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the-al-chemist · 1 year

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Artemis Hexley: The Wilderness Years

Chapter 9: The Dinner Party

A/N: it’s Artemis’ birthday, and she enjoys a grown-up way of celebrating it. Warnings: mentions of canon-typical bigotry, alcohol, some awkwardness, bridezilla Penny.

The dinner party had been Chester’s idea. Artemis would have been happy spending her birthday having a few drinks at the Three Broomsticks or the underground nightclub in Charing Cross that Andre had introduced her to, but she was hardly going to say no to Chester offering to cook for her and her fiends.

“It’s too special an occasion to do what you would do any other weekend,” he had said. “After all, there is a lot to celebrate.”

This was true. Not only was it Artemis’ birthday, but Chiara had just finished her final exams for her Healer training, Tonks had reached her six-month anniversary of being a fully fledged Auror, and Penny’s boyfriend Lewis Parkin had recently proposed to her during a weekend in Paris. The last of these pieces of good news had been the one that had so far dominated the evening’s conversations.

“Seriously,” Tonks muttered to Artemis, once the pair of them had slipped into the kitchen to clear away the plates and fetch more wine. “If I ever become that nauseatingly mushy over anyone, you have my permission to do me in.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Just put me out of my misery.”

Artemis picked up a piece of chicken from an otherwise empty plate and fed it to Fergus, who was sitting on the countertop looking hopeful. She shrugged.

“I dunno. She doesn’t seem miserable,” she said, with a glance over her shoulder. “I think she’s just really happy and excited.”

“Exactly, it’s sickening.” Tonks grinned. “I’m joking, obviously. I’m happy for her, it would be just nice to talk about something else for ten minutes, that’s all.”

“Is everyone like this about weddings, do you think, or is it just Penny?”

“Might just be Pen. You know what she gets like about organising parties, and this isn’t just any party. This is the party.”

“I guess,” said Artemis. She grabbed two wine bottles - the fancy red one that Chester had brought and the cheap pink one that was Tonks’ favourite - and nodded her head at the door. “Come on. We should go and be excited with her.”

“I’ll try, but if she starts talking about writing her own vows again, I might actually spew.”

Thankfully, Penny was not talking about her vows, nor any other part of the wedding ceremony itself. Instead, the discussion had turned to aesthetics, with Chiara listening politely and Jae looking incredibly bored as Penny chatted away.

“Well, I still haven’t quite decided what colour I want you all to wear,” she told Chiara, her engagement ring sparkling in the light as she moved her hands, “but it will either be pale pink, sage green, or maybe sky blue. In any case, it will definitely be a pastel shade. Bea won’t be happy, if it were up to her you’d all be wearing black, but she always looks so pretty in lighter colours, and it will be a summer wedding, so pastels make far more sense. I much prefer them, anyway.”

“And that’s what matters,” said Chiara. “It is your wedding, we will just go along with what you want. Don’t mind us.”

“Mind me!” Tonks blurted out. “I definitely want some kind of say in what I wear. What if it doesn’t suit me?”

Penny giggled. “You can suit anything, Tonks. You’re a Metamorphmagus.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I’m going to go looking at options with Andre next weekend, but I think I know what style I want for you,” Penny continued. “Probably mid-length, strapless-”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Won’t the dresses fall down if they haven’t got any straps?”

“- with a little bit of tulle under the skirt to give it some sort of shape. And then you all will have little bouquets of daisies to carry, because daisies are my favourite flowers.”

Tonks looked across the table at Jae, who appeared to have fallen asleep with his eyes open. “What’s your favourite type of flower, Jae?”

Jae puffed out his cheeks and exhaled before answering:

“Probably self-raising.”

The rest of the guests chuckled, and Chiara shook her head, her pale eyes rolling and lips twitching gently.

“Will you have a daisy bouquet, too?” she asked Penny, who nodded emphatically.

“Yes, but mine will be bigger, because I am the bride.”

“Really?” Tonks’ eyes widened in faux-surprise. “You should’ve said something before.” She winced as Artemis kicked her under the table. “Ow! What was that for?”

“And I want my dress to have daisies on, too. Maybe little ones embroidered on it or lace with a daisy pattern. I’m not quite sure yet, but I definitely want it to be white,” Penny sighed. “I know it’s a bit dishonest, but I have always wanted a white wedding ever since I was a little girl, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t have one just because of one very small technical detail. After all, it’s 1995. No one is actually a virgin anymore.”

Lewis Parkin, who Artemis had yet to hear utter a single word all evening, looked at his new fiancée and blinked slowly, his expression one of mingled endearment and exasperation. Across the table from him, Kingsley was paying close attention to his glass, whilst Chester shuffled slightly in the chair next to him.

“Anyway,” he said loudly, reaching across the table to pick up his glass of red wine, “I was hoping that now everyone is here again, we might toast the birthday girl.”

Everyone else hurried to pick up or charge their own glasses, except for Artemis. Once the full wine glasses were all held aloft, Chester spoke once more.

“Not only is it Artemis’ birthday today, but earlier this week she received an incredible job offer.”

“Oh, Artemis, that really is wonderful news,” said Penny, beaming from ear to ear. “What job is it? Curse-Breaking?”

“Personal secretary to the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports,” Chester informed everyone, and Penny’s blue eyes and mouth formed perfect circles. “Which is rather impressive, considering that she is only twenty-two, and didn’t even apply. He selected her personally.” Artemis tried and failed to not roll her eyes at Chester’s proud tone. “Then again, she is always impressive. So, here’s to Artemis.”

“To Tiny,” said Kingsley, with a nod in Artemis’ direction.

“To Artemis,” the others chorused. They all lifted their glasses and sipped their wine, except for Tonks, who winked theatrically at Artemis.

“To enabling a man’s gambling addiction until he offers you a prestigious job role,” she said, before taking such a large gulp of her drink that she half-emptied her glass. Artemis laughed.

“I mean, it wasn’t just that,” she explained. “Fine, maybe it’s a bit of that, but also it’s because he was really happy with the dragon challenge. Said it was the best entertainment he’s had for a long time, much better than the lake challenge, because no one could actually see anything that was going on.”

“Ten points to Artemis, none to Thomasina Thistlethwaite,” said Tonks, and she held out her palm for Artemis to high-five, which she did. “A win on all counts.”

“When do you start?” Chiara asked, and Artemis shrugged.

“Not sure. I haven’t actually taken it yet.”

“Why not?” Penny frowned. “Does it not pay very well?”

“It does, I just… I haven’t made up my mind yet, that’s all.”

“There’s no rush,” said Chester. “Ludo doesn’t need an answer until after the final challenge, so there’s plenty of time to think it through properly and make up your mind based on the other options available.” He took a sip of red wine and rested his arm on the back of Artemis’ chair. “I think you will probably end up going for this one, though.”

Artemis laughed. “You do, do you?”

“Absolutely. This is an excellent opportunity and a strategic career move. Plus, I doubt that any other position will give you as much money or stability.”

“I dunno how much stability it will give me,” said Artemis. “I mean, this is Ludo Bagman we’re talking about.”

“True, but there are far worse people to have as your boss. Trust me, I know,” Chester said darkly. “I spent my first three and a half years at the Ministry working for Dolores Umbridge.”

A collective groan of sympathy and disgust echoed around the table. Kingsley shook his head and shuddered, and next to Artemis, Tonks stiffened in her chair. She looked nervously between Penny and Chiara, the latter of whom’s face a passive mask, but her already pale knuckles had whitened as she tightened her grip on Jae’s hand. Artemis’ eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to change the subject, but before she could say anything, Lewis Parkin spoke for the first time that evening.

“Umbridge…” he repeated. “For why do I ken that name?”

“She’s the one pushing the new lycanthropy bill,” said Chester. “If she gets her way, all werewolves will need to declare their condition so that people know about it when they’re hiring someone for a job or considering renting a property to them.”

“It’ll never happen,” Jae half-scoffed. Though his voice held no tension, his jaw jutted slightly. Chester did not seem to notice this, for he tilted his head one way and then the other and continued:

“I think it might, actually. Umbridge is awful, but she is also very shrewd, and she’s picked her timing well, given what happened at the World Cup-”

“Those weren’t werewolves, though,” said Artemis. Next to her, she could feel Tonks bristling. “You can’t take what-”

“I’m not taking anything. I’m just saying that it’s a clever move, politically speaking.” Artemis glared at Chester, and he sighed. “Consider it. Last summer it got out that a werewolf had been teaching at Hogwarts, living at the school with people’s children all year, and no one knew about it. Then, at the World Cup, all these maniacs in masks start coming out of the woodwork, and we can only speculate as to who was underneath those masks. You can see why now more than ever, people may be interested in having legislation that gives them the right to know exactly who’s living next door to them. I’m not saying that it’s the correct course of action, but-”

“It sounds like you are.”

“I’m not, Artemis. I’m just playing Devil’s Advocate, that’s all,” Chester told her, and he placed his hand on her knee and squeezed gently. “People who are scared will do all sorts of things if it makes them feel secure, and right now, lots of people are scared.”

There was no point in trying to argue, but Artemis was not placated. She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered sullenly at her wine glass. A tense sort of hush had fallen over the table, one which was broken by the sound of Kingsley’s low, gentle chuckle.

“You know what I’ve been scared about recently?” he asked, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Who would be cooking this evening. The last time I was invited here for dinner, I was served beans on toast.”

Almost everyone let out laughs that were as much relieved as they were amused. Artemis shook her head.

“It wasn’t just beans,” she corrected Kingsley. “I grated cheese, too.”

“Of course, how could I forget? I also recall being offered a mixture of red and white wine to drink.”

“Red and white mixed?” Jae’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s almost criminal, Hex.”

“In my defence, I was very young and I didn’t know anything about wine at the time. I still don’t, really.”

“Right,” Jae grinned. “And what about your cooking? Do you know more about that now, or are you still limited to a diet of ‘things on toast’?”

“Actually,” said Artemis, sitting up straight in her seat and raising her chin, “I’ll have you know that I can make four different types of potatoes now.”

Jae clapped his hands three times slowly before reaching for his glass and raising it.

“Always impressive,” he said drily. “Forget birthdays and job offers, this is the sort of thing we should be drinking to.”

Artemis pulled a face, but she still picked up her own glass.

“To potatoes,” she said as she raised it to Jae.

“To never letting you cook for me.”

“We can all drink to that,” Tonks said, and she finished the second half of her wine in one gulp.

The rest of the group laughed and toasted again, and this time, Artemis joined them, giggling as she finished her glass of the expensive red wine. It was probably quite good, but as she still did not know much about wine, it could just as well have been Tonks’ favourite pink one.

The rest of the night passed without further political discussion or tension, with the guests preferring to talk about less potentially controversial topics. It was not until the very end of the night, after Penny and Lewis had already left and Tonks had fallen asleep on the sofa, that the topic of the Ministry’s werewolf reforms came up again.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” Artemis said as she bade Chiara and Jae goodnight at the front door. “Chester would never have brought up the werewolf stuff if he had known…”

Chiara shook her head and smiled sadly.

“It’s okay, Artemis. I’m used to it,” she told her. “It’s really not a problem, he was only talking about the new laws they’re passing.”

“It’s just a vote. They haven’t been passed yet.”

“And they won’t be,” Jae said stubbornly.

“Actually, they probably will.” Chiara sighed. “Chester’s right. Umbridge and her supporters, they’ve really picked their moment. Everyone has been so afraid since the Dark Mark went up at the World Cup. People are terrified about what that might mean for the future. It’s easier for the Ministry to distract everyone by scapegoating werewolves, so that’s what they’ll do.”

“They won’t.”

“Yes, they will, Jae.”

“What does that mean for you?” Artemis asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeply. “Will you have to put your name on this list?”

“Probably.” Chiara’s front teeth grazed her lower lip. “My landlord would almost definitely kick me out of my flat, though. And I’m not sure that St Mungo’s would want me working there if they knew, either.”

“Hardly anybody knows about you,” said Jae. “You could lie and get away with it.”

“Maybe, but then if I get found out, it won’t just be St Mungo’s that I’d lose out on. Breaking the law like that, I could lose my license to work as a Healer altogether.”

“But you’ve just worked so hard to finish the training. You’re so good at Healing.” Artemis shook her head. “That’s not fair!”

“It isn’t. But then, neither are so many things,” said Chiara sadly. She blinked before smiling again. “Don’t listen to me. I’m just scared. And maybe Jae’s right. Maybe it won’t pass, who knows?”

But the look in her eerily pale blue eyes made it clear that she knew exactly what would come to pass. Artemis watched her and Jae walk away down the darkened street and returned to the kitchen feeling far less carefree than she had left it. She barely noticed the earnest tone of Chester’s voice or the wrinkles in Kingsley’s forehead as the two men talked quietly by the sink until they saw her enter and immediately fell silent.

“You look worried, Tiny,” said Kingsley. The very sound of his deep and melodious voice made Artemis feel less worried, and she shrugged. “Sickle for your thoughts?”

“Nothing I think is worth as much as a Sickle,” she told him with a wry smile.

“I couldn’t disagree more.”

“Would you like to stay for one more drink, Mr Shacklebolt?” Chester asked, but Kingsley shook his head.

“As much fun as this has been, I think I have had far too much to drink as it is. I’m too old not to suffer for my evening’s fun in the morning these days,” he chuckled. “I think I’ll leave you two young people to continue your conversations without me. I’ll see myself out.”

He shook Chester’s hand and hugged Artemis, who rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Once he had left, she looked around the kitchen.

“Did you clean as well as cook?” she asked Chester, who laughed.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I’m not, I just… Thanks. This was all really kind of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your birthday, Artemis,” said Chester. “And I had Kingsley to help with the cleaning.”

“Right,” Artemis nodded. “You sounded like you were getting along well.”

“We always get along well.”

“That’s not... What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing substantial. Work, mainly. Very boring stuff.”

“How true,” Artemis grinned mischievously, her head tilted to one side. Chester sighed and shook his head before stepping towards her.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, quietly. “And I think that maybe we should live together.”

Artemis blinked. “Where?”

“Wherever you prefer. I could move in here with you, or you could join me in my overpriced flat. Or we could find somewhere new together. Maybe in Cardiff, it’s cheaper than London and closer to home.”

“But London is your home.”

“I mean home as in where I grew up. Portmeirion.”

“Oh, right,” Artemis said. She nodded, but frowned at the same time. “What about Tonks?”

Chester laughed out loud. “What about Tonks?”

“She’d be here all alone.”

“Tonks is a big girl, Artemis. She will cope with living alone. Or she could find a new housemate. Someone you can actually charge rent to,” Chester suggested. He raised one eyebrow. “Well? What do you think?”

Artemis did not really know what to think. The house she had grown up in had always been dark and dingy, a house rather than a home, and she co-owned it with the brother she no longer wanted anything to do with. Her choice to move back eighteen months previously had been one made out of necessity rather than desire; after leaving school she had sworn that she would never live there again. She should have been jumping at the chance to leave. The problem was that leaving the house now meant leaving Tonks, abandoning her there the way she had been abandoned as a little girl and left largely to fend for herself.

But Tonks was not a little girl, like Chester said, and perhaps she would not have to be by herself at all. She could live here with someone else, and Artemis knew who might want to do just that. After all, right now, Chiara was scared, and scared people needed to feel secure. And if Artemis could do something to give her that security, she would do it in a heartbeat.

So, she decided to ignore the small voice in the back of her head that was telling her that she wasn’t ready, that she was also scared, and nodded.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she told Chester. “Yeah, we should do that.”

Chester smiled, and kissed her gently.

“Excellent,” he whispered. “It’s late. Shall we go to bed?”

“You go. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Once Chester had gone upstairs, Artemis opened the door to let Fergus in from the back garden, conjured a blanket to place over the sleeping Tonks, and extinguished the candles that were still flickering on the table. Without them, the house seemed darker than ever, so dark that she could not even see where she was at all. She could have been anywhere in the world, and yet she was here. Still here.

Maybe that little voice had been wrong, she thought, as she padded upstairs. Maybe she really was ready to leave.

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interlligrosupplies · 1 year

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When deciding on which mulch to use, it's important to consider your garden's needs. If you have sandy soil, for example, it may be better suited for a lighter textured mulch that won't pack down as much.

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There are several different types of soil out there: sand; loam; clay; peat moss/peat humus; composted yard waste materials such as leaves and grass clippings

Organic vs. Inorganic Mulch

Organic mulch is made from plant materials, such as leaves and bark. It comes in a variety of colours and textures, but it all decomposes over time. The problem with organic mulch is that it needs to be replaced every few years because of this decomposition process--and that can get expensive!

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Mulch Characteristics

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Source by :- Factors To Consider When Choosing The Perfect Garden Mulch

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peachhyychenle · 3 years

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clear skies | b.jc

pairing: jacob x reader

genre: fluff, soulmate AU (idk if its a genre but here we are)

word count: 0.9k (or 949 if you wanna be precise)

warning: mention of food, mention of bugs

for the stars aligned event hosted by @knet-bakery

playlist: cover up taeyeon, stay gold bts, sunkissed khai dreams

soulmate au: the world is monochrome until you lock eyes with your soulmate.

a/n: this was inspired by the picnic I went on the other week and it seemed to also fit perfectly with the A to BOYZ that jacob did which you can find here!

summary: picnics were always a fun thing to do, whether it be with friends, family or partners. Clear skies and a cool breeze always ideal for feasting on strawberries and cherries, however they made the perfect weather for finding soulmates, too.

The blanket felt soft as you sat cross legged on the chequered fabric, a punnet of strawberries and grapes, along with a few sandwiches littering the inner portion of the space. It was the first day that you and your friends were all able to meet properly, and with the gorgeous weather your country was currently experiencing, a picnic felt like the perfect option. The birds happily chirping, the warm dry air that was complemented by the cooling breeze felt perfect. It was a perfect day.

Much of the conversation between your group revolved around debates between your current favourite shows, with the current battle being between Loki and WandaVision. However your mind drifted. The whole soulmate system was never really a prevalent topic in your group and so you never really think about it, however for the past week, you were just aware of how many people had found their partners for life and how many people could see the world so differently to you.

You would sometimes even forget about your grey scaled world until it came to your mother taking you out on her shopping sprees and asking your opinion on shirts that looked exactly the same to you, but in her eyes were completely different colours.

Colours always intrigued you. People would always talk about how blue the sky would be, or how green the grass was on days like today, hell even your mum mentioned it to you before you left. You just felt you were missing out on a life that everyone else was in touch with.

Drifting back into the group conversation, they had put on some music and were presently talking about different bands. At some point, a couple of your friends had gotten up and decided to dramatically act out the rest of the song which was definitely a highlight of the day.

A few more songs passed and collectively, you guys had decided to walk around and to find a different, more shaded spot. And so away you went.

It had been about five minutes and you were walking near the back of the group, an umbrella in hand from when you guys tried shading yourselves with it but inevitably gave up, minutes later. The group came across a diverting pathway leading into a small meadow.

There was an array of flowers, crickets were busy chirping away, joining the chorus of birds doing the same thing. And whilst the place looked like a painting you would find hung in a museum, you were merely passers by, there were trees that enclosed this small piece of paradise, however the grass looked way too overgrown to even attempt wading through.

A couple of your friends ran ahead, making the group laugh and as your laughter died down you heard a melody. At first you were going insane from the heat, but you heard the same melody again coming from the other end of the meadow. And so with a call to your friends that you would catch up, you began your mini adventure through the open undergrowth.

As you grew closer, many of the small critters hiding in the grass grew silent, whilst the strumming guitar became louder, and eventually this tune was accompanied by a voice.

You weren't a big believer in any religion but my oh my did this voice sound so pure. The only word that came to your mind to describe this voice was angelic.

You saw his shoes first. They were discarded a little away from where the music was and so when you peaked your head around some shrubbery, you were stunned.

A boy that looked to be around the same age as you was sitting on a tree stump, and was dressed up considering he was alone, and it didn't really fit with the warm day. His button up hung loosely on him, looking slightly too big but then somehow fitting him all the same, and paired with his jeans, it was definitely a simple look but one that suited him well.

If his voice sounded angelic, then his face definitely matched. He looked like a literal angel. His eyes were closed, as he sang. He looked so at peace, so content. So ethereal.

You weren't really sure why, but a smile had worked its way onto your face, seeing someone look so calm and peaceful yet you could hear how passionate he was in his playing and singing, it made you feel content.

A final strum on his guitar rang out and you began to quietly clap, so you didn't freak him out.

His eyes landed on you and he gave a chuckle and a grin afterwards. He got up from the stump and made his way over to you. He seemed a lot taller than what you were expecting.

As he walked over, you guys finally locked eyes, and as soon as you did, the world exploded around you.

Various shades of green took over, the pops of yellow and red from the flowers complementing it nicely and the sky. It was such a beautiful colour. You definitely understood why people would often love days like these.

'Woah'

'Yeah woah, this is beautiful', you responded to his exclamation. Never in your life would you have thought this was how you would meet your soulmate.

'Hi soulmate, I'm Y/N' you greeted, a warm smile on your face, finally looking away from the greenery and focusing on the guy in front of you.

His hands reached forward to grab both of your own and as he held them he introduced himself.

'Hi soulmate, I'm Jacob and I'm glad to meet you at last'

#knetbakery #jacob bae #the boyz #the boyz jacob #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz drabbles #jacob imagines #jacob scenarios #jacob fluff #the boyz timestamp #jacob timestamps #tbz #tbztars

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undead-merman · 3 years

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Yo this is the person who asked about Monster Dia and Barb, I just want a monster that suits them best.

Alright, I’ve got Barbatos as a Naga and Diavolo as a Dragon

Obey Me Headcanons (Monster Edition) 🐲Diavolo🐲 and 🐍Barbatos🐍 as Yanderes GN - Reader SFW

Diavolo

Appearance

Diavolo is a proud dragon. He stands much taller than most in the Devildom. His large human figure stands at ten feet tall.

His skin is covered in dark maroon and gold scales, most of them centered around his face, chest, and legs. His legs resemble a dragon’s more than a human’s with three wide toes and long black talons.

He has a long prehensile tail as well tipped with a tuff of black fur and lined with large black plates sticking up dangerously.

His horns and teeth are long and fearsome, his fangs always manage to hang out of his mouth and his smile can be just as lovely as they are terrifying. His horns are always adored with gold accessories, usually in the shape of: golden skulls, torn wings, and blood red rubies.

In his True Form he stands taller then any building in the Devildom and with a wingspan capable of casting a whole city in darkness.

Diavolo’s build is much bulkier in this form, mostly seen around the jaw, and wings. His wings contain rougher and sharper scales and contain some of the black plates his tail has.

His Hoard and His Breath

Diavolo’s bed chamber also doubles as the Royal Treasury. Since his draconic nature craves hoarding wealth he has a need to sleep amongst the treasure.

Every morning he spends his first hour of awakening, sitting amongst the hoard, fiddling with gems and Grimm in his clawed hands, immersing himself in the candle lit room of wealth. Afterwards, he gets up to drink tea with breakfast while reading the R.A.D Newspaper.

He gets anxious and grumpy if he can’t be near his hoard for too long. Barbatos has to help make time in Diavolo’s schedule for Hoard Breaks.

Whenever he pleases, he’s able to breath massive plumes of black hot fire and streams of red lighting. Everything in its wide path is reduced to ash. It gets wider the angrier he gets, and it’s believed that if he truly was ever to get enraged, he could destroy the entire Devildom.

Spending Time with You

Diavolo is captivated with you to the point of obsession, needing you by his side at all times, though knows you need some freedom. Despite his instinctual anxiety of you having autonomy, he knows he could easily dispose of anything should it ever threaten his position with you. Anyone who makes you doubt him, or try to lure you to their side, he would make sure there is no trace of them left.

You are often given gifts, his form of courting you even if you’ve already tied the knot. Gifting you outfits and jewelry made from the finest gold and purest gems. He does this because he now considers you the center of his hoard, the paragon of his wealth, treasure and triumph. He wants to coat you in beautiful fine things.

He enjoys you touching the scaly parts of his body. It feels nice to have your soft warm skin on his cool scales. If you're not against it he’d enjoy you grooming him, it's relaxing.

He loves to have paintings of you made in different beautiful outfits in graceful poses amongst fantastical locations. He likes to sit with you as you pose for the artist and just talk. He adores this special time with you.

You’re the one in existence that has the right to join him in his hoard, and he thoroughly enjoys the time he spends with you in his hoard, which feels more complete with you amongst the jewels. If he had it his way, he would forget about everything except you and his treasures.

His Dark Tendencies

He has such a deep infatuation with you that he would do anything to have you. Though he doesn’t want to force the feeling onto you, instead he does it in secret, keeping up the perfect prince image for you as much as possible.

If he sees someone he deems a threat, he’d make sure they’re taken quietly and dealt with far away from you so there's no possibility you could ever see it.

Sometimes if they’ve made him angry, he’ll take the perpetrator to a private hunting ground so he can hunt them down and eat them himself, making sure not even the bones are left.

He had a wing built onto the castle just to house the thousand portraits he had made. He’s slowly overtime made it into a museum dedicated in all of your splendor. Glass encased objects of random things you had given to him, ranging from birthday presents to random cans of vending machine black tea.

He has stolen a few of your clothes, a uniform jacket or tie. He likes to fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

Diavolo doesn’t punish you at all, you can do no wrong in his eyes, only others can mislead you. He wants you yourself to fall in love with him, you have to learn by yourself how much of a perfect match you are.

Misc. Stuff

Despite being a Dragon with such fierce fire, Diavolo loves to fish in a sized down version of true form.

When he gets too excited his tail wags like a dog’s. He’s been known to have knocked over a few things with his tail when you or Lucifer came to a party or ball of his.

His eyes turn reptilian like in his humanoid form when he gets upset, or when he wakes up in the morning and is processing everything. It takes him a few moments of just staring at the ceiling to figure out he’s awake.

He has given the brothers a ride on his back as a dragon a few times, but sometimes he had flown a bit too fast making them fly off.

Barbatos

Appearance

His body is long and slender, reaching forty feet long. His scales are flat and smooth, black with a teal iridescence to them. If you look at them closely you can see a triangular pattern on his back in different shades of gray and black.

His tail however splits at the end perfectly in two symmetrical pieces.

His tongue is forked and long but he hides it well, however he does have teal coloration on the tip. Barbatos also has a few scale patches on his cheeks and just along his spine to his back hairline.

Barbatos has long perfectly trimmed claws that are sharp as a razor and grown out just far enough to start curving.

Being Cold Blood

Barbatos has to deal with the annoyance of being cold blooded, if he doesn’t heat himself in a nice warm place often enough he becomes lethargic; however no one has ever seen him resting let alone warming himself, people wonder how he always manages to be ten steps ahead of everyone while being cold blooded.

His secret is Diavolo, as he exudes a warm presence simply being near him provides enough heat to keep active for an entire day; and a pot of warm herbal tea to help jump-start his day.

He’s a type of Naga to use constriction against his prey, he has fangs but no actual venom. When he gets angry at the Little Ds you can find him constricting them and giving them a cold smile while scolding them.

Spending time with You

Barbatos just finds you so captivating and pure, he wants you in his arms. He wants to protect something so soft and warm, compared to him.

He loves to wrap his tail around you, around your waist, around your shoulders, he likes it even better if he can wrap it arounds your body completely just feeling the warmth of you on his skin.

He has a habit of spoiling you by bringing you everything you ask for. He always has breakfast in bed for you, he likes to bring you your clothes and always gets the chair or door for you.

He enjoys spending time in the garden with you, sharing a cup of tea and light pastries. Light rainy days are always his favorite just the sight of you in the green glow of the garden, the plump droplets catching the starlight above.

He likes to see you relaxed and happy, it makes his heart feel light and makes him proud to see how content you are. Sometimes he likes to lay with you and place fresh flowers around you and just admire you. He just loves looking at you.

His Dark Tendencies

He gets jealous fairly easily but he tries to not let it show in front of you. Just you smiling in front of someone else is enough to make his scales rise in anger.

He makes sure to find them and threaten them to stay away from you and says it while constricting them so much that they begin turning blue. All of his bottled up anger from everything that has happened, even events that don’t involve the victim, are being let out on them. Harshly and slowly.

He’ll very rarely punish you, if you go out of your way to escape from him he’ll make sure to chain you up and make you beg for him to take care of you, if you don’t you’ll be left alone without food or water.

He has a slightly sadistic want to make you cry. It looks so cute and beautiful to him, like the rain from the garden is dripping from your lovely eyes.

Misc Stuff

Most Nagas aren’t afraid to hunt pests, meat is meat, but Barbatos has a delicate palate and the thought of eating rats makes him ill. He also has a sensitive stomach so he can’t eat too much or anything too hot.

He loves to relax in hot baths but he never has time anymore helping with Diavolo and the Seven Demon Lords.

He likes to wake up early in the morning, put on an apron and start making pastries fresh that morning. Every morning is something new and always delicious.

I take NSFW and SFW check out my pinned post for my rules on requests Take Care - Stay Spooky

#obey me #obey me monster boys #obey me monster headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Text

I Want To Be A Real Fake

@kaiserkorresponds said: Black and White + "I want to be a real fake" + formal clothing <3

Prompted fic that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I received it! Hope you like it, Kaiser!

Jon would not consider himself fashionable. He has a distinct sense of style, yes, but that style lately has been Tired-Academic-Works-in-a-Cold-Office,-Steals-Sweaters-When-Necessary-core. Not exactly suitable for the business casual dress code The Magnus Institute “requires” (no one seemed to pay attention to the Archive staff’s choices of attire), but certainly not suitable for the small rectangle of cardstock Elias Bouchard hands him, on a quiet spring morning in the Archive.

“What’s…what’s this?” Jon asked, staring at the neat, printed text as if it was Greek. (If it were Greek, at least, he could decipher parts of it. He was an English Lit student, after all, and he had really enjoyed etymology.) The card was a stiff black and white, with the black owl logo, the symbol of the Magnus Institute, printed in the top middle. Glancing down at it, he saw a date, and the words: “black-tie.” Shit.

“My apologies, I forgot how tired your position tends to leave you.” Elias’s voice was prim and polite, but Jon still winced inwardly. “As a head of a department, you are now strongly encouraged to attend the fundraiser I host in April each year. Our donors are fascinated by our departments, and especially the Archives. Gertrude’s disappearance has raised questions as to her successor, and I trust you can assuage the concerns of our donors at your accomplishments in the position.” Jon chose to believe that Elias’s keen eye didn’t sweep the mountains of paperwork that surrounded his desk as he surveyed the small, poorly lit office. “I’m certain you’ll be able to find appropriate attire for the occasion.”

He turned on a heel, halfway to the door before seemingly considering something. “Ah, and Jon, one more thing. Gertrude always requested she bring an assistant. Would you like to do the same? I am happy to accommodate one more for the catering count.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut, utterly dumbfounded by the responsibility just thrust upon him, and nodded mutely, before clearing his throat. “Ah-um, yes, I would appreciate that. Does it matter which one?”

“Someone who can make a pleasant impression, please.” Elias raised an eyebrow, nodded almost imperceptibly, like he had made a decision, and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on the way out. “I trust your judgement.”

Jon counted to thirty, to be certain Elias wasn’t coming back, and slouched into his office chair, scanning the save-the-date again, without the immense pressure of Elias’s eyes on him.

“The Magnus Institute Fundraiser Gala,” it read below the embossed owl, within a thin black border. “23 April, 7-10 pm. Black tie. Catered.” Jon traced the owl with the pad of his finger, flipping the card over to see, in Elias’s thin cursive: Make a good impression, Jon.

God, this is going to suck.

“Sasha, come on.” Jon wasn’t one to beg, but desperate times and all that. He had cornered her in the breakroom, while Martin was on a research trip and Tim was getting takeaway from the chippie down the street. “It’s only three weeks away, and you’re the one I trust the most. Please.”

“Jon,” Sasha sighed, smoothing her skirt patiently. “I would if I could, I swear to you. But my sister’s wedding has been planned for months, I’ve already requested time off, and I can’t undo all that for a work party.”

“Fundraiser,” Jon corrected instinctively, even as he signed in resignation. “Fine. I just really didn’t want to go alone.”

Sasha scoffed, shaking her head to herself as she opened the fridge and pulled out her bagged lunch. “You have two other assistants you know. What about Tim? Or Martin?”

Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought of bringing nervous, rambling, doe-eyed Martin to the gala. “God no. Martin would be too much; I need someone who can handle themselves and hold a decent conversation. I need someone who can attend a black-tie gala and look more at-home than me.” A withering look from Sasha.

“So why not Tim, then? He can do all those things.”

“Do all what things?” Jon jumped and spun around to see Tim, carrying a grease-spotted bag in one hand and a paper soda cup in the other. He surveyed Tim in a moment: the button-up shirt, red and printed with tiny black balloons, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, dark black hair artfully mussed. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, and what Jon swore could be the faintest bit of eyeliner.

“Tim, would you like to go to a fashionable, catered work party with me?”

“Boss,” Tim lowered himself to a knee and held out his soda solemnly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Tim, that’s backwards. The kneeler isn’t the one who accepts,” Sasha chuckles helpfully.

“You’re just jealous of our love, Sash!”

Good Lord.

Jon was really hoping the food would be good. He was in Tim’s flat, in the toilet, checking himself in the mirror one final time. His hair was carefully braided, courtesy of Tim’s deft hands and coiled into a thick bun at the base of his skull, gold and emerald hairpin snugly in place. His suit was nice: a respectable white shirt, dotted with tiny lime-colored flowers he had to strain his eyes to see, under a dark green suit jacket and matching trousers. The suit itself was cut in a rather androgynous style, pulling tight at Jon’s waist in a way he rather liked, and contrasted beautifully, he thought, with the smooth brown of his skin. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his thigh and, satisfied, stepped into the hall to tell Tim he was ready to go.

“Tim, I’m all-woah,” the exhale was accidental. Tim’s suit was certainly not subtle. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck, hair perfectly coiffed. Over the turtleneck, the suit jacket was white, a spray of water-color flowers in all shades of blue and purple shifting with every movement. The navy blue heeled suede boots on his feet accentuated his already-tall frame “Tim, you look good,” Jon breathed.

“Ouch. No need to sound all surprised. I know I clean up well; I dirty pretty damn good too.” Tim chuckled and adjusted his sleeves. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. ‘I don’t want anything too crazy.’”

Jon grinned shyly, rocking on his heels of his own, less intimidating dress shoes. “I like it, I think. It feels nice.” The excitement over how good he felt in the clothes had, all too briefly, suppressed the impending doom he was feeling about the evening’s events. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked for what must have been the fiftieth time, spinning the solid black ring he wore around his finger.

“Yes, Jon. Talk about the reorganization process as a structural renovation, converting files to audio formatting for future accessibility, don’t talk about artefact storage even a little, don’t get caught up with anyone too pretty, I get it.” His voice was flat, bored by the repetition. “This is going to be fine.”

“What-what if it isn’t, though, Tim? What if they ask about Gertrude or how their money is being used, o-or how the restructuring is going? I can’t bloody well tell them I’m using a tape recorder that’s probably older than I am.”

“Jon,” Tim’s well-manicured hand was on his shoulder, nails the same blue of his turtleneck. “Take a deep breath. For Gertrude: be honest. It was a tragedy, and you hope she’s found, but until then you’re doing your best to act on her wishes as her replacement. And for the rest, be vague. Restructuring is going ‘as well as can be expected’ or ‘is running quite smoothly with the help of your three wonderful assistants.’” He winked. “And tell them you’re using a multimedia system, that’ll confuse those old boomers enough to move topics. And it is technically true. Laptops and a tape recorder are multiple medias. Anything else we can riff, you know? I can talk with the best of them.” He eyed Jon meaningfully. “This will be fine. It’s one night. And we’ll get chips after. Promise.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, breathing steadying. He was grateful Tim had been available. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, how did you know what black tie meant?” Jon asked, eyeing Tim across the seat of the cab. They’re on their way now and Jon’s hands are steepled tightly, pressing his fingertips against each other until it hurts to do so. “I had to Google it last week when I went shopping, in case we had to wear literal black ties.” He needed to talk about anything, anything but this stupid fundraiser they drove steadily towards.

Tim grew silent for a moment, considering his words. “My brother was an extra in a movie once and started dating a stylist for one of the leads. He fibbed his way into getting us tickets for premieres, so I’ve made my way through a few high-fashion events.” He shrugged, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet along his wrist, were Jon knew the letter D was carved in delicate cursive. “I like it, too, you know? Dressing up for events. It makes me feel debonaire, like a spy.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. “Makes me feel fake,” he mumbled, eyeing the lorry floor beneath them. “Like everyone knows I don’t belong. I hate having their eyes on me and knowing they’re better than me.”

Tim prodded Jon with his elbow gently, raising his eyebrows in a comforting manner. “That’s it though, isn’t it? We aren’t fake. We worked our way here. Hell, you’re the boss of an entire department, Jon. We’ve gotten to where we are in the Institute because we deserve to be here. And anyways, everyone at that party next week is gonna be fake. They’re pretending to care about our jobs, and we pretend to care about their money, and they pretend they’re even the ones who write the checks and not some snooty financial advisor in Wales.”

Jon shrugged, trying to keep himself from biting back that he wasn’t enough, didn’t earn this spot, that Sasha deserved it more than he did and was doing nothing to prove to Elias he was up to the monumental task of being the Head Archivist. He didn’t, though, and instead took a steadying breath, nodding to Tim’s comforting words.

“And anyways,” Tim continued, shrugging. “Even if we have to be fake for a night, it’ll be fun. We get to be a part of ‘the queen’s high society,’” he added in a high-pitched, overly fake RP accent, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “And Rosie said the catering Elias orders is divine. Apparently we should keep an eye out for tiny samosas?”

As if on cue, the cab shuddered to a stop. Jon thanked the driver, paid, and followed Tim out.

The Institute looked different under the pretense of wealth and success. It was still the same building of course, but the floor was clear of the rain mats and the smooth marble floor paved the way to the library, the main sitting room of which had been cleared as a rather respectable grand hall to host a party. Tables lined the cordoned off books, hot plates and silver trays steaming slightly. Bottles of wine lined a bar, behind which a vested individual with slicked-back hair was pouring small glasses and taking orders. A quiet orchestra completed the scene, cello and piano in a delicate duet. Before tonight, Jon couldn’t have imagined this many people in the Institute alone, least of all the library. Not that it’s packed. There’s maybe thirty or so well-dressed individuals milling about, the din of conversation white noise in comparison to the floating of the music.

Tim’s hand is on his back, pressing kindly into his spine. Oh yes, he remembers dimly, and nods, allowing Tim to guide him into the library and hand him a glass of wine. They stand out a little, two beacons of color around what is a pretty drab spectrum of black and grey, save for a few spectacular dresses in the crowd. Jon finds he doesn’t mind it, except that it may lead to unwanted conversation. It’s not his looks he fears being judged on, but that he be found wanting when it came to his capabilities. He was always selectively self-conscious like that, some things utterly meaningless, others inexplicably important.

Jon isn’t a huge fan of wine, but he finds himself clinging to the glass as a lifeline as he and Tim meander through the crowds, largely ignored. The music is intoxicatingly simple; he finds himself caught up in the deep reverberations of the cello as they walk, feeling it deep in his chest. There were, in fact, samosas, as well as small cannoli, and he and Tim piled plates as high as they could without garnering stares.

There weren’t many people Jon recognized; he didn’t even see Elias as he scanned the crowd for faces. Wine in one hand, a plate in the other, he thought maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

Jon shivered, the sensation of being stared at prickling the back of his neck. He spun around, trying to appear casual, and spotted Elias at last. He was standing with a large man, broad and wearing a deep blue suit, scruffy beard a mix of tawny and white. Elias crooked his finger, smiling primly. As Jon made his way over to the pair-who he could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen previously, he was intercepted by a short bald man in a plum velour suit, leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ah, Archivist,” he smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake before seeing Jon’s hands were full, and nodding his head instead. “Congratulations on your promotion. Elias has told me he expects great things from you.”

Jon smiled politely, glancing over to see Elias and the other man gone again. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to the man. “It’s a shame about Gertrude, yes, but I’m hoping I can do her proud,” he said in a practiced tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was Tim? He was just with him.

“Of course, of course. I was hoping I could have a word?”

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you see, I was rather concerned when I heard Gertrude’s position had been left open. When Elias said you yourself where at the junction to take over, I wanted to meet you for myself. I worry about the Archivists in your institute, so many of you do such monumental work for so little recognition. Do you worry your work to be meaningless? Your name insignificant when it is all said and done?”

(It is this conversation he remembers, months later, when he demands to record Prentiss’ attack. He refuses to be another mystery, a name on a placard to be wondered about.)

“I-ah, yes? No?” What was the right answer here? Jon stammered out a half-assed reply about doing his best, midway through when he felt a hand firmly on his shoulder, where his neck and collarbone met. Glancing to his peripheral, he saw a golden ring, an eye, and was frustratingly grateful to hear the cool tones of Elias Bouchard over his shoulder.

“Now Simon,” he said, voice even, “you aren’t trying to scare my dear Archivist, are you?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze but remained put. “Jon, I believe you’ve heard of Simon Fairchild, a significant donor to our establishment.”

Jon nodded wordlessly, not really listening to the two bureaucrats delve off into some topic or other, craning his neck to look for Tim. The music had picked up, he registered dimly, a orchestral melody led by a violin, sharp and whimsical.

“Jon?” Another squeeze to his neck, and Jon tried not to wince. “Wouldn’t you agree,” Elias asked, voice patient at surface level. “That the best way to move forward is to restructure the Archive?”

Jon nodded, trying to recall the answer he had rehearsed. “Yes, ah—my team and I have worked quite hard at recording the statements a-and organizing them in a way that will last long-term.”

“Ah, what a delight,” Simon—Mr. Fairchild—said warmly. Jon was reminded of the voices adults would use when they spoke to him as a child, when his inane facts about space or etymology had moved from endearing to obnoxious.

The conversation lasted for what felt like days, Jon feeling rather like Mr. Fairchild’s cane: a statement piece, contributing nothing to the conversation but unable to find a smooth exit. Leading questions from Elias led to thankfully rehearsed answers before Simon found his own exit and walked away smoothly, eyes wide and taking the room in.

“I-I really should find Tim,” Jon muttered, glancing around the room anxiously.

“Nonsense. He’ll be back,” Elias said, releasing Jon’s shoulder and taking his elbow in turn, “I would like to introduce you to a few dear friends of mine. I believe Tim is keeping one occupied at present.” Jon sighed inwardly (and maybe outwardly as well) and allowed himself to be led around the room. His wine glass was empty, as was his plate and he found it snatched away by a member of catering. He had nothing to cling to, to keep his hands busy, and was struggling not to pull out his delicately-placed hair pin just so he could fiddle with something.

Jon was taken on a tour of old rich people of England. Names flew past him, conversation buzzed around him, and still Jon felt like nothing more than a well-dressed trophy to be ogled at. Did Gertrude do this every year, he wondered dimly. No wonder she disappeared. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times, speaking when needed, and feeling the swirl of the orchestra build up in pressure behind his eyes. The music was beautiful but hard to listen to. Something about it was ugly, hiding a dark secret behind the innocent melodies.

Eventually, the evening was so much of a blur that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much time had passed. It may have been weeks, may have been merely twenty minutes. Jon glanced down for his watch before realizing he had taken it off at Tim’s flat and never strapped it back on. Pity. It only added to the dreamscape reality he seemed to be participating in.

At last, Elias led him towards the large burly man that was suddenly in view (hadn’t he always been? Jon wasn’t quite sure. The wine must have affected him more than he thought with the nerves) and Jon saw Tim, similarly trapped in conversation as he had been. He smiled apologetically as Jon and Elias approached and the larger man smiled warmly at the newcomers.

“Ah, Archivist. I hope you don’t mind I stole your companion away briefly. I was curious about the nitty-gritty of your Archive. Timothy here was very informative.” Tim winced at the use of his full name and a part of Jon smirked, relating to the sentiment of being called Jonathan or worse, John.

“I’m glad he can answer your questions.” Elias spoke before Jon could open his mouth. “I’m quite proud of the Archive staff. Jon chose well and I am sure the four of them are going to do great things together. Jon, you remember the Lukas family?”

Jon nodded, confused for a second before the man in front of him extended his hand. “Peter Lukas, at your service.” The hand was cold, and a feeling of dismay washed over Jon as he shook it. He couldn’t help the feeling that the shake of that hand was a seal of his fate.

The orchestral music had picked up, a swirl of strings and piano, ascending in pitch until it grated at Jon’s ears. No one else seemed to react to it, however, as the manic notes pulling at something inside Jon’s brain, something he couldn’t explain. It was almost like a migraine, but sharper and deep in his spine and in his ears. Elias let go of Jon’s arm at some point during the conversation with Peter Lukas, a discussion about boats, maybe? Travel? This was the conversation Elias was so keen on Jon being a part of?

As Jon felt that grip relax, the glint of the ring on Elias’ finger seeming to wink at him, Jon took a staggered step backwards. “Mr. Lukas, ah-Peter, it’s been a pleasure. Elias, ex-excuse me.”

Jon turned and dashed out of the library, feet carrying him on instinct through the winding halls and down the stairs of the institute, deep into the Archives. He stopped when he felt his feet echo against the cold, solid lino of the archival storage and bent over, hand on the wall, gasping in shallow, rapid bursts. It was too much, it was too much, he thought he could do this but it was too much and he wasn’t enough for them-

“Woah-boss.” Tim was there. When did Tim get here? Was he speaking out loud? Shit. “Jon, yeah-hey, Jon. I’m here. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re going to black out if you’re not careful.”

Jon felt his suit jacket being shrugged off of him and the newly allowed freedom of his shoulder helped. He took a deep, sputtering breath, the sweet oxygen flooding his system and sharpening his thoughts.

“The-the music and the talking,” he said under his breath, Tim craning to listen without infringing on his personal space. “Too-too much.”

“The music? Jon, hey, hey, just focus on calming down, okay? That was a dick move of Elias to separate us immediately. I was talking to that Lukas guy for way too long. Not even sure what we talked about. I think he’s just one of those guys.” Jon smirked to himself as he focused on the floor beneath his feet, breathing slowly until his heart rate had resumed a normal rhythm.

“Says you,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he pressed his warm cheek to the cold wall.

“You bastard!” Jon felt a light swat on his shoulder. “I listen to people! I have meaningful conversation; just ask Martin and Sasha and Alexa from Library and Calvin from Artefact Storage. I am practically a professional listener.”

Jon smirked, satisfied with his jab and turned around, now pressing his back to the wall. “God, Tim, I do not want to go back in there.” It was hard to admit out loud, even if the evidence was written all over his face.

“Okay. So, we won’t.”

“What?” the answer was so mind-bogglingly simple, Jon reeled.

“We don’t want to be here. We’ve talked, we’ve eaten. Let’s just leave. I can tell Elias I had an emergency and you had to escort me home, like a true gentleman.”

“Lie to Elias? I feel like that cant end well.” The offer was tempting, Jon hadf to admit.

“I mean, Sasha has keys to my flat. I could ask her to start a fire, if you think that’s sufficient?”

Jon barked out a laugh at that. “Ah, no, lets save a fire for something big. Yes. Let’s-let’s go, Tim. And-er, I suppose I should thank you. For coming tonight. I know its not an ideal way to spend an evening.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim did a twirl, Jon’s own jacket slung over his shoulder. “I look hot. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dress up like this? You’re dreaming.” He smirked and took Jon’s arm, leading him back up the stairwell. It felt different than Elias’s touch. That had been a cold tug, directional and leashed. This felt…snug, more like a link in a chain than anything else. Comforting, reassuring.

(Luckily, they weren’t laughed out of the Nando’s they popped into late at night. Lemon and herb and spices covered their hands, but they were careful to keep their jackets clean. Jon, when looking back on the evening; remembers this moment, talking and laughing and letting the fresh night air was over them. Elias, Lukas, and Fairchild be damned. He’d deal with that tomorrow.)

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #tim stoker #prompt fic #black-tie #elias bouchard #still a dick #peter lukas #simon fairchild #sasha james #me? write everyone BUT martin>#amazing

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emsartwork · 4 years

Note

i forgot to add: how do design ????!?!??????

So I’m not expert but this is how I think of character design! (also sry if you were asking about clothing/outfit design thats a little different)

under the cut because this is long im so sorry

So in my opinion there are three really important aspects for character design!

AESTHETIC: obviously everybody’s aesthetic is different, but this is more about what vibe the character has, what makes them THEM design wise.

INTENTION: who is the character supposed to be? this can range from their personality, their back story, their occupation, or their role in the story, but the design need to fit that intention.

COHESION: does the design go well together? or do certain aspects clash too much? obviously you can have disjointed parts of a character design, and if those serve a purpose then thats fine, but if its so disjointed its distracting from the character as a whole you might need to tweak things.

AESTHETIC: the contrasting part of the design (white flowers in dark hair, dark trim on dress, and dark shoes) provide interest to the eye. The mixing of round and sharp shapes also keeps the design from feeling “boring” even though its relatively simple.

INTENTION: so what role would this little doodle character have? according to her design elements, shes cute and friendly with her round shapes (bouncy balls, babies, etc), but could have a sharp/fast/active or even dangerous edge to her with the triangles (arrows, knives etc). of course the design doesn’t limit her possible roles. She could be a bubbly younger sister who teases the older protagonist, or maybe she’s the villain hiding in plain sight. the shape this character design doesn’t really have is squares(think bricks and rocks), which communicates that she might not be really strong, steady, or reliable.

COHESION: repeating the curves across her whole design builds cohesion, it communicates that “yes, these are all part of the same character”, it also allows the eye to “rest” on a familiar shape or line.

NOW LETS LOOK AT SOME DESIGNS

(Boku no Hero Academia) so both of these characters are super heroes, but have vastly different design elements. so lets analyze them.

OCHAKO(the pink one) is all rounds, with a few pointed shapes in hair mostly, but a little on her costume as well. Her personality is cute, bubbly, and friendly which perfectly suits her soft and bouncy design. Howevre she also has a very slight edge to her, which is seen her determination and drive to improve herself over the course of the anime.

KIRISHIMA(the red one) at first glance, seems to be super pointy!! shapes that are usually seen on villains or really dangerous characters, but while he IS sharp(literally sometimes) and sometimes aggressive, he is also made of squares, which perfectly suits his loyal “i gotchu bro” attitude towards most of the other characters in the anime.

ISSUE AREAS: so the only problems i have with Ochako and Kirishima’s designs is that their costumes each have one area that clashes a little too much for my taste. With Ochako, the belt over the color blocking stripes down her crotch are......questionable taste wise. I think the design would be better if the pink chest ended above the belt in a shallow v. not only would this mirror the triangle aspects of her hair, it would fit the belt outline, and continue the trend her costume has of being “grounded” or “heavy”. Kirishima has those.... gears??? around his shoulders??? and while the gear teeth are technically squares, the gear shape itself is a circle, which is a shape that isn’t present anywhere else in his design. I think changing the gears to something similar to his boots or his mask/headgear would create a more cohesive design(also the gears just look hard to move in)

These two characters are presented as individuals so their costumes don’t have to match at all even though they are still seen as “connected” because of the art style for the face, hair, and body.

In a group giving the outfits cohesive motifs is an easy way to present a strong team image! In Yuki Yuna is a Hero, the girls all have colored lines(usually princess seam placement), armor or fabric hip accents, covered arms, and similar flower shapes in their hair. The Aesthetic of each girl is strong in a monochrome signature color, but not over whelming as the black+white connects them even in color so they aren’t out of place.

Speaking of color! if your characters are all similar looking (like same body for all of them) you can communicate their personality and aesthetic just with color! (only gonna talk about a few of the ponies) Pinkie Pie (the really pink one) is energetic and playful, so her color scheme is a variation of the primary colors(happy, child like), and have one of the more saturated colors(high energy, intense) of these characters in a large quantity. Apple Jack (the orange one) is a down to earth farm girl, and her color palette is accordingly, mostly earth tones, its also warm analogous colors, which makes her appear un-complicated and warm personality wise. the pop of red is a nice touch to add interest, but notice that its uses sparingly in her cutie mark and tail accessory. Rarity on the other hand is elegant and fussy, her high contrast scheme of white and dark blue/purples gives her more visual interest and is something that makes her appear more “complex” in addition to the gradient thats included in her hair. the colors are also all cool colors, bringing to mind cool glass or water which both have connotations of grace and beauty.

however all the characters here are unified by their colors being on the pastel side, which is also important for a cohesive cast.

another, short, note on color; making the color/line/shading of your figure different from the background can help them stand out, this is used ESPECIALLY in children’s media, but can be applied to any illustration or animation as needed.

Color can also help your characters “read” quickly on screen, the powerpuff girls are a prime example, of having a distinct color blocking and silhouette. even the color blobs at the top and my crappy hand silhouettes STILL read as the characters despite being broken down into abstract elements. I also really enjoy the thick outline in the powerpuff girls, it really makes the characters pop to the foreground even though they have pretty simple designs and are often in a colorful setting.

Also, for a lot of animation, silhouette is INCREDIBLY important for your characters, some designers sketch silhouettes and then design the particulars its so important to nail the shape. These examples from Coraline are some of my favorites (though Laika wins in my heart every time no matter what lmao) because the simple shapes are SO CLEAR and indicative of the character, you literally don’t need to have watched the movie to know these are each different characters with different personalities and roles.

silhouette can also help tell the story. In Kubo and the two strings (another Laika film) the above three characters are sisters. One has chosen to leave her home in the heavens to live on earth, and the other two stay in their roles as “heavenly” warriors. This is even shown through their designs, the two sisters are weighted on top and their cloaks don’t even touch the ground, while the first woman has trailing, heavy sleeves, hair, and robes all grounding her and emphasizing her connection with the earth.

another example of shape/silhouette reflecting the story, In The Croods, the family of cavemen are for the most part very top heavy, with large torsos and arms, usually in a more hunched over position, while the newcomer, Guy, is bottom heavy with thin arms and stands more upright. In the plot, the family represents the old ways, the strength and rules that have helped them survive, they look like very stereotypical “cavemen”, while Guy resembles the modern man, and appropriately is associated with new ideas and forward thinking.

MORE SHAPES, in DC super hero girls each girl has a distinct personality emulated by her shape language. Zatana is dramatic curves and edges, Super girl is hard, straight edges against curves, giving her a solid muscular shape. Wonder Woman, though also strong, is taller and leaner, lending to a confident leader type. Green Lantern is slim, her lines all flow into each other giving her a go with the flow look. Bumble Bee is, of course, tiny, but her boots and gauntlets add weight and strength to her otherwise small frame. Batgirl is lanky and has a lot of pointed style lines, reminding the viewer of a skinny cat (ironic what with cat woman i know) or weasel which mirrors her preferred “sneaky” crime fighting style. (also yes this was just an excuse for me to gush abt how much i love the dcshg designs shut up)

so in my opinion, Cartoon Saloon’s The Secret of Kells is PERFECT in aesthetic, intention, and cohesion. Kells focuses very strongly on creating silhouette WITHIN the larger figure shape via color and line, most of the characters pictured here have no neck, the one who does, Brendan, is the main character and the use of negative space that cuts into his shape is used to draw attention to him. Kells is also very strongly inspired by Medieval Illuminated manuscripts (namely, the book of kells lmao). The characters still manage to stand out against outrageously detailed backgrounds via their simple shapes and strong color blocking.

Aisling, a secondary but very important character, is not human, and has a totally different shape language from the rest of the characters. She is thin and pointy, while most of the others are round or square. Aisling also has the most negative space making up her silhouette, compare the triangles made by her arms and legs in the above picture to the figures in the first image where everybody’s body is self contained with no negative space. She is also very different color wise, very pale and cool colored, as opposed to the warm saturated colors of the human characters. (yes this was another excuse to gush abt one of my fave pieces of media deal with it)

hopefully that wasn’t too rambley and actually helps? if yall have more specific design questions lemma know lol

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

Note

How about some of Dark seeing the other egos in colour for the first time in the colorblind au (bonus points if wilds being supportive husband)

@somebodywithawifi

You’re on to something very good here.

Read part one here, part two here, or read over on AO3!

Word count: 727

After the successful date night that allowed Dark to see the world in proper colour for the first time, it was safe to say his view on the world had brightened somewhat. Another set of glasses were ordered that would work better indoors. Wilford was helping him learn colour names and how to better identify various shades, and would even find silly, colourful suspenders to make Dark smile (and what a nice reward that was!). The first few days wearing the glasses were distracting. Dark would work, something new would appear, and he would find himself comparing the colours to what he normally saw. While the relief never faded, Dark allowed himself to get used to the sights he much preferred.

The monthly board meeting two weeks after the date was the first time the egos saw Dark’s new glasses. Yandereiplier was the one to ask while everyone was setting up. They were only helping Host bring in some documents, but curiosity took the better of them

“They’re for reading,” Dark explained without lifting his gaze from the minutes of the last meeting.

“Oh! Well, they’re really pretty. They suit you, senpai!” Yan’s bright response had Dark glance up in surprise, and freeze. Their hair was dyed such a vivid shade of red, and the scarf of their uniform matched it. Yan took a nervous step back, hands wringing. “Is something wrong? I-I mean, I know I’m not to wear my school uniform when I’m interning here but -”

“No, no. It’s not that. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you since Wilford helped you with your hair. It’s a nice shade of red.” The student was bowled over by the compliment, but they took in their stride with a wide grin, bowing before hurrying out. Across the table, Wilford gave Dark a thumbs up.

In the middle of the meeting, a very timid Eric entered with a request for Google from one of the project managers. With all eyes off him, Dark was able to realise that the sweater that Dr. Iplier had called “Eric’s comfort item” was actually forest green. All this time, he had thought it to be ochre, but this made more sense given how fond of the colour Eric was. With the door open, the King of the Squirrels took the chance to dart in and steal a bar of chocolate from the table. Dark managed to hide his surprised laugh with a cough. He had assumed the royal was clad in white and gold, but his outfit was a rather sophisticated shade of red. It almost looked comical, yet entirely fitting.

Just as they were finishing up, in barged two Jims with ‘breaking news’ for Wilford. Both were wearing ridiculous, sky-blue shirts with pineapples on them. The entity paused, blinking at the odd sight, before forcing himself to pack up.

“Colour is an unusual thing, is it not?” Host’s low voice broke the silence. “Colour blindness is not a unique problem. There’s no shame in being honest.”

“I don’t think they’d understand the newness of it all. Worse, I can only imagine them going out of their way to wear ridiculous things to catch my attention. Will is the only one I’ll allow to do that.” Host nodded in understanding.

“If they do, let them. There is magic in colour. Inspiration can come running at the vividness of flowers, the tranquility of a park, the fleeting moments in a sunset. There is no harm in such things.” Dark opened his mouth to ask a question, but Host continued, “I do miss colour, yes. My narrations don’t allow the full spectrum that was once there. But it is alright. I remember what it was like, and can artificially dot the missing colours in. But you… You can build new memories with them. Don’t let shame stop you. Embrace the opportunity you’ve been given.”

“Thank you, Host. It’s nice to know you understand what it’s like.”

“An artist of any sort never forgets the importance of colours. For instance, you thought I wore an off-white jacket. My trench coat is beige. However, your assumption of me wearing old, ragged off-white material around my eyes is completely.” He finished with a knowing smirk as he rose to his feet. “Embrace the colour, Dark. It’s a nice change from your moody, monochromatic views.”

#darkstache #darkiplier #Wilford Warfstache #yanderiplier #the host markiplier #Cracked Mirror (Dark)#Rose Petals (Wilford)#Love Driven (Yan)#Blind Spite (Host)#(I do like that people are enjoying this accidental au ;u; )#dark is colourblind

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maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

it's me and you

hello friends. happy Wednesday. welcome to the work that inspired 'Tuesday minus five'.

tw for alcohol and a scene that might be triggering to those who struggle with disordered eating.

otherwise, please enjoy.

“Jayjay!” Cady calls loudly, leaping onto her fiancée from above. Janis yelps and catches her.

“Jesus Christ, Peanut, don’t do that,” she breathes once Cady is safely on the bed next to her. “What is it?”

Cady rolls on top of her and hovers over her on her elbows. “We have a wedding to plan.”

Janis grins a little at the reminder. “That we do. I’m guessing you want to do it now?”

“Uhhuh,” Cady nods happily. “Well, not all of it. But I want to start now.”

“Okay,” Janis says, rubbing over the backs of Cady’s arms. “You gonna let me up?”

Cady groans like it’s a terrible inconvenience and flops to the side, but takes Janis’ hand when she reaches out to help her up and follows her to the living room.

They sit on the ground around the coffee table, and Cady pulls her laptop and a notebook seemingly out of thin air.

“How do we even start with this?” Janis asks. They’re not planning on anything crazy, just their families and close friends, but they still have no idea how to approach planning it.

“I don’t know,” Cady shrugs. “I guess we should probably pick, like, a date for it?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Janis says. “You wanted spring.”

“Yeah,” Cady says. “Is April too cold?”

“I don’t think so. It gets pretty warm by the end of it,” Janis hums.

“And it should be easy to remember,” Cady says, tapping the end of her pen against her notebook. “What about April thirtieth? That’s as close to the end as we can get, and a round number.”

“Works for me,” Janis says. “So far, we’re nailing it.”

Cady laughs at that, writing the date in large letters on the first line. “You’re cute. Okay, um… location?”

That’s a bit more tricky. They want an outdoor wedding, but where?

“I don’t know,” Janis says anxiously. “All I can think of is the woods again.”

“That wouldn’t be terrible,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “It’s an important place to us, and it’s beautiful. And we wouldn’t have to pay very much, either. We’d have to get everyone to Illinois, but that’s doable.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” Janis says. “Are you sure, though? You don’t want somewhere more fancy?”

“As long as it’s not Las Vegas and I’m married to you by the end of that day, I couldn’t care less where it happens,” Cady says contently, adding their newest bit of information to the notebook. Janis grins affectionately as she nibbles on the end of the pen once it’s written down. “Okay, what now… um… color scheme?”

“Do you have anything in mind?” Janis asks. She’s not terribly fussed about this.

“Yeah. Do you?” Cady asks back. Janis nods. “Same time?” Another nod. “Okay, three, two, one.”

“Yellow,” Janis says.

“Purple,” Cady says at the same time. They both smile when they hear that the other picked their favorite color. “Our first disagreement. Okay, hmm.”

“Compromise color?” Janis suggests.

“Okay,” Cady giggles. “What do you get if you mix yellow and purple?”

“Brown,” Janis says quietly after a beat. Cady scrunches her nose. “Yeah, um… what about green? That’s yellow and blue, that’s pretty close.”

“Green might be nice, but if we’re getting married in the woods everything would blend in,” Cady says. They both think on it more, and suddenly her eyes light up. “What about rainbow? This technically is a gay wedding, and then we could have every color. Everyone could pick which one they want to be. And it would make the flowers a lot easier.”

Janis smiles at her. “That does sound beautiful. I like it.”

“Good!” Cady chirps. “Look at us, communicating.”

Janis laughs and inches herself closer. “What now?”

“We should probably invite people,” Cady realizes. “Okay, who do you want as bridesmaids and… brides…men?”

“I don’t know, I think we’re going to be picking from the same group,” Janis says. “Damian, Aaron, Julie, and the Plastics?” Cady nods. “We could just… share them, I guess.”

“Do you want Damian as your best man? I’ll let you have him,” Cady says, writing down everyone’s names.

“Yes please,” Janis responds. “Who do you want as yours?”

Cady goes quiet. “Would it be dumb to pick Rhys? I know he can’t… be there, but…”

“But you love him, he’s your brother,” Janis finishes. “That’s not dumb at all, baby. We’ll do something special.”

Cady grins at her thankfully. “We’ll do something for your dad, too. What about maids of honor?”

“Juliana,” Janis says. “Mine’s pretty easy.”

“Yeah,” Cady chuckles. “Oh, I don’t want to pick between the Plastics, that’s mean.”

“You don’t have to, necessarily,” Janis says. “You could have all of them, or none of them, if you want. This wedding is already very untraditional, I don’t think anyone would be surprised if we fiddled with that part too.”

“That’s true,” Cady says thoughtfully. “All of them, then. If they want, I’ll let them choose.”

“Good plan,” Janis says. “This is easier than I thought.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx us,” Cady chuckles, looking up how to book the venue and finding caterers. “I have a job I think you should handle alone, too.”

“Oh, Christ,” Janis says anxiously. “What is it?”

“The cake,” Cady says with a cheeky wink. “I trust your judgement. You’ve always liked it more than me, I think you should handle that.”

“Oh,” Janis says in relief. “Yeah, I can do that. But that means you have to handle the flowers, I’m terrible with those.”

“I can do flowers,” Cady agrees with a chuckle.

“Um…” Janis says before she trails off. Cady looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “What are we going to wear?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to wear?” Cady says, pulling up a website for inspiration.

“I want to wear a dress,” Janis says shyly. “But I also kind of… don’t.”

“Me too,” Cady hums. “We could each get a dress and then a… not-dress. Wear one to the ceremony and the other to the reception.”

Janis nods. It’ll be expensive, but they have a pretty solid budget. “That’s a good plan. Do you know Gretchen’s schedule for the next while?”

“I think she said she’s stepping back from the spring scene this year, so she might have a bit more time. I would love to wear her stuff if we can,” Cady hums. “I’ll ask her.”

“Make her let us pay her full price,” Janis insists.

“Of course,” Cady agrees. “We’ve done pretty good, today. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Janis says.

“We’re never gonna get to the end of this,” Cady chuckles. “I love you most. Speaking of, where should we go on our honeymoon? If we don’t go too crazy with the ceremony, we should have a good budget.”

Janis has actually planned out this bit. “I was thinking… Kenya?”

“Are you serious?” Cady asks excitedly. Janis can see her hands shaking. “We’re gonna go to Africa?”

“I don’t see why not,” Janis shrugs, trying to hide her own excitement and joy. “I’ve wanted to go since we met. See your animals, where you’re from. Why not now?”

Cady rockets into her with a squeal, knocking her back onto the rug. Janis wraps her arms around Cady’s back and holds her close against her, laughing at the ticklish sensation of Cady kissing her neck and cheeks over and over and over.

Eventually Cady does calm down, but makes no effort to leave Janis’ embrace. Her face is still tucked into her neck and Janis’ cheek is squished against her curls.

“I love you, Jayjay,” Cady murmurs, muffled against the column of Janis’ neck.

“I love you too, Caddy,” Janis responds, holding her tighter. “I can’t wait to marry you.” She feels a smile against her.

————-

In February, they decide it’s probably time to take everyone shopping for their wedding attire. Gretchen had agreed to designing and making their dresses and outfits, but the bridesmaids and men still need things to wear.

The Plastics all agreed to be Cady’s maids of honor, and all decided to take on different responsibilities. Gretchen’s main one is obviously to focus on designing and sewing. Regina would be handling things on the day of the wedding, and Karen is throwing Cady’s bachelorette party. Cady is a little nervous about that.

Juliana visits for Cady’s birthday, so they decide to take everyone out while she’s in town with them.

“So what color scheme have you guys picked?” Gretchen asks as their crew enters a bridal shop.

Cady and Janis lock eyes with a small grin. “All of them. We picked rainbow.”

“Aww, gay,” Damian coos.

“All of you get to pick your own color,” Cady chuckles.

“That’s a really good idea,” Regina says. “Can I be red?”

“I want orange!” Karen adds.

“Can I be yellow?” Gretchen asks shyly.

“I’ll be blue, I guess,” Aaron says.

“Dibs on purple,” Damian calls.

“Then I guess I’m green,” Julie shrugs. “That was easy.”

Janis and Cady nod confidently and lead them into the store. Aaron and Damian go first since they both get suits, which are a bit easier. Damian’s is a vibrant grape shade of purple, which suits him remarkably well. Aaron picks a sapphire one with a similar style to Damian’s. Both will be tailored to a perfect fit for them before the wedding, so their work is done.

The Plastics go next, heading to different areas of the shop to find dresses in their respective colors. Each of them come back with no fewer than five to try on. Janis slumps down slightly in her seat, realizing this is going to take a while longer than she had anticipated.

Regina eventually settles on a ruby dress with a slit up the skirt and a slight v-neck on the tight bodice. Karen’s tangerine colored dress is similar, but hers has sleeves that loop around her upper arms instead of the spaghetti strap style that Regina chose. Gretchen has a harder time deciding between her options, and eventually gives it up to a group vote. The winner is a beautiful dandelion yellow one, with a higher neckline and only one sleeve.

Juliana is the last one to venture off, and she also returns with several options. After about the tenth, they’re all starting to look rather similar to everyone. Janis goes back to the dressing room with her sister to help weed out some options. Once they’ve sorted it down to three, it’s much easier to handle.

Julie tries on all three no fewer than twice each, before eventually, finally, landing on an emerald green dress with off the shoulder sleeves. It actually looks rather similar to Cady’s dress from their senior prom, just green and with a much less poofy skirt.

“Yay,” Damian cheers happily when they’re all outfitted. Cady insists on getting a picture of all of them together in their ill-fitting outfits for the first time.

“Lookin’ good, guys!” Janis calls from behind her fiancée. “Gay as hell.” She adds under her breath. Cady flicks her gently in retaliation.

“Yes, you are,” she murmurs. “They look good, don’t be mean.”

“I wasn’t! They’re literally a rainbow, that’s gay,” Janis insists. “That’s the whole point!”

Cady kisses her to shut her up, a tactic that always works. “We have to go feed them now, come on. Pick a restaurant.”

“Sushi,” Janis says instantly. Not a restaurant, but something Cady can work with.

“Fine, only because it’s a special day,” Cady agrees. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janis says. “This was a good idea.”

“Thanks,” Cady chuckles. “They do look good together like that.”

“You’d make a good artist,” Janis suggests. Cady chuckles in disbelief. “No, you would! You just need practice, you clearly already have an eye for colors.”

“I have a good teacher,” Cady says, tipping herself back into Janis’ embrace. “Now come on, we really do have to go.”

————-

The time continues to fly by, and it’s March before they know it. They’ve already heard back from all their family and friends, so they know who’s coming. The florists and the caterers have all been booked, along with the venues. They have Kevin G. as the DJ for the reception, which both Cady and Janis are slightly nervous about. Decorations have been purchased, and Juliana agreed to be the officiate and marry them.

All that’s left is the cake. Janis’ big job. She ordered a large sample box from a bakery nearby, since they’re back home for Julie’s birthday. Damian and Aaron came too, so they get to help.

Cady’s left every little detail up to Janis. The flavor, how it’s decorated, the size. Frankly, she’s put a remarkable amount of trust in her fiancée.

There’s a bit of conflict in the fact that Janis and Cady don’t have the same taste in sweets. Janis prefers chocolatey things, while Cady usually goes for fruity things. Janis got a sample of every flavor the bakery offers.

“Fucking hell, Jan,” is the first thing out of Damian’s mouth when he opens his front door, finding Janis with a box of cake bigger than she is. Juliana has to hold the other end so she doesn’t drop it. It doesn’t even fit on the dining room table, so they rest it on the floor in the living room and sit in a circle around it. Janis feels like they’re about to perform some strange ritual together.

She opens the box of wonders. “Okay, so over here is all the chocolate stuff. Devil’s food, death by chocolate, I think this one might actually just be a brownie. And then this is vanilla cakes, so, like, white and yellow and stuff. And then fruit. Lemon, strawberry, raspberry, I forget what this one is. And then I got carrot cake for fun.”

“In what world is carrot cake fun?” Julie asks. “I swear there’s no way we’re related.”

“Rabbits think it’s fun,” Janis retaliates. “Here’s your forks. Dig in.”

They start strong, but the cake quickly loses its charm. Once you’ve tasted nine different kinds of chocolate cake alone, it’s not quite the same.

Julie is the first to tap out, quickly followed by Aaron. They both lie on the floor in a sugar coma. Janis and Damian are determined to continue.

“I think,” Damian says after a long moment. “That this was a mistake.”

“We definitely should’ve split them up,” Janis agrees, but takes another bite. “This one is… it would be good, under normal circumstances.”

Damian is the next to go, putting his fork down in defeat and collapsing onto the ground. Janis presses on. The fruit flavors provide a nice sort of respite, and she thinks that Cady would really like the lemon.

Janis doesn’t quite make it to the carrot cake. She knows her limits, so she admits defeat and rests herself down with the rest of the group. She pulls out her phone and texts a picture of all of them to Cady.

Cady’s job for the day is to try on her outfits with Gretchen, so it takes a few minutes for a response to come through. Janis gives an involuntary groan when she remembers Cady’s contact name.

caddycakes: Oh no, lovey D: What did you guys do?

jayjay: a terrible thing

jayjay: caddy

jayjay: i have consumed entire worlds and i regret everything

caddycakes: Poor things. Why did you do them all in one?

jayjay: an alarming display of hubris

caddycakes: Ah, of course. Drink water and have protein, it’ll help the stomachache. I’ll be there soon to take care of you

jayjay: ur gonna take care of me even tho i did this to myself ??

caddycakes: Darling, we’re getting married in a month and you’re the most impulsive, clumsy person I’ve ever known. If I refused to take care of you when you’re hurt or sick just because you did it to yourself we’d both be in for a world of misery

jayjay: i love you

caddycakes: I love you too, dearest. Hang in there 📷

Janis clicks her phone off and gives herself a few minutes to recover. She’s dreading the idea of putting anything else into her body at the moment, but Cady is right. Water will help make them feel better.

After about ten minutes she manages to peel herself up from the ground and head into the kitchen. Janis still knows her way around, so she grabs four glasses and fills them with ice water for her friends.

They barely react to her return, so she carefully rests a cup in each of their hands and keeps the last for herself. Carefully, they sip at the cold liquid until their stomachs stop aching quite so much, and they can move to the couch to continue the food coma there.

“I’m getting married. I’m an adult,” Janis mumbles eventually. “What the fuck have I done? I’m nowhere near responsible enough. Look at us.”

“Caddy’s responsible enough for both of you, it’s fine,” Damian replies deliriously. Juliana and Aaron grunt in agreement.

Cady enters after another short while, letting herself in with the key she still has. “Oh no, guys. What did Jay do to you?”

“That death by chocolate stuff was literal,” Aaron complains.

“Poor things. Oh good, you have water. That’ll help a little,” Cady says. She kisses Janis on the forehead gently. “I brought antacid tabs and some nuts. They have a fair bit of protein and they’re salty, that’ll help too.”

“An angel among idiots,” Damian says thankfully, popping a few tabs and taking a handful of the offered snack. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Did you guys pick a flavor or just eat yourselves to death?” Cady giggles, handing the treatments to the rest of them as well.

“The lemon was good,” Janis murmurs.

“I didn’t make it that far,” Aaron says. “But the… the fudge one was the best that I tasted.”

“I liked the white one too,” Julie says.

“Well, that’s something, I guess,” Cady chuckles. “I hope you’ve learned something.”

“Yeah, never let Janis talk you into a dessert tasting,” Damian says. Cady laughs and runs a hand through Janis’ hair gently.

“She meant well. You just need to plan better, love,” she hums. “Can you move yet? We should get you home.”

Janis nods and pulls herself up, then helps Julie. Cady leaves another few of the tablets and the rest of the snacks for Damian and Aaron, then grabs the cake box and follows the sisters to the car.

Cady also drives them home, dropping Julie off at their house but keeping Janis for herself. Janis pouts sadly once she’s in comfy clothes and nestled in bed to recover from the day.

“Caddy?” She asks quietly after a moment.

“Hmm?” Cady hums from above her, stroking through Janis’ hair.

“Are you sure you want to marry me? I’m… I’m such an idiot, sometimes. Why do you want to be stuck with this?” Janis asks sadly.

“Whoa, darling,” Cady hushes. “What? Of course I want to marry you. Of course I’m sure. I love you.”

“But why? Look at me,” Janis whines. “You said it yourself, I’m too impulsive.”

“No, mpenzi, shh for a second,” Cady says gently. “I love you because I choose to. I fell in love with you back in high school because you’re you. And now, every day, I choose to continue. I choose to love you. I love your passion, and your heart, and your mind. I love the things you create and the way you tick. And I love how impulsive you are, even though sometimes I get frustrated. You keep things interesting. And I love you for that.”

“But do you really want to deal with me forever?”

“Where is this coming from, my love?” Cady asks in concern, gently pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. “I’m not dealing with you. I’m loving you. I’m not trying to say I’m never going to get upset with you for being impulsive, just like you know you won’t always be okay with me being so set in my ways. We’re different people, we work differently. We have different minds. But we match pretty well, right?”

Janis nods and cuddles closer, but doesn’t say anything.

“I love you exactly as you are, wild decisions and all. We’ll work through stuff as it comes, but don’t think for a second that I’m ever going to stop loving you. I love the impulsivity because it’s part of you, and I love you,” Cady concludes. “And I hope you’re feeling better, because I’ve already used up a good chunk of my vows here and I still need material for the real ones.”

Janis chuckles into her chest and nods. “I’m better. I love you too. Even though you can be a stick in the mud sometimes.”

“I never understood that phrase,” Cady mumbles. “Like, if the stick is in the way of you having fun in the mud then just… pick it up and put it somewhere else.”

“I don’t think that’s what it means,” Janis chuckles. “But that is a good way to think of it. Does this mean I can pick you up and drag you out to do fun stuff?”

“You can always pick me up,” Cady chuckles, braiding little strands of Janis’ hair together. “And yes, you can sometimes make me do fun things. But I can also be the stick and stop you if you want to do something dangerous or dumb.”

“My ideas are always good,” Janis says defensively.

“Darling, you had the equivalent of about three whole cakes in one afternoon and dragged our friends down with you, sometimes your ideas aren’t great,” Cady says gently.

“Exactly. It was a great idea in theory to get it all out of the way, but it wasn’t good in practice,” Janis says.

“You should be a lawyer, you’re very good at arguing,” Cady says lovingly.

“No way, I’m done with school, thank you very much,” Janis replies.

“You’re a teacher.”

“Shhh. Quiet time.”

“Okay,” Cady giggles, kissing her forehead and drifting off for a nap alongside her fiancée.

————-

The week before the big day, both of their bachelorette parties are thrown. Cady goes off with the Plastics, while Janis gets to spend the night with Damian and Aaron.

Karen is throwing Cady’s, and she’s a little worried that her friend is going to do something crazy. She’s pleasantly surprised to find it’s just the four of them, a lot of alcohol and food, and what looks to be a spa night.

“Aww, Karen! This looks so fun, thank you!” Cady says excitedly.

“You’re welcome! Bride emoji, balloon emoji. I wanted to do something bigger, but I don’t think you would’ve liked that. So, we get to do face masks and watch movies!” Karen says.

“Yeah, this is perfect. I love it,” Cady says.

Janis shows up to Damian and Aaron’s apartment, slightly nervous about what she’ll find. Damian lets her in, and she’s pleasantly surprised to find a painting set up and a fair bit of food and booze.

“Aww, Dame,” Janis says happily. “This is great! What are we doing?”

“Getting fucked up and painting stuff,” Damian replies. Aaron comes out from the kitchen with a tray of even more snacks. “And eating. And then maybe we’ll watch movies, I don’t know yet.”

Janis hugs him tightly. “This is perfect.”

“I know,” Damian jokes. “Let’s get going, you’ll have to teach us your painting extraordinaire ways.”

“I’ll try,” Janis chuckles.

————-

Cady is squished in between Gretchen and Karen on their small couch, soaking her feet in a fancy foot bath and watching Legally Blonde. Suddenly, her phone starts ringing with a Facetime call.

“Damian? What’s up?” She asks confusedly when his face pops into view.

“Um… Janis is kind of… drunk,” he says anxiously. “And crying. Can you talk to her?”

“Oh no,” Cady pouts. “Of course I’ll talk to her, where is she?” The camera flips to show Janis curled up on the ground, weeping into her knees while Aaron awkwardly tries to comfort her. Cady dries her feet off and heads into the bathroom for a bit more privacy. “Poor thing, what happened?”

“Jan, it’s Caddy,” Damian says gently, offering her the phone. “Tell her what happened.”

Janis sobs a couple times before bursting out with a very slurred sentence. “Was-was tryin’ to paint you,” she says miserably. “B-but m’ hand wouldn’ workin’. ‘N then I for-forgot what you look-look like! ‘M gonna be a terrible wife!”

“No, darling, no,” Cady says. “Love, you’re drunk. That’s why your hand wasn’t working. And it’s okay that you forgot what I look like. Again, you’re drunk, and faces are hard to memorize. It doesn’t mean you don’t love me, it’s okay.”

“You-you’re not mad?” Janis asks shyly. Her bottom lip is still jutted out sadly, but she’s not crying quite so hard anymore.

“Of course I’m not mad,” Cady says. “I think it’s so sweet that you were even trying to paint me from memory. How much have you had to drink, mpendwa?”

“Um… six.” Janis says, which explains very little.

“Six?” Damian exclaims in shock from off camera. “Jan, that was vodka, you did six shots? Jesus Christ, no wonder you’re so drunk!”

“‘M not drunk,” Janis insists. “Th’ room’s just spinny.”

“Because you’re drunk, Janis,” Aaron explains. “Let me go get you some water.”

“‘M not drunk!” Janis says again. “Was just little cups. Little baby drinks. Why ‘m I on the floor?”

“Jellybean, those were shots, and you did a lot,” Cady says. “Do what Damian and Aaron tell you to, okay? They’ll help you feel better.”

“Not th’ boss ‘f me,” Janis pouts. Cady tries to hold back a laugh. Janis is cute when she’s drunk, but Cady is glad she doesn’t have to encounter it too often.

“They are for tonight, then I’ll help with your hangover tomorrow,” Cady says. “Behave, or no cuddles.”

“No cuddles?” Janis asks in shock, and her lower lip starts trembling again. Cady mutes herself for a second to give an exasperated sigh.

“Less cuddles. I’ll cuddle you a little bit. But if you listen and actually do what they tell you to, you’ll get more cuddles,” she says. It’s all in the phrasing.

“Oh. Mmkay,” Janis says, suddenly sounding much happier. Cady sighs in relief when she sees her chug down the water. “Caddy, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Bluejay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cady says. “Keep drinking water.”

Janis suddenly sits upright and stares at the screen for a second. “Caddy, I can see you.”

“I know,” Cady chuckles. “I can see you too.”

“No, I can see you! Stay,” Janis says. “Can paint you now.”

“Jellybean, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cady says gently. “You should be resting. Why don’t you watch a movie with Damian and Aaron?”

Janis pouts. “But you’re not here. How ‘m I s’posed to watch movie with no Caddy?”

Cady grins at her. “I love you. Why don’t you take tonight to watch all your favorite scary movies? I’m sure we’ll be able to watch some other happy ones together tomorrow.”

“Mmkay,” Janis whines. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, darling,” Cady chuckles. “You’re very pretty too. Go get comfy.”

Janis picks herself up from the ground and heads to the couch, cuddling in with a blanket. Damian sits next to her, and Aaron sits on his other side.

“There. Keep hydrated, mpendwa. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you,” Cady says. Janis pouts when she says goodbye.

“I love you, Caddy,” she says. “G’night.”

Cady blows her kisses and hangs up before heading back to her friends.

“Everything good?” Regina asks, looking up from her phone.

“Janis got drunk and started crying because she couldn’t remember what I look like,” Cady sighs. “Give me something, I need a drink too.”

Gretchen helpfully pours her a shot of their favorite bubblegum schnapps, and Cady downs it like it’s nothing.

“Thank you. Now I really do need this spa, thanks Karen,” Cady says, settling back into her spot.

Janis comes stumbling into their apartment around noon the next day. Cady woke up with a slight hangover, but was right as rain after a few painkillers and some water. Janis doesn’t seem to be faring quite as well.

“Hey, love,” Cady says quietly as Janis takes her sunglasses off. Janis still winces at the volume. “Poor thing. Did you take anything?”

Janis shakes her head. “Did I call you yesterday?”

“Damian did for you, you were pretty upset,” Cady replies as she grabs some more medicine to help Janis’ hangover. “And drunk, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“I have no idea what happened, I remember trying to paint… you, I think, and then I have a vague memory of watching The Shining, and then I woke up with a hangover,” Janis mumbles, swallowing the pills and downing the water.

“You said you did six shots of vodka, but I don’t know if you had anything else,” Cady chuckles gently. “But yes, you did try to paint me. And I don’t think it went particularly well.”

“I’m not surprised. I haven’t been that drunk since… ever,” Janis says. She refills her own water cup and heads to lie on their small couch, kissing Cady on her way. Cady follows and lifts Janis’ feet onto her lap.

“Why did you drink so much?” Cady asks quietly. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not planning on doing it again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Janis jokes. Cady gives her a look. “I know. I don’t know why I did it.”

“You still want to do this?” Cady asks. Janis snaps her head up to look at her.

“What? The wedding?” She asks. Cady nods with a hint of sadness. “Baby, of course. I’ve been looking forward to it for, like, a year. Minimum. We’re gonna be wives next week, I’m so excited.”

“Are you sure?” Cady asks. “I’ve been thinking about… me, I guess. Are you sure you want me, forever? You don’t want someone more… like you? Brave and fun and cool?”

“What? Peanut,” Janis pouts, hauling herself upright with a great deal of effort and pulling her fiancée into a cuddle. “Of course I want you. I want you as long as you’ll have me. I don’t need another me, I need you. I love you. I love your random bits of knowledge that I’ll never understand and that you’re always so worried whenever I get another stupid idea.”

“But I’m so… plain. You dye your hair wacky colors and then cut it off and paint all your clothes yourself and make art and do… cool stuff. I do calculus for fun and go to bed by ten,” Cady says. “I’m so boring.”

Janis lies back down to cuddle Cady on top of her. “You’re not boring, Butterfly. You could never be boring. You’re from Africa, for crying out loud. You tell the best stories, and you help me understand things that don’t make sense. I wouldn’t have gotten through high school or college without you. And I need someone to balance me out, you know? Keep me on a leash when I get some crazy dangerous idea. I love you as you are. You’re perfect.”

Cady nuzzles into her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. It’s like you said after the Cake Incident. We’re different people, we work differently. But we work together. We work because we balance each other out,” Janis says. “I need my Caddy.”

“I need my Jayjay,” Cady says, propping herself back up and leaning down to kiss her. Janis rests a hand on the back of her head to keep her close for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Man, you took up a lot of my vows, too,” Janis says with a chuckle. “Now you have to cuddle me for the rest of the day, I’m sick.”

“You’re hungover,” Cady retaliates.

“Same difference. You said you’d take care of me,” Janis pouts.

“Always,” Cady whispers.

————-

They fly home to Illinois the next day, both feeling much better. They’ve decided to spend the rest of the week apart, to make their wedding that much more special. Neither of them is particularly looking forward to their separation, but they know it’ll be worth it.

Their friends and family follow them to Illinois over the next few days while Cady and Janis run around town making sure everything is in order. The venue is perfect, Janis managed to get the cake in order, and everything else was handled months in advance. Julie gives them both a practice version of her speech, which they love. For a barely-seventeen year old, Juliana is an excellent writer.

Janis lies awake in her childhood bedroom the night before their big day. She feels almost the way she did the night before an exciting school trip as a child. But better.

She flips onto her other side and looks at the glowing green numbers on her clock. One in the morning. What to do? She’s already not used to sleeping without Cady by her side, and now with the added excitement that comes with tomorrow, Janis may never sleep again.

She only has to think for about two minutes before she makes her decision, rolling out of bed and tugging on some shoes before sneaking out her front door.

Janis zones out a bit on her way to Cady’s house, snapping back to attention when she almost walks past it. She grins to herself as she starts climbing up the same tree she used to climb to get to her girl’s window in high school.

She’s surprised to find Cady already there, sitting on the desk chair she’s pulled over and peering out the window. Cady jumps a little but grins widely as Janis’ face suddenly pops up on the other side.

“I was hoping you would come,” she whispers as she pulls the window open to haul Janis in.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Janis asks once she’s safely inside, closing the window quietly behind her. Cady shakes her head. “I couldn’t either.”

Cady reaches for her, so Janis comes to pull her in for a kiss. They still try to hold back a little bit, to keep something special for tomorrow, but neither can resist the taste and feeling of their love.

They jump apart when a massive crack of thunder booms outside. Cady peeks around Janis to find rain slamming against her window. She grins to herself and takes Janis’ hand, hauling them towards the door.

“Where are we going?” Janis asks in confusion. Cady isn’t a big fan of storms, maybe she’s taking them to hide. Instead, Cady tiptoes them to the back door and slides it open, running into the backyard in her pajamas and bare feet. “Peanut, what are you doing?!”

Cady spins around with her arms far out to her sides like the opening to The Sound of Music, the rain soaking her to the bone. She reaches for Janis, who toes off her shoes and tentatively goes to join her fiancée.

“You’re insane,” Janis says when she reaches her. “What are we doing?”

“Dance with me,” Cady says, reaching for her. Janis comes to her embrace confusedly, holding onto Cady’s waist while she grabs Janis’ neck. They’re only illuminated by the distant streetlights and occasional flash of lightning, and waltzing to the music of the thunder.

Janis thinks she understands after a while. They’re both totally soaked, their clothes dripping and hair clinging to their shoulders. But as she’s held close to her love and staring into her eyes, she feels warmer and safer than she ever has before.

“I love you,” Janis murmurs against Cady’s lips, kissing her tenderly as the raindrops mingle on their cheeks.

“I love you too,” Cady says back. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Janis smiles against her and scoops her up. Cady squeals in surprise and clings to her tightly as Janis spins them around a few times. Janis tips her face up to see her, and Cady presses their foreheads together to stare into her eyes.

They stay like that for a while, lost in each other while the weather roars around them. After a while, Janis pipes up. “What if it rains tomorrow?”

“Then we’ll dance in it again,” Cady says. “We’ll still be married. We’ll still be with everyone we love. It’ll still be a good day.”

Janis wonders how she found someone so perfect. Little does she know, Cady is wondering the same. They lean in for another kiss at the same time. Janis rests Cady on her feet again and cups her face, while her fiancée holds her waist and inches closer.

“We should-should go in,” Cady says around chattering teeth after a long moment of bliss. “It’s cold out here.”

Janis picks her back up and carries her towards the door. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“You always do,” Cady whispers contently.

She fetches them some towels and clean pajamas and puts their old ones in the dryer. Janis follows her into bed, curling around her in their familiar way. Cady cuddles in close and inhales her comforting scent, this time getting hints of the rain they were just in.

They both drift off with a smile when they remember that this is their new forever, and their last night as just fiancées.

Janis wakes up early and sneaks back to her own house, but gets instantly busted by Julie when she comes down for breakfast.

“How was she?” Julie asks.

“What?” Janis asks with mock confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Those aren’t your pajamas, and you definitely didn’t have them on last night. How is Cady?” Juliana insists.

“She’s fine,” Janis says meekly. “You should be a detective.”

“She’s, like, half your size. I don’t have to be a detective to see those pajamas clearly aren’t yours,” Julie says with a chuckle. “Come eat, stupid, it’s your big day.”

“Julie,” their mother chides as she comes down the stairs to join them for breakfast. “How was Cady, baby girl?”

“You too?” Janis asks.

“You’re not exactly sneaky, honey,” their mom chuckles. “I heard you leave. There’s only one place you would’ve gone. Nice pajamas, by the way.”

Janis groans and smacks her head on the table.

————-

Cady starts pacing once Regina finishes her hair and makeup. She looks killer, she has to admit, but the nerves are starting to set in.

“Cades, chill. Talk to me, what’s going on?” Regina says cooly, helping fix a stray curl of Gretchen’s.

“What if… what if she lied? Or she gets up there and realizes she doesn’t want me after all?” Cady says anxiously, drumming her hands against her crossed arms.

“Cady, have you seen the way she looks at you? The way you are together?” Gretchen asks gently. “She’s still head over heels for you.”

“But… but what if-“ Cady tries, this time getting cut off by Karen.

“Cady, listen for a second,” Karen says, remarkably soothingly. Cady calms enough that she stops pacing for a second. “If this wasn’t happening. If you weren’t getting married today, would you have any doubt that Janis loves you, like, a lot? If this was just another day together for you. Would you be this scared?”

“No,” Cady admits.

“It’s just because this is, like, a symbol of permanence or whatever,” Karen shrugs. “You love each other, but this is still kind of a big adjustment for you. It’s okay that you are, but you shouldn’t be scared.”

Cady blinks as she tries to process the words of wisdom from Karen. “I-yeah, okay. Thanks, Karen.”

“You’re welcome! Now come get dressed,” Karen insists happily, brandishing Cady’s outfit for the ceremony.

Cady takes it happily and pulls it on.

—————

Janis is also panicking in another room a little ways away. Damian is chasing her around with his makeup brushes, trying to finish his masterpiece.

“Janjan, at least stop moving,” he begs.

“There’s no point to the makeup because… there’s… I don’t even know! I can’t do it,” Janis says anxiously.

Damian collapses onto the chair formerly occupied by Janis for a break. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why?” Damian repeats. “Why do you think you can’t do it?”

“Because… because she deserves better,” Janis says. “Someone better.”

“But what does she want?” Damian asks. They’ve had this conversation several times since Cady and Janis got together. “Jan. What does Caddy want?”

“Me,” Janis whispers after a beat. “But-“

“Ah! Ah-ah-ah.” Damian interrupts. “What do you want most for Caddy?”

“For her to be happy,” Janis says immediately.

“And who makes her happy?” Damian prompts.

“Me,” Janis admits with a pout.

“Exactly. You are what she deserves. You are her ‘better’. You’re her best, because you both deserve happiness, and that’s what you give each other,” Damian says quietly. “Today is just supposed to celebrate your love. Now sit your ass down so I can make you pretty.”

Janis pouts harder, but does sit back down in her seat and let Damian finish his work.

————-

An hour later, it’s finally time. Damian heads down first, scattering flower petals down the cloth they’re using for an aisle. Everyone chuckles as he does it in his typically dramatic fashion, adding a personal flair to every handful tossed.

He comes back and grabs Aaron, and they head down together, followed by Julie and Gretchen, and then Karen and Regina. Julie runs back down as well, walking Janis down the aisle along with their mom.

Janis grins slightly as she passes the front row and sees the framed photo of her dad next to another framed picture of Cady’s brother, side by side in the empty seats. There’s a rainbow sash draped over each picture frame, to include them both in the ceremony as they should’ve been.

Janis kisses her mom on the cheek as she stands at the altar, and grins at Julie as she heads behind it to prepare. She’s adjusting her white blazer when the music suddenly kicks off again, and she looks down to see Cady coming down the aisle with her parents.

They’re leaving the dresses for the reception since Gretchen had practically begged them to. The dresses took much more time to design and construct, so she wanted them to get as much wear out of them as possible.

But Cady looks absolutely stunning in her tight white pants and top, complete with a cape that accentuates her shoulders. There’s a positively radiant smile on her face as she makes her way to Janis. Cady hugs her parents tightly as they reach the end of the aisle, before coming to stand in front of her fiancée. They join hands instinctively, giving each other little squeezes.

They’re absolutely lost in each other as Julie begins, staring into each other’s eyes and barely hearing the words being spoken and reactions from the crowd. They also miss the prompt to begin their vows. Cady jumps in surprise when Gretchen pokes her in the back and hands over the ring.

Cady takes the ring with her shaky hands and rests it on the tip of Janis’ finger so she doesn’t drop it, pulling some note cards out of her pocket with her other hand. She clears her throat quickly and begins her vows.

“Janis,” Cady says, squeezing Janis’ hands. “My darling, my Bluejay, my love. When you found me in the bathroom all those years ago, I could’ve never imagined that we’d be here today. But I couldn’t be happier that we are.”

Janis squeezes her back and tries to resist the urge to kiss her before they’re allowed to. Cady takes a deep breath as the tears start flowing and continues.

“One of the last big speeches I made was our junior year Spring Fling. That was… a big day for both of us, but anyway. In that speech, I equated our entire graduating class to stars. I stand by it, but I’ve realized something since then. If everyone is a star, then you are my North Star. You��re the one that shines the brightest, and the one I can always count on to be there. But most importantly, you are the star that guides me home. I just have to follow you, and I’m right where I need to be. You are my home. I promise to love you, always. I promise to help you shine when you feel like you can’t, and to guide you home when you feel lost. We’ll be each other’s brightest star. I love you, more than all the stars in the sky.”

Janis sniffles a few times as Cady slides the rest of the ring on and repeats after Julie, processing the most beautiful words she’s ever heard. It’s her turn then, which she’s violently reminded of when Damian jabs her in the back. She straightens abruptly and pulls out her own cards. Janis re-wrote her vows this morning and quite literally ran them by Damian for a proofread, so she’s desperately hoping they’re suitable.

“Cady,” Janis begins. “That’s the first and last time I’m ever going to pronounce your name correctly, so I hope you enjoyed it.”

Cady chuckles thickly around her tears and squeezes her hands. Janis takes a deep breath and continues, trying to keep the shake from her voice.

“I want to take this time to thank you. For loving me even when I eat too much cake, or get drunk and call you in tears because I can’t work out how to paint you. I want to thank you for being my sunshine. For teaching me how to dance in the rain, and for showing me how good it can be. For showing me what it means to be loved, and letting me know how to love you in return. You light up even my stormiest days, by just being there to weather them out with me. You are the only sunshine I’ll ever need, and I promise to return the favor. I can’t promise I’ll be able to help you through everything we’ll ever go through, but I can promise to love you through everything. I promise to be the light when you feel you can’t show yours, and to help you dance in the rain when the clouds won’t part. I love you more than anything under the sun.”

Cady lets out a choked sob as she finishes, and they both quickly fumble through getting her wedding ring on. Julie coaches them through the other vows and ‘I do’s’ and then says the magic words.

“By the power vested in me by an online class I took in ten minutes, I now pronounce you wives. You can kiss,” Julie says, mumbling an “If you must.” Under her breath afterwards.

Cady practically lunges for her, grabbing Janis’ face and pulling her into the most important kiss they’ll ever share. They both pour all the emotions they’re feeling into it, but break apart after just a few seconds to keep things chaste for their families. Janis smiles wider than she ever has before and rests their foreheads together.

“Hi wife,” she whispers contently, glad to finally be rid of the dreaded fiancée title. Cady grins back at her and wraps her arms around her neck.

“Hi wife,” she says back. “We gotta go.”

Janis is snapped back to reality at that, remembering they’re not alone. She grabs Cady’s hand and leads them back down the aisle, together this time. Once they reach the end of it, Cady leaps into her arms. Janis catches her and spins them around joyfully.

“Janis, you’re my wife,” Cady whispers once the dizzying sensation fades.

“And you’re my wife,” Janis says back. “You look so beautiful.”

“So do you,” Cady says. “I can’t wait to see your dress.”

“Then let’s go,” Janis murmurs, kissing her gently and carrying her wife away.

————-

Their moms each help them put their dresses on, since they take just a bit of wiggling. Cady’s is short sleeved, with a tight bodice and a poofy skirt. The top layer is lace, with rainbow flowers around her neckline that fade out into the white around her waist. She feels like a princess.

Janis’ has long lace sleeves, and the whole thing is more uniform. Her skirt is flowy more than poofy, and her rainbow gradient goes the opposite way. She looks like she’s been walking through rainbow flower petals that gradually fade into the white of her dress as you look up. She feels like a fairy.

They decide to do a ‘first look’ now, in their dresses and technically officially married. Each of them hides behind a tree and pops out when Regina, their photographer yet again, gives them the cue.

Cady gasps when she sees her wife and reaches for her eagerly. Janis shuffles over and lets Cady pull her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” Cady murmurs. “Look at you, my love. How did I get so lucky?”

Janis blushes violently and leans down to kiss her. “You look incredible. And you got your swishy skirt.”

“I know, lookit!” Cady says happily, taking a step back and shaking her hips to show off the excellent swish. Janis chuckles lovingly and snatches her back in.

“You’re adorable. Should we go?” Janis asks, kissing Cady’s nose. She distantly registers a flash from the camera.

“Do we have to?” Cady whines quietly. “Can’t I just be alone with my wife?”

Janis grins. “Later. Don’t you want to see if the cake was worth it?”

Cady perks up a little bit at that. “Oh, yeah! Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

————-

Kevin announces their arrival at the reception, which is happening in exactly the same place at the ceremony but with a new massive tent put up to keep away bugs. Surprisingly, Kevin is doing an excellent job. They gave him the rule of ‘no original material’ which has kept them mostly safe. He’s honestly not a bad DJ.

Janis and Cady enter hand in hand to the cheers of their friends and family and head to the floor for their first dance. They chose Tale as Old as Time from Beauty and the Beast, the first song they ever danced to together as a couple way back in high school.

They sway gently around and stare into each other’s eyes. Janis notices Cady whispering things under her breath as they move.

“What are you saying?” She murmurs gently against Cady’s lips.

“I love you,” Cady whispers back. “In all the languages I know. And the ones I don’t.”

Janis smiles at her. “I love you so much. In all the languages I speak.”

“All two?” Cady chuckles. Janis nods.

“And the rest that I don’t. I love you more than any language could say,” Janis murmurs.

“Stop trying to be cuter than me, it’s working too well,” Cady whines. Janis chuckles.

“I’m not trying to, it’s just happening,” she whispers. Cady rolls her eyes but presses in for another kiss. The song comes to an end and they begrudgingly break apart for their parent dances. Janis dances with her mom and sister while Cady dances with her parents. Janis looks almost longingly at the photos of her dad and Rhys. She and Cady wish their whole families could’ve been present, but they’ve definitely felt them around all day.

After the dances it’s time for cake, Janis’ other big reveal. Cady looks very impressed with what she managed to put together. Even after The Incident, Janis went with three tiers. Lemon on the bottom, chocolate fudge cake in the middle, and white on the top. Janis refused to allow fondant anywhere near it, so the cake is covered in white buttercream and has a rainbow of frosting flowers spiraling up the sides diagonally.

Cady pouts when they have to cut into its beauty. They carefully cut out a piece and grab the forks, feeding each other the first bite. They both independently decide to try to smear the first one on each other’s face, but both laugh and actually taste it with the second.

Cady tenderly wipes some stray frosting off of Janis’ cheek and pulls her in for yet another kiss as the party goes on around them. “Today was perfect.”

Janis nods in agreement, kissing her back gently. “It was. I love you, wifey.”

“I love you too, wifey,” Cady giggles. “So much.”

They chat lightly with their guests for a while as everyone dances and celebrates, until Janis notices Cady slip out of the tent alone. Obviously Janis follows.

It’s sprinkling lightly, just barely a drizzle. Cady stands in the center of the clearing and looks up to the sky. Janis gently comes up to hug her from behind so she doesn’t startle her wife.

“Whatcha doing?” She murmurs, kissing up and down Cady’s neck gently. Cady gives a happy shudder and leans back into her.

“Checking for that,” Cady replies, pointing to the sky. Janis is confused until she looks up and sees a rainbow stretching across the sky. “And I needed a minute.”

“There’s two,” Janis realizes after looking for a second. “Look above it.”

“How fitting,” Cady breathes happily, observing the faint second rainbow just barely visible. “Thanks, nature.”

Janis chuckles and kisses her cheek. Cady turns around to face her, resting her head against Janis’ shoulder and starting to dance.

“I said we’d dance in the rain again, now we have to,” she whispers. Janis sways them back and forth as gently as she can, knowing Gretchen would have to be restrained from homicide if they got the dresses muddy. “Your vows were so beautiful.”

“So were yours, did you not see me crying?” Janis giggles. “I wrote mine this morning.”

“Really?” Cady asks, pulling back to see her. “I thought you said you already had them.”

“I did, I wrote them again. After last night in the storm,” Janis says lowly. “Everything just fell into place.”

“It did. I love you,” Cady murmurs. Janis bends down to kiss her.

“I love you too,” she says when they pull back for a second. They lean in again, before Damian throws the door to the tent open to look for them.

“Stop being cute and romantic in private, it’s time for speeches,” he insists. “And watch the dresses, princesses.”

“Okay, okay,” Cady chuckles, letting him haul them both back to their loved ones.

Regina actually goes first, giving a beautiful speech about their journey together and the things they’ve all been through, with a good smattering of jokes peppered throughout. Julie goes next and tells a story of a time when she and Janis were much younger and Janis used to sleepwalk. Julie had, evidently, woken up one night to find her sister wandering around her room and occasionally staring at her. Janis flushes in embarrassment, and then groans when she realizes that Damian is up next.

He goes on for a while, but he’s such an entertaining storyteller that nobody minds. Damian first tells the story of the time Janis accidentally broke his nose in middle school with one punch, which makes Cady look at her with raised eyebrows. Janis knows she’s going to have to tell her more of the story later. Then, Damian moves on to the story of how they rescued Cady and forcibly led her to join their little duo and become the perfect gay-fecta.

He closes with, “I’ve said for years that I’m too gay to function, so I’d never thought I’d love two women so much. Caddy, Janjan, congratulations. And remember the intervention.”

The ending is a little ominous, but Cady and Janis both laugh and clap for him as he steps away from the microphone.

The reception continues well into the night, and it’s nearly four in the morning by the time they help each other out of their dresses and fall into bed. Cady cuddles into her wife and stares at the rings adorning their intertwined hands.

Janis relaxes against her and nuzzles in, both of them sighing contently as they have their first married snuggle.

Until Janis suddenly sits bolt upright with wide eyes, startling Cady. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m Josh,” Janis says. “My initials.”

Cady is confused, but then she thinks of Janis’ initials. Janis Olivia Sarkisian-Heron does in fact spell Josh. Cady bursts out laughing as Janis cuddles into her with a whine.

“My poor sweet wife,” Cady giggles hysterically. “You agreed to the name.”

“I didn’t think! I didn’t know it would make me a Josh,” Janis moans.

“Do you want to change it?” Cady says, stroking through Janis’ dark hair and twisting little bits together. Janis shakes her head.

“I can live with it,” Janis sighs. “I like it. It’s our name.”

“I like it too. I’m Cady Jane Sarkisian-Heron now,” Cady replies.

“And someday soon you’ll be Doctor Cady Jane Heron and I get to be your trophy wife,” Janis says happily. Cady bursts into laughter again.

“Wouldn’t I be Doctor Sarkisian-Heron?” She asks once she calms down a bit.

“If you really want to, but I am absolutely not going through all the schooling to get a PhD in math,” Janis says. “The Sarkisian part of you has nothing to do with it. I’m just here for moral support.”

“That’s a good point,” Cady admits. “We should sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”

“To Africaaaaaaa,” Janis replies, stretching the end as long as she can. Cady giggles and cuddles her closer.

“You’re a goof. I love you,” she whispers, tipping them onto their sides and resting her forehead against her wife’s. Janis pouts at the lack of kisses, so Cady peppers a few on her lips until she’s satisfied.

“I love you too,” Janis murmurs back. “Goodnight wife.”

“Goodnight Josh.”

“Hey!”

hope you enjoyed!

request status is still the same, but I am making progress and hope to have them re-opened soon.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #aaron samuels #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls broadway #mean girls musical

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

Summer Doesn’t Last Forever

a/n: all of you with all your vince dunn content earned this one. you pried it out of my cold dead hands, so i hope you like it.

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.4K

A red cup in your hand the same shade as your lipstick and sunglasses perched just so on the end of your nose, you knew you looked good. You took a sip of your drink, wincing at the combination of sugar and vodka that someone had poorly concocted with the goal of creating something incredibly high in alcohol content but yet still drinkable. You scrunched your nose up at the red liquid in your cup. You should’ve gotten a beer.

“You know, you should’ve gotten a beer.”

You lifted your eyes from your cup to see a broad, dark t-shirt covered chest, so you carried your eyes further up. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, giving you just a taste of his smile, enough to know it would practically break your heart the first time you saw it. His lips were soft and seemed to be begging to his kissed. You let your eyes roll past his to take in the loose curly mop of dark hair and you knew you were in for with this one. You let your eyes fall back down to lock with his. Bright green eyes stared back down at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“I was actually just thinking that before you said it. The punch is really shitty tonight.”

He smiled softly and it broke your heart just like you thought it would. His smile shifted as his eyes left yours and he gave you a slow and steady once over. His tongue darted out between his teeth, gliding over his bottom lip before he took his lip in between his teeth. His light eyes darkened as they lingered in certain parts of your body that were outlined to perfection in the bodysuit and shorts you were wearing.

“I’m Vince,” he told you as his eyes finally came back up to meet yours.

He asked you for your name. You told him and he smiled softly at you. He asked about what you did for work and your family. You asked about junior hockey and St. Louis since you’d never been. He was charming and funny and absolutely heartbreakingly gorgeous. It didn’t take long for you to know exactly how deep the potential to fall for him was. Something in you was already starting to fall.

At a lull in the conversation, Vince grabbed your drink from you and tossed it into the nearby trash can. “Oh, look, you finished your drink. Can I get you a beer to replace it?”

You laughed a little at the gesture and rolled your eyes but nodded in confirmation. Vince extended a hand out opposite you, gesturing for you to step in front of him and head over to the makeshift backyard bar. His hand was ghosting over the small of your back as you walked together. The scent of his cologne was strong, but not overwhelmingly so. His hand suddenly wrapped around your waist and he pulled you tight against his chest. You gasped at the sudden movement and your palms fell flat on his torso, one on his broad chest and the other giving you an idea of just how nice he probably looked with his shirt off. You turned your head to see a guy flat on his back on the grass in the spot you’d just been standing, several guys a few feet away twisted up with each other laughing at their friend they’d clearly helped into his current position.

“Uh, sorry,” Vince mumbled, his eyebrows furrowed down and his mouth parting slightly as his hands lifted from you and he stepped back to give you some distance.

“You don’t have to apologize, Vince,” you said, gently reaching out and placing a hand back on his chest. “You saved me from getting steamrolled just now. You have nothing to apologize for. In fact, I feel like I owe you one for saving my ass just now.”

Vince’s eyes lightened, the corners crinkling as he cocked his head to the side to look at you better. The sunlight across his face showcased the small smattering of freckles across his nose. His teeth shined bright as his lips pulled back into a wide, lazy smile. God, he was absolutely beautiful, and you knew he had you. He knew it too, but something about the way he was looking at you told you he might push his luck a little but that he would never push too far.

“I’ll take your phone number and the absolute privilege of taking you out to dinner tomorrow night as payment.” The smile in his voice was evident as he spoke. His soft eyes were bouncing across your face, trying to take in every micro-expression he could.

“I think that can be arranged.”

—————

You smoothed out edge of your dress and let your breath puff up your cheeks before releasing a long sigh. You shook your hands a little at your sides to try and get out some of the nerves. Your first two dates with Vince had gone well, almost borderline scary well. He laughed at all of your terrible jokes. You were falling hard for his sweet words and the fact that he opened doors and pulled out chairs for you.

The knock on your front door pulled you out of your thoughts. You glanced towards the stove to check the time. Of course, he was eight minutes early. You opened the door and there he was, leaning against your door frame with a lazy smile on his face and an impeccable suit hanging off his six-foot frame. You watched the smile grow on his face as his eyes ran up and down your body, taking you in as best as he could.

“You look incredible,” he breathed out, his eyes wide in adoration. “Also, great dress pick.”

You gave him a curious look due to his tone until his left hand came from behind his back to present you with flowers. There was a full bouquet of red roses in his hand and he tilted the stems in your direction. The color matched your dress perfectly and suddenly Vince’s comment made sense.

“Vince, they’re beautiful. Thank you,” you said softly, your eyes trained on the flowers as your hand wrapped around the stems. “Let me put these in water and I’ll be ready to go. Come on in.”

Vince stood just into your doorway, watching you carefully with kind eyes as you located the only vase you owned in the back of a cupboard. You filled it halfway with water before dropping the roses in and placing it on the counter. You spun on your heels and grabbed your clutch off the counter before turning your attention back to Vince.

“Thank you, again,” you said to him as you came over, your heels clicking against the floor with each step.

Vince opened his arms to you, inviting you in. You smiled and willingly walked into his arms. Your hands reached up to cup the back of his neck, fingers lacing together. His hands set on your hips so he could pull you flush against him. Vince leaned his head down until his nose touched yours softly. Everything with Vince was gentle, but still made you feel like you were on fire and you desperately wanted more from him. He pressed his lips to yours and you practically melted in his arms.

One of Vince’s hands moved up to cup your face, keeping your mouth against his as he deepened the kiss more than you were expecting. He caused you to gasp against his mouth when he suddenly pushed you until your back was against the nearby wall with one of his knees parting your legs. His mouth was moving hungrily against yours as his hands floated across your entire body, never staying in one place longer than a few seconds.

“God, you are so fucking beautiful,” Vince groaned against your mouth before his lips danced across your jawline until he shifted them down to your throat.

“Vince,” you breathed out when you tangled a hand in his dark curls.

He was nipping at your neck and setting your body on fire with every passing second. You were slowly losing control. Your hands moved to grab the lapels of his jacket. You tugged on the material and slowly started pushing it back and off his broad shoulders.

“Baby, we have a reservation,” Vince mumbled against your skin, but he didn’t even try and stop you. He just kept kissing your neck.

“Fuck the reservation,” was all you could get out.

Vince pulled back from you. His soft green eyes searched over your face, looking to any sign that you didn’t want what you were implying. You reached a hand up and placed it lightly on his cheek.

“I want this,” you told him firmly. “I want you, Vince. Right here, right now.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He leaned down and scooped you up bridal style, making you squeal at the sudden movements. Your hands came around his neck for support. Vince was looking at you as he walked towards your bedroom. He shook his head softly as his smile widened.

“Pretty sure you’re going to be the death of me,” he told you. “Honestly, not sure if there’s a better way to go out.”

-----

The summer with Vince in Toronto was a whirlwind to say the least. He was constantly dragging you everywhere, trying to squeeze in every activity he could think of before he had to go back to St. Louis. Hiking, a day trip to an amusement park, teaching you how to skate, introducing you to his parents, bringing him home to yours; it felt like there was never an off day, but you didn’t want to spend your time with anyone else and neither did he.

Today, in a friend’s backyard, the same one you met at in May, was Vince’s last hurrah before he had to leave on Monday for training camp. You were dreading the change. You were dreading him leaving. You felt better with him. You were better with him. He just made your life better by being in it and you knew he felt the same way about you. He told you. He told you everything, said he didn’t want you to ever have to assume anything. He wanted to make sure, every day, that you knew exactly how he felt about you.

“Kiss it for good luck?” Vince asked you with a subtle squeeze on your waist, pulling you back into the current moment.

He was presenting you with the ping pong ball he was about to shoot to try and make the game-winning cup in pong. You rolled your eyes at his silliness, but you did it anyway. The childlike smile that came across his face when you did was more than worth it. He pressed a sloppy, drunk kiss to your mouth, earning groans and shouts from the people around you. You were both smiling into the kiss and smiling when Vince finally pulled back to take the shot.

“All you guys are just fucking jealous, okay?” Vince shouted to the general crowd in the yard, earning a few laughs in response.

His cheeks were flushed pink from the Toronto summer sun and the alcohol. He was perfect and he was yours and you’d never been happier. You watched him with steady eyes as he took the shot and it swished right into the cup. Vince was celebrating like he’d won the Stanley Cup. He wrapped his arms around your waist and yanked you off the ground. You yelped at his rough grab, but it transitioned to laughter as he started to spin you around and around.

“Hey, you know something?” Vince said to you as he slowly let your feet return to the ground.

“What?” you asked back, your eyes squinting a little as you were forced to look up at him and towards the sun.

Vince dropped his lips to your ear and whispered softly, “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t need to question what to do next as Vince rocked back a little on his heels. You countered his movement by rocking up onto your toes and brought your lips to his ear.

“I love you too, Vince.”

Vince was a lighthearted, happy-go-lucky kind of guy, always smiling, always trying to make you smile. You had never seen him smile like he did as the words you said to him sunk his. His eyes were bright and there was something behind them you almost didn’t recognize, until you realized where you’d seen it before. You’d seen it when your father looked at your mother. You’d seen it in the groom’s eyes at the wedding you attended two weekends ago when he saw his bride coming down the aisle. You’d seen an attempt at mimicking it in hundreds of movies and television shows throughout your life. They all got it wrong. It was love, and it was pure and good and absolutely everything and nothing like you thought it would be, but it was everything you wanted from that moment on.

-----

You sighed and adjusted your legs, crossing your left over your right this time on the couch. You titled your laptop screen down a little to compensate for the evening glare. Vince was shoveling some sort of food into his mouth on the other end of the call, trying desperately to keep up with the calories he was burning at camp.

“Slow down there, partner,” you laughed a little, also gently trying to tear his attention away from his plate. “You’re supposed to chew then swallow.”

Vince looked up at the camera and gave you a purposeful deadpan expression before saying, “Ha, ha, very funny. Working on your comedy skills since I left?”

“Has to do something with all of free, well rested time I have now,” you verbally jabbed back, a playful smile on your face as you spoke.

Vince laughed and took another bite from his plate, smaller this time to appease you. He knew you were joking, but he also knew you were right. Eating at a superhuman pace wasn’t going to help him gain back the weight he’d already lost any faster.

“I resent the well-rested comment,” he informed you, punctuating each word with a jab of his fork toward the camera.

“You’re a blanket thief, Dunn,” you sighed as you reached for your wine glass.

Vince dropped his fork to his plate and threw his hands up. His beautiful face was wearing a mask of fake horror at your words. You couldn’t help but laugh. The mask broke for a second as he smiled when you laughed.

“God, I love your laugh,” he breathed out. You weren’t sure if the words were even meant for you as he pulled himself back together to make his fake-serious point. “I would argue, and probably win in court, that I’m the least blanket aware in the relationship, but you are the blanket thief.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” you groaned in false annoyance, making him laugh. You hid your smile with a sip of your wine.

“You know what it means, blanket thief,” he told you with a scrunch of his nose. You stuck your tongue out at him and he waved the action off before continuing, “So, when are you coming to visit me? I’ll buy the ticket and everything, just tell me when.”

“Vince,” you sighed as you set your glass down, “you know I’m really busy with work right now. It’s the end of a quarter and I really need to be in the office right now. If I’m not, my boss will just pass my work off to someone else and pass me over to everything moving forward.”

Vince sighed and let his head lazily drop forward, his neck craning down. He carded a hand through his loose curls, shaking them out a little, before lifting his head back up to you.

“You said you’d try and come before the season started,” he reminded you, like you didn’t already remember that, like that fact that you’d said that and now couldn’t live up to it wasn’t eating you up inside.

“I know, Vince, I know,” you said softly, “but I don’t think I’m going to be able to follow through this time. I’m sorry. I just, I can’t take the time off right now.”

“At least you’ll be at the home opener with my parents, right?”

Shit. You must have forgotten to tell him, but your best friend from high school was having her bachelorette party the same weekend. It was supposed to be the weekend after, but something changed, and she could no longer do that weekend. You tried hard to get everyone to move it to the following week, but the conflicts just kept piling up, so you had caved.

Vince knew you were going to give him bad news before you even opened your mouth. You started to relay the story to him, but he just put a hand up to stop you.

“I know you have a good reason,” he sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger as he tried to collect his thoughts. You chewed your bottom lip nervously as he started to speak, “I just, fuck, when am I going to see you again?”

“I’ll be at the games against the Leafs three weeks after that,” you told him.

He let out a soft, sad laugh, “Yeah, I’ll see my girlfriend who lives in Toronto in Toronto. Nuts.”

You sighed, growing a little frustrated with him. You knew he wasn’t trying blame you in this situation, but that’s exactly what it was sounding like.

You set your glass down before looking right into the camera to say, “Look, Vince, you knew I wasn’t coming to St. Louis. That was never on the table. We knew this wouldn’t be easy, but you haven’t even been gone a whole month yet and this is already getting harder. It’s going to keep getting harder every single day unless we work together and figure it out.”

Vince sighed and rubbed his hands together. He let out a second loud breath through his mouth and nodded a few times.

“You’re right. Something’s gotta change, I just don’t really know what to do,” he spoke softly, as if saying the words were physically difficult for him. “Do you?” The question was even softer, barely above a whisper.

“No, Vince,” you replied. “I don’t know what to do right now. And I’m sorry I don’t.”

-----

Things with Vince had been rocky at best since the call over a month ago. Neither one of you had been able to fix the distance problem. You had both asked couples you knew were doing long distance for advice. You read several cheesy romance novels for good measure and nothing was helping the feeling you were both having. Yes, you had booked tickets to see him in November. Yes, you were with him and his family between the morning skate and the game tonight, but it didn’t feel the same when you were with him. It felt like a spark had gone out and all that was left was burning ash and smoke in the image of what used to be.

You still loved him, and he still loved you, but something outside of that had changed. Sitting next to his mom at the game felt off, not of any fault of hers. She was as warm and wonderful and happy to see you as ever, so were all of his friends. And yet, there was this feeling you couldn’t shake, like you were somehow out of place even though that was your boyfriend on the ice who scored the game winning goal and it was his name on your back as you headed down to the locker room to see him after the game. You felt like a stranger in what was supposed to be your own home.

“Hey, baby,” Vince said breathlessly as he exited the locker room. His curls were damp from his post-game shower and his tie was loose on his neck. He liked wearing suits into the games, not so much on the way back out.

“Hey,” you replied, a soft smile on your face as you leaned in to hug him.

His hugs felt different now than when he left two months ago. Everything felt different. The only familiar feeling was the one of your heart starting to break in your chest when you realized what was happening. You were losing him and neither one of you was doing anything wrong, but you couldn’t do a single thing to stop it because you didn’t know how and neither did Vince.

“Congrats on the game winner,” you told him as you headed out into the cool late-October air with him.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” he smiled at you.

You were grateful his parents were being gracious and giving you the evening with him. You knew they desperately wanted to spend time with him too, but his mom said he needed to see you more this time around. You were pretty sure she would cry if she found out how you were feeling. She adored you and made absolutely no secret about it. It was one of the things that had sealed the deal with your relationship in the first place.

“You drove?” Vince asked you.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled, shaking the thoughts from your head. “Car’s over there.”

“Perfect,” Vince smiled down at you and you managed a weak smile back.

As you climbed into the driver’s seat, Vince closed the passenger door and you were alone with him, truly, for the first time in two months. The air felt heavy in the car, heavy with unspoken thoughts and unexpressed feelings. Every minute with him, instead of making everything better, was making you feel worse and worse. You could feel the relationship breaking as you sat in the car next to him with neither one of you saying a word. You just couldn’t figure out why it was happening.

“What the fuck is happening?” Vince suddenly burst out. His fingers ran through his damp hair as he let out a frustrated groan. “We were so fucking perfect this summer and now I feel like I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

There were the tears. They’d been threatening to overflow since you were outside the visitor’s locker room, but you’d held them at bay. The dam broke from his words, from the acknowledgement that you weren’t making this up. For once, you’d wanted this to be all in your head, but it was real, and it was happening right now.

“I don’t know what happened,” you managed to get out between sobs. “Why is it so broken? Neither one of us did anything wrong. I don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand either,” Vince breathed out. His words and his breath were shaky. You glanced over at him and your heart shattered. You’d never seen him cry before and the image of his soft green eyes puffy and red, wet with tears, tore through you, shredding everything in its path. “God, I want to fix this, but I just don’t think we can. I think we worked in the bubble of the summer where nothing could happen to us. Now, with the real world to face, it just doesn’t work and I’m so fucking mad it doesn’t work because I love you. I know I do, but it’s just not right anymore and I know you feel the same way.”

All you could do was nod. Vince knew you couldn’t talk when you cried. None of the words sounded like words if you tried. He nodded softly back at you before leaning over the console to you. He tilted your face towards him and pressed a lingering, longing kiss on your forehead as you both cried.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered softly to you. “We tried to so hard, but I guess sometimes you can try as hard as you can, give it everything you’d got, and still lose. I’m really sorry that I lost this one.”

With that, Vince slipped out of your car and headed off. He rounded the corner and was out of your view. The last few strands that were holding to you together snapped and as if on cue from someone above who clearly didn’t give a shit about you, it started pouring. You were the girl crying in a parking lot in her car in the pouring rain. You were crying too hard to see straight enough to drive home, so you sat in your car as the rain came down. You loved the rain, but in that moment, you hated it more than anything else on the planet. You hated yourself because you definitely could’ve tried harder. You weren’t sure how, but you could’ve. You hated the city of St. Louis for taking him away from you. You hate that St. Louis and Toronto were so very far apart. You hated a lot of things in that moment, but not Vince. You couldn’t hate him, no matter how hard you tried, and that just made the hole in your chest widen and more tears stream down your face. It would be easier if you hated him, but you were pretty sure you never could.

-----

You tried to move on as best as you could. The holidays without him had been rough, especially since you had already coordinated travel plans and a way to see both of your families together both on Christmas day. You still loved him, and the holidays were when you were supposed to be able to be with the people you loved. Maybe that, like a lot of other things you had discovered during this break up, was just another lie from the mouths of romantics who had no other option than to spread their romantic hopefulness all the time that it had weaved its way into the movies and books you knew, into the fabric of your life and your ideas about the future.

Work kept you distracted in January and February, but by March it was getting more and more impossible to avoid Vince. Well, really the Blues. When they won their first playoff series in April, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from keeping tabs on the games. You still loved him and seeing his dream come true, the dream that had definitely played a part in you losing him, was still something you wanted to see. You wanted the people you loved to succeed, even if you couldn’t love them out loud while they did it.

With each passing win, you were watching from the sidelines of Vince’s life as his dream was getting closer and closer to reality. When he’d taken the puck to the face, you almost reached out. You wrote up text after text, asking your friends which draft was best, even bugging your mom at one point with the “should I text or should I not” argument. You ended up not sending a single one.

When you’d seen the update that he was coming back for Game 4 of the finals, your breath had hitched in your throat. You knew him well enough to know he’d been jumping at the bit since the second he left the game, trying to get back to help the team. He wanted that Cup more than anything and if Vince set his mind to something, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen, but your relationship must have been bigger than the known universe if Vince Dunn hadn’t figured out how to fix it.

You remember feeling nervous when the Blues had a 3-2 lead on the series. Game 6 might have been the night his dream came true, but it didn’t happen. They were going to play Game 7. You tossed your phone aside when you read that, before you decided to just give up and try to sleep. Worrying about a game three days in the future wasn’t going to do you any good, not that you worrying would matter to Vince regardless, so you tried to sleep off how you were feeling. It hadn’t been working since October, so it didn’t work in June either. You hadn’t expected it to work, but it was all you had to try.

You got up after several hours of up and down, back and forth sleep. By the time you finally brushed your teeth, it was already almost noon. At least you didn’t have work today. You padded into your kitchen barefoot and opened the fridge to see what you would have to work with. You hadn’t been grocery shopping in over a week, feeling too lazy to bother, so the pickings were slim. You let out a frustrated sigh as you surveyed your options. Just as you started to settle on a simple egg sandwich, your phone started ringing.

You grabbed it and answered without looking. Your mom said she’d call you in the morning to discuss family dinner happening next weekend and since no one else ever called you, you didn’t even bother to check.

“Baby?”

You almost dropped the egg carton you were holding when you heard his voice. He sounded exhausted. His voice was a little garbled due to the wires keeping his mouth together right now. More than anything, he sounded so in love with you and it almost made you cry.

“I was expecting this to be my mom,” you mumbled out.

“Sorry,” Vince laughed lightly on the other end. You heard him suck in a quick breath through his teeth. He’d probably hurt his jaw with that one. “Um, do you have a sec? I know this is out of the blue, but I really need to talk to you.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got a sec.” You put the eggs down on the counter. They survived one heart attack today, but the odds they’d survive two were slim to none. “What’s up?”

“I made a mistake,” Vince told you softly. “I thought that us going through a rough patch meant we weren’t supposed to be together. I didn’t realize that if I’d looked past then, that I would’ve realized I can’t live without you.”

“Vince-”

“Can you let me finish, please? I practiced this really hard on Sam and I’m still going to mess it up and he’s going to chirp me for it,” he laughed lightly as he spoke.

You replied with a small laugh and then your silence.

“I thought that the rough patch meant it wasn’t supposed to work, not that it was just a rough patch we were supposed to get through. We were supposed to get through it, and I know we were, because I’m having the absolute best time of my life right now. I’m going to go play for a goddamn Stanley Cup in two days and the fact that you’re not going to be here to see it is the worst thing I can imagine.” His voice broke at the last words. “It’s honestly worse than losing because fuck, baby, I want you here either way. Please say you miss me too. Please say you’ll come.”

“You want me to come?” your voice cracked at the end like his had as you tried to process.

“You’re my whole goddamn world, baby, and I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I promise if you come, I’m never leaving again because I love you more than all of this. This has been my dream since I can remember, but it’s not worth having if you’re not here to share it with.”

You would have expected your mind to be racing. You would’ve expected you to be second guessing Vince and the feeling in your chest right now. You would’ve expected a lot of things from yourself. You didn’t expect the calm, warm feeling that came over you. It felt like sitting by the fireside at Christmas time. It felt like family and joy and love, pure, good love, the kind Vince gave you that no one else did. You knew your answer. You knew it in your head and in your chest and thank god, it was the same answer in both places.

“When is my flight?”

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