as adversaries and form a team. With 6000 years under their belt of being secretive, they read each other's subtle signs easily and clean the tables like a very efficient money vacuum. They work so good together they fall into suspicious of cheating and, before they are thrown out, they collect the money and leave of their own accord, right in the direction of the bar where they get absolutely plastered.
"Anyway, until when are you staying? If given two more days I'm sure we can clean the whole of Vegas!"
Aziraphale snorts into his whiskey.
"I don't know, my dear. I think I've had excitement enough for the next year."
"Aww no!" Crowley fully tuns towards Aziraphale, laying his hand on his shoulder. "Cmon, we killed it! We could leave this place multimillionaires!"
"You know we, technically, already are, dear boy. We can literally make money out of the aether."
Crowley rolls his eyes, giving Aziraphale's shoulder a little push.
"It's the principle of the thing. Money won, not made. It has a whole other thrill."
"Mmh." The angel stays in silence for a couple of moments, looking at his glass, until he looks up at the demon. "Where are you staying?"
"Here. You?"
"Four Seasons. Do you want to have breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"At the Four Seasons?" Aziraphale nods while Crowley takes a sip of his glass. "Meet you at 9?"
"At 9."
They did meet, indeed. And had breakfast together. And lunch. And dinner. And when Aziraphale was supposed to stay for only 2 more days, he expanded his stay to 4 more days to leave on the same day as Crowley.
I don't need to say they spent the rest of the days glued to each other. Crowley even changed his stay from the Bellagio to the Four Seasons to be more "efficient", or so he says.
They explored the whole Strip and cleaned every casino they set foot in. Aziraphale made a schedule with all the live shows he wanted to watch and he dragged Crowley up and down the Strip to watch all of them and then give a very detailed review to a very drunk Crowley in his hotel room at the end of the day (aka never before 6am).
After the Second Coming, already living together in the cottage, Crowley will randomly remember that week and ask Aziraphale if he wants to go on a quick vacation and give Vegas a second spin. Aziraphale packs his bags in 35 minutes.
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spdrvyn · 11 months
Text
parched — MIGUEL O'HARA
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(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))
READ PART 2 HERE.
You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.
He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.
Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.
In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.
You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.
Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.
At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.
It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.
You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.
The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.
Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.
A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.
Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?
Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.
You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—
There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.
As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.
In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.
He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."
Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.
He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.
Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.
"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."
You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.
Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.
Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.
For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."
Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.
You knew exactly what was going to come next.
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nonotnolan · 3 months
Text
The Ends Justify The Means
As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman
"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."
Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.
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I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.
Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."
"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"
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"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."
I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.
"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."
----------------------------------------------
"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.
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"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.
Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."
I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.
"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.
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mncxbe · 5 months
Note
Heyy hope you're doing well!! I'm not sure if you have done this before and sorry if you did but could I request akutagawa and reader fucking after a really long time? Like the reader was on a really long mission out of Yokohama or with her friends or whatever which causes Akutagawa to....you know be pent up after being away from his s/o for so long and super needy. I just feel like he would absolutely pounce on them once they return lol!!
oof oof yes anon you cooked a good idea👀 tbh I see him being super impatient and needy but he's too prideful to show it at first. but anyway I hope you like this hihi♡♡
°☆○
Teasing♡
𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ Aku degrading you lil bit (use of word slut)
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Akutagawa's patience was starting to wear off with each torturous second that passed. It's been two hours since you got home from your trip to Kobe and you didn't so much as lay a finger on him.
Naturally, you hugged him as you entered your shared apartment; shopping bags hanging loosly from your arms, luggage rolling behind you on its little wheels, but nothing besides that.
And oh, how cruel you were to him. You knew how much he missed you, how your two weeks absence has been utterly unbearable, how pent up and needy he was. You noticed his bulge the moment you entered your apartment yet still did your best to avoid granting him the sweet release he needed.
You busied yourself with unpacking the luggage, took your time with a boiling hot shower and, pouring yourself a glass of wine, lounged on the couch.
"Come on, sit" you urged him with a sly smirk on your face, innocently patting the empty spot beside you "I've got so many thing to tell you about my trip"
And so Akutagawa sat himself next to you and listened absentmindedly to you rambling on about your vacation. He couldn't even focus on what you were saying; he was too focused on the way your pretty lips wrapped around the brim of your glass. It should've been his cock instead.
At some point you noticed the glazed look in his eyes and chuckled lightly, placing a hand atop his thigh.
"Something wrong sweetie?" you asked, voice tinged with mirth.
Your boyfriend scoffed in response and gave you a suggestive glance. "What do you think, hm, sweetie?" he replied begrudgingly, purposefully articulating the last word.
"Ya know. If you want something you should just ask for it" you continued teasing, raising the glass to your lips.
But Akutagawa wasn't a man of many words and his pride didn't allow him to indulge your little games, to beg you to take care of him; so he simply took what he wanted from you.
As for now your face was pressed against the pillows on your bed, back bent into a perfect arch as he drilled his cock inside you. His body was stretched along your back, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin and you could clearly make out every little moan and grunt that rolled past his lips, his hot breath dripping all over your neck and cheeks.
"Ryuu~ fuck baby s'too much" you babbled out between soft moans, fingers clawing at the damp sheets beneath you.
"Shut up" he spat, voice laced with annoyance as his thrusts grew deeper and faster. "All you did tonight was talk, talk, talk like a broken record. Shut up and take me like the good little slut you are"
Pearly tears pooled at your lashline as your walls fluttered around him. You weren't used to this side of him, so demanding and mean but you didn't complain at all. The tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot with each thrust, making you see entire constellations.
One of his hands came to rest on the small of your back, deepening your arch in an attempt to ground himself as he picked up the pace.
"Ya like that sweetie? Being fucked dumb on my cock? Bet you missed it these past weeks you desperate slut"
You were too far gone to utter any clever remark about how he was the needy one, not you; so you resumed to mumbling a mhm as you closed your eyes shut and bit down on your bruised lip.
Your boyfriend buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly, the warmth of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. He was close, desperately chasing his own release and you knew it.
You managed to find the arm that supported the weight of his body and brushed your fingers against his. He took the hint and placed his hand on top of yours, fingers entertwining with your own as he squeezed them tightly.
"You close too baby? Wanna cum?" he uttered between ragged breaths, any hint of malice in his voice now gone and you nodded.
"Need to cum f'you please"
"Then go on. No one's stopping you baby you've earned it" he urged you and on cue you gushed around him, spasming walls milking him dry.
"Shiiit~ fuck sweetie" he groaned as he pressed his hips flush against your ass, spilling his load inside you. His arm finally gave away and he toppled to the side, laying beside you, your hand still in his as he drew little circles on it with his thumb.
"Thank you baby. I really needed this" he huffed, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and you shivered lightly, still coming down from your high.
"Anytime" Your skin tingled as he wrapped an arm around your waist and breathing against your neck, mumbled a soft 'I love you, missed you so much' before closing his eyes. Weariness took over your body too and soon enough you drifted into a deep slumber in his arms.
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jungle-angel · 6 months
Text
The Snow Song (Bob Floyd x Reader)
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Summary: It's a shitty, frigid night and your son is restless due to the noise, but in the dark of winter, Bob always shines a light for you and your family
Tagging: @bobfloydsbabe
The wind continued to howl outside, rattling the gutters and spraying snow against the windows of your home, yet you and Bob remained snug in your bed, the whole house warmer than ever.
"Alright so correct me if I'm wrong," Bob said, wiggling his feet underneath Pumpkin so that she would move to your end of the bed. "But when we get back from vacation in January, we're dissecting The Silmarillion right?"
"Yep," you chuckled.
"Oh fuck me," he sighed.
"Gladly," you answered cheekily.
"You do realize that book is almost five inches thick right?"
"I do Bob but that's beside the point," you answered. "The main lesson block on Tolkien is gonna last more than four weeks anyways."
Bob had been about to say something when the wind began to howl even louder, the whimpering cries on the baby monitor growing a little bit louder. You had been about to get up, pushing aside the books, notebooks and papers splayed across the bed, but Bob's gentle hand guided you back to your spot.
"I've got him (y/n) don't worry about it," Bob assured you.
You watched your husband, in only his tight grey boxers, leave the room for a minute or two, only to come back with the baby who slept in the nursery room next door. Auggie's tiny little form was snuggled against Bob's well muscled chest, covered by his soft blue baby blanket and his Dumbo elephant lovey clutched in his tiny hand.
"Shhhh, my sweet boy it's ok," Bob whispered to the frightened little baby who curled into him. "It's just the wind."
You couldn't explain it, but you felt a warmth beginning to fill you, seeing Bob gently bouncing your son in his arms and softly singing to him as the wind continued to pelt your windows. His cries quieted once Bob began to sing, his lips ghosting against Auggie's tiny, sensitive little ears.
"May it be an evening star Shines down upon you May it be when darkness falls Your heart will be true You walk a lonely road Oh, how far you are from home
Mornie utulie Believe and you will find your way Mornie alantie A promise lives within you now
May it be the shadow's call will fly away May it be your journey on to light the day When the night is overcome You may rise to find the sun
Mornie utulie Believe and you will find your way Mornie alantie A promise lives within you now
A promise lives within you now"
You felt your eyes getting a little misty. Bob had such a beautiful voice when he sang that even the music teachers at the school had commended him, especially Mr. Sheppard, the choir teacher. To hear him singing to Auggie, your precious little angel, filled you with nothing but pure love for your husband and son.
"Alright buddy," Bob said, drawing the little nesting cradle to the foot of the bed. "Time to go back to sleep."
Bob very carefully lowered Auggie into the nesting cradle, his tiny form all snug and cozy in the warm, cushioned flannel bedding that fit his little form. Bob placed his blue blankie over him and tucked him in, the baby sucking away happily on his pacifier and clutching his Dumbo elephant lovey in his little arms.
"Bob that was beautiful," you croaked, wiping away a tear.
"Oh sweetheart," he chuckled, drawing you into his arms. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
You broke into a laugh as you and Bob cleared away your teacher materials and set them aside on the nightstand. Bob turned out the lights and wriggled his foot again, a signal for Pumpkin to go wherever she needed. With a meow, she slipped into Auggie's bed and curled up beside him, the whole house falling asleep amidst the storm that raged outside.
"Love you Mrs. Floyd," Bob mumbled, kissing your cheek.
"I love you too Mr. Floyd," you whispered back.
Your fingers laced together as his head came to rest against yours, the both of you warm under the thick quilts, flannel sheets and the duvet that kept you both warm.
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sen-ya · 22 days
Text
@heart-pirates-week || Day 3 || Penguin
Peng gets a third thing I had a lot of thoughts abt him while I made Heart Pirates Week stuff. Puttin it here for now so I can add it to the queue, I'll put it on Ao3 when I'm not on vacation lol. Previous Peng comics I've done (which I will also link once I am not on vacation lol) recommended before this, but not necessary.
take care
Summary:
“Where’re Beps and Cap?” “Dunno, think they went a few villages over looking for some nerd shit.”
or
teen peng & shachi start unpacking a few things
Warnings: implied child abuse/neglect
Word Count: 1669
“Where’re Beps and Cap?”
Penguin glanced around the open room the four teens had been calling home. It was run down, the wood floor scuffed and littered with what debris Law hadn’t already cleared. He was the only one who seemed invested in tidying the place so the process had become long and drawn out, with periodic full days dedicated to cleaning where Law would use what he could of his powers to move heavy things and direct the other three on how to best scrub the floor or mend the roof. What was left now was one large room that was half-tidy, loosely segmented into a corner for sleeping, a corner for eating, a corner for lounging, and a corner full of books and papers for Law and Bepo’s research. 
“Dunno, think they went a few villages over looking for some nerd shit,” Shachi shrugged from his spot in the lounging area. He took a long drag of the joint he was holding before holding it up as an offer. Wordlessly, Penguin made his way to sit beside him and easily took the smoke. Shachi sniffed and pushed his sunglasses up on his head, using them to hold back his bangs which he’d been meaning to cut for months at this point. He was crouched over some papers, clearly stolen from the research corner and flipped to their blank sides. He was scribbling flowing patterns, his hand turned black from the charcoal he sketched with. 
Penguin tilted his head, leaning in to get a better look. Shachi cast him a sideways glance. “Thinkin’ about our Jolly Roger,” he explained, turning the page so his friend could see better. “Cap gave me some ideas he had, hearts and shit like that. Real creative.” He huffed a laugh. Strewn across the page were decorative hearts, their lines swirling in where the curves met. Penguin smiled warmly at the drawings, his finger hovering over a few while he ghosted the outlines, careful not to touch the charcoal. Shachi held his head a little higher with pride at the approval.
“But this ain’t it,” he proclaimed with excitement, turning to grab a few papers he’d tossed to the side. He spread them out in front of them messily, showing off five or six pages of simplified, wide smiles. “Cap said hearts and you know what he was thinkin’.” Penguin gave a knowing nod. “So I was thinkin’ about that story he told us, the way that guy smiled at him and whatever. He was even smilin’ a little thinking about it. Anyway. Think he’ll like ‘em?”
“Yeah. Thoughtful,” Penguin beamed. Shachi scoffed and rolled his eyes, shoving his shoulder into his friend a little harder than he needed to. Penguin shoved him right back, and before long they were pushing each other back and forth, snickering as they play fought. 
“Don’t say dumb shit like that,” Shachi huffed, though it was clear he was pleased that the other boy could tell he’d spent time on his little project. He gave Penguin a final shove on his head, leaving a nearly solid black handprint on his hat. That only made Shachi’s grin widen and he snatched the hat away.
“What—!” Penguin lunged for it, Shachi quickly scrambling to his feet and running across the room.
“Calm down, you don’t need it right now!” Shachi laughed, turning on the faucet of the sink in their ‘eating’ corner. The delay in the water actually coming out was such that Penguin was able to cross the room and very nearly reclaim the hat before the other boy shoved it under the icy stream, rinsing the charcoal off his hands and the hat in the same go.
“Yes I do,” Penguin pouted, arms tight across his body with his chin pressed firmly into his chest. 
Shachi rolled his eyes, turning the water off and slinging the hat over the faucet. He flicked his wet hands at his friend’s face, causing him to startle backwards and look up. Their eyes met and Shachi frowned at the shame making a home on Penguin’s face. “Seriously?” he asked, a little hurt. “It’s just me.” 
Penguin’s gaze dropped, his hand shooting up to cover his right eye. The burn and accompanying scar that was there was long healed, leaving a distinct gap in his eyebrow and redness around his ever swollen eye. The iris was clouded, he hadn’t seen out of it in a few years at this point. All he offered as a response was a small shrug before beginning to step away. 
He didn’t make it far. Shachi’s hands, still icy from the tap, wormed their way to Penguin’s cheeks. His grip was firm as he forced eye contact. 
“You don’t gotta cover your face all the time,” he said sternly. Penguin tried to look around, desperately wanting to be anywhere but here. “I’m right! Don’t act like I’m not. Why are you ashamed of this stupid thing?” He jutted his chin towards the scar. Penguin only clawed at Shachi’s hands, trying his best to squirm away. 
The subject had come up a handful of times since it’d happened, but each time his apparent discomfort had gotten the other boy to drop the subject. Maybe it was because they were a little older now, or maybe it was because they were a little intoxicated, but this time Shachi didn’t back down. “It’s ‘cause you got it for me, isn’t it?”
Penguin’s good eye blew wide. “No,” the word was choked. “No, no.” His hands shot up, mirroring the gesture Shachi was holding firm. He shook his head as much as he could in the other’s grasp, his eye squeezing shut. An image sprung to his mind, one of a much younger ginger haired boy, stomach growling. He was a ball of well deserved anger, tightly wound and never afraid to spring. He understood when Penguin was quiet, knew that well fed and well cared for had different meanings. So of course Penguin had to squirrel some of that food away to the only person he felt understood him. Alone and in need — of care, of warmth, of companionship. 
There was one thing he would never regret, and that was the reason behind his injury.
But that didn’t make him proud of it. Didn’t make the waves of powerlessness the scar brought on any easier to weather. Didn’t make him feel less that he should have left sooner, didn’t make him feel less weak for not being able to fight back. There were so many things tied up in what he saw when he looked in a mirror. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t there. Hide it away to avoid people staring in a way that reminded him they could see it. 
Shachi had a tear in the corner of his eye, and if it weren’t for that anyone would have thought he was absolutely livid. But Penguin knew better, and he felt his heart fracturing as he recognized guilt in his friend’s stare. “I’d do it again,” he muttered. Then, confidently, “I’d do it a million times if it meant you’re taken care of.”
Shachi’s eyesbrows knit together even tighter as the tear fell free, and after that they kept coming. “I told you he’d kick your ass,” he squeaked.
“Didn’t care.”
“You fucking should have.”
Another rigid shake of the head. 
“You’re only a year older than me,” Shachi tried. “I don’t need taking care of.”
At that Penguin blinked, considered it for a moment. “I know,” he said carefully. “…But I want to take care of you.”
Shachi studied his face, confused. Penguin knew he was doing it again, giving his friend that look. The one he knew gave him away, the one he was certain Shachi had yet to find a name for. “Actually,” Penguin muttered, swallowing nervously. “I think…?” He looked around, confidence wavering. He screwed his eyes shut to make it easier and blurted, “I think I wanna kiss you. Can I?”
Silence.
Too long of a silence.
After what felt like ages he cracked his eye open and he could see Shachi’s gears turning. There wasn’t hesitance, per se, but questions he seemed to be working through in his mind rapid fire. Finally, he tilted his head, gave a shrug.
“Sure.”
It was quick, awkward, new. 
When it was over both of them dropped their hands back to their sides, studying the person in front of them. Penguin’s heart thrummed, and he smiled listlessly. As Shachi pressed his lips together in a tight line, evaluating the situation, he realized he couldn’t recall ever seeing such a grin on his friend’s face. After a few more moments of consideration he offered, “I think I liked that.”
Before either could think on it more their front door slammed open, Law and Bepo strolling in. “Yeah, just put them on my desk,” Law was saying, nodding to the appropriate corner over the stack of books he had in his hands. Behind him, Bepo carried twice as many.
Shachi leaned to the side to look around Penguin. “Sup nerds?” he called. Law flipped him off in response.
“The woman at the library was so nice!” Bepo cooed, easily sliding his book stack where Law had asked. “She saw how much we got through while we were there, so she let us borrow twice as many books.”
“I’m more surprised that they had this much worth reading,” Law mused. He sounded calm, but it was clear to the other boys that he was just as giddy about the development as Bepo. 
“What are they?” Shachi made his way to their corner, carelessly picking up a book to flip through. Law snapped at him to be careful, and quickly the three of them started to stir up a commotion.
Penguin sighed a chuckle, hanging back to watch the show as he gave himself a moment to consider the afternoon. 
Yeah, he decided. He thought he liked it too.
42 notes · View notes
heli-writes · 6 months
Text
Seven summers, part 3.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader
Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Series Masterlist
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dearest y/n,
School's incredibly boring. The only fun thing going on is that tournament. I do love seeing Harry Potter struggle. He totally deserves to have to fight that dragon. He's cheated his way into this tournament anyway. Not that I'd like to join. No prize money and fame in the world is worth fighting a real-life dragon for.
Blaise is seeing that girl he went to the Yule Ball with. It's disgusting, really. They're always standing in the hallway making googly eyes at one another. Also, before you say it, I'm not jealous because they get to see each other and we don't. Plus, they're nothing like us. They haven't even kissed. They're probably like your archnemesis, that Becky girl. If they don't see each other over the summer holiday, they probably lose interest and break up before the new school year starts, too. Meanwhile, we rarely see each other and we're together just fine.
Talking about it, would it be possible for you to send me a picture? It's not like I have the desperate wish to look at you every day but the others don't believe me about having a girlfriend. They think I invented you because I don't want to come in second to Blaise. It's really ridiculous but it would probably shut them up.
In all honesty, though, I can't wait until summer comes along. Not seeing you has been a lot harder since Christmas. Summer just can't come fast enough.
Love, Draco
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Fifth summer, July.
Y/n can't wait to see Draco again. It's the first week of the summer holidays and the weather is fantastic. A few weeks ago, Draco and she agreed that y/n would come to visit him at his family's home. Y/n was a bit reluctant to agree because she feared that her little muggle secret would be blown if she stayed with a wizard's family. Luckily for her, Draco canceled just before school was over with little explanation why she couldn't come over anymore. Instead, Draco proposed to spend a weekend in Salisbury, a town a bit away from his parent's house. He promised to take care of accommodation since he had to cancel last minute.
Y/n probably should have a bad feeling about this. She lied to her parents and said she is visiting her school friend Olivia whose parents have a vacation home in Wiltshire. Y/n's parents know Olivia and her parents well since the two girls often spend time studying together for big tests, so they don't question the whole thing. All in all, y/n has always been a girl who followed the rules and never gave her parents a reason to mistrust her. Y/n tells herself that it's fine. She trusts Draco and he wouldn't do anything to hurt her or get her into trouble. It seems as if he himself is afraid to get into trouble with his father and therefore is careful about what he does or doesn't do. Plus, if the whole thing turns out to be a disaster, she just takes a train home.
Y/n takes a deep breath while she stands on the platform and waits for the train. There's a heavy feeling in her stomach that she can't shake off the entire way to Salisbury. When she gets off the train, she looks around unsettled. What if he didn't come? What if he had to cancel again last minute? Worried thoughts race through her head and she can barely register what she sees around herself. Suddenly, a hand grips her arm softly. "... y/n? Are you deaf?", a familiar voice says. Y/n is ripped out of her spiral and looks up to where Draco stands. "I've been calling you all the way from over there.", he tells her. Y/n takes a shaky, relieved breath before answering: "Oh, I'm sorry, I really didn't notice you." Draco gives her a soft smile, the kind of smile she's been missing since Christmas. "It's alright. I'm just glad you came. For a moment, I thought you didn't step out of the train.", he says as he pulls her into his arms. Y/n hugs him back and relief overtakes her. "I also thought you maybe didn't come.", she confesses. Draco leans his cheek against her hair. "Why that? I promised you I'd come. Actually, I'm really glad to get away from everything for a while.", he tells her. Y/n breaks the hug apart. "Oh? Did something happen? Is that why you needed to cancel meeting at your place?", she asks him. Draco shifts his weight uncomfortably. "Yeah, haven't you read it in the paper? There was an accident at the tournament.", he replies. "Oh.", is all that y/n manages to say. Somehow, she doesn't like the way he said 'accident'. Y/n shakes it off and gives his arm a pat. "Hey, it's summer! And we have a whole weekend to do whatever we want. Let's not dwell on dark things!", she tries to cheer him up. Draco gives her another smile and nods.
"Right, let's go! I'd say we get you settled first and then we plan our weekend over a good lunch.", he says and takes y/n's luggage. "Yeah, so where are we staying?", y/n asks him. "A family friend has an inn in town. We booked a room.", he tells her. "We? As in your parents and you?", y/n asks surprised. Somehow she finds it hard to believe that Draco's parents would allow him to go on a weekend trip with a girl they barely know. "Yes, though I didn't specify which friend I'm taking. My parents have been so busy the past few weeks, they didn't bother to ask.", he points out with a mischievous grin. Y/n giggles. Seems like Draco is not afraid to get a little bit in trouble. "Are your parents ok with this?", he asks her, and y/n proceeds to tell him about Olivia. "I don't think my parents would approve of me staying alone with a boy at an inn.", she ponders. "Well, we have two separate beds. There was no way I could've found a believable reason why I need a double bed with a friend.", Draco points out. Y/n has to laugh. "Oh, but you thought about it?", she asks him cheekily. Draco's ears turn a bit red.
When they stand in front of the 'inn', y/n asks herself if Draco was joking earlier and if this trip was really a good idea. They're standing in front of a rundown, seemingly deserted, house. "If there are ghosts, I'm not stepping inside of this place.", y/n tells Draco. Draco only nudges her and says: "Have a little faith, it's a great place.". He knocks on the door and loudly says "Clabbert". With an abrupt swing, the door opens and a small, very gloomy-looking old man opens the door. He musters the two of them up and down, seemingly disapproving. Y/n shudders. The man has long, unkempt hair and clothes that look like from three centuries ago. If she met this guy on the train, she'd definitely switch compartments. "Malfoy?", he asks in a grumbling voice. "Yes, my mother sent you an owl a few days ago.", Draco tells him. "Hm. And her? She smells like a muggle.", the man asks and gives y/n a mean glance. Y/n wonders what a muggle smells like, when Draco swiftly answers: "My cousin. We're visiting an aunt in town, but she doesn't have enough space for us.". Y/n's surprised at how effortless Draco can lie. The man grunts and retreats inside, leaving the door open. Draco gives y/n a sign to follow him.
Y/n really expects the worst when she enters the house. Naked walls, rubble, and a freezing breeze. However, when she enters the house, she is met with warm candlelights and old-fashioned but cozy decorations and carpets. The man leads the two of them up an old staircase. Draco tries to lift both his and y/n's luggage, but y/n quickly takes her own suitcase. The man hands Draco a key and points towards a door at the end of the hall. "Last one on the left. Breakfast is at 8:00 am sharp.", he just tells them and stomps down the staircase again. "Charming.", y/n comments dryly. "That's just old Goover. Don't bother with him.", Draco chuckles. "Goover? That's his real name?", y/n asks while they walk towards their room. "Dunno. That's just what my parents call him.", Draco shrugs. At the door, Draco starts fumbling with the key and tries to open the door. "And he's your parents' friend?", y/n asks surprised. Draco's father looked so sophisticated. It's hard for y/n to believe that he's friends with a guy like Goover. Draco manages to open the door and pushes it open. "Yeah... uh they used to be in this club together. Here we are! What do you think?", he quickly tries to change the topic.
Y/n enters the room. The room has the same old-fashioned style as the rest of the house. There's a fire burning in the fireplace, filling the room with a comfortable warmth that immediately makes her drowsy. "I take the bed close to the wall!", she announces and throws herself onto the bed. "Sure.", Draco says and settles onto the other. Y/n starts unpacking some things from her suitcase while Draco watches her.
Y/n rolls over to face Draco and she props her head on her hand and says: "So, what now? Lunch?“. Draco nods. "Yes, I know a good place. C'mon!“, he says and stands up. Y/n pushes herself from the bed and grabs her purse. "Let's go.“, she smiles.
Somehow y/n expected to choose a fancy restaurant with steak or filet. His family does not look like they eat the same way they dress, namely expensive. However, Draco takes her to a fish and chips shop that looks like it's been opened somewhere in the 70s. The smell of fryer oil hits them in the face upon entering. An elderly old, white couple stands behind the counter. "G'day my lady.“, says the man and gives y/n an overexaggerated bow and a toothy grin. "Och, George. Be a little bit more serious around our customers.“, his wife says and nudges him. Y/n takes an instant liking to the couple. They remind her of her grandparents who live in the Yorkshire Dales and have a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. They used to have a farm with sheep there but since they retired they gave away most of the animals. "We'd like some fish and chips, please.“, Draco says as he walks up to the counter. "Then you're at the right place, lad. You want some mashed peas, too?“, the man asks. "No, thank you. Y/n?“, Draco says as he turns to y/n. "Yes, please! And some vinegar, too!“, y/n cheers. They pay for their order and sit down to wait for the food.
"So, tell me about the accident at school. What happened?“, y/n asks Draco as they wait. Draco looks down at his hands and solemnly says: "A student died in the tournament.“. Y/n wished she'd be surprised but everything she heard about the school screamed deathtrap to her. Basiliks, soul-sucking creatures, dragons. Nothing of that screams 'safe' to her. The only thing she's surprised about is that this didn't happen earlier. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was he a friend?“, she says compassionately. Draco shakes his head. "No, I barely knew him. Was in a different house and all.“, he tells her. Y/n crooks her head in thought. Considering the fact that he didn't know the guy, the whole thing left Draco pretty shaken, y/n thinks. She also notices how he doesn't really want to talk about it, so she quickly changes the topic. "How were your finals? I feel like I could've done better.“, she tells him. Draco gladly accepts the topic change and starts talking about his own exams. "The finals were terrible! I mean the results were fine but I just hate the exam days.“, he complains. Y/n nods in agreement, happy that they found a common topic. "Yes, they're just so stressful. It's like how am I supposed to write three exams in one day? My head is already smoking after the first one!“, she adds. "True. Which subject did you find the worst this year?“, Draco asks her. Y/n hesitates for a moment. She knows that they have completely different subjects at Draco's school. Witchy subjects. Does she lie now yet again or does she tell him the truth? She decides on the latter. "Algebra. It's my worst result. I was truly desperate when I saw the exam.“, she tells him truthfully. Draco frowns and gives her a confused look. "My school teaches muggle subjects.“, y/n tries to explain. "Why would they do that?“, he asks. Y/n has to think about that for a moment. "Well, muggle subjects are about real-world stuff, so it makes sense to learn about that too, you know?“, she tries to argue. "Real-world stuff? You consider the muggle world real but the wizarding world not?“, Draco asks her confused. Y/n shifts in her seat uncomfortably. Yes, it's exactly like that. She lives in the muggle world, her reality, and the wizarding world may be real but it is just some far-away fairytale world for her. However, that's not something she can tell Draco. Suddenly, she feels very hot and she can feel some sweat rolling down her neck. "I just mean the muggle world is as real as the wizarding world. So, we should learn something about both worlds since we can't just ignore the existence of the other.“, she explains. Draco ponders on this for a second and y/n is proud that she gave a clever answer. It's something she truly believes in. Muggles should learn about wizards and the other way around. Right now, muggles and wizards just live next to each other and y/n wonders what might happen when they start living together, in one society.
Before Draco has the chance to reply, the man behind the counter interrupts them and brings over their plates. "Bon appetit, my lovebirds!“, he says and winks at them while he puts their plates down. Somewhere in the back, y/n can hear the woman groan "Och, George! Leave them alone!“ which makes her chuckle. In the end, he's not wrong, she thinks. Y/n and Draco thank them and pull their plates towards them. "Enjoy!“ she tells Draco and he gives her a smile. For a few minutes, they eat in silence. Y/n hasn't had some real fatty, unhealthy fish and chips in a while and she truly enjoys it. With a mouthful of fish she groans: "Man, this is so good!“. Draco gives her a grin and swallows. "It is, isn't it? It's the best fish and chips in the whole of England!“, he tells her. Y/n nods in agreement. "You know, my parents used to take me to Cornwall every summer holiday. On the last day, we always had fish and chips in this crappy old shop at the coast. This reminds me a lot of it.“, she narrates. "Why are they not taking you anymore?“, Draco asks her. Y/n shrugs. "I don't know. They're both busy with work, I guess.“, she answers. Draco pushes some food around on his plate. "You have a good relationship with your parents?“, he continues to ask. Y/n thinks about this for a second. "I guess. I mean we don't argue a lot, unlike other kids in my class. It's mostly because I bring home good grades and don't act rebellious, I think. But it's not like we spent that much time with each other, just around the house for meals and stuff. And you and your parents?“, y/n replies. Draco continues to push his food around and takes some time before he answers. "It's similar but my parents are also very strict, especially my dad. Even when I'm not acting up, sometimes I just say something he doesn't approve of and he gets pissed off.“, he mumbles. Y/n already thought that's what their relationship was like.
She is ready to move on from the topic when Draco suddenly asks: "Do you sometimes feel like your parents do stuff you'd never do?“. "I mean, yes. My mom always wipes off the soles of her shoes after entering the house. I'd never do that. I just take them off. I only wear them outside anyways, why bother wiping them all the time?“, she says. Draco shakes his head and frowns. "No, not like that. I mean like... I don't know... bad things.“, he tries to specify. Y/n crooks her head. "Depends. You mean like tax evasion bad or murder bad?“, she asks. Draco shrugs. "Something in between?“, he offers.Y/n leans back in her chair and looks up to the ceiling. She is trying to remember if her parents or any family members ever did something that falls into that category. "Well... my uncle supports the alt-right movement, at least in spirit. He doesn't do much besides having a big mouth.“, she tells him. Draco looks a bit confused. "You know the type of people who'd like to oppress people of color and women? Like, he told me that abortions and illegal immigration should be punished with the death penalty at a family dinner.“, she explains. Draco nods relieved, then looks at his plate again. "Are your parents like that sometimes?“, y/n asks him softly. "Hm, yeah.“, Draco tells her almost embarassedly. Y/n reaches over the table and takes his hand. "Don't worry about it. Important is that you don't get involved with stuff like that.“, she says and squeezes his hand.
Suddenly, having lost all appetite, y/n proposes: "Hey, why don't we get out of here? Let's have a look around town and discuss what we want to do for the rest of the day“. Draco agrees and they both get up. They bid the nice couple goodbye. Y/n feels relieved when the fresh, warm summer air hits her face. "I'm probably going to smell like a deep fryer for the whole next week.“, she says while sniffing her clothes. Draco snickers and casually takes her hand. Y/n has to blush a bit and doesn't look at him. She also doesn't let go, though. Together, they stroll through the narrow streets of the medieval town. They decide that they take a walk along the Avons and check out the Market Walk. Y/n stops at a bridge and yells: "Draco, look!“. A family of ducks are merrily paddling along the shore. Draco walks up behind her and places a hand on her lower back. He stands so closely behind her that y/n can feel his chest slightly pressed against her side. Carefully, she leans back into him and Draco puts his arms around her, pulling her close. He leans his head against hers. "They're so cute.“, y/n whispers. Her heart suddenly beats up into her throat. "You're cute.“, Draco whispers back and strokes over her hair with his lips. Y/n twists in his arms so that she can look up to him with wide, almost expecting eyes. Draco softly presses a kiss to her forehead. When y/n doesn't pull back after it, his gaze flickers towards her lips. Y/n leans a bit closer to him and Draco lowers his lips so he can properly kiss her. Draco's lips are soft on hers. His hands find their way into her hair and he pulls her head closer, deepening the kiss. Y/n feels as if she is pudding in his arms. For a moment, she forgets that they are standing on a busy street. Draco pulls back and looks at her for a moment. "I've been waiting to do this since you stepped out of the train.“, he tells her and y/n has to giggle. "Well, you have a whole weekend to do this a couple of times more.“, she teases him. Draco raises an eyebrow and asks: "Is that an invitation?“. Y/n gives him a peck and answers: "Yes, it definitely is“.
They let go of each other and walk to the market hall hand in hand. Y/n feels like she could fly and all worries from this morning are long forgotten. The couple strolls through the market hall. Y/n stops at some shops and picks up some trinkets and books. Draco sneers at her affection for romance novels and y/n makes fun of him for being forced to read the great classics by his parents. Eventually, they have tea in a small tea room. They sit crammed in a little nook, holding hands under the table. The women serving in the café watch the two giggling and putting their heads together with soft smiles. It remembers them of a time long ago when they were first in love. On their way back, they stop at a Tesco and get some sandwiches. They have their dinner at the shore of the river and watch the sunset together. When y/n grows cold, Draco pulls her into his lap as an excuse to warm her up. However, all he does is steal some kisses. Something that y/n doesn't mind he does. When the streetlamps light up, Draco helps y/n up and they make their way back to the inn. They stop holding hands a block before the inn and create some distance between them. Obviously, Goover is not supposed to think that some cousins are romantically involved with each other.
Back at their room, y/n takes her toilet bag and disappears into the bathroom to have a long nice shower. She wants the smell of fish and chips out of her hair. Returning dressed in her pajamas, Draco also retreats to the bathroom. She uses the time to text her parents that she arrived safely and how she spent her day. She quickly puts the device away when she hears Draco opening the door again. A towel lays over his shoulders and water drips from his hair. Y/n thinks he looks marvelous. Draco plumps onto his bed and dries his hair. "So, what do you want to do before going to bed?“, he asks her. "I brought some card games if you wanna play.“, y/n proposes. She ends up teaching him Skip-Bo and UNO. Being a terrible loser, Draco demands compensation after she hits him with a 4+ for the fifth time. They end up making up on the floor between their beds. Firstly, their kisses are sweet and careful, still testing each other's boundaries. With time, their kisses grow more heated and longing. Draco pulls her into his lap again and his hands start roaming her body. He slides his hand under her shirt, stroking against the soft skin of her lower back. Y/n's hand messes up his hair. At some point, Draco's leg falls asleep. In an attempt to shift their position, his long legs hit the nightstand and the vase on it tips over with a loud 'clonk'. They let go for a moment, looking bewilderedly at the source of the sound. When the vase doesn't fall onto the floor, they are just about to continue when there is a loud knock on the door. "What are you children doing in there? You pay for what you break!“, Goover's agitated voice rings through the door. The two quickly dart apart, scared the man will open the door and see them in a compromising position. Draco clears his throat and quickly yells: "Sorry, I walked against the nightstand. Nothing's broken“. There is shuffling in front of his door, then silence. Draco and y/n look at each other with wide eyes, and then they both have to laugh. Y/n quickly brushes through her hair with her hands in hopes of looking more presentable. Draco shakes his head and chuckles. "Maybe that was our cue. Probably best to leave it at that for the night.“, he says. Y/n nods. She's a bit glad that they got interrupted. Kissing Draco like that felt good but she also had no idea where they were going with this and if she really wanted to go there, wherever that was.
After brushing their teeth, they settle into their retrospective beds and turn the lights off. After the conversation dies down, y/n lies wide awake in her bed. She turns over to Draco and listens to his breath. She stares into the darkness, hoping to make our Draco's shape. Eventually, Draco turns towards her and she notices that he's still awake. "You know“, Draco suddenly whispers into the dark, "I kinda really wish we had that double bed right now“. Y/n giggles at that. "I could come over“, she whispers back. "You could.“, Draco agrees. Y/n bites her lip in contemplation. "But no funny business?“, she carefully asks. "No funny business.“, Draco agrees again. Y/n slips out of her bed. The floor is cold beneath her naked feet and she hurries to get under Draco's blanket. He puts the blanket up and y/n cuddles herself into his chest. Draco pulls the blanket and his arms over her. Y/n can hear his beating heart. Draco puts his hand into her hair, softly messaging her scalp. The warmth and Draco's hand against her head start to make y/n dizzy with sleep. She nuzzles into his neck and slowly lets sleep take over.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tag list: @gypsylilim @caffeine-addict-slug @huiiline @rclector @am0iur
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132 notes · View notes
ovaryacted · 3 months
Note
For that prompt game thingy
99 with leon x slasher reader maybe :0
Hey!! Thank you for requesting! I'm literally so sorry this took me such a long time to write and it turned out much longer than I anticipated. I've never really done anything dark-ish or with suspense, so I wanted to take a shot at it and see what my brain came up with but of course, it took me a while lol. I think for this one probably RE2R Leon, just him as a regular cop, and he lives in a city so dealer’s choice. Anyways, hopefully, this is interesting cause I’m a little nervous lolz. :) [ prompt game ]
99. “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” RE2R Leon x reader [cw: slightly dark themes, mentions of body parts & violence] - 1.5k words
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It hasn't been long since Leon started his new job as a rookie cop, excited was an understatement. Yet it seemed as if the universe had given him the worst possible combination of a new role and what seemed to be someone on a killing spree.
The first case happened a few weeks ago, a young male was reported to be slashed over his torso. It was one knife wound to the upper chest, clean and efficient, followed by another to the lung and one more up the stomach. Leon was on the scene, answering the call of a distressed citizen when they found the body in an alleyway, and the sight was enough to make him nauseous. It was seen as a premeditated murder case, but there were no traces of the perpetrator left behind. No fingerprints, no lost weapons, nothing.
Like a ghost in the wind, it was a dead end.
The more experienced agents took over the investigation, and Leon was back to being a cop. He thought it was over, that he’d be able to go back on patrol duty and ride along in his car.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
The murders became more frequent, almost for show, and the way the deaths were done became more theatric as time passed. Week after week, more people began to disappear from the city, mostly male victims each torn apart in exuberant ways. A gash up the spine, a straight slash across the neck, another had an arm and leg detached from the person's torso. But the main wound on the chest of each victim was the only controlled variable between all of them.
Either way, it seemed like someone was enjoying their time passionately tearing other people apart.
“I just can’t wrap my head around it”, Leon mumbled to himself as you washed up the dishes in the kitchen after dinner. He had been out working on these cases tirelessly, constantly on patrol, and barely been home with you as a result of everything piling up.
“Who just goes around and starts randomly killing people? I mean, this feels like some shit out of a horror movie”, he continued to speak, raising his head to look at the back of your head.
“Some people are just crazy like that. You know how people get inspiration from those crazed fanatics on those cult forums”, you commented, finishing washing the cooking pot you had in the sink and putting it on the drying rack.
“If it was one thing I wasn’t expecting, was to deal with a mass murderer the first few weeks of my damn job”, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as the stress was starting to take its toll.
“Just your luck huh?”, you said with a teasing smirk, wiping the knife you were cleaning with a soapy sponge.
You were almost methodical with the way you handled the blade, watching the suds sliding off of it as you rinsed it, careful not to cut yourself. You dried it with one of the dishtowels you threw to the side, the metal gleaming under the kitchen light. Giving it one last good wipe you put it back in the wooden block along with the rest of your knife collection.
“Maybe what you need is a vacation. Away from this mess. You have some PTO you could take right?”, you asked as you walked towards him, sitting on his lap while he remained seated on the dining room chair. He pondered for a bit, watching how you flicked the ends of his hair and curled it around your finger.
“I mean I do but…the chief might not like it if I left so abruptly. Don’t want to make the wrong impression”, he contemplated it, trying to fight you on your words but it was something on his mind.
“You need a break Leon, from all of this. Say it’s a family emergency or something. I hate seeing you so stressed like this baby”, you pouted at him, lips puckering out as you kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Just a few days, that’s all I’m asking”
He caressed your lower back affectionately as you sat on his lap, feeling your hands squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his chest. The nagging voice in his head kept thinking about your proposition, the image of being away with you and just enjoying his time sounded beyond appealing. It wouldn’t be so bad right? He glanced at you and gave you a small smile.
“A break doesn’t sound too bad. I’ll see if I can snag a couple of days off okay?”, Leon said to you, and you cheered happily at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“We'll go take a little vacation. Just you and me”, your eyes held that promise of excitement as they bore into Leon’s, content that he was at least going to try for your sake.
You were patient as you waited for any sign of Leon possibly getting time off, thinking that you wouldn’t have any luck with the way things were. But the moment you were granted a win once he spoke to the chief, you nearly jumped on top of him from joy. It didn’t take long before you both packed your bags and drove off into the mountains, renting a cabin that would be good for a weekend of leisure. The both of you were excited to finally get away from all the chaos in the city and to just spend some quality time together.
But what you envisioned when it came to a vacation was completely different from what Leon had in mind.
He didn’t recall how it happened. One minute you two were having dinner, eating some steak and potatoes paired with some red wine. The next, his head felt dizzy as he struggled to keep himself upright, calling out your name before his vision faded to black.
Now he found himself with his arms and ankles tied together by some rope, slouched on the floor and disheveled. He didn’t know how he managed to get into this precarious situation, but it was all giving him whiplash. The wood paneling of the walls was different, it was dim and quiet in the cabin and his surroundings were unusual.
Was he back at the cabin? Was he still in the same place with you? Where were you?
His mind was going a mile a minute and his nerves were on high, the skills he’s developed from being a cop going into overdrive to come up with a solution. Leon started looking around, scrabbling to find anything to help him free his hands so he could look for you.
But that’s when he heard it, when your bubbly laughter filtered through the crisp air surrounding him. His ears perked up the sound, perceptive blue eyes observing you diligently as you came into view. There was a dark and twisted grin on your face, something he’s never seen before.
“What the hell is going on?”, he was confused, couldn’t make sense of the current circumstances. But all he wondered was why you looked at him as if he were a meal. Some plaything for your enjoyment.
“Well, I needed to get you out of here. I couldn’t keep having you on my trail sweetheart. That’s when the fun ends”, in your hand was the familiar kitchen blade, shiny and sharpened, gleaming despite the darkness of the room you were both in. It took a second before the realization hit him, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as a wave of overlapping emotions washed over him.
“It was you?”, his eyes widened as he watched you, finally connecting the dots. The slasher he’d been looking for was right under his nose the entire time, so deeply hidden he didn’t even think it was possible. He was sleeping with the devil, and it made his stomach churn.
“Why? Why did you do it?!”, it felt like his entire world was falling apart, his sense of normalcy that he had worked so hard to achieve was gone in the blink of an eye. And he couldn’t do anything to save it.
“Had some things to take care of, needed to get my stress out somehow. Sorry if I have hobbies”, this was all a joke to you, if anything it was entertaining to see Leon suffer.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. Nothing bad has to happen here”, he felt pathetic as he begged, looking at you in hopes of finding any trace of morality left.
All you could do was laugh at him, loud and shameless. You took a step closer, crouching down to his level as you grazed the tip of the knife from his throat up towards his chin. Your gaze darkened and your smile curled, sending a chill down Leon’s spine.
“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”
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minty-fanfic-corner · 2 years
Text
"Harsh Words" [Xiao, pt. 2]
Warning: Angst, mention of blood and injuries
A/N: I'm finally back with part 2! I've finally graduated college, got my school trip and I JUST CAME BACK FROM A FIVE DAYS TRIP/CONVENTION IN TORONTO IM SO DEAD. Anyway, here's finally part 2 of Harsh words with Xiao ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。)
Part 1 here!
Masterlist here!
“Have you heard about Y/N?”
“I haven’t seen the new employee in a while, I hope they're okay.”
“Their family must be worried…”
“Maybe they just went on a vacation!”
That’s what Xiao wanted to believe too. Maybe that you were simply gone on a vacation. It’s been about a week since Xiao had seen you. Since he got mad at you. Since he called you a burden. And oh Archons, he regretted it. Every single day, guilt was making his heart feel heavier and heavier. It was a feeling that the adeptus wasn’t familiar with. Why was his heart so heavy? He had purposefully tried to keep you away to avoid such feelings.  He tried, but he failed. And he tried the wrong thing. Maybe instead of keeping you away, he should have been more understanding. If he were, maybe you wouldn’t be lost right now. Xiao sighed and shook his head to chase his thoughts away. But even then, I couldn’t help but feel the pit of anxiety growing in his stomach. He didn’t think twice before teleporting to the spot where he last saw you.
 As his feet touched the ground, he was surprised by the strong winds that almost knocked him over. The weather had been horrible in the last week. And only now, was he realizing that you were probably fighting with this opponent as well. Without realizing it, Xiao started walking. He didn’t even know where his feet were taking him, they were moving on their own. A strong gut feeling was guiding his legs. Water was slowly creeping in his shoes, as the rain wouldn’t stop falling. He was getting cold. But what about you? If you were still out there, you were at nature’s mercy. And Xiao knew how cruel nature could be at time. Lost in his thoughts and worries, he did not notice the shiny metallic piece on the ground. He only felt it when his foot hit it. Xiao bent down, curious to inspect the object. His heart sank when he recognized it.
It was your weapon.
Or at least, it was a part of it.
It was clearly broken, metallic and wooden pieces scattered all around. It was as if your weapon had exploded. Xiao’s heart was pounding in his chest. There was your weapon, or at least what was left of it. But what had cause it to break like that?? And where were you. The next thing that made Xiao worry even more was the faint smell of blood. It wasn’t a lot, probably not enough for an ordinary human to notice it. But sadly, Xiao was used to its scent and could tell right away what it was and where it came from. Of course, the smell worried him horribly, but at least, he now knew that you were close.
 The next thing that Xiao saw were droplets of blood on the ground. They were permanent red stains on delicate white petals, that proved that a fight had happened. There weren’t many droplets, they were barely noticeable in this weather. But Xiao was about to get sick. Now, he knew that you were injured. He tried to reassure himself. Maybe that it was monster blood, no? But deep down, he knew that it was human blood. And he had to hurry if he wanted to find you alive.
 His breathe got stuck in his throat as your body came into view. Your unconscious form was lying on the ground, under a makeshift shelter. He could also see the wound on your leg that you had tried to cover with some of your clothes, that you had simply torn apart. At this sight, Xiao was quick to be by your side.
“Y/N! Can you hear me??” he asked as he pressed your shoulder, his voice filled with worry.
No reaction.
“Come on Xiao, you must be hungry, no?” Ganyuu asked. “… Well, actually I know that you don’t eat much, but you should rest a little”
His hands then reached your neck, trying to find a pulse. A sigh of relief left Xiao’s lips as he felt your heartbeat. It was weak, but it was there. Of course, it was way too soon to feel any relief. You were alive, but barely. And Xiao had to get you out of here immediately. He didn’t have much knowledge about human health and injuries, he couldn’t try to heal you himself. Not when he could hurt you.  As he picked you up in his arms, you weakly groaned in pain. Xiao hated to see you hurt and to hurt you even more, but he was relieved to see you react to the stimulus.
“No way.” Xiao answered, shaking his head. He was sitting on a chair next to your bed, waiting for you to wake up. It had been almost two days since he found you, and you were still unconscious. Guilt was washing over him everyday, and he hoped you would wake up soon, so he could apologize. So he could tell you how important you were to him and how much he regrets saying those horrible words.
A raspy breath left your lips, but the boy didn’t notice.
“-ao…”
Did he hear it correctly it? Xiao snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you. You were awake, looking at him and trying to sit up in your bed. Seeing this, Xiao quickly got up of his chair to help you up.
“How are you feeling Y/N? Do you need anything? Are you hurt?”
 Your hands were resting on the soft blankets of the bed, and you were looking at them. You didn’t dare to look up to Xiao. Soon enough, tears started to fall down from your eyes onto your hands and the bed sheets, leaving dark spots on the fabric. Seeing this, Xiao was certain that you were hurt.
“I’m going to get a healer Y/N, don’t worry I’ll be quick, I’ll be right ba—”
 But as he started to get up from his seat, you grabbed his wrist. Xiao turned around to see that you were now sobbing. His own heart twisted in his ribcage.
“I’m sorry Xiao… I-I really am sorry…”
“Wh- What are you apologizing for Y/N?”
“For being a burden! I-I’m sorry Xiao I just wanted to help you, but I guess I just made things worst, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I-I really am… I understand if you’re mad, I’ll try to stay away from you as much as I can so I won’t be a burd-“
The mattress sank as someone sat beside you.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
You looked up to see Xiao, who was now sitting next to you.
“I don’t want you to leave Y/N… I’m sorry. I’m not good with humans and their habits… I thought that if you were to come to close to me you’d get hurt. But I was wrong, you got hurt because I was trying to keep you away.” As he said this, he tried to wipe your tears with his thumb. It was clumsy, but the attention warmed your heart.
“I’m sorry Y/N, I promise you’ll never be hurt again.”
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millersdjarin · 1 year
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I Only See Daylight
Chapter Four
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: E (eventually)
Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse
Chapter Length: 4.2k
Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info
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notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)
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i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you
“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually. 
Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour? 
You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state. 
“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask. 
“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.” 
You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?” 
“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out. 
“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.” 
He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”
Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff. 
But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four. 
“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.” 
Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.” 
“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.” 
You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue. 
“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice. 
As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut. 
Oh, Maker, he is adorable. 
“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms. 
The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.” 
“Why am I not surprised?”
Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle. 
You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart. 
You have to look away. 
All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around. 
You���re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground. 
It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time. 
But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest. 
“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area. 
“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 
“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.” 
“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.” 
The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.” 
He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.
It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home. 
As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once. 
Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave. 
Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee. 
“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him. 
The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him. 
You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds. 
“Mando?” You find yourself saying. 
He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid. 
“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?” 
“Where do you want to hear about?” 
“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.” 
For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?” 
And, okay. 
That hits a nerve. 
You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice. 
“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.” 
Quiet again. He’s giving you space. 
You take it, let it sink in. 
Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”
And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.” 
He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor. 
It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.
You don’t want to lie to him. 
You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind. 
And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that. 
No, it’s not that. 
It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.
And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway. 
So. 
“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.” 
Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.
Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.
Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”
And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.
The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands. 
Well.
This is new. 
-
As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better. 
Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too. 
As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.
“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks. 
“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)
“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.” 
Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.” 
He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious. 
“What?” You frown. “But your ship…” 
“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.” 
“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.” 
The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.
You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.” 
The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground. 
Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.
When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.
“What?” You ask. 
“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?” 
“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.
That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang. 
But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore. 
For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots. 
“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon. 
“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless. 
“You sure?” 
“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.” 
Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment. 
Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him. 
Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now. 
The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared. 
But it’s Mando. 
This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime. 
He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks. 
Kriff. You nod, unable to form words. 
The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that. 
And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now. 
Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—
His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.
You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back. 
But then. 
Then. 
As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—
But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip. 
You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows. 
And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.
You look away before he even lowers the helmet again. 
-
Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving. 
That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here. 
But that’s been fine. It’s been safe. 
“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 
You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body. 
His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything. 
Why wouldn’t he have friends?
Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound. 
It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work. 
The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him. 
You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before? 
The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature. 
“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question. 
Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch. 
You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again. 
“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.” 
You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.
“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder. 
“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.” 
With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.” 
You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could. 
“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?” 
He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” 
“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.” 
He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other. 
“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow. 
“Yes.”
“At everyone, or just me?”
He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.” 
Oh. 
The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example. 
You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking. 
He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.” 
“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.” 
Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!? 
“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.
You weren’t expecting that. 
Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?” 
He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.” 
You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.” 
“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.” 
You can’t find a reason to refuse. 
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♡ updates posted Mondays and Thursdays ♡
notes: thank you for reading! all interactions are appreciated as always, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️ as always, the title and lyrics at the start are from taylor swift's "daylight"
taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @iwantjoelmillertoultraviolenceme
if you wanna be on the taglist, let me know! (pls specify if just the taglist for this fic, or the list for all my future fics ❤️)
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frecklystars · 1 month
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im gonna start making doodles trying to reclaim my TF F/Os that i've lost, maybe once a week or once every two weeks... or once a month?? i dont know, i will try to keep some consistency but i really need to start slow on this. here's to hoping that drawing them every once in a while will make even just the smallest difference.
im so sick of associating these characters with my abuser and i'm so sick of the immediate fight or flight response that i get when just looking at pictures of TF characters or even the voice actors. i have tried just about everything... therapy, medication, exercise, watching a few clips from the shows, buying cameos, commissioning art/fics, talking to voice actors in person at conventions... nothing has helped me get better at all. i tried giving up on TF entirely, throwing out/giving away all of my TF merch, refusing to touch the franchise, but that has only made me more and more miserable as time has passed. it has been over a year since [insert the most horrific experiences ever here] happened to me and since i associated that with a long list of things, TF included. and im! sick! of feeling bad! so! if im gonna be miserable no matter what, then i might as well try to get better, right?? drawing my F/Os loving me has never failed me before, so here's to hoping it isn't gonna fail me now. i am quite the stubborn bitch and i refuse to allow my main coping mechanism i've used for 2 decades to remain tainted forever and ever 😤😤
these will be the shakiest, shittiest doodles imaginable, but i think drawing the robots i miss so much at least once a month can help me rewire my brain into believing they're safe again and they love me and i'm not in danger. i think the best thing that will help me is drawing my Ryan F/Os interacting with them as "proof" that they're safe to be around, that they've "approved of" them, will help me slowly reclaim them. fake it til you make it as they say. let's try this for maybe just a couple of months as a slow start and see how it goes :/
any TF doodles will be tagged as "reclaiming robots tag" and nothing else - free to blacklist it if you dont wanna see. i'll most likely be rarely posting these but jic //shrug
anyway. yay. attempts number one and two. i like to think barbie and ken stop by the starflower meadow every now and then because stsc summons them across the multiverse, asking them how i'm doing, if i'm safe, if i miss him at all. wow i am shaking so bad. ha ha haaa. these took about ten?? minutes?? so woohoo to ten minutes of drawing TF. im proud of myself for trying. even if i dont go through with this and end up not being able to draw TF ever again, at least i managed this one single post. if i keep this up, maybe a year from now, or two years or five years or whatever, i'll be able to handle it. i don't even expect to hyperfixate on TF ever again because my self shipping will never ever be the same w/ them -- i'll never interact with the fandom again, i'll never reblog fanart or gifsets or anything like that ever again, if i even somehow managed to feel good enough to actually throw myself back into the shows -- but i want to think i'll feel indifferent to it one day. to not have that fight or flight response. that is my goal. literally the bare fucking minimum <3
anyway. i'm super nauseous. this is so incredibly hard! holy shit!!! but that's why i have to do this. to quote pedro pascal, i am going to have a panic attack and i am going to leave 👍✨
(BTW I am still gonna stay offline for a few more days. I am back from vacation but I am SO burnt out I don't want to interact with dms/my inbox yet. I just wanted to post this just to get it out of my system and let it disappear into the void. But I will be back later this week bc I still have some commissions to finish and I wanna gush about my very exciting time meeting steve/tom/the brba cast. anyway... goodnight. i love you. smooch)
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ishkabibblethings · 1 month
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March 23rd
A fluffy Suits ficlet | Marvey (established) | Rated G "I had your secretary clear your afternoon. It's time we hit up that spa again, especially after the last few weeks." Harvey declares distractedly as he flips through their mail. Mike is still working on his breakfast at the kitchen counter and only mumbles an agreement. A real vacation is out of the question while they're so occupied at the firm, but an afternoon off together still sounds beautiful.
"I'll make us something nice tonight," Mike offers.
"Let's go all in, I'll find us a table somewhere good," Harvey replies and Mike can't find a reason to disagree. Mike secretly suspects that their time at the spa is more for Harvey than he'll admit but he's got no complaints.
"That sounds wonderful. It's been, what, like a year since we had a day like this? Good idea, dude." Mike moves around to the sink to drop off his dishes and pecks Harvey on the cheek as he passes by. "I'll just be a few minutes and we can head out."
"Don't call me dude, puppy," Harvey responds with a grin and watches Mike disappear into their bedroom.
Mike is in the bathroom wondering what it was that made Harvey plan another spa trip. Was his personal grooming slipping? They've been living together long enough but he's heard no complaints. He thinks back to their last trip, and the one before that, just when they'd started dating. It's a rare indulgence, and now that Mike thinks about it, it's always happened in the early spring.
Wait, now that he really considers it, picturing his work calendars, it has happened on this date each time. March 23rd. A knot starts to form in Mike's stomach. Fuck. Some sort of anniversary, it has to be something important for Harvey to move work around for it. Mike searches his brain, picturing every calendar he and Harvey kept, trying to remember similarities and differences, the reasoning behind the repeated treat day.
He must have taken longer than he realizes because Harvey comes to check and see if Mike's ready to go.
"You okay?"
"Uh yeah I'm good," Mike responds and checks the mirror again. He slips on his shoes and grabs his messenger bag.
In the car, Mike checks Harvey over for signs of emotions tucked away - disappointment, grief, frustration - notices nothing alarming and finds himself relaxing just a bit. Nothing he's done wrong, at least. Time to test his hypothesis.
"You know what, Harvey I forgot I've got a thing with Katrina this afternoon. Let's move the spa appointment to the weekend?"
"What thing with Katrina? Your secretary said she could move everything."
"I don't know if it ever made it in the books, she needs help with an in house thing for Louis." Mike bluffs.
"Well I'll encourage her to let you reschedule. It was hard to get these appointments today and you deserve a break." Harvey reaches for Mike's hand between them and laces their fingers together.
"Harvey, what's special about today?" Mike tries to keep his tone neutral.
"Aside from my stunning good looks and charm?" Harvey hams, and Mike actually scoffs.
"That's the same every day and you know it. Really Harvey, what's today?"
"I just want to give you a treat today, can't I do that as your loving boyfriend?"
Harvey's gone playful, so Mike knows he hasn't messed anything up. Harvey is also still avoiding the question so Mike knows he's on the right path.
"Of course you can. And I accept. But when my loving boyfriend happens to want to take me to a spa and dinner yearly on the same day without context, one is driven to wonder."
Harvey chuckles, knowing he's been caught.
"You really thought I wouldn't notice. Me, of all people? Twice is a coincidence, three is a pattern."
"Oh really, smart ass? Think back further." Harvey challenges.
"We weren't dating bef-"
"No we weren't together before that. Think back anyway."
Mike's eye focus on nothing in particular, and Harvey trusts he'll find it.
"The ties. You gifted me ties." Mike's head tilts a little in confusion and it's all Harvey can do to hold back a laugh.
"And lunch too," Harvey offers, feeling generous.
"I don't get it. Harvey, tell me. What's today? Why today?"
"So it started as a stupid joke, but you never caught on so I just kept going with it to see if you ever would." Harvey shrugs like he's almost embarrassed it's become a thing. Mike just watches him expectantly.
Harvey leans until his breath and lips are just close enough to make Mike's ear and neck tingle. Harvey's voice is private and Mike can hear his fond smile. "Happy National Puppy Day, Mike."
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Same Trailer, Different Park (Prologue)
April 14, 2024
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Notes - Last night, I went to my first-ever DND game with my oldest nephew, and it was incredible! It's supposed to be every other week, but we're doing it again this upcoming Saturday, and the storyline is giving me so many ideas that I could use for one-shots and stuff! Also, my sciatic pain is going away. It's moved from going all the way from my spine to my right knee to just my right hip, so that's an improvement! Anyway, this was just shy of 50 pages and would have been posted sooner if I had the moodboard and divider transferred to my computer, but I didn't, so here we are lmao! The divider I've used is just temporary until I can sit down and work on one I think suits the vibe, but until then, it is what it is. Also, I hope your finals go well! I believe in you!!
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April 14th - the day RMS Titanic struck the iceberg.
Usually, on this day every year, I would be prepping for a Titanic watch party and making sure everyone was ready for it, but that’s just not how it’s going to go this time around. After I get out of school today, it’s officially spring break, and I couldn’t be more excited to finally get away from this endless rain despite the deviation from my annual Titanic anniversary get-together. Riven already offered to give me a ride to school this morning, but since Mom asked me to give Abby and Olly one, and Erica’s piece of shit truck can’t go over puddles without breaking down, he’s giving her and JJ a ride instead. I have to remember to pick up stuff for my battle bot before I leave school, so I’ll tell Abby to remind me - she’s good at that kind of thing. Maybe if I take my notebooks with me on my trip, Mickie and the guys can help me figure out some ideas for what I want to build. Then, I won’t have to come up with something when I get back! Yeah, maybe that’s what I’ll do!
Vivien snapped her journal shut and tugged her headphones off before turning them off and tossing them onto her desk alongside her journal. With a sigh, she found her gaze in the mirror that hung on the back of her closet door as she made her way toward it. Despite the hair sticking in every direction, the blanket marks lining the arm she had fallen asleep on, and the wrinkled pajamas she wasn’t quite ready to rid herself of, she looked ready to start her day. Although she highly doubted she would need a cup of coffee that morning as her excitement for the day was propelling her forward like a cup full of espresso shots, Vivien knew she needed to at least look like she was half as ready as she felt.
Her reflection smiled back as she pushed the door of her closet open, but as she pulled the clothes she had set aside the night before down from her hangers, she found herself wondering if she should have put more thought into the outfit she had chosen. Would her typical choice of jeans, a witty graphic tee, and a brightly colored long-sleeve be a good choice in the long run? She would stand out like a sore thumb in the sixties, but nobody at her school would, frankly, give a shit what she wore. Her dad’s signature triple knock on her bedroom door gave Vivien no chance to change her mind as she hollered back that she was almost ready to go. He left after letting her know that he had to leave for an early morning meeting, wishing her a good morning and telling her that he would see her at lunch before leaving to tell the twins the same.
Sighing as she stretched her tired limbs out, Vivien set her cell phone on her dresser, asking Siri to put on one of her playlists as she debated on what to do with her hair. Glancing at the clothes she had yet to pack for her vacation, Vivien cringed as she realized just how much work she’d forced on her after-school self. For once, she was tragically unprepared for a trip. There was a lot she would have to do in the small amount of time between her release from school and Mick’s family picking her up. Pulling her shirt over her head with a huff and freeing her hair from under the collar, Vivien found her phone screen illuminated as a text came in from the girl who had invited her on her family’s trip in the first place.
Mick’s text was simple - a picture of four plane tickets to the John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana, California. Then, as Vivien smiled at her phone, another message came in, asking her if she was ready. A flutter of eager anticipation flew through Vivien’s text as she replied, telling the older brunette how excited she was to finally be able to spend time with the people they both cared about. Once the message had been sent, Vivien found an ABBA song on her playlist, turned the volume back up, and sang softly to herself as she finished getting ready for the day.
After brushing her teeth and taking the time to detangle the hair she had forgotten to ask someone to braid the night before, Vivien gathered her things for school, shoving her overstuffed folder full of homework and project notes into her backpack before grabbing her permission slip for the regional battle bot tournament and shoving it into the back of her bag where it would be kept relatively safe until the end of the school day. Tucking her school laptop into her bag, zipping it shut, and throwing a strap over her shoulder, Vivien scurried out of her room, just barely remembering to turn off the light as Oliver mumbled out a good morning on his way to the stairs. Chuckling as she wished her brother a good morning, Vivien stepped back to allow Abby to parade by with her backpack on one shoulder, a book in her free hand, and her hair pulled back in a migraine-inducing high pony that Vivien was sure she would hear the girl complaining about later in the day.
Following her siblings downstairs as Abby muttered her oral report to herself, Vivien took in a slow breath and hoped her mother had already left for her meeting with some city council board as the smell of slightly charred bacon wafted through the air. Their mother had a habit of making perfect bacon and sausage for herself and everyone else but would sometimes forget Vivien’s and her ex-husband’s in the pan while she took the time to ensure her twins had everything exactly how they liked it. Vivien never bothered to bring up the issue; instead, she gave the charred bacon strips or sausage patties to Riven as he was practically a walking garbage disposal and seemed to enjoy the blackened breakfast meats. Her siblings had tried to bring it up before, and Vivien knew her father had tried as well, but to no avail. The woman wouldn’t argue much with her younger children and always denied anything being wrong, pointing out the fact that Vivien never brought it up herself, but even when Oliver argued that the disgust on Vivien’s face was obvious, nothing changed.
Entering the kitchen, Vivien smirked as Oliver turned back toward Abby and began spouting random historical facts to throw his twin off her train of thought. Abby was quick to fight back, whacking her brother with her book as she told him to shut up and let her focus. Their mother was quick to jump in and tell her only son to leave his sister alone before handing them both their lunch boxes and telling them to get going before they were late. Abby sent Vivien an apologetic look as the eldest of the O’Brian kids took the only remaining lunch box from the counter, and their mother ushered them toward the coat closet. After giving the twins a quick kiss on the forehead and telling Vivien to drive safely, the woman grabbed her jacket and left, heading out to her car and taking off while the kids were still pulling on their spring coats. 
With a sigh, Vivien grabbed her keys from the hook by the door and held the door open for her siblings, but it wasn’t until they were in the pale blue Hyundai Vivien had received from their father after passing her license test that any of them chose to speak up. Oliver huffed as he slid into the back seat, buckling his seatbelt before stretching out across the bench seat and sighing, “I don’t get Mom’s issue.”
“Olly,” Vivien sighed, a soft reprimand that she hoped would keep her brother from ranting the whole way to their school.
“No, Viv,” Abby cut in before Oliver could speak, “we all see she treats you differently, and it isn’t right!”
“It isn’t,” Vivien agreed as she pushed the key into the ignition and started the car, turning the defroster on to keep the windows clear, “but it isn’t worth the effort of trying to change her. Besides, I’ve got you guys and Dad.”
“And Auntie Hayley and Aunt Charlie,” Oliver piped in.
“Exactly,” Vivien nodded, smiling at her younger brother as she backed out of the driveway.
Abby huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and slouching in her seat as she complained, “Still. I wish we knew what her problem was.”
“I have a few theories,” Oliver claimed.
Abby grinned, “We know. You’ve shown us your corkboard of conspiracy theories.”
“Yeah,” Vivien snorted, putting the car into drive and taking off down their street. “I swear, introducing you to MatPat and Shane Dawson at a young age was a bad idea.”
“Seriously,” Abby agreed teasingly. “If I have to be subjected to another three-hour rant about the government brainwashing us through Justin Beiber’s music, I just might pitch myself off of the water tower.”
“First of all, that’s not what my theory was about,” Oliver chuckled, “and second, I meant about Mom treating Viv differently.”
Shifting so that she could see both Oliver and Vivien, Abby said, “Well, you’re the conspiracy theorist here. What do you think is the issue?”
Excited to finally have the chance to blather about the ideas he had been bouncing around in his head for a while, Oliver beamed as he began his spiel, “My first thought was that she’s jealous that Vivien has a better relationship with Auntie Hayley and is upset that she’s not Viv’s birth mom, but that wasn’t an issue when we were little, so why would it be now?”
“Yeah, makes sense,” Abby nodded thoughtfully, sparing a glance at Vivien, who nodded as she slowed to a stop at an intersection. Turning back to her twin, Abby pressed, “So, what else you got?”
Oliver sighed, “Sadly, I think the most likely reason is that she’s just pissy because she thinks Viv forced me into the ‘Alphabet Soup Community’ and is scared she’ll do the same to you, Abs.”
Abby’s expression shifted, a disgusted wince tugging her eyebrows together in frustration as she took in her brother’s theory. It made sense, but she didn’t want to admit it. Though Vivien had come out as bisexual years ago, their mother never truly seemed to accept it until Vivien began dating Royce a few months ago. When Oliver came out as gay, the woman had taken the news out on her eldest child, pulling her aside and blaming her for “poisoning her baby brother” with her “disgusting beliefs.” Abby had unintentionally overheard the conversation, listening proudly to her older sister as the brunette fought for her brother to be treated better than she had been. When Abby later told Oliver what she’d heard, the pair found themselves in Vivien’s room, showering their sister with kind words of gratitude and love that the older girl seemed to relish in.
Ready to rant about their mother’s blatant homophobia, Abby scoffed; however, it was Vivien who spoke before her sister could rage for the rest of the drive, “Sadly, that could be right.” Vivien placed a hand on top of the one Abby had placed on the center console, gently squeezing her hand as she continued, “Even though I hope that’s not the case, it could very well be. She’s always been a little… uptight about that sort of thing.”
“A little?” Oliver chortled, finding Vivien’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
Abby laughed, “You couldn’t pull a needle out of her ass with a tractor!”
“Abby!” Vivien reprimanded despite her laughing at the girl’s choice of words.
“It’s the truth!” Abby argued. “I’m sure she would’ve sent you guys to conversion therapy or something if Dad hadn’t said something.”
Vivien sighed as she turned onto School Street, “Still. She’s our mom, and until we move out, we have no choice but to put up with her bullshit.”
Oliver shifted in his seat, ready to crack a joke in order to lighten the situation, but Abby huffed, “I just don’t get why your sexualities matter so much to her. It’s not like it has anything to do with her in the first place.”
“Maybe she-”
“And why should she care if I’m straight or not?” Abby continued, cutting off Vivien’s statement with a scoff. “Is she just going to drop all of us if I someday decide to come out of the closet?”
Once he was sure his twin was done ranting, Oliver shrugged, “Maybe. Like Auntie Hayley said, Mom can’t stand that we aren’t her little dolls who do whatever she says now. I wouldn’t put it past her if she chooses to up and leave if this becomes a three-for-three situation.”
Taking in the wounded expression on her baby sister’s face as she pulled into an empty parking spot, Vivien smiled reassuringly and said, “I doubt you have much of anything to worry about anyway. Even if you came out as bi like I did, you and Malachi have been dating for, what, almost a year now?” When Abby nodded wordlessly, Vivien continued, “Well, Mom only chilled out when she found out I was dating Royce. Since you’re dating a boy already, I doubt there would be a problem.”
“Besides,” Oliver began as he pushed open his door and picked up his bag from the floor, “you’re straight - you have nothing to worry about.”
Plastering a smile on her face as she tugged her bag up from the floor, Abby nodded, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Patting Abby’s hand with a grin, Vivien opened her door and stepped outside, grabbing her backpack from the backseat and locking the car once the doors were closed. Once her keys were safely tucked into the front pocket of her backpack, Vivien followed her siblings to the front door of the school. Before she could step inside, however, a honk from a nearby car made  Vivien jump, whirling around to see Riven’s red Miata pulling to a stop by the sidewalk. Telling her siblings she would see them later, Vivien headed over to the car as the passenger’s side door opened, and a head of emerald hair stepped out before pushing the seat forward.
“Hey, Viv,” Jade greeted with a smile as she tightened her ponytail.
As Erica tumbled out of the backseat, the seatbelt wrapped around the ankle of her Doc Martens, she peered up at the brunette and beamed, “Oh, good! I was hoping to catch you before first period.” 
“Mission accomplished,” Vivien chuckled as Erica hobbled her way away from the car. As the car door closed and the window rolled down, she leaned over and teased, “That’s the only car full of ladies you’ll ever have, isn’t it?”
Riven sent his best friend a grin and gestured to his fellow bandmates as he spoke, “Blues Clues over there can hardly be considered a lady, and considering JJ is the only cheerleader who has ever given me the time of day, probably.”
Chuckling, Vivien rolled her eyes and said, “You’re an idiot.”
“Love you too.”
Before Vivien could return the sentiment, Erica placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Alright, dipshits, let’s go before the bell rings and we get told off.”
Jade chuckled as she tossed her Chapstick into her bag, “By who; Viv’s dad?”
Vivien snorted at the thought of her dad reprimanding them, but Erica beat her to the punch as she turned toward her girlfriend and said, “I was thinking Coach Boogeyman.”
Leaning over the passenger seat, Riven wondered, “I thought Bogman was forced to leave after the color guard claimed she was spying on them in the showers.”
“She was supposed to,” Jade huffed, “but until they find enough evidence to take her to court, she has to finish out the year.”
“Sadly,” a voice sighed from behind the group. Turning toward the voice, Vivien smiled as her father spoke, “Until we have her on camera, there’s nothing we can do. Besides, she’s been pushing off retirement for years. With this accusation, we should be able to finalize everything at the end of the year.”
“Good,” Erica snipped as Vivien stepped around her. “She’s always given me the creeps.”
“Understandably so,” Damien chuckled softly, smiling as his daughter slotted herself under his arm. “Hey, babygirl.”
“Hey, Dad,” Vivien beamed. “Did you come to walk us to class?”
Damien shook his head, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder as he replied, “Not quite. I saw you four chatting and figured I would try to get you inside before anyone else came out and started yelling.” Leaning forward enough to see Riven, he asked, “Are you joining us, Riven, or are you just going to do virtual lessons today?”
“No, I’ll be in,” Riven quickly replied, glancing toward the parking lot with his signature grin. “Just have to find a place to park.”
“Make it quick, bud,” the man stated as he glanced at his smartwatch. “The bell rings in ten minutes.”
Riven nodded, checking to make sure his path was clear before pulling away from the curb, his Miata drifting toward the parking lot as Damien began leading his daughter and her friends inside. After handing her lunchbox off to her dad so he could put it into the staff fridge until lunch, Vivien waited until Riven came running up to the front door before stepping inside behind him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her toward the stairwell across from the main office, waving goodbye to their friends and her father as they propelled up the stairs. Riven dragged her up to the next floor, where their lockers resided, before letting her go as he began twisting in his locker combination. Meanwhile, Vivien pulled her keys from her backpack, slipped a purple-painted one into her lock, and freed it, popping open the metal door with a sigh and placing her bag on the hook inside.
“You know,” Riven began, “it’s days like today that I wish my birthday wasn’t after the school cutoff.”
“Rough morning?” Vivien asked with a grin.
Riven scoffed as he tugged his social studies workbook down from the shelf he had shoved it onto the day before, “I slept through my alarm, and Dad was already at work, so he couldn’t help. Then, I woke up to Erica screeching about needing a ride, only to have my phone die mid-call. And, to top it all off, I’m about eighty-three percent sure these sweatpants are yours from the weekend.”
Vivien’s eyebrow lifted, but as she glanced down at the navy blue sweatpants Riven donned,  her eyes widened. Sure enough, the stars and planets she had embroidered around the pockets and hemline of her sweatpants now stood as a glaring reminder of the clothes she had tossed into the wash at Riven’s house. They had been cooking stuffed shells, and she had dropped the jar of sauce, splattering chunky, red tomato sauce all over the floor and their legs. After putting the food in the oven, they got a majority of the stains out in the sink but threw their clothes into the laundry afterward to get rid of the smell. She had forgotten the pants in her rush to get out the door on Monday morning, having told Riven she would take them back when she went back to his house after spring break was over. Holding back her bark of laughter, Vivien grinned at the thought of Riven rushing around his room that morning, throwing on whatever he could find before leaving the house and somehow missing the colorful threads lining his legs.
“Yeah,” Riven breathed, rolling his eyes at Vivien’s not-so-discrete snort of laughter. “Erica thought it was hilarious.”
“It kind of is,” Vivien giggled softly. At Riven’s dismayed sigh, her grin faltered, and she glanced down at her pants as she offered, “Do you want to trade? I’m pretty sure I stole these from you over the summer.”
Riven spared a glance at the jeans Vivien had worn and grinned; the cuffs were rolled up toward her ankles to prevent them from being stepped on, and she had to wear a belt just to keep the waistband in place, something Riven had no issue with in the slightest. With a snort, he shook his head, “I think I’m good, Pip. You made these and, despite them being on the shorter side, I’m only here until lunch. I can run home and change before work after I’m done eating. Besides, they wouldn’t match your outfit.”
Vivien’s eyebrow lifted into her bangs as she asked, “Since when do you care if clothes match?”
“I don’t,” Riven shrugged as he closed his locker, “but I know you do. Now, come on, it’s almost time for the bell.”
Scrambling to grab her books for the next two classes so she wouldn’t have to run to her locker between bells, Vivien slammed her locker shut and walked alongside Riven until he reached his class. They wouldn’t see each other again until she was allowed to head to the cafeteria for lunch, but their mornings in the halls were something she had cherished for a while. Joining a few of her classmates on their way to their first period of the day, Vivien caught a glimpse of the oversized clock on the wall and sighed. She had four periods until lunch, and only two were on the same floor, but she had planned to use her study hall block to join her friend Emily in the drama wing of the main floor. 
Emily - or Emmy, as she was often called by her relatively small friend group - had been begging her for the last two weeks to join her for the auditions in some musical the school was putting on. Originally, Vivien had no desire to audition as she hated the thought of having so many eyes on her, but when Emily pointed out that the auditorium was in close proximity to the cafeteria, she relented. If it meant she didn’t have to run from her study hall on the top floor all the way down to the main floor to eat, she was in.
Her first block was spent listening to Mrs. Adams - the only social studies teacher who actually seemed to enjoy teaching - ask everyone what their plans were for spring break. She loved to make the class hard as most of her students were either on the honor roll or enrolled in advanced placement classes, but Fridays were the one day a week when everyone got some reprieve from her constant stream of tests, exams, and droning lessons. By the time the bell rang, everyone had broken off into groups, writing out their plans for the week as their teacher sat at her desk with a smile, grading the last few papers on her computer. Vivien had made up a story on the fly, writing out her plans for the trip to California she told everyone she was going on, but as the bell rang, she closed her notebook and shoved it into her desk before grabbing her book for the next class and following her friend, Carter, down the hall toward the French class she had signed up for at the start of the semester.
Although she struggled a lot with the language - finding her old Spanish and German classes easier than French - the teacher commended her many times for at least trying. She wanted nothing more than to learn the language her boyfriend’s family knew, intending to surprise them on her trip. However, she knew her attempts were fairly futile. French just wasn’t her strong suit. Grateful her grade for the class wasn’t going to affect her final grades for the year, Vivien slumped into her chair in the middle of the room and hoped the class would go by faster than it usually did so that she could escape to the auditorium.
Thankfully, it seemed as though the teachers were of the same mindset as the students - eager to escape the concrete and stucco walls and leave for vacation. After answering a one-sided paper of questions in French about how their week had been, the teacher let them wander the halls, allowing Vivien to dump her books in her locker before making her way down to the auditorium. The auditorium was hardly ever used unless they had a guest speaker or a show being rehearsed, but the doors were almost always left unlocked, making it easy for Vivien to slip inside and make her way to the front row of chairs.
The auditorium would be empty for a while before the audition time came, but as Vivien had all the time in the world until her friend showed up, she didn’t mind the silence. Opening the notes app on her phone, she began typing out all of the things she would need to pack when she got home. Her list was already relatively short as she had put her essentials into her suitcase after using them that morning before school - her toiletries taking up the small pouch in the front of her luggage to leave room for the clothes she was still up in the air about. Although she knew that clothes weren’t really necessary as Mick had told her many times that she would be able to borrow period-typical clothes from them upon her arrival, she still needed to shove some summery clothing into her suitcase to make it seem as though her time had truly been spent in the California sun. 
With a sigh, Vivien realized she also needed to leave room for the souvenirs she would be bringing back and any potential shopping she did in either world. By the time she had whittled down her list to just necessities, her journal, and some extra changes of, well, every article of clothing she owned, people had begun to fill the auditorium, ascending the stage and beginning vocal warm-ups that would have impressed Sharpay Evans. Vivien tucked her earbuds in as the noise in the room began to grow, only pulling them out when Emily appeared in the seat next to her, excitedly tugging Vivien out of her shell and onto the stage with her as she rambled about the show they were going to be performing for the end of the school year.
Checking her blood pressure on her watch, Vivien sighed as the drama teachers, Mrs. Kaisla and Mr. Doyle, began telling everyone where to stand before giving them the run-down of the show. “As you all know by the posters in the halls,” Mr. Doyle began, “this year’s final show will be Hairspray.”
“I really want to play Tracy or Penny,” Emily squealed in a whisper mere inches from Vivien’s ear. Grabbing Vivien’s shirt in a fist, she added, “Imagine if Colby gets picked for Link or Seaweed - it would be perfect!”
Chuckling at the girl’s obvious crush on the dark-skinned football player who had been in their friend circles since kindergarten, Vivien whispered back, “I admire your enthusiasm, but is he the only reason you’re auditioning? I mean, you hate being the center of attention as much as I do being on stage; why would you wish for the lead?”
Emily’s sparkling smile faltered as Vivien’s words sunk in but quickly reappeared as the teachers wrapped up their short spiel about the show, “That’s why you’re here.”
“To make sure you don’t look like the worst performer here?” Vivien questioned teasingly.
Emily scoffed, elbowing Vivien in the arm, “Shut up. You’re not that bad.”
“Says you,” Vivien replied as Mrs. Kaisla began ushering some students toward center stage. As soon as she was sure neither she nor Emily were part of the group selected, she added, “There’s a reason I only ever sing in the car or the shower.”
With a sigh, Emily nudged her friend closer to the front of the stage and said, “And there’s a reason I asked you to come with me instead of literally anybody else. You have a beautiful voice. Besides, I need someone here who makes it easier to be in the spotlight. Now, shush!”
Vivien rolled her eyes but smiled as Emily hushed her, urging her to watch the others as they were instructed on what to do. Minutes flew by as the group took turns singing popular songs played over a bluetooth speaker one of the boys had brought to the school. Before she knew it, Vivien felt her stomach clench anxiously as her name was called, and Emily practically dragged her to the center of the stage. Taking a deep breath as the others took turns singing, Vivien tried to think of a song - any song - she could sing at least fairly well, but any titles she knew seemed to flee her brain as her mouth dried up as she resorted to biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from fidgeting under the blazing lights.
As Emily’s choice - an 80s hit that had made an appearance in the last season of Stranger Things - began to play, Vivien realized just how doomed she was, and her mind flickered to the cell phone in her back pocket. Surely, her Spotify would have something she could work with, right? However, to her chagrin, as soon as the device was free of its jean prison, Vivien found the music had stopped playing, and she was forced to choose a song without any assistance. Had she really taken that long to decide? Clearing her throat, Vivien smiled tersely as she gave up the only song that had found its way to the front of her brain in time - ABBA’s Lay All Your Love On Me. 
The teachers she hardly knew seemed to smile as they talked amongst themselves, and although a part of her was sure they were talking about how easy the song was to mess up, Emily’s encouraging smile from the side of the stage somewhat assured her that all was fine. Closing her eyes as the music began playing, Vivien attempted to force her fears down as she sucked in a deep breath. All she had to do was get through a section of the song, and she would be free to leave as everyone else was. Pretending she was just singing in the car with Riven, Vivien allowed her voice to carry over the music, her enjoyment of the song obvious as she began to sway to the beat, the lyrics flowing out of her like water.
Once the chorus had left her, the music began to fade, allowing the teachers to be heard as they scribbled something on their clipboards. Looking up at her, Mrs. Kaisla smiled and said, “Thank you, Vivien. You’re free to go.”
“Remember to check the cast list when we come back to school,” Mr. Doyle added before gesturing toward the side of the stage, where Emily received her with a hug and a squeal.
The two made their exit relatively quickly, Vivien practically pushing Emily through the double doors so that she could find a source of oxygen in the halls. Once the auditorium doors had closed with a click, Vivien sighed, checking her blood pressure as a wave of anxiety-fueled dizziness washed over her. After making up a quick excuse as to where she was going, Vivien told Emily she would see her after lunch before making her way to her locker, where she kept her water bottle. Sitting on the floor by her locker, Vivien sipped at her water until the bell rang, forcing herself to calm down as she scrolled through Pinterest.
Before long, Jade and Riven appeared, having left the same class Vivien would have to attend after lunch - World History. They hauled her off of the floor, and Riven tossed his books into his locker before draping an arm around Vivien's shoulders and guiding her toward the stairs while Jade rattled off about the teacher - Mr. Smith - being the most boring teacher in the school. After retrieving Vivien's lunch from her father, she joined her friends at their usual table by the windows on the far wall of the cafeteria, spending their lunch block playing a segment of their Dungeons and Dragons campaign on their phones while eating. 
After a while of playing and eating, the bell rang, and they cleaned up their table before tossing Vivien's now empty lunch box into Erica's locker near the gym before saying goodbye to Riven and splitting off to their respective classes. For Vivien, the rest of her classes went by without a hitch, time flying by the way she had hoped all morning that it would. Once her final class of the day ended, Vivien sent a quick text to the group chat she and her siblings had created, telling them that she had to drop off her form for the battle bot tournament and would meet them at the car. Making her way from the top floor to her locker, Vivien gathered her belongings, shoving her water bottle and a small bag of Cheetos her Trigonometry teacher had given her into her backpack before slinging her backpack onto her shoulders.
Once she was back on the main floor, Vivien scurried across the hall, rounded the entrance to the office, and took the stairwell across from the vending machines down to the school's basement. As she descended the stairs, dampness and mildew filled her nostrils, making her nose wrinkle in disgust as she pushed the door to the bottom floor open. Hardly anyone visited the basement unless they had to, as there was little to see, but there were a select few who found comfort in the almost eerie silence and smell the basement offered. While the basement wasn't overly dark or dreary, it never quite felt warm enough to give off the same welcoming feeling the upper parts of the school gave. 
Perhaps it was the piercing white light of the fluorescents or the steady beeping from the computer lab that sounded almost exactly like a hospital heart monitor that kept people away, but regardless, there were only a handful of students who enjoyed the ominous, cold, almost abandoned feeling the basement radiated. Vivien was one of those odd students. After years of exploring abandoned buildings with Riven for his photography blog and her Instagram, the smell and cold environment of the school's basement did little to drive her away. If anything, it was almost calming.
There weren't many reasons for most students to visit the basement, as there were only three labs and two committees that met there. The chemistry, robotics, and computer laboratories were in a triangle-like formation at the very end of the hall, while the photography and student politics groups met at the other end of the hall, their rooms across from each other and sharing a single wall that was thin enough to hear conversations happening in the other room. Vivien hummed to herself as she stepped around an old projector that had been wheeled into the hallway, grinning fondly at the memory of having to haul the old machine up the stairs to the top floor for one of the summer school teachers while helping her dad out in the office. Stepping into the Bermuda Triangle of classrooms at the end of the hall, Vivien scanned the names beside the doors before making her way toward the left-most room.
The door to the robotics lab had been kept open with a hunk of metal the teacher, Mr. Kevin Hill, had welded in his free time one summer. Mr. Hill was one of Vivien's favorite teachers of all time. Mr. Hill was a short Irishman with a fondness for taking things apart and rebuilding them, something Vivien could appreciate. There were a few other students in the room - Vivien's bandmate, Erica; Damon Perry, a vitiligo-skinned freshman who hardly spoke around upperclassmen unless he was spoken to first; and Preston Osborne, a senior who thought his shit didn't stink because he had more money than he knew what to do with. 
Unlike the rest of the handful of rich kids at their school, Vivien had known Preston by extension for years. He had been something of a nightmare for the school system, using his daddy's reputation as a hotshot lawyer in the city to be a dick to anyone who dared push back against whatever he wanted. According to Erica and Jade, Preston wasn't horrible until middle school, when the older kids began picking on him. One threat of a lawsuit later, Preston officially became known as someone nobody wanted to trifle with. Over the years, Vivien had heard her father complain about the boy and had heard horror stories from teachers who'd had him, but Vivien hadn't known him personally until she became the youngest person from their school ever to win the regional battle bot championship. 
In her first year fighting back in seventh grade, she had beaten Preston by a long shot, her little, ladybug-shaped robot tearing Preston's robot apart with its electrified saws. Preston, of course, seemed incapable of taking the news well, having argued with the competition's judges until he was forced to either accept defeat or be disqualified. Ever since that day, Vivien found herself with an upperclassman who thought of her as nothing more than his arch-nemesis. Though she found him obnoxious after a while, Vivien hardly played into his made-up game of tug-of-war unless provoked, something that seemed to piss Preston off more instead of making him see how ridiculous he was being.
Rolling her eyes at the imbecile's glare, Vivien signed her name on the clipboard on the teacher's desk, taking a glance at the competition as she allowed her backpack to slide down from her shoulders. The robotics teacher was supposed to supervise from his desk as Erica, Preston, and Damon scoured the materials the teacher had laid out for them to take, but Damon had somehow managed to ask a question that kept the old Irishman talking while Erica and Preston searched the scrap bins the teacher had left out for them to rifle through. The bins would be there until the day of the competition, giving Vivien plenty of time to come up with a model and a mock-up before she started digging through the bins of scrap metal that, hopefully, wouldn't be sending anyone to the hospital for a tetanus shot that year.
As Mr. Hill stepped away from his conversation with Damon, he found Vivien standing by his desk as she dug through her backpack for the paper she swore she had left in the front of the biggest pouch. "Ah," the teacher began, "Miss O'Brian. I was wondering when you would show." 
Vivien peered over at the teacher and smiled before resuming her search, "Well, better late than never, right, Mr. H?" 
The graying man smiled with a short nod as he sat in his chair once again, "So far, I have only received a couple of sign-ups, so your competition from our school is looking rather small. Do you have an idea for what your battle bot will look like this year?" 
"You know I can't tell you, even if I do," Vivien stated as she tugged her permission slip out and handed it to the teacher. As Mr. Hill glanced over the paper with mild interest, Vivien stepped away from his desk and looked over some of the objects the teacher had prepared. She picked up a few metal pieces she could use for either a weapon or a protective shield and placed them in a plastic Walmart bag that Mr. Hill had left out for the students to use. "Besides, I wouldn't dare divulge my secrets to my enemies," Vivien claimed theatrically as she glanced around at the other students in the room. 
Erica leaned forward just enough to stick her tongue out at Vivien, placing a couple of springs in a plastic bag the teacher had given her. Damon simply smiled but kept quiet as he signed out a workshop tool that he'd need to return in the next two weeks. Vivien returned his smile and chuckled; in the few years she had known him, Damon had always seemed to be a very quiet, reserved person, but he seemed to come a little bit out of his shell when it came time for battles such as this one. However, as opposed to his silent competitors, Preston Osborne scoffed at Vivien and rolled his eyes as he turned toward the brunette. 
He used the wrench he was holding to point at Vivien, watching her with scrutiny as he spoke, "After last year's height requirement debacle, I doubt anybody would take your advice." 
"What?" Vivien began sarcastically, her voice taking on an infantilizing tone. "Are you still upset that mine was bigger than yours?" Ignoring the snorted bark of shocked laughter from her blue-haired friend, the brunette, never one to back down from a fight with the arrogant male, moved so she could look Preston as straight in the eye as her shorter stature would allow. "At least you could see mine in the ring. Everyone needed a pair of binoculars to see yours; it was so small." 
Preston stared down his nose at Vivien before chuckling condescendingly, "At least mine didn't need a judge to do a height check last minute." 
"Yeah, and? Who won that battle again?" Vivien asked rhetorically. Gasping dramatically, she placed a hand over her chest and answered her own question, "Oh, right! Me." 
"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Preston retorted with an arrogant scoff. Then, his voice lowered as he hissed, "My dad could sue the shit out of your family. I'd run you and your whole family out of town."
"I don't know who told you that, dipshit," Vivien laughed, "but your daddy's got no power here and neither do you. In fact, I bet your 'big city lawyer' father would love to hear all about how often you try to threaten people in this school. Threatening bodily harm is a potentially jailable offense, you know. I can see the headlines now!"
Vivien pretended to gag as Preston leaned closer, his breath polluting her face as he snarled, "That big mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble if you don't shut it."
"If you think my mouth is big, I feel bad for your girlfriend." Vivien paused, gave a mock gasp, then added, "Oh, wait, you don't have one. Do you, shrimp dick?"
"Look, you little bitch, I-"
"Mister Osborne, Miss O'Brian," Mr. Hill interrupted, rising from his seat before the argument could get any worse. "I believe this argument will get you nowhere. Mr. Osborne, as you have already gathered your things, I suggest you sign out any tools you may need and leave before this ends up as another after-school detention for you. Miss O'Brian, please continue looking around for any particular parts you may need." 
Vivien nodded and waited for Preston to back down and storm off before she resumed her perusing, allowing the teacher to handle Preston as he approached the desk. Mr. Hill was one of the teachers who always formed his own opinions of the children who came into his class, regardless of their notoriety. The man didn't care about who the kids' parents were; he would treat him the same way he would treat any student. Vivien knew from Riven's occasional photography classes at the community college that Mr. Hill had taken opportunities to float around the different universities in the area, teaching robotics and photography when he wished; if he got fired from this school for not babying Preston or some other Karen's spawn, it probably wouldn't be a hard blow. Maybe that was why Vivien, Erica, and most of the other students who didn't like Preston liked Mr. Hill so much. 
Soon, but not soon enough, Preston left and took his bags with him, and Erica flipped him off as he disappeared down the hallway. Turning toward the grinning Vivien, she beamed, "Bitch, you handled him so much better than I would have." 
Vivien smiled as she tossed a handful of small springs into her wagon. "Thanks. I just- I can't stand him."
"Who can other than his parents?" Erica scoffed, "His head's so far up his own ass, I'm surprised he can walk straight."
"I have to agree with you," Mr. Hill piped in as he sat back in his seat. "Although Preston makes fair marks as far as I am aware, he rides on his father's reputation to keep himself above everyone else. Though, as a teacher, I must advise you change your approach, a couple of wounds to his pride will, hopefully, do him well over time." 
"I doubt he'll change," Vivien said, shaking her head, as she examined a small shell-shaped piece that could be used as a cover for her robot. 
The teacher returned to the book he had been reading, and Erica nodded in agreement before taking a battery holder and putting it inside her bag. She looked at Vivien's bag and shook her head at how much the younger girl had already stored away. "Well, I'm looking forward to being annihilated by you again this year, as always." 
Vivien knew the other girl was only joking, as Erica had told her before that she only entered the battles for fun and found it interesting to see how far she could get. With a smile, Vivien chirped, "And I look forward to annihilating you, as always." 
Erica laughed, giving Vivien a quick hug before leaving, claiming she and Jade were getting a ride to work from one of the girls on the cheer team who worked at the mall with them. Once her friend was gone, Vivien went back to picking out parts for her robot, picking out items she thought could be of use and tucking them into the bag that had begun to weigh her arm down. The brunette spent another handful of minutes in the classroom before deciding she had enough things. As she placed her heavy bag inside another, she tied the handles in a knot and said, "Well, Mr. Hill, I believe I'll be on my way." 
"Actually, Miss O'Brian, I have to go over the rules for the battles before you leave," the teacher claimed, tucking a bookmark into the novel he was reading before pulling a paper from his desk drawer. "Normally, I would wait until I have you in class, but since we won't be back in school until after spring break, now is as good a time as any." 
Vivien accepted the paper from the teacher, reading over the first couple of rules before nodding to herself. "Did they change them or something?" 
"Not exactly." Mr. Hill stood and made his way around the desk, sitting on the other side of the surface as he pointed out some of the notes at the bottom of the page. "The officials are new this year. They've agreed to keep the three-foot height acceptance, but they've eliminated the use of robotic arms that can be used to puncture another robot from the maximum height - as you can see here." 
"Let me guess, that rule was made because of my robot from last year?" Vivien pondered. 
"That would be my guess as well," the teacher agreed with a grin. "While that robot of yours was quite impressive, you have to keep it short if that's your plan this year." 
Vivien shook her head, knowing that wasn't her idea at all. She liked to change things up every year, never showcasing the same attack twice. Thinking for a moment, Vivien scanned over the jumbled nonsense on the page that she would probably hand off to Mick the moment she saw her and asked, "Are saws and shields still allowed?" 
"Yes, of course," Mr Hill said, nodding insistently. "It would be very hard to take that ruling out. Just remember that you need to have your robot done by the first of June. The following week, the judges will go through the ruling process. Any final adjustments will have to be made before the end of the school day on Friday, the ninth. The first day of battles will be Saturday, and Sunday will be finals and awards, as per usual." 
Vivien allowed herself a brief moment to process the information before nodding, a smile lighting her face as she spoke, "That sounds good to me." Picking up her backpack from the floor, Vivien folded and tucked the paper into the pocket of her jeans and headed out of the classroom. It wasn't until she was near the stairwell that she heard her name being called again. Turning toward the voice, she found Mr. Hill standing in the doorway of his classroom. "Yeah?" she called in return. 
"Just something I meant to tell you before you left." The teacher held his book up a little, a gesture that made Vivien believe he was going to quote something from it, yet, without looking down, he began speaking once more. "Those who are willing to work hard - day in and day out - to achieve their goals are the true winners, regardless of the scores or the judges' opinions. I don't doubt that you are one of those hard-working people, Vivien; you know what you're doing. Your skills never cease to amaze me, and I hope you prove me right again this year." 
With a raised brow, Vivien asked, "Prove you right, sir?"
"I've been an AP Robotics teacher here for twenty-three years," Mr Hill said. "It's not often that I have someone in my class throughout junior and senior high school. Other teachers said I  should have booted you down to the regular class with Miss Denis, but since the day you first walked into my class, I knew you had potential. Since then, you've proved them wrong every step of the way. I commend you for that."
Vivien stood in place for a moment, stunned at her teacher's kind words. "Thanks, Mr Hill. I won't let you down." 
"I know you won't, Miss O'Brian. You never do. Have a nice evening," he replied before turning back to his book and stepping back over to his desk, leaving Vivien standing alone in the hallway. 
Vivien stared at the spot Mr. Hill had previously occupied, letting out an airy laugh as a brilliant smile found its way onto her face. Taking in a deep breath, she straightened her posture and turned toward the stairs, propelling herself up them with newfound confidence. Her bag of assorted metal bits jangled, clanking together in a symphony of scrapes and tings as she ascended the stairs. Once she had reached the main floor, Vivien retrieved her lunch box from Erica's locker. The girl's four-digit code - 8104, Erica's birthdate and year combined - was one of the many Vivien kept in her notes app in case her friends ever forgot them, and even though she was sure Erica couldn't possibly forget her locker combination, Vivien enjoyed knowing that, if her friends needed her to, she could help them.
After tugging the lunch box out from the chaos that was Erica's locker, Vivien rushed to the office, saying a quick goodbye to her dad before heading to the main entrance, pushing open the first set of doors before lifting the hood of her jacket over her head and hoping her siblings had gotten the spare key to her car from their father as rain poured from above. Shoving open the door to the outside world, Vivien watched as rain slammed down in sheets, taking a deep breath before bolting into the freezing rain, letting out a shrill screech as she scurried across the parking lot to her car. She threw the door open and jumped inside, grateful her siblings had already started the car's heater, as she slammed the door shut behind her.
Abby smirked at her sister's reflection in the rear-view mirror as Vivien shivered in her seat, and with a snort, she asked, "Bit chilly, sissy?"
Turning back toward her little sister, Vivien nodded and sighed, "You could say that." Hauling her backpack and Walmart bag of metal parts over the gap between her seat and Oliver's, Vivien asked, "Can you hold onto these for me, Abs?"
Peering back as Abby placed Vivien's belongings on the seat next to her, Oliver asked, "You're doing the championship again this year?"
"When doesn't she, Olly?" Abby asked rhetorically as Vivien backed out of her parking spot. "She fights every year, and every year, she wins."
"I know that; I'm not stupid," Oliver retorted.
"Debatable," Abby shrugged.
Ignoring his twin, Oliver said, "I just thought that, since she was going on vacation, she wouldn't be participating this year."
"I'll have plenty of time," Vivien claimed, putting the car into drive and steering it toward the parking lot's exit. "Besides, I'll be with Mickie for a whole week. If my battle bot isn't at least halfway done by the time I get back, then one of us either got sick, somehow got pregnant, or died."
Oliver let out a snort, "I mean, fair enough, but aren't you going to do anything fun while you're in California?"
"Building things is fun," Vivien retorted, flicking on her turn signal and glancing both ways before pulling out of the parking lot, "but yeah, we're going to the beach, checking out some museums, and we might visit Disneyland if  we have the time."
Leaning forward between the front seats, Abby asked, "How is it possible that Oliver and I might have a more entertaining spring break than you?"
Sparing a glance at her siblings, Vivien asked, "What do you mean?"
With a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, Oliver announced, "I'm going with Markus' family to New Jersey so we can check out that American Dream place with the indoor water park and ski slope."
"Really?" Vivien asked. Muttering more to herself than anything, she added, "I'm surprised Mom allowed that after you broke your ankle the last time you went on a trip with them."
Abby hummed in agreement before speaking, "And I'm going with Brynna's family to Great Wolf Lodge for her birthday."
"Those sound fun and all," Vivien admitted, "but how is that more fun than literally going across the country?"
"Because you're going to be doing nerd shit while on vacation while we're having actual fun," Oliver stated blandly.
As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, Vivien turned toward her brother with a knowing look, "You say that like you won't be spending hours upon hours researching some cryptid or something with Markus in the hotel room." Peering in the rear-view mirror, Vivien found Abby's gaze and said, "And, Abby, we all know that you and Brynna will spend your time playing with her little siblings instead of just hanging out."
Abby opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it again as she let out a soft sigh, "Yeah, I guess you're right." 
"Just because it's spring break doesn't mean we somehow magically turn into party animals once we're on vacation," Vivien claimed with a shrug as the light turned green, and she continued onward. "We've been ingrained to be responsible regardless of where we are, but I'm sure we'll all still have fun being boring with our friends."
Although they constantly joked about going to big house parties at their friends' houses and getting absolutely trashed on whatever alcohol they could find, none of the O'Brian siblings had actually ever gone to a big house party or willingly gotten drunk. Most of the people at their school weren't interested in big parties either as it would be increasingly difficult to get all of their friends in one town. Since their school was regional, kids from towns almost an hour away would be shuttled in on the handful of school-choice buses, making it hard for big parties to really be a thing. Besides, many, if not all, of the friends the O'Brians had made at the school were relatively introverted kids who cared more about their studies than getting wasted, making their running joke of getting drunk with their friends even more preposterous.
Abby peered out the window at the rain as Oliver said, "You know, I kind of like that we're boring."
"Oh, yeah?" Vivien asked, glancing at her brother as she checked whether or not she could cross through the intersection.
"Mhm," Abby nodded in agreement.
"It means our parents let us hang out with pretty much anyone without really caring," Oliver claimed. "Even if our plans were to go out and do dumb stuff at a friend's house, they wouldn't think anything of us going over there."
Abby thought for a moment before saying, "That's true, but we also would feel pretty bad if we took their trust in us for granted."
This time, it was Vivien's turn to hum in agreement, "Yeah."
For the first time since her parents gave her permission to join their neighbors in their house in California, Vivien felt wary about her decision. Although she knew that they had no qualms about her going to California as they had known the Birch family longer than Vivien had been alive, they had no idea about the other universe they would be taking her to. She had no plans of telling them about it as she had promised to keep it a secret from literally everyone she knew, but the thought that she was, for the first time in her life, taking advantage of her parents' trust to go off galavanting in a world they had no idea about. Even though she had no plans of doing anything wrong or illegal while there, a knot began to form in her stomach at the idea of letting her parents down for keeping such a large secret from them.
Taking a deep breath as she pulled onto their street, Vivien pushed her thoughts aside, allowing her excitement to fill her once more. She could worry about it later when she had Mick to talk her through every insignificant problem her mind could sprout up. For now, she had to get ready for the trip, and with a limited amount of time to get all of her clothes folded, she needed to focus on that. As Vivien's blue Kona pulled into the driveway, their mother stepped outside with a few umbrellas, making her way to the end of the walkway and waiting for Viviebn's car to stop. As soon as the car was in park, Chelsea held her umbrella over the passenger's door and opened it, handing her son an umbrella as he stepped out with his backpack.
Wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself, Abby tapped Vivien's arm and said, "I'll take your metal stuff in so it doesn't get wet."
"Are you sure?" Vivien asked in return as Abby handed her the purple backpack she had kept an eye on during the trip home. "I can take it."
"That's okay," she replied. Once the front passenger's door closed, she quickly took hold of the Walmart bag's handles and added, "I don't think Mom bothered to bring out your umbrella, and I don't want them to get wet."
Hoping to save her sister from having to lug the heavy bag inside, Vivien tried to gently argue, "I'm parking in the garage, Abs, it's not a long walk to the door."
"That's okay," Abby shrugged. "I've already got it. I'll bring it up to your room for you."
Before Vivien could say anything to the contrary, Abby grinned, pushed open her door, and slid out, taking and opening the umbrella her mom handed her before slamming the door and rushing to the house with their mother not far behind. Left with her mouth still open, Vivien breathed, "Thanks," before shaking her head fondly and pressing the button to open the garage. Once her car was parked in the spot furthest from the door, Vivien slid out of her seat, pulling her backpack with her. Glancing out at the pouring rain, the brunette sighed, hauling her backpack onto one shoulder and gripping her keys in her free hand as she rushed into the downpour with a squeal, closing the overhead door with a single click as she raced toward the front door of the house.
Once inside, she closed the door, grateful for the warmth of the house, as she trudged her way to the coat closet and began taking off her now-soaked sneakers. Loki soon joined her on the floor, licking the water from her cheeks as she tossed her sneakers onto the drying rack alongside her siblings' shoes. Running her hands through the dog's fur, Vivien felt herself calm as she thanked the dog for his warm welcome. Pushing herself from the floor, Vivien ascended the stairs with her backpack and her Saint Bernard, grateful her bedroom was near the landing, as Loki shoved his way into her room and onto her bed. With a sigh, Vivien rolled her eyes at the oversized puppy and dropped her backpack onto the floor at the end of her bed, plopping herself onto her mattress as she debated how much time she had to pack.
Not even a minute into her procrastination party, Abby stepped into the room without so much as a knock, snickering at her older sister's dawdling as she passed by. "You know, lying there like a limp spaghetti noodle isn't going to help your bags get packed."
"Okay, Mom," Vivien huffed with a smirk, missing the way Abby visibly winced at being compared to their mother. Taking in a heavy breath, Vivien pushed herself from the bed and sighed, "Is it weird that I'm not ready for this now that I'm leaving?"
"Not really," Abby shrugged as her sister entered the closet and pulled her suitcase down from the top shelf. "You get this way before out-of-state competitions too."
"This is different from comps," Vivien said as she placed her suitcase on the end of her bed and opened the shell. "I don't usually go far without you guys."
Stepping up behind her sister, Abby placed a hand on the older girl's back and smiled once she had Vivien's attention, "You'll have tons of fun and you know it. I'm sure you'll forget all about us once you land."
"That's impossible, Abs," Vivien breathed, pulling the lighter-haired brunette into a hug. "I love you guys too much to not miss you."
Lifting her head enough to see her sister's face, Abby replied, "Trust me, you'll be sick of us by the end of the week. Dad will keep you updated with pictures of Loki every morning like he does when we go to camp, I'll send you pictures of the lodge and everything interesting I see, and I'm sure Olly will send you paragraphs of random facts he and Markus found online while they're away. By the end of vacation, you'll be so sick of us that you'll want to get away the minute you come home."
Vivien laughed, "Probably, yeah."
Stepping out of her sister's hold, Abby grinned and said, "Now, come on, we have packing to do."
Allowing her sister to take the reins, Vivien headed into her closet to figure out what clothes she wanted to bring, hauling her plastic bins of summer clothes down from the top shelf as Abby headed into her en-suite bathroom to pack up the essentials Vivien had typed out on her phone. Once Vivien had fished out a handful of clothes she wanted to bring, she brought them to her desk and dropped them in a heap in her chair. By the time Abby finished getting stuff out of the bathroom and into the suitcase, Vivien was halfway done folding her clothes, something Abby had helped finish in record time. After reassuring her sister that she would be borrowing swimwear from Mick's closet upon her arrival, Vivien threw a couple of pairs of shoes into the mesh pouch on the lid alongside her journal and the astronaut-shaped galaxy projector she kept on her bedside table as a nightlight.
With her packing done quicker than she had anticipated, Vivien sent a text to Mick that she was all set before grabbing a dry hoodie from her closet and hauling the suitcase to the main floor of the house, leaving it near the coat closet so that she could slip on some shoes and get out the door as quickly as possible. Once everything was in place, she and Loki joined her siblings in the living room, where Oliver had begun setting up Mario Kart on the Switch. Sitting in the space the twins had left for her, Vivien took the purple joy-con from the coffee table and slouched into the comfort of the couch cushions as Loki took his place on the floor by her feet.
As she chose her usual character, Yoshi, Vivien's phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her pocket, giving her siblings the chance to argue over who got Baby Bowser. Unlocking her phone, she opened her dad's text and smiled. Peering over Abby's head to where their mother was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping at her freshly-made smoothie while she presumably scrolled through her Facebook, Vivien rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation, thanking their dad for his offer of dinner and asking if he could pick them up their usual McDonald's orders before tucking her phone between her thigh and the couch and picking up her joy-con once again. Breaking up her siblings' argument with ease, Vivien started the game. Once they figured out who got which character, the three of them quickly got immersed in their battle for the first place.
As Oliver overtook Vivien for second place in Coconut Mall, leading the oldest of the siblings to cuss him out and jab him with her elbow, the front door slammed shut, alerting the whole house to the new visitor. Loki let out a bark as he rose from the floor, abandoning his post as the protector in favor of following the smell of french fries and cheeseburgers to the front door. The kids called out greetings to their father as they entered the final lap of their race, getting a chuckled response as Damien made his way through the entryway to the kitchen. Damien set the flimsy drink tray and paper bags plastered with golden arches on the kitchen counters, ignoring the look his ex-wife sent him as he began pulling fries and boxes from the bags and setting them out according to which family member had ordered what.
By the time the kids had finished their race, Chelsea had begun arguing with Damien about the quality of the food he had brought home, but the man seemed unbothered by her attitude, pushing aside her frustrations as the children approached. Stepping aside to allow them access to their meals, Damien accepted quick hugs from each of his children and asked them how their school days had been before following them to the living room. As Abby began to explain how her usually strict English teacher had them watch a movie as he had a migraine, Vivien sat cross-legged in her usual space on the far end of the couch and put one of the throw pillows over her lap so that the plate she put her food onto wouldn't fall.
After her siblings had rambled about their days, Damien turned to Vivien and asked, "What about you, babygirl? Anything fun happen today?"
Vivien shrugged, swallowing her mouthful of french fries before replying, "Not really. I signed up for the battle bot tournament after class."
Before her father could say anything, Abby butted in, "Alix said they saw you at the first round of auditions for the musical. I told them there was no way 'cause you hate being on stage, but they said it was true."
"It was," Vivien admitted before taking a bite of her burger.
Oliver choked on his chicken nugget, coughing a few times before swallowing thickly and asking, "Wait, seriously?"
Nodding, Vivien dipped her sandwich in a pile of ketchup and said, "Yeah. Emily wanted to audition, but didn't want to go alone, so I stepped in. It's not that big of a deal."
"It's a huge deal!" Abby squawked, twisting so that she could see her sister better. "Alix said the drama teachers were thinking of cancelling the other auditions because of you."
"Bull," Vivien scoffed, carefully avoiding the rest of her accusatory cuss as she felt the growing heat of her mother's gaze. "It wasn't even a meaningful audition. I sang some ABBA and ran for the hills; there's nothing impressive about that."
"But Alix said-"
"Alix could have heard wrong," Vivien argued, cutting off her sister's statement before it could spiral out of control. "Besides, even if they do choose me - which they won't - I'll just step down and let the understudy take whatever role I get."
"That would be for the best," Chelsea stated as she stabbed her fork into the grilled chicken salad her ex-husband had bought for her. "We've all seen how you get on stage at your grandparent's camp; putting you in any leading role in front all those people would be so much worse."
Ignoring their mother's statement with a roll of his eyes, Oliver turned to Vivien and said, "You can't back down."
Vivien grinned, sending her brother a curious look as she asked, "Why not?"
"Because!"
"That's not a reason, Olly."
"But it is," Oliver claimed. "We've all heard you sing in the car and you love theatre. This is your chance to see what it's like on Boadway."
"Who says I want to be on Broadway?" Vivien asked with a laugh.
Oliver thought for a moment before saying, "Well, nobody, but-"
"But the school is petitioning to get the Titanic Musical for the April show next year," Damien piped up, eyeing his eldest daughter out of his peripheral vision as she froze, her handful of ketchup-soaked french fries hanging in midair as she processed his claim. Smirking, he added, "If you have at least one show under your belt, they might consider you for one of the primary roles when the time comes."
Excitedly watching the wheels turn in Vivien's head, Abby grabbed her sister's free wrist and wiggled it as she said, "See! If you back down now, you'll never get to be in Titanic next year."
Vivien sighed, green eyes shifting from mild annoyance to fondness as she turned to her younger sister and slipped her fingers between Abby's, "As much as I would love that, there's no chance of me getting the lead."
"Would you at least try out for Titanic next year?" Oliver asked. "That would be right up your alley."
With a snort, Chelsea chortled, "She would probably spend all her time critiquing the accuracy of everything."
"Actually," Vivien began, finding a sliver of courage to meet her mother's gaze, "the show is fairly accurate when it comes to representing the people aboard the ship that night. The historical details are only slightly manipulated to add more drama, and-"
"See," Chelsea began, glancing between her children and ex-husband, "she's already at it."
Abby opened her mouth to argue, but Vivien's grip on her hand tightened, telling her to back down before things could get worse. Abby's bluish-brown eyes found Vivien's emerald gaze, and with a shake of her head, Abby resigned, returning to her food with a barely audible sigh. Refusing to let their last family dinner before spring break be soured by the cutthroat words of his ex-wife, Damien took the remote from the coffee table and switched the input back to the Roku before letting the kids decide between two of the movies on their watchlist - The Outsiders and The Truman Show.
With the rather unanimous vote of The Truman Show, the family settled in once more and relaxed as they watched Jim Carrey's character come to life. Not long into the movie, Abby shifted between Vivien and their father, and it wasn't long before she was sprawled out over the two with her head on Vivien's lap and her legs on their dad's. Once Abby had settled into a comfortable position, Vivien began absentmindedly running her fingers through the girl's lighter hair, calming both of them at once as Truman watched his dad get shoved into a bus and taken away. However, further into the movie, as Truman began drawing a spacesuit around his reflection, Vivien's phone began to ring, and she quickly stood, shoving a somewhat disgruntled Abby off her lap and taking her trash with her to the kitchen before answering the phone. 
After checking the caller ID, she smiled, tossed her trash into the bin next to the refrigerator, and quietly said, "Please tell me you're on your way."
A snort came from the other end as Mick replied, "Hello to you, too. I mean, damn, child, are you that willing to run away from home?"
Vivien glanced at her family and chuckled, "Maybe a little."
"Well, good," Mick replied. "We're pulling into the driveway now, so come out when you're ready."
Snickering to herself, Vivien said, "I thought you already knew I was bi, Mickie."
"Look, rugrat," Mick snipped, though Vivien could clearly hear the humor in her tone. "We're parked by the garage, but bring a rain coat or something; it's pouring."
"Still?"
"Yup."
Vivien sighed, "Alright, I'll be out in a few." She sucked in a deep breath and smiled to herself as Mick hung up her end of the call. Vivien headed back to the living room and grinned as she noticed Oliver holding the remote, keeping the movie paused until her return. Ruffluing her brother's hair, she cooed, "Aww, Olly-bear! Did you pause the movie just for me?"
Shoving her hand away, Oliver ran his hand through his hair and scoffed, "No, I just didn't want to have to rewind it for you."
"Yeah, sure," Abby drawled sarcastically as she punched her twin's thigh.
Chuckling as the twins began arguing over Oliver's ability - or lack thereof - to show kindness, Damien twisted in his seat, found Vivien's gaze, and asked, "Was that Mick and her parents?"
"Yeah, they just pulled up," Vivien nodded, glancing toward the front door.
With a smile, he asked, "Are you ready to go, babygirl?"
Vivien excitedly nodded, but her excitement seemed to dim as Chelsea asked, "Go where, exactly?"
"To California," Vivien explained. "You know, for spring break?"
"I never said you could go," Chelsea stated, finally looking up from her phone with steely eyes. "A trip like that requires planning, and I highly doubt you, of all people, are prepared to fly three thousand miles across the country for a week in some random city you've never been to."
Before Vivien could argue, Damien turned to his ex and said, "She asked both of us months ago, and, actually, she's had everything planned out since I gave her permission. Vivien's a smart girl; she wouldn't jump into something without proper planning."
"She even helped Abs and I plan our trips with our friends," Oliver piped up.
Placing a hand on her dad's shoulder and glancing toward her brother, Vivien thanked him with a smile before turning toward their mom and saying, "And, since Dad gave me permission, I can go, right, Mom?"
Chelsea took in a deep breath, glancing between Damien and Vivien with a stare that would end wars, but finally, she picked up her phone and huffed, "Fine. Go."
Hoping to get out the door before her mother could change her mind again, Vivien began making her way to the door, only to hear footsteps rushing up behind her. Turning, Vivien smiled as Abby and Oliver jogged up to her, Abby wrapping her in a hug as Oliver stood to the side with a grin. Squeezing her older sister, Abby pleaded, "Take lots of pictures for me, sissy."
Letting out a breath of a laugh, Vivien waited until Abby stepped back before taking her keys from the hook by the door and pushing them into the palm of her sister's hand. At Abby's confused look, she said, "Can you put them in your lockbox for me? I don't want Mom to use my car while I'm gone just 'cause it has lower mileage than hers."
Nodding in understanding, Abby softly asked, "Do you want your diary in there too?"
Vivien shook her head, "I'm taking it with me, but thank you."
Oliver shuffled closer, hinting at his desire for a final hug before his oldest sister's departure as he asked, "What about your fancy rocks?"
Wrapping her arms around Oliver's shoulders, she replied, "I took a few with me, but I doubt Mom will do anything with them because most of the ones I left are big and would be obvious if they went missing."
"If you're sure," Oliver mumbled into Vivien's shoulder before patting her back and slipping out of her grasp.
Once she took a step back, Vivien reached into her pocket and pulled out two colorful crystals, holding one out to either of her siblings, "For Abby, some charoite. It's good for keeping away negativity and helping you see a new side of yourself. Hopefully, it'll help you relax while you're away."
Abby smiled at the purple rock, shifting it in the light to see the different hues before thanking her sister and pocketing the crystal. Then, with a roll of his eyes and a smirk, Oliver accepted the smooth green lump and said, "Let me guess, this is some hard-to-pronounce rock too."
"Actually, no," Vivien snickered. "It's green aventureine and it's good for creativity, luck, and opportunities. I figured, with all the activities you'll be doing, and the theories you'll be picking apart, it would be nice to take with you."
Rolling the crystal around in his palm, Oliver allowed his smirk to spread into a smile as he handed Vivien her raincoat and said, "Have fun in Cali, Vivi."
Vivien smiled but didn't have the chance to respond as her father entered the room and said, "She will. Brady and Mack reassured me that they had a fun week planned."
Finding her dad's tired eyes, Vivien slotted herself in his arms and asked, "Will you be alright here without us for a week?"
"I'll be fine," Damien claimed as he ran a soothing hand over Vivien's hair. "Your mother is going on one of her work trips on Monday, so I'll be alone most of the time you kids are away."
Peering up at her father, Vivien smiled, "A week of empty-nesting, huh? That'll be interesting for you."
Damien pressed a kiss to Vivien's forehead and smiled, "It'll be over before I know it. Now, do you have everything?" Vivien nodded. "Are you sure? You've got your toothbrush, hairbrush?"
"I'm sure, Dad," Vivien chuckled. "And, before you ask, yes, I have the taser pen Riven's dad gave me. I took the batteries out and everything, just like he taught me."
Nodding, Damien sighed, "Good. I know I'm overthinking this, but I don't want you to be in a strange city without protection."
"I know," Vivien said with a knowing smirk. "And I don't blame you. It would be stupid of me to go without anything."
Damien hummed before smiling at his oldest girl, "I had your sister sneak something into your bag from the three of us, but promise me you won't open it until you get where you're going and have the chance to settle in."
Glancing at her sister, wondering when she could have slipped something into her luggage, Vivien smiled and said, "I won't, I promise."
"Good," he said, more for himself than his daughter. Then, patting her arm, Damien told Vivien, "Alright, well, get going before I chicken out."
"Alright, alright," Vivien snickered as she rolled her eyes up at her dad. "I'm going."
Allowing his daughter to step away and pull the zipper of her raincoat up as far as it would go, Damien pulled up her suitcase handle and held it out for her to take as he breathed, "Have fun, sweetheart."
"I'll try."
Placing a hand over Vivien's, he smiled, "You will." Once Vivien nodded in agreement, he requested, "Let us know when you land, okay?"
"Of course," Vivien beamed, anticipation bubbling up in her chest as she nodded excitedly. "I'll let you know when we get to their house too."
As Oliver opened the door and Vivien stepped out, Abby said, "I'll let Mom know you said goodbye."
Vivien crossed the threshold of the house and dragged her luggage with her, waving to the Birches and saying, "Thanks. I'll see you guys in ten days."
"Have fun!" Abby called as Vivien rushed through the rain to the Birch family's minivan.
"Enjoy the sun!" Damien said as Brady helped Vivien haul her suitcase into the trunk before closing it.
"Don't get wasted on the beach!" Oliver added, earning him a middle finger from his oldest sister and a tap on the back of the head from their dad. "What?" he asked rhetorically as Vivien hopped into the van and rolled the window down. "I'm just saying."
As the vehicle began to roll down the driveway, Vivien leaned out as far as the seatbelt would allow and yelled, "Love you!"
As her family called back in kind, Vivien rolled up the window and relaxed in her seat, earning a chuckle from Mick as the older brunette greeted her, "You look like a wet dog."
Laughing breathlessly, Vivien pushed her stringy, wet bangs away from her forehead and sighed, "I probably smell like one too, to be honest with you."
Mick pretended to sniff the air before grinning, "Only a little bit."
Vivien smiled and tipped her head to the side, finding Mick's gaze as she sighed, "I hope I don't look like a drowned rat when Royce sees me."
Mack laughed from the passenger's seat, leaning over the center console to see Vivien as she reassured her, "You won't, sweetheart. We'll make sure of it."
"I mean," Brady drawled as he pulled out onto the main roads, seemingly weighing his options until Mack slapped his arm with the back of her hand.
"Brady!"
"Kidding!" the man chuckled, somewhat proud of his playful jibe as the girls in the backseat snickered.
Vivien sighed contentedly as she relaxed into the van's faded, somewhat worn fabric seats, "I've missed this."
"You won't be saying that for long," Mack claimed. "By the end of the first week, you'll be begging us to send you home."
"Doubtful," Vivien replied with a smile. The idea of spending any length of time in the world Mick had been talking her ear off about since the day she discovered it back in December had been like something of a fantasy for Vivien. Now that she actually had the chance to see the places in her friends' pictures, the thought of cutting her stay short for anything other than the most dire circumstances was bizarre. "I'm pretty sure you'll have to drag me away kicking and screaming."
"Well, we certainly won't be doing that," Brady laughed.
"Yeah," Mick agreed, taking Vivien's hand with a brilliant smile. "You can stay there with us for as long as you want."
"And time here won't change, right?" Vivien recounted.
"Right," Mack agreed. "That machine will allow you to stay as long as you like without anything changing."
Mick nodded, watching Vivien's thoughtful eyes flicker behind her circular frames as she explained, "We turn the time control mechanism off while we're in this world so that they can enjoy life normally there, but we freeze time here so that we can enjoy things without having to go back and forth to pay bills and stuff like that."
Vivien grinned, "Like taking random teenagers into different dimensions without their parents feeling the need to call everypolice department in the tate to see if they can send out search parties?"
"I guess you could say that," Brady snorted as he pulled onto the turnpike and pressed the gas pedal further toward the floor.
The conversation seemed to split from there as Mack pulled up the directions to the airport on her phone, telling Brady to slow down before they reached a particular spot the state troopers liked to park in order to catch people speeding on the turnpike. Watching trees and distant buildings fly by as the car sped up, Vivien pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the Discord chat she had with her bandmates, sending them a selfie of herself and Mick before hastily typing a message about them finally being on the road.
Erica was the first to respond - her text of "bitch, you bettr not become a fuckign valley girl!" appearing just before Riven's "Have fun, Pip! Don't get eaten by a shark; I need you for comp" and followed soon after by Jade's ever-calm message of, "ignore their bs. we love you. stay safe. xoxo." Vivien snickered as the trio began blowing up her phone; Erica starting an argument with Riven about sharks being harmless while also telling Jade to fuck off for being the responsible one.
"You good over there?" Mick asked, her humor evident as Vivien glanced up from her phone.
Holding out the device and leaning over so that they could both watch the drama unfold, Vivien explained, "Erica's being a bitch, Riven is a sarcastic shit, and Jade's acting like a mother hen, so Erica picked a fight with both of them."
Mick watched as Erica sent a wall of text that only consisted of the middle finger emoji, snickering, "So, a normal day, then?"
"Pretty much," Vivien agreed. As they watched conversation bubbles appear and Erica's rant spiral into nonsense, her smile faltered. She would miss them while she was away. Even when her family went on vacations, Riven would go with them, and she could text the girls anytime she wanted. This time, her ability to message them and ask them for advice on things would be revoked the minute she entered the other world. With a heavy sigh, she admitted, "I'm going to miss them."
Taking in the girl's expression, Mick reached up and placed a hand on Vivien's back, rubbing circles into her plastic raincoat as she said, "It'll suck for a few days, but after a while, you sort of get used to it."
Peering up at the older girl, Vivien allowed herself to smile, "You're talking from experience, aren't you?"
"Sadly," Mick confirmed. "My instincts were to take pictures of everything to show my friends when I got back, but then I realized I couldn't. It took a while to adjust and my phone is still full of pictures nobody else has seen, but after a while, I got used to just saving the memories for myself."
Nodding in understanding, Vivien breathed, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I can send them some pictures when I get back, but until then, I can keep them to myself."
Pivoting in her seat, Mick turned toward Vivien and asked, "So, what are your plans for Royce? Are we doing a casual surprise where you just walk in and say hi or are we doing something grand in front of everyone?"
"I don't know," Vivien shrugged. "I haven't really given it a lot of thought. I was more concerned about my mom keeping me from going."
"Well, now we've got time to think it through!" Mick exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
“Not much time,” Mack explained. “We’ll be at the airport in about five, maybe ten minutes, and since we have a private flight, we’ll be in the air within the hour.”
“You guys never told me you have a private jet,” Vivien stated. “Like, I knew you guys had money, but damn.”
“It’s not ours,” Mick shrugged.
“One of my friends from school became a pilot,” Brady explained. “He’s offered us free trips whenever we need it since he knows how often we travel to the East coast and it gives him the opportunity to visit some family of his in Vermont.”
Vivien hummed, more to herself than to anyone in the vehicle, “That’s nice of him.”
After a moment of relative silence, Mick patted Vivien’s hand and told her, “Anyway, regardless of what you decide to do, Royce will be surprised.”
“You think?” Vivien asked. “I thought someone would have told him by now.”
Mick shook her head emphatically, beaming proudly as she explained, “Actually, I haven’t told anybody that you’re coming.”
Vivien’s eyes glittered with excitement as she asked, “Seriously?”
Mick nodded, her wavy hair bouncing with the movement, “The only person who knows is Butchy, and he’s not one to spill things like that.”
“That’s insane!” Vivien exclaimed, a laugh tumbling from her lips at the thought of surprising her friends with her sudden appearance in their world.
“I know, right!” Mick giggled. “But that means we have endless possibilities for surprising people. It all depends on where they are at the time.”
“When we land, it will be about one in the morning, Pacific Time,” Mack explained. “On a commercial flight, we usually stop a few times along the way to swap planes or pick up new passengers, but since this is private, we’re going to stop in New Jersey for a few minutes due to busy airways, and then get back in the air.”
“That will give us plenty of time to think about it,” Mick said cheerfully.
“And give both of you the chance to sleep,” Brady reminded his daughter, peering at her in the rearview mirror before he pulled onto the street that led them to the airport. “We don’t need both of you to be zombies when we touch down.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mick brushed off with a wave of her hand, her excitement over the whole situation outweighing the concept of sleep. “Anyway, I’ve got ideas for both options, and we can talk about them on the plane, if you want.”
Sending the older girl a smile and a nod, Vivien watched Mick smile and relax in her seat; pulling out her phone as Vivien took in a slow breath and glanced out the window. As they passed the Mall of New Hampshire, Vivien snapped a quick picture of the building and sent it to the group chart that had begun to quiet without her presence there to encourage the chaos, sending a cheeky message teasing the two girls who worked within the large, stucco and concrete building. Jade was the first to respond, her video message of her waving to the camera, arriving on Vivien’s phone as they pulled up to a gated parking lot. As Brady began speaking to the guard, listing the passengers and which flight they were on, Vivien sent a private message to Riven, telling him how nervous she was about being on a private plane.
‘You have nothing to worry about, Pip,’ was his reply. ‘The Birches know what they’re doing and wouldn’t put you in danger like that. Just breathe. You’ve got this.’
Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, Vivien sent back a reply of gratitude and tried to relax as the car lurched forward and moved past the gate. Mack popped open the console between herself and Brady, pulling out a trio of passports before turning toward Vivien and asking, “Do you have your passport ready?”
Reaching under her rain coat and into the pocket of her hoodie, Vivien pulled the navy blue booklet out and handed it up to Mack, who added it to the stack in her hands. As they rolled down the tarmac, Vivien watched through the windows, trying to guess which aircraft they would be in. Narrowing it down the further they got, Vivien let out a noise of surprise as Brady turned to the side, lurching her toward the door as he pulled to a stop in a parking space. Looking around in confusion, Vivien followed the others out of the car, following Mack to the back of the vehicle, where they pulled their luggage from the trunk.
Mick grabbed Vivien’s free hand, pulling her toward a jet that had the door open and a set of stairs waiting. Pushing the handles of their suitcases down and picking them up by the straps on top, the girls boarded the plane, pushing their suitcases to the side to be scanned before finding seats to collapse into. Nudging Vivien into a window seat, Mick took the seat across from her and relaxed, waiting for her parents to board before instructing the younger girl to buckle up.
After the pilot came to greet them, telling them all the basics he needed to go over before the flight, he returned to the cockpit and announced that they would be leaving as soon as he had permission from the traffic control tower. With much reassurance from the others, Vivien began to relax, snapping pictures of the plane and the setting sun to send to her friends and family. After another announcement came over the speakers about taking off, they were in the air, and Vivien’s phone returned to her pocket as the seatbelt lights turned off. Peeling off her rain coat and shoving it into the seat next to her, Vivien huffed a sigh of relief as she realized the part she had worried about the most was now over.
Watching as the ground below grew smaller and harder to see, Vivien turned her attention to Mick, who had folded her arms on top of the table between them, leaning closer with a smile that told Vivien she didn’t want to know what the girl was going to get her into. “Do I want to know?” she asked the older brunette.
Vivien could hear the girl’s feet thumping against the base of her chair as she swung her legs back and forth, but Mick’s smile refused to dissipate as she explained, “I’ve been cooking up ideas for you.”
Nodding to herself, Vivien rolled her eyes, “Yup, didn’t want to know.”
Ignoring the girl’s statement, Mick said, “I was thinking-”
“That’s dangerous,” Brady chuckled from his seat on the opposite side of the plane.
“Dad,” Mick sighed dramatically. When the older man snickered and struck up a conversation with his wife, Mick turned her attention back to Vivien with a roll of her caramel eyes. “I figured that, once we land, we can-”
“Go to sleep?” Vivien interrupted.
“Ha!” Mick laughed. “No.”
“Yes,” Mack said, her motherly tone giving Mick little to no wiggle room as she deflated slightly.
“Okay, yeah, that too,” Mick relented. “But we can pick out some cute outfits from my closet and make sure you feel beautiful before we go.” Pointedly turning toward her mom, Micxk asked, “Right, Momma?”
“So long as you two aren’t up all night, yes,” Mack replied before taking a sip of the water bottle she had taken from the cabin’s mini fridge. “Now, Vivien, did you have anything to eat, sweetheart? They have sandwiches and things in the fridge, if you’d like.”
“That’s alright,” Vivien brushed off graciously. “Dad brought home some Mickey D’s on his way home from work.”
“I’m surprised he made it through the warden with that,” Brady said in a scoff.
Vivien smirked as the other two women gave their own forms of agreement, simply glad she wasn’t the only one who found her mother’s strict food control to be something of a nightmare. “Yeah, well, he didn’t exactly give her a choice. He came in, gave her a salad to shut her up, and let us get our meals without letting her anger break him down.”
“Good for him,” Mick grinned.
“Glad to know he’s finally growing bigger balls than hers,” Mack added. “I think we’ve all been placing bets to see how long that would take.”
With a hum of agreement, Vivien allowed the conversation to flow between topics, absentmindedly bringing up the subject of the battle bot project she wanted to work on when they got the chance, something that made Mick practically vibrate with excitement. Brady brought up the idea of using his tools if need be, which inspired Mick to go off on a spiel about possibly going to either Butchy’s or Miles’ place of work to utilize their welding kits and use some of the metal scraps they had tossed aside. By the time Mack had managed to pull them away from the topic at hand, they were starting to make their descent at an airport in Newark, New Jersey.
Before the plane took off again, Vivien sent a few relatively dark images and some quick messages to the people who knew she was leaving before stepping into the bathroom of the jet to call her aunts before they went to bed. They discussed the trip and spoke for a while about all of the activities Vivien was looking forward to before they wished each other a good night. Vivien promised to let them know when they landed before ending the call and scurrying back to her seat as the captain announced their approaching departure. Once they were back in the air and allowed to roam about, Mick showed Vivien how to recline her seat and find a comfortable position to sleep in before offering the girl a blanket and promptly passing out in her chair.
One by one, Vivien watched as the Birch family succumbed to the land of dreams, but despite her growing exhaustion and yawns tumbling from her mouth every other minute, she couldn’t find it in herself to actually sleep. She could have easily chalked up her inability to sleep to her nerves, but that wasn’t quite right. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew that there was nothing to worry about. Royce and Bentley would love to drag her around, Carrie had promised to take her to the lot they were filming on if she ever found herself in their world, and even Butchy and Miles had discussed dragging her to their respective jobs to show her knowledge of old vehicles off to their respective coworkers. There was nothing for her to be worked up over.
Forcing herself to take in a deep breath and push her unfounded fears aside, Vivien allowed another yawn to overtake her as she stretched. Reclining her seat and tugging her blanket around her shoulders, Vivien slouched into a more comfortable position, tucked her cell phone into her pocket, set her glasses on the table between herself and Mick’s slumbering form, and waited until the soft humming of the plane’s machinery lulled her to sleep. To her dismay, what felt like only a few minutes passed before Vivien found herself being gently shaken awake, grumbling at the interruption as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
A chuckle came from a blurry form as Vivien searched blearily for her glasses, listening to the person apologize in a soft voice before handing her the glasses she was searching for. Finally peering up at the person, Vivien found Brady smiling back at her, offering her a hand as he told her, “We just landed, kiddo. Time to go home.”
Chuckling exhaustedly as she stretched herself out like a cat rising from a comfortable position in the summer sun, Vivien muttered, “Am I too old to ask for someone to carry me?”
Brady let out another soft laugh, “Never, but I haven’t carried anybody in years, and I’d rather not drop you down the stairs of a plane.”
Vivien snorted and pushed herself from her seat, “Yeah, let’s not do that, then.”
“Smart girl,” Mack advised, patting the teenager on the back as she passed her on her way back from the bathroom.
As Brady worked on waking Mick from her slumber, Vivien folded up the blanket she had used, made sure she had everything she brought with her, and followed Mack to the front of the plane, where they received their belongings. Yawning as she followed Mack down the stairs, Vivien welcomed the warm California air with a tired grin. “It’s nice out,” she muttered as Mack led her toward a pale blue Jeep that had been brought onto the tarmac for them.
Accepting her car keys from the driver who brought the car over, Mack chuckled, “My phone says it’s fifty-something right now.”
More than content with the idea of the summer-like weather, Vivien sighed happily as she hauled her suitcase into the trunk of the car alongside Mack’s, “Like I said, I think you guys will have to drag me kicking and screaming from this place.”
Bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders, Mack smiled, “Just wait until you see how close we are to the beach.”
Vivien’s eyes glittered as the woman brought her to the side of the car, encouraging her to climb inside as Mack slid into the driver’s seat. However, before she climbed inside the vehicle, Vivien pulled out her phone and took a picture of the plane they landed in, sending it to the group chat with her bandmates before sending a message to her family members, letting everyone know they had landed safely in Santa Ana and were on their way to the Birch family’s home. Once she was sure the messages had been sent, Vivien slid into the backseat behind Mack and pulled the seatbelt across her body. Once the others had found their way to the car, Mack started the engine and pulled away from the plane, heading through a series of gates before making her way to the street and pulling away from the John Wayne Airport.
Unable to fall back asleep as they pulled onto the San Diego Freeway, Vivien watched with wide eyes as she took in the glow of the city. Throughout the half-hour drive, Vivien took a myriad of pictures. Glowing palm trees, buildings in the distance that appeared to touch the sky, and, as the freeway pulled them through San Juan Capistrano toward the beach, pictures of a seemingly endless night sky over the water. Smiling as he watched the girl take another picture, Brady encouraged his wife to take the long way home without saying a word, and Mack took the next exit, pulling onto Pacific Coast Highway and following it until the first set of lights she could turn at. At the next intersection, she turned onto Park Lantern and followed the street toward the water until it merged with Coast Highway.
The couple suppressed their laughter as Vivien gasped, leaning over their daughter to take pictures of the water that was still covered by a blanket of stars in the nighttime sky. Once houses began to block her view, Vivien relaxed, but her excitement was still very much palpable as the car glided down the highway. Turning toward the backseat, Brady kept his voice hushed as they slowed to a stop at a red light, “If you want a good shot, our street sign is right up here.”
“Really?” Vivien whispered.
Brady hummed in confirmation, “It’s on the light post up here on your side.”
Sure enough, as Vivien leaned closer to her window and squinted up at the post, she found a green sign with the words “Camino Capistrano” in thick, white writing. Although her cell phone refused to see the sign in the dark, Vivien smiled and kept her eyes on it until they had turned onto the aforementioned street and could no longer see the sign. Smiling more to herself than anything, Vivien watched with bated breath as Mack drove further up the street, past a traffic light, and through a curve. When they finally pulled to a stop in front of a fancy black gate with a Mediterranean-style roof and a few doors on either side, Vivien felt her jaw hit the floor.
Contrary to popular opinion, Vivien’s family had money. For a while in her childhood, her family had lived in an apartment that barely gave them enough room to live, but they had enough money to put food on the table and buy new things here and there. After her grandparents offered them the opportunity to move into their old house and take over the winery while they moved closer to their beloved summer camp, Vivien felt as though she was the luckiest person on the planet. While they weren’t exactly Elon Musk-level rich, the winery her parents operated and her grandparent’s summer camp made them more than financially secure. Knowing she had the chance to take on their jobs in the future, Vivien thought she would become richer than she had ever previously thought possible. However, as she got her first look at the Birch’s house, she realized she didn’t know shit about rich people.
Being well off on the East Coast meant having a home you owned, a car or two, and potentially a pet if you felt like it. Most people back home enjoyed taking up residence in old, colonial-style homes that would set them back a good hundred thousand dollars at least and were originally built for families with eleven or twelve children. East Coast wealth was classy, clean, and, well, antique. West Coast wealth, on the other hand, was a new kind of expensive. Stepping out of the car once they rolled to a stop in the four-car garage, Vivien couldn’t help but feel poor in every sense of the word.
Although Vivien had seen bits and pieces of the house over FaceTime with Mick, the sheer size of the house was astonishing. Following closely behind her friend, Vivien’s eyes scanned from the large, orange roof to the various balconies, to the swimming pool that seemed to wrap around the side of the house, and the various water guns and toys strewn about in the yard that were evidence that her friends from another world had visited before the Birches had come to collect her. Entering the house, Vivien waited for the lights to turn on before looking around at the pristine entryway. A large glass chandelier hung above the entrance, glimmering rays of light throughout the hall and part of the living room.
Although Vivien felt more than awake and ready to explore the luxurious home, Mack and Brady urged her to follow Mick upstairs once she had taken her shoes off by the door. Relenting despite her excitement, Vivien followed Mick up the hardwood stairs, grinning at the various childhood photographs of Mick and her friends along the wall as they climbed. Coming to the landing, Vivien found herself taken aback once more by the view. Across from the top of the stairs was a panoramic view of the beach across the street, a comfortable lounge area settled facing the floor-to-ceiling windows with a television mounted on the right wall - the only one without windows.
Before she could take a moment to process the kitchenette on one side of the staircase or the gaming area on the other, Vivien found herself taken by the wrist around the banister to a short hallway with three doors. They passed a room with Mick’s initial painted on the door, but Mick didn’t so much as glance toward her bedroom before opening the door to another room at the end of the hall and stepping aside for Vivien to enter.
With a yawn, the short brunette explained, “This used to be one of our guest rooms, but the boys usually take it when they stay with us, so a lot of Bentley art supplies and Royce’s books stay here.”
Looking up at the coffered, waffle-esque design on the ceiling and the various signs of life in the room, Vivien let out a disbelieving laugh, “This is insane.”
Mick took a look around and sighed at how poorly she had cleaned the room before leaving the week before, “Yeah, I know it’s not the cleanest right now, but we can pick everything up in the morning if you-”
“No, no, no!” Vivien said with a quick shake of her head, turning back toward her friend with a smile as she stood her suitcase by the end of the queen-sized bed. “Mick, you don’t understand.”
Confused in part by the conversation and part by her lack of sleep, Mick’s head tipped slightly to the side as she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I thought my house was big and that we were well off,” Vivien began, twirling around as she examined the room before finding Mick’s gaze again, “but I think yours just bitch-slapped my whole family onto the poverty line!”
Mick let out a snort, shaking her head fondly, “Well, don’t start comparing dick sizes just yet, gremlin. Save that for a time when I can actually think straight.”
“I hardly ever think straight,” Vivien smirked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed she had been given.
With a roll of her eyes and a fond smile, Mick teased, “Believe me, I know. Now, try to get some sleep. You don’t want jet lag to knock you out on your ass later.”
Raising her hand to her forehead in a mock salute, Vivien said, “Sir, yes, sir.”
Chuckling, Mick wished the younger girl a good night before disappearing into the hall, leaving the girl’s door open so that she could see the dimly lit lights in the hallway. Taking in a deep breath in the silence of her new room, Vivien hefted her suitcase onto the bed beside her and unzipped it, pulling out her astronaut lamp and setting it aside before tugging a pair of celestial pajama shorts and a matching tank top from one side of her suitcase. Picking up the luggage, she carried it over to a chair and left it open in the seat, changed into her pajamas, plugged in her lamp, and slipped under the covers with her headphones in one hand and phone in the other.
Putting on her headphones and listening to one of her favorite ASMR channels while watching the stars dance across the ceiling, Vivien finally found herself able to fall asleep relatively quickly. Dreams of surfing cerulean waves with her friends filled her night, and by the time the sun had begun poking through the curtains on either side of her bed, Vivien felt well-rested and ready to start her day. After hastily getting dressed in something appropriate for the eighty-three-degree weather her phone forecasted, Vivien took her time examining the house as she made her way down to the kitchen. Mick’s bedroom had already been vacated, and if the voices floating up the stairs were anything to go by, she was with her parents.
Making her way through the house to the kitchen, Vivien smiled as she listened to her friend’s family converse. The energy in the Birch’s house was always somewhat calming to Vivien, an environment where she could relax and feel at home regardless of what they were up to that day, but the feeling of belonging never wavered, no matter how far apart they truly were. Watching Mick dance around with her mother to the music on the radio, Vivien smiled as she leaned against the island counter. Brady nudged her arm as the song changed, beaming at the new addition to their household before offering her his hand. 
Without much hesitation, Vivien placed her hand in Brady’s and allowed him to lead her in a bouncy dance that twirled them around the kitchen as Vivien giggled. Mack and her daughter stopped after a while to watch the pair, listening to Vivien half-sing, half-shriek her way through the lyrics as Brady spun her around the kitchen with ease. As the song came to an end, he twirled Vivien away, grinning as she laughed over the voice of the radio host.
Once her vision had stopped spinning, Vivien giggled, “Good morning, America!”
Brady chuckled, “Good way to get the blood pumping early in the morning, right, kiddo?”
Vivien nodded, but it was Mack who spoke, “We find it’s nice to do something fun before you start your day.”
“Speaking of starting your day,” Mick began as Vivien climbed onto one of the stools on the side of the island, “are you feeling up to leaving yet?”
“Makana,” Mack scolded lightly, “let the poor girl wake up first.”
Vivien smiled as Mick sighed dramatically, but she shook her head as she turned to the older woman. “It’s alright, Mrs B. I think I’m too excited to be tired.”
Sighing as he opened the fridge, Brady said, “Well, that’s good because I think we’re going to have to have breakfast at Butchy and Lela’s house this morning.”
Mack appeared confused for a moment before realization dawned on her face, “We forgot to pick up food last night.”
Mick shrugged, “It was two in the morning.”
With a shake of his head, Brady turned to his daughter and asked, “Do you mind us using your kitchen?”
Before Mick could reply, Vivien asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to go to Big Momma’s for breakfast since we have to go there anyway?”
“It would be,” Mick replied with a nod, “but by the time we pry Lela off of you, it’ll be time for lunch.” Turning back to her parents as Vivien nodded in understanding, she said, “Butchy and I can make up something while everyone gets settled in.”
Mack nodded and turned her attention back to Vivien before asking, “Would you like to go now, then? Do you have anything you would like to bring with you?”
Vivien thought for a moment before nodding, “I brought some stuff with me that I wanted to show everyone. Can I run up and grab it?”
“You don’t have to ask, Vivien,” Brady insisted. Nodding toward the stairs, he said, “Just go; we’ll still be here when you come back.”
As Vivien slid out of her seat, Mick patted her arm excitedly and said, “Just put your clothes on the bed and take your whole suitcase. I’m, like, ninety-three percent sure you’ll leave with more clothes than you came with.”
Her excitement surging at the idea, Vivien nodded and hurried for the stairs, bounding up them two at a time and pushing aside her desire to explore the large home as she headed for her room. Moving her suitcase from the chair she left it on to the end of her bed, Vivien began pulling out a majority of her daily clothes, leaving her essentials, headphones, charger cords, astronaut lamp, the envelope with her name on it that her siblings and father had given her before she left home, and a few items of clothing Carrie and Lela had let her “borrow” and never got back. Once she was certain she had everything she wanted to bring with her for however long she would be away, Vivien zipped up her bag and took in a deep breath. Glancing out the window at San Clemente, Vivien smiled at the knowledge that, within mere minutes, she would be transported into a world she had only ever heard in stories and seen in a movie.
Grabbing her suitcase by the handle, Vivien left her bedroom and headed for the stairs, lifting her bag before her descent and taking the handle once she’d reached the landing. Practically skipping to the kitchen, Vivien beamed at the Birches as she cheered, “Ready for liftoff!”
Happy to show off his work to a new person, Brady clapped his hands and gestured toward the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard, “After you, kiddo.”
Vivien took the lead, opening one side of the door and sucking in a sharp breath as she was hit full-force with the heat of Southern California. Mick snickered, wrapping an arm around Vivien and guiding her toward the shed at the back of their property as she chuckled, “Welcome to California.”
‘Ugh,” Vivien groaned, “is it always like this?”
“Not always, no,” Mick claimed, “but believe me, summers are much worse in Florida.”
Hoping the older girl was simply joking, Vivien remained quiet until Mick ushered her into the shed, and she was made to carefully toe her way around scrapped projects and stray tools until she reached the yellow, tube-shaped behemoth pressed securely against the back wall. A large flower Vivien recalled seeing on a surfboard hanging on the wall in the Birch’s home was engraved into metal at the very top of the machine, wires and metal bars sticking out behind it in a haphazard yet efficient way. Pulling the handle on the right side of the machine, Vivien stepped back as the rounded glass panel at the front slid back into the left side of the machine.
With a gentle nudge from Mack, Vivien stepped into the machine, followed soon after by the family who had brought her there. As the glass door slid closed again, Mick took her friend's free hand and told her to hang on to her belongings before instructing her to watch out the window to see things change around them. Somewhat cautious of the machine as it whirred to life, Vivien watched as a vibrant glow from above seemed to illuminate the otherwise dark mechanic's shed. A soft hum filled the air as colors began to swirl outside the machine, a kaleidoscope of hues coming to life in a vibrant array that faintly reminded Vivien of a show she had seen as a child. The colors grew brighter and more vibrant, rivaling the LED lights Vivien knew Oliver had lining his ceiling before slowly dimming and allowing Vivien to see her first glimpse of another world.
Although she didn't want to appear let down by the view she was given, Vivien couldn't help her quirked brow and immediate response of, "It's an old pickup in a dark garage. Cool."
Nudging her friend with her elbow, Mick stepped around her to open the door and snorted, "It's Butchy's. Now, come on."
Taken by the hand. Vivien was dragged into the house and pulled toward the kitchen, where running water could be heard just over the sound of Chubby Checker's song The Twist that played over the radio. As she came to a stop, Vivien felt a smile split her face as she took in the striped wallpaper and yellow cabinets, the vibrant colors of the room making it feel even more inviting than she thought it would. Tilting so she could see around Mick, Vivien held in a laugh with a hand over her mouth as Butchy turned off the faucet, and Lela's voice could be heard as she danced to the music beside him. It wasn't until the music came to an end and the radio host began speaking about the next song that the raven-haired girl noticed the new figures in her house.
Lela jumped and pressed a hand to her chest, her instinctive reaction to cuss out her sister-in-law cut short as she spotted the taller brunette standing behind Mick. Letting out a screech so shrill Butchy flinched behind her, Lela rocketed forward, all but shoving Mick out of the way in order to wrap her arms around her younger friend. Rocking Vivien from one side to the other, Lela excitedly asked, "What are you doing here?!"
"It's spring break back home," Vivien explained as Lela moved back just enough to squish her cheeks in her hands. With her lips resembling that of a goldfish, Vivien continued, "I wanted to surprise everyone."
Prying his sister's hands away from the sixteen-year-old's face, Butchy smiled, "If this is anything to go by, I think Royce might end up having a heart attack when he sees you."
"Let's hope not," Vivien chuckled somewhat nervously. "I don't particularly feel like killing him."
"Sure," Butchy chortled sarcastically. "You know, I've seen some of those crime shows you love so much, piccola. You'd be arrested in an instant if you tried to kill anyone."
Smirking, Vivien said, "First of all, I watch those enough to know how to not get caught at this point. And, second, one of these days, I'm going to figure out what you're calling me, big guy."
"I'm sure you will," Butchy grinned, allowing the girl to step forward and bring her arms around him as he ruffled her hair. "It's good to see you again, Viv."
Staring accusatorily at the man as she took a step back, Vivien asked, "Is the swear jar still in place here?"
Confused as to what that had to do with him being glad to see her, Butchy slowly nodded, "Yeah, why?"
"In that case," Vivien huffed, "I'd say it's nice to see you too, but maybe I shouldn't just yet."
"Oh yeah?" Butchy questioned. "Just because of the swear jar?"
"Mhm," Vivien nodded. "You keep that thing in place and I'll be broke by the end of my first week here."
Butchy chuckled, but before he could formulate a response to Vivien's jab, Lela spoke up, "You're staying for more than a week?"
Turning to the shorter girl, Vivien shrugged, "I was hoping to, if that's alright."
Mick chuckled as she began pulling things from the refrigerator, "She is. I don't think her staying is the problem."
"What do you mean?" Lela wondered.
Butchy stepped up to the counter to help Mick make breakfast before answering, "After letting the boys know she's here, it'll be nearly impossible for them to let her return home."
Lela breathed a noise of understanding before taking Vivien's hands and saying, "We need you to look as normal as possible before you go see the boys. How do you feel about borrowing something of mine?"
Smiling, Vivien nodded, "You're the boss."
As Lela let out a noise of excitement and began pulling her away, Butchy called out, "See you in three hours."
Vivien barely got the chance to look around on her way up to Lela's room, pulled up the stairs faster than she thought humanly possible as Lela began babbling about all the things she wanted to do with the younger girl. Although the girl's excitement was evident, Vivien couldn't help but feel astonished at how fast Lela could talk when she was happy. As Lela pulled her into her bedroom, Vivien couldn't help but look around in wonder at how different it was from the movie. Despite everything looking fairly similar, there were touches of modernity that stood out against the mid-century style of the room - pictures from modern times that had made it back in the girl's luggage, an old iPod Vivien was sure Mick had given her, and some items strewn about that Vivien recalled seeing the older girl buy in her world.
Before Vivien could ask her about anything she saw, Lela pulled her over to the closet, where she revealed a room that had Vivien convinced she had somehow ended up transported to Mia Thermopolis's closet from the second Princess Diaries movie. Two plush chairs sat against the far wall, racks of clothes illuminated by little dome lights lined the walls, and shelves of shoes and accessories filled the empty space. Lela scanned the racks of clothing as Vivien looked around in wonder, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses with a smile before setting them down and moving on to the shoes.
Moving with practice ease through her color-coordinated clothing, Lela pulled clothes down by their hangers and began stacking them on her chair. Once she felt satisfied by the selection she had laid out, Lela turned to Vivien and smiled as the girl looked at herself in the mirror with a pair of elbow-length gloves, cat-eye sunglasses, and a large sunhat that flopped in front of her face. Stepping up behind the girl, Lela said, "Time to play dress-up."
Vivien giggled, pulling the sunhat off of her head and lowering the sunglasses as she said, "I think I already am."
"And you look fabulous," Lela claimed with a smile before stepping aside and gesturing to the clothes on one of her chairs. "However, I put aside some clothes for you to try on."
"Ooh," Vivien sang as she turned around, setting her accessories aside in favor of the large pile. As Lela began setting things in their rightful places, Vivien picked through the clothing and quickly found herself lost in the myriad of colors, fabrics, and styles. "You want me try on all of this?"
Lela glanced at the dainty watch on her wrist that her uncle had gifted her for her birthday before answering, "Well, I think we'll only have time for a few before they bring us something to eat, but yeah."
Shifting a pair of shorts onto the arm of the chair, Vivien mused, "I'm surprised you didn't want me in a dress today."
"Normally," Lela began as she made up the distance between herself and the brunette, "I would have, but where most of my dresses would be far too short on you, I figured we could make up for that at the shops later. For now, I figured pedal pushers, tees, and some shorts would be more comfortable for you."
"You're definitely not wrong," Vivien smiled. Turning to the older girl, she asked, "Where should I try these on?"
"Right here," Lela beamed, unhooking a curtain from the wall and letting it fall between herself and Vivien. "If you find anything you feel suits you for the day, let me know and I'll come help you look for accessories. In the meantime, I'll be doing my morning skincare."
Excitement flowed through her like an ice-cold drink on a hot summer day, and Vivien thanked Lela before turning toward her pile of clothing and sorting through everything. Setting aside bottoms she could put together with various tops, Vivien began picking out options and trying them on, examining her reflection before trying on something new. After trying on different outfits for a while, Vivien finally settled on one - a pair of striped, white and lavender shorts with a matching purple tank top that covered far more skin than that of the tank tops back home. Lela was quick to offer assistance with the rest of the outfit, deeming Vivien's classic, black and white, doodle-covered Converse acceptable before selecting a handful of necklaces and bracelets for the brunette to choose between.
Once they had taken a break to eat breakfast, Lela began working her magic on Vivien's hair. After making sure her bangs were separated from the rest of her hair by a curler, Lela brushed out Vivien's hip-length locks before pulling them up into a ponytail and securing them with not only an elastic but also a ribbon. Lela curled the very ends of Vivien's ponytail so that it all ended in a uniform ring before spraying it down with enough hairspray to poke a hole in the ozone layer and pulling the curler out from under Vivien's bangs. 
Grinning in disbelief at her reflection in Lela's vanity, Vivien thanked Lela for putting in more effort than she ever did back home, "I could never do anything like this."
"You could," Lela argued as she placed the cover back on her canister of hairspray and set it on the corner of her vanity. "It just takes practice, that's all."
"And far more patience than I could ever manage," Vivien chuckled, rising slowly from the bench Lela had practically shoved her onto. "Seriously, though, Lela, thank you."
"Anytime," Lela beamed. Checking her watch once again, she clapped her hands and said, "Now, I believe it's time we show you off to everyone at Big Momma's."
"What about Royce?" Vivien asked hesitantly as Lela began to leave the room. "Shouldn't we go see him first?"
Turning back to Vivien as she opened her bedroom door, Lela smirked knowingly, "His shift starts early on weekends."
"His shift?" 
But Lela was already on her way out of the room, a wink being the only response Vivien could pry from the girl as she followed Lela out of the room and down to the living room where everyone else was waiting. With everyone else decked out in their finest sixties regalia, Vivien didn't feel half as out of place as she assumed she would be as she followed them outside, where a blue Volkswagen bus waited. As Mick climbed into the driver's seat, Vivien was allowed the seat beside her, and once everyone was inside, they took off down the road. Taking in the sights of the beach town as they rolled down the street, Vivien found it impossible to wipe the smile from her face.
The look of everything in the area was so different than what she was used to back home - mid-century houses with slanted roofs and fun doorways lined one side of the street while small businesses with typically fifties and sixties fonts in their windows lined the other. Turning toward Mick, she said, "I think I'm already in love."
With a laugh, Mick's gaze flitted toward the brunette before settling on the road again as she turned into a small parking lot where a few cars and motorcycles had parked, the expansive beach and a large building with a thatched roof within walking distance of the lot. Confused, Vivien followed the others as they climbed out of the car, but as everyone headed around the building, Vivien found herself dragged by the wrist toward the back entrance. Mick held the door for her younger friend and guided her through the kitchen before depositing her by the refrigerator and telling her to stay low until she came to get her. 
Resigning to her fate of being stuck between the fridge and the trash can, Vivien crouched low to the floor, observing the people in the kitchen as they moved around, seemingly without noticing her presence. The smell of freshly cooked fish and baked potatoes filled the air, contrasting the stench of the food scraps piling up in the trash next to Vivien as she inched as close to the fridge as possible. However, as a blonde waitress entered the kitchen through the swinging door Mick had left through, Vivien found herself caught. With a hesitant smile and an awkward wave, the blonde neared the fridge with a tray and gathered colorful bottles of soda from it before placing it on a stainless steel counter and glancing over her shoulder at Vivien.
"Are you supposed to be back here?" the girl asked, a thick, southern twang accenting her voice.
Vivien swallowed thickly, offering a shrug as she explained, "My friend pushed me back here."
"Why?" the blonde questioned as she began popping off the lids of the sodas.
"I'm trying to surprise my boyfriend," Vivien explained. "I'm from New Hampshire and he doesn't know I'm here."
The blonde glanced around the kitchen, seemingly looking for someone, before settling her hazel eyes back on the girl crouched on the floor. Lowering her voice, she said, "Be grateful Big Momma isn't back here. This place is supposed to be staff-only after the soda geyser incident that happened a few weeks ago."
"Soda geyser?" Vivien repeated, mildly curious as to whether or not that had anything to do with the Mentos experiment she had shown the boys over Facetime not long ago.
"It was a huge mess," the blonde said before waving it off. Kneeling down to the brunette's height, the girl held out a hand and asked, "What's your name?"
Latching hands with the girl, Vivien smiled and said, "I'm-"
"Vivien, it's time!" Mick whisper-yelled as she pushed open the swinging door. Finding the girl on the floor and the blonde in front of her, Mick stalled, the gears in her brain turning for a moment as she processed the scene before a smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hey, Juliet."
"Hey, Mick," Juliet greeted. Turning back to the girl before her, she asked, "I presume that makes you Vivien?"
Vivien nodded, "And you Juliet?" 
"Guilty as charged," Juliet smiled, her teeth a blinding white in comparison to her peachy lip gloss. Pulling the younger girl to her feet, Juliet asked, "So, what's the plan? How're we surprising this lucky mystery boy?"
"Well, I was thinking Viv could go out and pretend to be a waitress to surprise him," Mick claimed.
Glancing through the serving window, Juliet asked, "What table are they?"
"It's Miles' little brother, Royce," Mick explained. "He should be on his lunch break with his brothers now, right?"
Juliet's wide-eyed gasp shocked Vivien as the blonde whirled around, "Wait, for real? You're with Royce?" When Vivien slowly nodded in confirmation, Juliet let out a soft chuckle, "Everyone thought he was pulling our legs when he said he had a girlfriend. Especially 'cause he said she lived in a different state."
"Well, he was telling the truth," Vivien smiled nervously. 
"I guess so," Juliet beamed. Turning to Mick, she said, "Anyway, I just got all their drinks together. If you want to head out now, I'll take Vivien here with me and say she's a new trainee."
Mick thought for a moment, but it didn't take her long to decide, "Honestly, that's a better plan than mine. I'll go back to my seat, and I'll see you out there in a few!"
As Mick hurried back through the door, Juliet turned to Vivien and asked, "So, newbie, are you ready for your first day at work?"
"I guess so," Vivien said, sucking in a deep breath. 
With a smile, Juliet took a spare waist apron from the hangers on the wall and tied it around the younger girl before picking up her tray of sodas and asking, "Think you can carry this to their booth?"
"I can certainly try," Vivien offered, eyeing the collection of colored liquids.
Once Juliet was sure Vivien had a good hold on the tray, she said, "Just stay behind me and don't say a word until I introduce you. The less chance he has of seeing you, the better chances you have of surprising him."
Vivien nodded, and without another word, Juliet began to lead the way out, holding the door open behind her for Vivien before leading her through the busy restaurant. Vivien didn't get the chance to look around much as they walked, more focused on not spilling any drinks than exploring. However, as Juliet stopped at a booth along the far wall, Vivien looked around, hoping to see some familiar faces among the crowds.
Clearing her throat, Juliet spoke, "Hope y'all don't mind, but we've got a new girl with us this noontime and I figured I'd show her the ropes while Royce here takes his break."
"That's fine, Jules," Vivien heard Miles say. "What's her name?"
"I figured I'd let her introduce herself when she's ready," Juliet said, glancing over her shoulder at Vivien before stepping aside.
Finally able to see the group in the booth, Vivien took in the look of surprise on Miles' face first. Miles quickly got Carrie's attention by squeezing her hand, getting her to look up from the menu in her hands. Cerulean eyes glittered like fireworks as Carrie saw the girl standing at the end of the table, and she hurriedly tapped Bentley's shin under the table with the toe of her shoe, making him lift his head from the crayon drawings he had begun on the back of one of the disposable, paper placemats. Somewhat annoyed at the interruption, Bentley lifted his gaze with a question on his lips, but as Carrie pointed to the end of the table, his question died, and his mouth dropped open, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.
Before anyone could signal Royce to lift his head from his arms as he yawned tiredly toward the table, Vivien smiled at his tangled curls and said, "Hey, handsome."
Without bothering to look up, Royce decided that, since nobody else cared to speak, he would, and mumbled, "Believe it or not, Miles has a girlfriend."
Vivien fought down a laugh and said, "Believe it or not, I wasn't talking to him."
The first to pull himself out of his shocked stupor, Miles grinned and said, "Royce has one too."
"I don't see her anywhere," Vivien said, placing the tray of drinks on the end of the table. "Maybe I need a mirror."
Royce rolled his eyes, lifting his head from his arms enough to take his soda from the tray as he said, "Not interested."
"Royce," Bentley began warningly but was quickly stopped by Miles as the oldest of the brothers placed a finger to his lips and gestured for the boy to stay silent.
"Damn," Vivien sighed as Royce's forehead rested against his arms once more. "And here I thought we would have lasted at least half a year before you decided to break up with me, Rolls."
Startled by the choice of nickname, Royce's eyes peeled open, and through the corner of his eyes, he found himself looking at a pair of Converse with faded doodles on the white of the toe, but it wasn't until he saw the tiny ship charm dangling from her laces that he began putting pieces together. As he slowly lifted his head, Royce found himself frozen with shock. Sure enough, standing before him was his girlfriend, but she looked as though she had stepped out of a magazine. Her typical jeans and T-shirt were replaced with clothing he was used to seeing on some of his friends at school, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail he knew she would normally complain about at the end of the day, but she didn't seem upset by it in the slightest. Her round glasses caught the light above their table perfectly, glinting magically as the light above another nearby table casted a golden halo around her from behind. For a while, Royce was convinced he was seeing things - Vivien couldn't be in his world; it was impossible! She would have told him she was coming! - but then she smiled down at him and said something he couldn't hear over the thoughts running rampant in his head.
Swallowing as he blinked up at her, Royce softly asked, "Vivien?"
The girl before him laughed, and while that beautiful symphony was all he needed to hear, her nod dispelled any further doubts he could have had. Rocketing up from his seat, Royce lunged forward, bringing his arms around her as far as they would reach, nearly lifting her from the floor as she giggled by his ear. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity before Royce backed away enough to take her face in his hands, examining her as though it was the first time.
"Hey," she breathed, as eloquent as ever.
"You-" Royce cut himself off with a laugh, "You're real. You're real and you're here. How are you here?"
Vivien shrugged, "Magic."
Scoffing a laugh, Royce shook his head and brought her back into an embrace that she quickly returned. Looking over her boyfriend's shoulder at the group, who had now pulled themselves out of the booth to greet her, Vivien smiled and gestured for Bentley to join them. Needing no further encouragement, Bentley was quick to attach himself to the pair, ducking under Royce's arm as it came around his shoulders and smiling as Vivien's snuck around his back. The trio refused to separate until Miles asked for his hug, making Vivien pry herself away from her boys for long enough to give Miles and Carrie a greeting as well. Then, just like magnets, the trio fell back together again. This time, however, they separated after a minute, and with Vivien's hands locked firmly in theirs, the boys began showing her around to anyone and everyone who would give them the time of day.
Vivien couldn't help but smile as she was dragged through the restaurant, her face burning like a neon firetruck. As much as she hated being the center of attention, she tried to swallow back her growing anxiety at being surrounded by strangers in favor of allowing the boys to introduce her to the people they cared about. She was sure her growing nerves and embarrassment at being shown off like a prize horse would wear off over time once the boys began to settle, and she wasn't about to complain to either of them until they were calmed down a bit. After all, they had waited long enough for this. Besides, what was the harm of a little embarrassment? If it meant the boys' gleaming smiles never left their faces, she would deal with it a thousand times over. Catching Royce watching her fondly as Bentley introduced her to some of their and their brother's friends, Vivien smiled. 
Maybe - just maybe - she could get used to this.
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