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#i gotta start keeping emergency snacks in my room again
fexalted · 10 months
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trying to nap, but. the hunger.
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Ok if Javi G doesn’t work how about Dieter getting stuck having to watch one of his own movies and you’re there for him
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(Or if need be I could come up with something for Frankie or Peña)
Pairing: Dieter x Female reader
Note: A couple of “Baby”’s. Dieter being Dieter. :) 
________
“Welp. I’m fucked.”
Dieter’s appearance at this arthouse festival had been on the books and he thought it’d be a quick one. The usual wave, smile, and nod, vaguely comment about upcoming projects, a few photo ops, and leave immediately after. Back to his hotel room where he could smoke and have a juicy burger, maybe a few Kit-Kats for dessert. 
He wasn’t expecting all of this.
The panel was so elated he came, they organized an impromptu viewing of his award-winning film. The announcement was made while Dieter was on stage with the host, so he had no time to plan an exit. This wasn’t supposed to be anything official. He was wearing a loose fitting flannel, jeans, and his “fancy” crocs, for fuck’s sake. 
Dieter never watched his own movies. No exceptions. Usually, he was up for anything and everything, but for starters, he’d never get caught wearing wireless headphones, and revisiting the roles he played.
As the room erupted with applause after hearing they’d be in for a treat, Dieter was willing himself to not flip out. He searched for you, in the third row, equally panicked. 
You mouthed, “It’s okay. Sit with me.”
As he sat among the crowd, he mumbled to you, “I should have brought an extra gummy. Maybe I can take a nap or call an Uber.”
Being the loyal friend and occasional date of Mr. Dieter Bravo whenever he was in town, you were also scrambling.  The text you received from his agent, gave you clear instructions to keep the talent in the seat. You weren’t supposed to babysit for several hours. The plan was to hang out and catch up at the hotel, with reality tv playing and snacks to enjoy.
You watched Dieter’s lips pucker as he slouched in the chair, adjusting the signature tinted glasses to cover the disgust and embarrassment in his eyes.
“Baby, what am I suppose to do?”
“You can’t leave.”
“I know,” he answered sardonically. “It’s a bad look.”
Beyond the subtly cocky, I-don’t-give-the-slightest-fuck attitude, he was like everyone else, painfully aware of judging eyes, and constantly wanting approval. The Dieter only a few recognized off-camera, was starting to emerge.
“D. You gotta fix your face, everyone is going to see.” You looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the movie’s star and his easy-to-read body language.
He pulled out his phone, checking messages, and remarked, “Who fucking cares? I don’t. This is some bullshit. I should just go.”
You tried to shush him, because his voice was rising, but the person in the row ahead of you, thankfully oblivious, turned around. “Mr. Bravo! I loved you in this one. You know the scene when—”
“No, I don’t, I do not watch my own shit, you should never watch your own shit.”
The fan gasped, “What? That’s no fun. What about all the premieres you attend?”
You knew your guy was starting to zone out; he was trying to focus, but the conversation was boring him. His arm was all up in his open shirt, rubbing his trapezius muscle. 
“Mr. Bravo?”
He lifted his head, to find out what the person was asking again. Once he remembered, he smirked. “I’ll tell you a secret. I never stay for these things. I make arrangements, which I should have done for tonight.”
You grimaced at the thought of him being with anyone else, sneaking out, so he could be taken care of, whether it was a blowjob or a quick bump, or something else, more involved. Knowing you could not cross that line, at least not yet, you kept your cool and reassured him.
“Hey, D.”
“What?!”
You pulled back, with a glare that could make anyone immediately regret their action. That sharp, disrespectful tone that reached your ears was not going to fly with you. “Hey. None of that,” you sternly corrected. You had every right to get him in line, and remind him that he cannot talk to you that way. Ever.
Dieter apologized, rubbing your arm. “That was out of line. Forgive me.”
“Forgiven.”
He shook his head, lowering his glasses, so you could see those sad puppy eyes of his. “You would think after all this time, I wouldn’t get nervous. It’s one thing for everyone else to see me, but I don’t like seeing me. You can get fucked up overanalyzing everything you could have done or shouldn’t have done. That’s not good for me.”
You understood his thought process. But for his sake and your own, you were wishing this screening would end sooner than later. All you could do was be with him as you power through the awkwardness.
The lights were starting to dim, and he groaned. His go-to response? Raking his fingers through his floofy and soft curls that stick up and out. That’s when you know things were getting bad.
“Hey,” you decided to quickly run your hand on these wild strands. From everyone’s perspective, you were making sure he looked presentable. But you and Dieter knew he loved being touched and this was an easy distraction. “I’m right here.”
Squeezing your hand, he replied, “Thank you.”
Before the opening scene, you nudged him and whispered, “Thirty minutes. If it’s too much, we will leave. Hold my hand? Or if you want, you can put your head on my shoulder. How’s that?”
You waited for him to respond, hoping this plan can work for the both of you. Hoping he doesn’t see your own nerves, as you inched closer towards the intersection of friends and lovers. It wasn’t the spicy level of fun he was used to, but maybe this could go in the right direction.
He kissed your cheek and genuinely smiled. The smile you knew and adored. You could tell his attitude was shifting, because he took off the shades. 
“I love that idea. Thanks, baby.”
Tagging: @moralesfish, @heythere-mel, @oogaboogasphincter, @thefuckinsandes
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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The Five Scares (and one revenge)
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing 
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤
I
Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them. 
Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.
Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.
“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.
They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.
“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.
“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.
“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.
“Yup.“
II
It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.
Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out. 
However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.
Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.
Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.
While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.
“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“
The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“
For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.
“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.
III
Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.
They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.
Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.
However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.
As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.
When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.
A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.
“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.
Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...
“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.
IV
Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.
Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.
“Whatya cooking over there babe?“
Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.
A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.
“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“
Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?
V
“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.
“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“
“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.
“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.
Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.
The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.
“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.
So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”
Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.
                                                            ~  ~  ~
Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.
Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.
The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.
“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“
Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.
They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”
Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.
And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.
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imagine-lcorp · 3 years
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Make You Feel My Love (One Shot)
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MarvelsDC22 1K CELEBRATION!!!
Prompt
Person A falls through thin ice into sub zero water; person B rescues them and tries different remedies to prevent hypothermia.
A/N: Hello my dears!!! long time no see, but here I am once again and this time with a little piece celebrating my little rascal @marvelsdc22​ since she reached the wonderful follower count of 1K!!!!!! She’s awesome, amazing and so so great, so go follow!!! and please enjoy this little piece I wrote for her writing challenge (hope you enjoy it too lil rascal). So here it is, thank you all for your patience and let me know what you think! love y’all!!!
Lena Luthor x R//Word Count: 3, 515
-------------------------------------------------------
When you invited Lena to your little cabin in the woods, the last thing you expected was for her to actually accept the invitation.
Not that you didn't want her to come but, after you uttered such invitation, you had realized just how awkward and creepy it sounded. You had been quick to explain your little cabin was in fact located within a little compound, around a small lake other little cabins shared.
"I would love to." She had said after listening to your little rambling, with a little smile forming in her face as you tried not to blush too hard.
Now there you were, trying to open the now stuck wooden door of the shack.
It was an early morning during the late winter when you made the trip but it was colder than you had expected it to be. There had been a couple of snowstorms a few days back and everything around was covered in snow. Fortunately, the roads had been cleared of snow and you had no trouble reaching your place, but the cabin had also been covered by snow and icicles. The door was stuck by it all and you kept pushing with your shoulder, and hoping the inside of your cabin wasn't a complete mess inside.
"Need some help?" Lena's voice startled you for a moment.
You turned around, watching as she approached you with your bags in hand. You had told her you would go to help her with them as soon as you opened the door but it seemed you were taking a bit more than expected.
"It's alright." You struggled for a moment, feeling your shoulder ache as you tried pushing the door once more.
With that and a little grunt, the door opened and you smiled triumphantly as you looked back at Lena.
"Uh, welcome to my crib?" You shrugged and Lena chuckled.
"Thank you." She handed you your bags.
You took a quick look around, noticing the little dust particles dancing with the rays of sunlight.
"Sorry if it is a bit dusty inside. It's been a while since the last time I came."
"When was the last time?" She stepped in and observed the place were you were supposed to spend five days together.
There was a big sofa, with a couple of cushions and colorful blankets, placed in front of a little fireplace. A big Persian rug adorned the floor between them and the walls around had paintings hanging from them. She followed as you walked inside and placed your bags in the floor except for the big one.
"Almost a year." You said walking through a short hallway Lena noticed lead to the kitchen. She left her bags along with yours and followed you.
You opened the big bag and started to fill the couple of pantries with the groceries you had bought for the trip. Cans of food, bags of snacks, bottles of water, and some more.
"A year? Doesn't look like it." She went to your side and started to take a couple of items of her own, helping you put them in their place.
"Well, I lend it to my friends from time to time or rent it for the holidays."
"So, you let a lot of people in here?" Lena questioned with a raised brow. "Strangers?"
"Sometimes." You thought for a moment before leaving a couple of snacks back in the bag. Only then you realized you missed a safety protocol.
For the past couple of years, since you have known each other, you had known Lena to be very cautious about the places she frequented. She wanted to make sure no one around was in danger, including herself, and that everywhere she went had at least an emergency exit in case she needed one. She always worried about people.
Your cabin, however, was surrounded by miles and miles of woods, had a lake in the yard, and the neighbor next door was at least ten minutes away from you. There was no emergency exit and practically no one around to help you if you turned into someone's target. You were living in a place for terror movies, of course she was worried you let strangers inside.
"Uh, I should check if everything is okay."
"We can go check after we're done with this." Your heard Lena chuckle again. "Don't worry, (Y/N)."
"You sure? I mean, I could make a quick scan or-"
"(Y/N), really, I'm sure there are no hidden dangers here. I was a bit surprised you would let other people stay here."
"Oh, okay." You said taking the last couple of food cans and opening one of the pantries. "It's just that, if there's someone else here, I can keep the cabin in good shape."
"Instead of leaving it abandoned, you get some money from it, right?" Lena smiled. "Who would have thought you were an entrepreneur of your own."
"Well, I may have picked a few things from you." You finished putting everything in place and closed the pantries. "But I think I still should check around, make sure everything is in place, and then we could light the fireplace. How does that sound?"
"Fine by me." Lena nodded. "But we should light the fireplace first, I can't feel my fingers." She raised her hands, showing you how her fingertips were slowly turning purple.
You made a horrified face and quickly went to grab some matches. Thankfully, the last visitors you had were kind enough to restock your little woodpile and leave some fuel. In a matter of minutes, the living room was filled with the comforting warmth of the fire and you and Lena sat for a moment in the sofa getting used to it.
You talked for a moment, mostly you, about the things you could try while you were there, which were essentially hiking, chopping wood for the fire, leaning how to cook with little food, and spend your days close to the fire.
"I know there isn't much to do, but that's the idea. Peace and quiet for a few days." You said pulling your head back to rest it on the sofa.
"It may not be much but that's all I need. I was starting to feel suffocated with all that was happening." Lena looked sad for a moment before leaning and taking your hand in hers. "Thank you again for inviting me."
You tried not to blush at the contact, remind yourself you and Lena were friends, close friends now, that were in the middle of the woods, sharing a little cottage for a week. Just the two of you. Alone. Nothing extraordinary. Something friends did all the time.
"Yeah, anytime." You said smiling and even when Lena noticed the redness in your cheeks, knowing perfectly it wasn't because of the cold, she smiled too. "Should we check the house now?"
"Sure." She said and you both stood from your seats.
First you searched the living room, where nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You even remembered it being exactly that way since the last time you had been there. You moved then into the kitchen, although you had already filled the pantries with food and snacks, there wasn't much to look into. Next, there were a couple of rooms, placed behind the living room and the kitchen and separated by the hallway. There was a bed in each one and Lena was a bit disappointed when you told her you would have your own rooms.
"No need to share a bed." You laughed a bit awkwardly and moved to check under one of the beds.
"Alright." She replied with a small sigh that you could hear.
You would have wanted to ask what that sigh meant but thought best of it. "All clear."
"Good."
You stood and walked to the door. "Alright, so, uh, this is your room and I don't know, I still haven't showed you the lake so maybe we could go for a while after we unpack."
"Okay, I like how that sounds." Lena said meeting you at the door. She was a bit closer to you than you would have expected and you felt your heart skip a beat. "Let's go for our bags."
"Right." You moved to the side and walked with Lena to the main door, unaware of the grin that had formed in her face. You took your bags and headed back to your rooms.
An hour later, you were out of the cabin, walking through the dirt road that lead to the shore of the lake. You had to kick your way through the snow that had accumulated around but you managed. The lake itself was frozen, the blue and white of the surface contrasting with the clear blue sky and the dark brown trees. The light reflected on it, making everything around brighter. It reminded you a bit of Lena's smile.
"It looks beautiful." She said stopping near the shore.
"It is." You said while looking at her.
"I get why you like this place." She turned to look at you and you couldn't help but smile.
"It's a little piece of paradise." You said stepping near her. "And I gotta show you a little thing."
You started to walk past the shore of the lake into it frozen surface, waking a couple of yards away.
"(Y/N), what are doing?" She said worriedly.
"It's alright, the lake stays frozen until spring so I can show you a little something."
You bent down to clear some of the snow on the surface and smiled when you got a glimpse of the fishes that could still swim in the cold water. Every time you stayed in the cabin you tried to fish under the ice out of curiosity and stubbornness. Many locals tried it too and although you had never caught anything, it was fun to try anyways. Maybe this time, with Lena's help, you could actually catch something. So you had, in fact, another thing you could do during your little vacation.
"Show me what?" Lena raised her voice. She was still standing along the shore of the lake, unsure if it was safe to follow.
You were about to answer when you heard a loud crack under your feet and Lena watched with horror as multiple fissures made their way on the surface of the lake where you stood. It seemed you had miscalculated the resistance of the ice you were standing and now you were in trouble.
Just like the lake, you froze in place, trying to keep yourself calm. If you could move slowly and steady enough towards the shore, this would be nothing more than a little scare.
"(Y/N)." You could hear the worry and fear in Lena's voice as she approached the lake.
"I'm fine." You raised your hands, trying to keep them out of your body for some balance, and looked at Lena with a little smile, reassuring her as much as possible. "The ice is a little soft here so I'm gonna move to the shore."
You took a short step forward but instantly regretted it as the cracks expanded along the ice. You felt the panic raise in your chest.
"(Y/N), please don't move." Lena said looking equally scared. "I'm gonna get you out, okay? Don't move."
"I won't." You swallowed hard, taking a couple of deep breaths, filling the cold air with a warm mist.
Time seemed to stop for a moment as you tried to calm yourself and watched as Lena approached the edge of the lake. She was going walking towards you and you feared this would only worsen your situation but not just for you but for Lena too. If the ice could hold her weight then you had a chance to reach her and get out of the lake without further problem. However, if the ice kept cracking it would put the two of you in danger and falling into freezing waters was not something you wanted to happen on your first day of vacation.
Lena took the first step into the lake, slow and steady, testing the ice under her feet. She was looking down, making sure she wasn't stepping on some other cracks, and raised her eyes towards you from time to time to make sure you were still in place. She was a couple of steps away from you when you both heard a loud cracking.
There was a look in her face you had seen a couple of times before but never directed towards you, a mix of fear and worry that let you know you were in trouble. You felt the ice move, so subtle at first but then like a tremor under your feet, and you were about to jump to the other side when you were sucked into the frozen lake.
First you felt the pain, as if thousands and thousands of shards of glass were being thrown at your body in a second. Then you tried to take a deep breath, which only made everything worst. You tried to move your arms and legs, to swim out of there but you couldn't. You had no control over your body and after the initial pain you started to feel numb. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't move. The only thing you felt was cold.
Suddenly, as you still fought for air, you felt even colder, with the winter breeze hitting your already frozen face. You coughed the water in your mouth and tried opening your eyes. Beside you, a tall greenish figure was dragging and pulling you from towards the edge of the lake, grabbing you by the back of your winter jacket. Only when you reached land the figure moved you, placing you flat on the dirt and putting her hands under you. They carried you all the way back to your cabin and, even when you couldn't think, you wondered where Lena had gone and if she was okay.
"I'm fine, (Y/N), I'm here." You heard the green person say and you wondered why they sounded so much like Lena.
You still couldn't move, or feel, when Lena reached your cabin door. She knew you were barely aware of what was happening as she carried you inside and placed you on the rug. Using the weaponry in her Lexosuit, she reignited the dying fire of your fireplace and found herself in a little moment of panic as she watched you lay there, trembling and hugging yourself.
Of all the things she imagined could happen, Lena never thought that you falling into freezing cold water was one of them. She had to think quick and fast before the symptoms of hypothermia started to take a hold on you. Leaving to get some help was no option, even using her suit to take you to a hospital would take considerable time you didn't have. So she did the only few things she knew could help you.
She took off her Lexosuit, something easy as she had modified it with nanotechnology to appear and disappear as quick as possible, like she had done with Kara's suit to use in case of emergency, and ran to your rooms to get all the blankets she could. She even found a towel for you head and took it with her. She put them in front of the fire to warm them while she moved you once again to take your own clothes off. You were soaked and hadn't stopped trembling.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N), I have to take this off."
She removed every piece carefully off your stiff body, your jacket, your sweater, your shirt, your boots, your socks, your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, and tried not to get distracted by your sudden bareness. This was not the way she had expected to see you like this the first time. She put your clothes aside and put the towel around your hair to help it dry.
You still hadn't opened your eyes by the time she had finished, and were a bit unsure of what was happening, but you didn't complain since you started to feel a bit of warm. Your brain seemed to get back to working as you realized Lena had placed some blankets over you.
"Y-you hav-ve a s-supers-suit." You said through clattering teeth.
Lena, who feared you might be losing consciousness, let out a relieved breath.
"I have." She started to take her clothes off too and kept talking to keep you awake. "What do you think?"
"I-it's c-cool." You replied.
"Thank you." Lena finished putting aside her last piece of clothing and moved down towards you.
You could feel the blankets being lifted and a sudden mass of warmth pulling itself closer to you. You tried opening your eyes and in a second you could feel your own temperature rise like a boiling kettle. Lena's face was a couple of inches away from you, the mass of warmth you had felt was her own body, her own semi-naked body.
"L-Lena?" You said and this time you were sure the trembling in your voice was not due to the cold this time. "W-what are y-you d-doing?"
"Sorry but we have to keep you warm, alright?" She moved her arms, wrapping herself around you. "We need to stay like this for a little while."
"Just a l-little?" The words left your mouth before you could think better.
"As long as it takes." Lena said with a serious tone. "I'm not leaving you, (Y/N), so we better get comfy."
"I already a-am." You replied.
"Good. Now, you need to stay awake."
"A-awake, yeah." You nodded, closing your and feeling Lena's nose rubbing gently against yours. You were incredibly close to each other.
"I'm serious, (Y/N). Don't fall asleep."
"I'm not." You assured her.
Watching as you couldn't keep your eyes open for too long, Lena decided it was best to at least keep you talking.
"How do you feel?" She asked.
"Cold." You said still shivering.
"Can you feel your toes and fingers?"
You tried moving them. "A b-bit, I think."
"Good. Can you feel this?" You felt Lena as she moved her arms so she could held your hands within hers.
The contrast between you two was abysmal, you felt like a block of ice against a heater. She radiated such warmth and you were grateful you were there with the smartest and kindest woman in the planet or you would have been swimming with the fish.
"Yeah, I can feel it." You said and noticed some of your tremors had stopped.
"Okay, can you feel this?" Lena moved her legs this time, covering yours.
"That too." You felt the chills at that.
"Okay, we're making progress."
"Sorry." You opened your eyes with a pained expression in them. "You shouldn't be worrying about me."
Lena was a bit taken aback by your declaration but reassured you as best as she could. "There's nothing to be sorry for, and as for worrying about you, well, I'll do it gladly every time."
"Every time?" It was your turn to be surprised by her response.
"Yes." She said looking into your eyes. "You may not have noticed but I do worry about you, (Y/N), a lot. Maybe more than I should."
"You do?" You didn't know if your brain had suffered some damage but this conversation was taking an unexpected turn. A great and wonderful unexpected turn you had never imagined was possible for you.
Lena wasn't sure either about where the conversation was going, for someone used to getting things on her own way, she was finding it difficult to express what she wanted you to know. She had accepted your invitation thinking, that if you could spend some time alone together, you would realize how much into you she was. Now, there you were, almost naked under all the blankets she had found in your cabin and trying to get you out of your hypothermia, and you still didn't realize how caring and protective she was towards you.
If that was the case, she had to make a more direct demonstration.
"Yes, (Y/N), I do." She moved one of your hands against her chest, placing your palm where you could feel the beating of her heart. "Can't you feel it?"
Your own heart skipped a bit as you felt her pulse in your hand and your whole body seemed to shiver and not because of the cold. You felt you heart burst with warmth and, as you looked at Lena, you could tell she felt it too. No fire could compare to what you were experiencing and you thought to yourself that, maybe, falling into sub-zero water wasn't so bad at all.
"Yeah, I can." You finally said with a little smile.
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astaroth1357 · 4 years
Text
A Lazy Day with MC and the Brothers
I was just chilling one day and thought about how a lazy day in with our boys might be like… I like hijinks, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes we ought to slow down too, you know?
Check my Masterlist for more!
Warning: Slight NSFW-ish? I dunno how to tag innuendo...
Lucifer
First off, hats off for managing to convince the guy to just do nothing for any length of time. That’s some seriously impressive persuasive powers, MC, you sure you don’t know how to charm?
Lazy Lucifer=Sleepy Lucifer. He spends so many nights up late getting work done then follows it up by getting up early in order to wrangling his brothers. It's honestly like it all catches up with him... He’s sleeping in and he’s sleeping in HARD.
Might text one of his brothers to bring them in a late breakfast at some point (never mind the fact it’s practically dinner). Beel would be the one most likely to agree to it, but he also may just eat whatever he picked up on the way there so hopefully someone else is feeling charitable… Try Asmo.
Honestly, his entire goal is to not leave the bedroom at all. If he leaves, then he runs the risk of people seeing him… wait for it... relaxing. Oh, just imagine the scandal!!
Some classical music, a bit of conversation, and maybe a good book in bed would all sound like heaven to him. They may have to get up to make some tea to go along with it, just remind him that drinking coffee on your recharge days can have the opposite effect. The taste of coffee could always just end up reminding him of work anyway…
The evening can go one of two ways. Calm and peaceful or "stress relieving." If they chose the stress relieving option, best be prepared because he'll have a whole night's worth of stress to let out and he's going to need some help… 😏
Mammon
He’s going to want to be close to the MC the whole time, they can hold onto him or him onto them, whatever works. It doesn’t matter as long as there’s still some kind of contact happening.
A whole day with just him and the MC? And they don’t even have to be doing anything? Where can he sign up??
Cue a lot of doing nothing in particular with Mammon tangled up on them in some way: hugging their waist while he checks his phone, resting their legs on his lap during a gaming session, wrapping himself around them while they just have casual conversation. That kind of thing.
When they eventually get hungry then he might pop down to the kitchen and make them some instant noodles (I wouldn’t trust much else he tries to make since… well we know he kind of just adds whatever’s around to his food).
He might start getting a little restless part of the way through the day though, so they’re going to have to do something to get that energy out… 🤔
Use your imagination, I know this fandom can.
Leviathan
The reigning Prince of Lazy Days. Everything about Levi screams “goof off/game night buddy” (at least if the MC is a fellow otaku anyway).
He probably didn’t sleep the night before because he was playing/watching something so the morning will go down one of two ways: 1) He just pulls an all-nighter and begins to progressively lose his mind as the day goes on, or 2) He’s dead to the world until 2pm. Only one of those options is entertaining so you know what I'm going with.
Things will go pretty smoothly through the morning. They don’t have to go anywhere because his room has plenty of snacks so they can just chill out and watch anime or play video games.
Buuut stuff will get more dicey as the afternoon rolls around and his sleep deprivation sets in. He’ll start losing a lot of his filter and may ramble for even longer than normal with even less coherency. He’ll also get more um… "bold" than usual.
Or he may just want to cuddle with them while he babbles on about how much he loves them and how warm they are and how much they remind him of Henry, which reminds him have they seen the latest season of “My Life with Seven Demon Brothers Who All Love Me!” yet because the main character there also reminds him of them and-
He’ll pass out eventually, probably latched onto them somehow with his tail around them tenderly. Don’t bring it up to him in the morning because he will unsuccessfully try to deny it ever happened.
Satan
Not opposed to the occasional lazy day. It actually does good for his nerves since holding in all that pent-up anger can feel like stuffing an elephant into a tea kettle sometimes...
They’re going to want to get him out of his bedroom or the library if they don’t want to fight for his attention against whatever new book he’s eating through today. When the man gets engrossed then it’s like nothing else matters, the House could split in two and he'll only notice if he suddenly can’t reach his drink anymore...
May actually be advantageous to go outside with him, take a nice stroll around the House while having some interesting conversation. They could poke his brain about anything that suits their fancy while they’re out amongst the trees and nature.
If they don’t want to go outside and rather take their chances with the book then okay but the engrossment problem still applies. He may even forget to eat...
Best way to combat his lack of attention is to be a little brat that’s juuust cute enough not to piss him off. It’s a delicate balance. That means getting real close to him, like sitting on his legs, and just occasionally reminding him of their presence with longing looks while tapping, flicking, or messing with the book from time to time (yes, kind of like an attention-seeking cat).
Play it just right and they’ll get attention on them alright, but he may also be looking to punish his “needy kitty." Hope that’s what they’re aiming for... 🤷‍♀️
Asmodeus
Really? They want to do nothing? Nothing at all? Are they sure they don’t want to do him instead...? 😏
A relaxing day with Asmo is more or less like a day spent wrapped up in mutual worship and adoration. The guy wants all of their attention and love but he’ll return it and then some. As long as they treat him like the love of their lives it will honestly be like having their own day spa day in Heaven.
If the MC wants to relax, then he’s just the sort to know how to provide for them both. The only question is how do they want it?
The man can give them a full treatment, I mean, just look at his bathroom alone! A good soak in a hot bath, facial masks, back massages, mani-pedis, just say the word MC and he’s more than willing to bestow whatever their little heart desires. That’s his job, isn’t it?
Asmo may be a party boy, but if it’s a little TLC you need, emphasis on the T, then look no farther MC. He’s the guru.
On the flipside if they’re looking for a little release well… who better to ask than Asmo right? He’ll make sure they’ll never want to leave that bed again. 🤭
Beelzebub
As long as snacks are still involved then he’s all in, babe. He’ll do nothing with them all day as long as they keep him fed.
Two words. Couples. Cooking. They can’t skip a meal with Beel so if they’re going to spend lazy time with the dude then they better be planning on being a tag along to the kitchen.
It doesn’t have to be a super strict though, it’s not like they’re not cooking with Barbatos or anything, so they can goof off and make a bit of a mess together. Chances are Beel will eat the ingredients to whatever they’re making anyway so... 😅
A lot of lingering touches and just being close to each other as they go. He might want to hold their waist while they stir or they end up feeding each other in cutesy ways... Really it’s a ridiculously wholesome time.
At one point a food fight may break out and they'll cover themselves in flour, tomato sauce, or some other kind of messy food substance...
Careful, MC. Whatever they get covered in will likely only make them look more delicious to him and he might want to "clean them off".... They'll need to take that out of the kitchen, though, like what if someone needs a snack??
Belphegor
The reigning King of Lazy Days. Take notes, MC, for you are watching the Master at work...
Sleeping in and cuddling is a must. He will not let them leave the bed all morning for anything less than a Category Four Emergency (i.e. “I’m going to starve to death” or “I really gotta go piss”). He will pin them under his sleeping body if he has to!
Once they’ve thoroughly missed breakfast and half past noon rolls around he might call in takeout from Hell’s Kitchen for them to eat in the attic room. Expect some cheeky conversation, probably jokes at the expense of his brothers. Cuddling is still absolutely happening, of course, they cannot shake him off.
May borrow an anime from Levi to watch while they snuggle on the couch. He has all the best blankets in the House so they will be neither cold nor uncomfortable throughout.
His hands get a little grabby during these kinds of cuddle sessions, especially during tense moments in the show because he likes to give them a little jolt to make them yelp, the jerk... 😖
If he manages to not drift off during the show (flip a coin on that chance) the night will end in the planetarium, backs on a pile of blankets while they draw pictures in the stars… All hail the King. 😏
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ceo-of-daichi · 3 years
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hey lydz~ i’ve been having the worst period pains today and even had to come home from work early because of how unbearable they are. do you think you could write some period comfort from daichi?
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Period Pains - S.D.
TW // Nothing really pure fluff, Daichi maybe being slightly needier than usual?
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Daichi is used to being awake long before you make even the smallest intentional movements. However, today was different. As the sun peeks through the small gap in the curtains, hitting his tired features and awakening him from the peace of sleep, a small groan erupts from his right. 
Opening his eyes, squinting slightly at the bright room, he notices how you are curled in on yourself in a fetal position. His heart almost shatters at the sound of another groan that passes your lips, he knows this can only mean one thing. Your period has started. 
When he first started dating you, he made sure to figure out the types of snacks you craved and what would help you ease the pain. He wanted to be there for you as much as possible, Daichi knew that the first couple of days were often always the most painful for you.
With that thought he wrapped his arms around you, pushing his chest against your back and starting to rub slow circles on your tummy. 
‘Morning baby-girl… You need anything right now?’ His breath fanning your neck as he spoke softly, Daichi was always patient with you. Knowing that sometimes all you needed was his comforting touch to start to feel better.
‘Mhm’.. Can you get me some painkillers baby? I gotta go to work…’ You sighed, leaning into his touch, not really wanting him to leave your side. But knowing that if you wanted to feel better you would have to let him go. 
‘How about I get you some painkillers and start you a shower, while you call in sick to work?’ He said, gently placing a kiss against your shoulder. ‘I can tell you aren’t feeling your best… stay with me today?’ 
You were going to argue, but you were hit by another wave of painful cramps, the ones that felt like someone had a hold of your intestines and were twisting violently. Letting out a small gasp and curling further into yourself, you nod softly, not completely trusting your voice. 
Daichi quickly kissed your head again before getting up and grabbing some painkillers, placing them on the bedside table before helping you up. You quickly grabbed your phone and rang your boss, letting them know you wouldn’t be in the office today. 
Once Daichi knew you were okay to stay in today, he ran to start the shower, helping you into the bathroom and leaving you to relax. He knew that you like to just let the water run over you, finding the warmth enough to ease your muscles. Often liking that alone time when it was that time of the month, it allowed you time to think.
As you relaxed under the stream of warmth, Daichi was once again running around the apartment grabbing things you might need or want. He grabs a bar of your favourite chocolate that he keeps in case of emergencies from the top cupboard and puts some heat pads in the microwave. 
By the time you are out of the shower, he’s put a fluffy pyjama set on the sink for you to change into and set up the bedroom so you can both relax. There are a couple of candles dotted around and he has the tv set up to start playing your favourite film.
‘What would I do without you?’ You smile at him as he picks you up from the bathroom door to carry you to the bed. Your emotions get the better of you as you let a couple of tears wet his shoulder. 
‘I just want to make you feel better Princess, I hate to see you upset and in pain..’ His lips form a small pout as he speaks, placing you down in the sheets and tucking the heat pads on your stomach under the blankets. 
You allow yourself to melt into the warmth as he quickly slides himself in next to you, pulling you close and starting the film. ‘I love you Daichi’ You whisper as you press a kiss to his chest.
‘I love you too sweetie..’
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A/N ~ Hey anon-babie🥺 I’m sorry you are going through that, hope this soft daichi drabble helps! I know everyones different on their periods but i based this on what i would need in that position!!💛 | Suggestions/Requests are OPEN |
Tip-Jar☕️
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Drabble Taglist ~ @daichis-kitty @bigbiblebitty @honeybunny-sawamura @mrs-kuroojinguji @karasimpno @lxvelylevi @daichidaichidaichi @kisskissfailmylife @princessselfships @goddessofchaosleo @vs-redemption @ineedsomefoodpls @pandauniverse @lanaxians-2 @sullen-angel24 @thatprettybunny @marissawrld @matsukawasgirlfriend (If your name is crossed it won’t let me tag you!! Check your tumblr settings)
If you want to be added to my drabble taglist send me an ask!!
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sunaswife · 3 years
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Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.
note from denise: hi hii 🥺 I’m so happy and i love this chapter even though it’s all over the place so I’m sorry plz forgive me 🙇‍♀️
Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload
Previously Up Next Masterlist
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Chapter eight
You heard Hana and Jamie bickering in the living room as you took the burnt part off of the bell peppers you roasted. You were looking out the window in front of the sink every once in a while to check up on the kids. They were having fun playing with their father and uncles. You’ve never seen them smile brighter.
You were happy that they finally had their father, Tobio was a good figure but obviously not their real father. Earlier Rin gave his first scolding to your son for shoving Akira and he also told Akira that calling people idiot wasn’t nice. You couldn’t help but snicker behind your cardigan since he was obviously nervous and a bit awkward but it all worked out in the end. The twins and your best friends were peering through the door at the scene and they were in awe.
It just looked so natural. You, Rin and the kids. All that’s missing is a pet dog or cat. Jamie thought if you and Rin really try then you both could fall in love again and be a nice family all together. She grew up with divorced parents so she knew how tough it could be. She doesn’t want to hear you and Rin fighting in the future about upcoming holidays. Or maybe eventually having to separate the twins.
“Hana do you think you could ask the guys if they want to stay for dinner?” You said from the kitchen. “Oka-“ “No y/n, I think you should do it.” Jamie popped in. “Huh? I’m literally cooking.” You said as you reached into the bag of roasted peppers. Your fingers were stuck onto the black crisps. “You’re trying to avoid them.” She squinted and you rolled your eyes. “No I’m not.” You defended yourself. “Yes you are.” She deadpanned. “You never say no to setting for your kids. Even if you’re busy you tell them to give you five or ten minutes but when Rini asked you straight up said no since you needed to cook. I think that stung him a bit. He probably wanted to show off his skills to his dad.” She said and you frowned slightly. “I mean it’s fine, she’s probably uncomfortable which makes sense. The worst people in the world are just chilling in her house. It makes sense that she’s on edge.” The familiar voice said and you turned to see Atsumu leaning against the breakfast bar between your kitchen and living room. You didn’t want to say he’s right..but I mean..he’s right.
“...would you like to stay for dinner?” You asked awkwardly as Jaime sighed and walked away. “Mmm depends, what are you making?” He teased to try to help you ease up. “Food, either take it or leave it.” You said plainly as you flipped the pepper on the stove. “I miss your cooking so I think I’ll stay. Let me call Osamu so he can help.” He said and you immediately protested. “No it’s fine, you guys are the guests. I’ll feel bad.” You said and he chuckled. “Y/N-Chan..” he started, “Osamu owns his own restaurant, all he does is eat, cook, and work out. He would want nothing more than to help you cook. It’s in his DNA.” He said and you rolled your eyes. “Fine ask Rin if he wants to stay too.” You said. “Oh he’ll want to stay, plus we all carpooled together.” He said and you nodded and he left.
“Yo, we gotta go.” Jamie said from the doorway. “Did you say bye to the kids?” You asked and she nodded. “Sorry Y/N, we have a doctors appointment.” Jamie frowned slightly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you later.” You smiled and she nodded sadly. After a quick goodbye hug they were out the door and Osamu was waiting in the kitchen to help you cook.
“Alright boss, let’s get started.” He said as he washed his hands and you chuckled.
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Dinner went good, the kids mainly talked and were the stars of the show. After dinner they wanted to show their uncles and dad their Minecraft worlds on their tablets, courtesy of Tobio.
Suna offered to help clean up but you insisted it was fine and to spend as much time with the kids and he reluctantly agreed and you were left alone.
Your phone buzz after you sat on the breakfast bar to enjoy yet another cup of tea and you almost spilled it when you saw who was calling. “Holy shit, holy shit.” You muttered and the guys immediately turned to you from their spots on the couch. “I’m going to take this phone call I’ll be right back.” You said leaving Rin in charge and you answered while you made your way down the hall.
“Hello?” “Hi is this Y/N? This is Natsuo, the songwriter and director for the soundtrack for Kimetsu No Yaiba. From my understanding you are voicing Nezuko and Shinobu, correct?” “That is correct, sir.” You replied, “Well I stumbled across your portfolio and resume and I phone called your old vocal coach and he said some things about you.” He said. “Well I hope they’re all good.” You chuckled nervously.
“Yes they’re more than good actually and I wanted to offer you the opportunity of singing the opening for the anime, if not then maybe the outro. Would you be interested? Of course you’d have to come to the studio and sing for us and we’ll decide but I wanted to ask first since I know you also work as a volleyball commentator as well.” He said and you gasped.
“Yes sir of course, I would be honored...” you said happily. “Great! I see that you come in the studio on Monday for the read through of the script. Can you come earlier to audition?” He asked and you agreed and set up a time.
Normally any other person would want to audition after but if it’s singing, you can’t eat or drink sweet stuff before because it messes up your throat and you can accidentally burp and embarrass yourself. So you’d rather do the singing audition before and eat whatever is at the snack bar during the read through.
When you hung up the phone you squealed and did a little happy dance. You quickly took a deep breath and you made your way out of your office back to the living room. “Um...where are the twins? The Miya’s I mean.” You asked when you saw that only Suna was chilling with a kid on each side of him. “Osamu needed to check up on his shop and Atsumu had to go to the gym. I decided to stay behind because I didn’t know how long you would take.” He replied.
“But didn’t you all carpool?” You asked and he nodded. “I can Uber. Don’t worry.” He said and you nodded and sat next to Rini. “Kids guess what.” You said happily and they both looked up from their tablets. “I go to the studio on monday—“ “THE STUDIO CAN WE GO?!” They immediately asked with bright eyes. “Uh—I don’t know guys, I’m working and Jamie has work too i don’t know if someone can watch you guys at the studio.” You said. “What time and I’ll go. I can keep them entertained.” Suna spoke up.
“I’m gonna be there for a few hours..I’ll have a read through of the script and a song audition before that..” you told him. “Wait what do you do anyways?” He asked curiously and the kids gasped. “You don’t know what mommy does for a living?! She’s the coolest mom in the world.” Rini exclaimed with extended arms to emphasize the world. “Listen to the voice of the narrator.“ Akira said and shoved the tablet in his hands. It was Peppa pig. Honestly they couldn’t find a cooler role you played in? Even the side characters were fine, but Akira had to choose peppa pig.
Rin listened to peppa as she scolded her little brother Georgie. And finally he heard your voice narrate what happened and his eyes widened. “No way, you’re a voice actor?” He asked and you nodded. “Wow imagine that. You were always so shy and now your voice is heard by millions across the world.” He teased and your face tinted.
“Well when you put it like that it freaks me out!” You snatched the tablet from his hands and the kids looked at each other with raised brows. “I’m only kidding. But it’s pretty amazing that you do that. Any big roles you’re playing soon?” He asked. “I may or may not be acting in Kimetsu No Yaiba.” You said which was a manga series you both were obsessed with when you were together. “Say sike right now.” He gasped and you gave him that I’m serious face.
“Congrats Y/N. That’s freaking amazing. May i ask who you’re voicing?” He asked and you shook your head. “That’s a secret.” You said and he sighed. “Man got my hopes up for nothing.” He muttered causing your kids to giggle.
“Momma we invited dad to the field trip tomorrow he said yes.” Akira spoke up and your eyes widened. “Wait what—“ “I didn’t necessarily say yes. I wanted to make sure it was cool with you, first. They told me that they were homeschooled and you take them to different places for field trips all the time.” He tried to correct Akira and you nodded.
“Well...I mean..if you want to go then it’s fine. We’re going to an aquarium.” You said and the kids gave him puppy dog eyes. “Alright I’ll go then. It’ll be fun and you guys can show me what you’ve learned.” He smiled softly and the kids cheered. Is this really a good idea? You don’t know. But if your kids are happy, then you’re happy.
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“Rin It’s getting late they have bath time and then they need to sleep.” You told him as the kids ran up and down the hall racing with Rini’s toy cars. “Alright then I’ll leave.” “I’m not kicking you out of anything-“ “No it’s fine I get it. I’ve intruded in your territory long enough.” He chuckled and you nodded. “Children of the corn! I’m leaving.” He called and immediately the kids emerged from the hallway and began whining and protesting. “You need to take a bath then go to bed. It’s late. I’m seeing you tomorrow anyways.” He knelt down on his knee to be of eye level with the kids.
“But we don’t want you to leave. I won’t sleep if you don’t read me a story.” Rini pouted and Akira nodded and you both sighed. “Fine, I’ll read you a bed time story and you will go sleep.” He told them and they nodded.
You rounded up the kids for a bubble bath and Rin was sitting on the counter as you explained what kind of kids soap you use and such. But he was mostly watching the kids play with the bubbles. “Hey Akira do you think I’ll look cool with my hair like this?” Rini asked with his messy wannable mohawk, he looked more like the grinch. Akira looked at her brother and snorted. “You look like a troll.” She muttered causing Rini to pout. “You’re so mean.” He mumbled. You got the shower head and told Akira to close her eyes as you finished washing her hair and body and she was finished. “Do you wanna try to finish Rini while I change Akira?” You asked Suna and his eyes widened. “I only know how to bathe my dog, I don’t know how to bathe a kid.” He protested. “Weren’t you watching me?” You asked. “I was distracted with the bubbles, okay.” He deadpanned and you sighed. “Rini help your dad.” You said plainly and left despite Suna’s protests.
“Alright princess, let’s get you dried up and ready for bed, yeah?” You asked the shivering girl in your arms and she nodded. You placed her on the bed and dried her hair a bit and you began to put on her lotion. You helped her into her underwear and she wanted to wear her fox onzie so you began helping her feet in when Rini stumbled in naked with Rin chasing after him with a towel. They were both soaking wet.
“Oh my god.” You sighed. “Boys.” Akira mumbled and you nodded. “You’re worse than washing a dog.” He said as he held him and dried his hair. “Woof.” Rini snickered and Suna flicked his forehead. “I’m soaking wet now.” He deadpanned to his son. You zipped up Akira after successfully placing her in her onzie and you moved on to your son. “Stop giving your dad such a hard time, he’s new to this whole parenting thing ya know?” You told him as you began to rub his face with lotion. “Akira go brush your teeth.” You told her and she pulled her dad along with her. “What do you want to wear to sleep?” You asked. “Can I wear my Fox onzie too?” He asked and you nodded. “Of course.” You replied and helped him into it too.
Rini went on his way to brush his teeth and you were met with the view of Rin helping his daughter floss and you just wanted to melt. This was so freaking cute. You don’t know if your heart could handle the cuteness. “Alrighty next victim!” Rin said and picked up Rini. He began to help him brush his teeth. You helped Akira down from the counter and she went off to look for a good book. You decided it was best to get one of Tobio’s shirts and shorts he had lying around for Rin so he wouldn’t get sick.
When Rini finished brushing his teeth, he went out to help Akira search for a book. “Are you still soaked?” You asked and Suna nodded. “Here wear this so you won’t get sick.” You tossed him some gym shorts and a random T-shirt. He gave a small thanks and you closed the bathroom door to leave him to change. “Alright where are my little foxes?” You hummed and you found your little demons kids jumping on your bed and patiently waiting to read. “Why aren’t you both in bed?” You asked and they stopped jumping and turned to you. “We wanna sleep here with you and daddy!” Rini said and you almost choked on air.
WITH RIN?! ARE THEY CRAZY OR CRAZY?
“Baby he’s not spending the night. He’s only going to read you a bedtime story then leave. You’ll see him tomorrow when you wake up.” You told them and they both had the saddest look on their faces. “But we wanna sleep with you and daddy. Please can he spend the night. Please please please!” Akira begged.
“I don’t mind if you don’t. It’s only for the night.” Rin almost whispered in your ear and you turned your head to him. “Are you sure? What about tomorrow? What are you going to wear?” You asked, “We can stop by my apartment in the morning before we head out.” He said and you raised a brow and turned back to your kids they were already comfy on the middle of your bed and you released your nth sigh of the day. “Fine, one night.” You answered and grabbed your pajamas and left to the bathroom to change.
When you returned Rin was on the left side of the bed with Rini right next to him. Akira patted your spot on the right side and you sat against the headboard of the bed. The twins had two books they wanted you both to read but they all fell asleep while you read the second one. You looked to see Rin, Rini and Akira sleeping and you can never get over how similar they looked like Rin. You quietly hopped out of bed and put the books away and turned off the lights.
You woke up to the sun shining on your face and arms around your waist. You felt a weight on your chest and you sighed and opened your eyes. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t seeing things but sure enough, Rin was sleeping on your chest. Just like old times and you tried to control your breathing. You don’t want to be the type of ex who yells and they fall off the bed. You realized the kids were not on the bed too and if Rin was cuddling you, then they must have been gone for a while.
“Rintarou—the kids—WAKE UP!” You quickly shook him and he opened his eyes and quickly moved away. He felt around him and he noticed the kids weren’t there. You both paused in silence to see if you can hear them but when you didn’t you quickly yeeted yourself off the bed with Rin following right at your tail. You opened the door to the twins room and you saw them in their own bed hugging their plushies. You held a hand over your chest and you leaned against the doorframe. “My heart literally dropped.” You turned to Rin.
“Mine did too. Do they usually do that?” He asked. “No, never.” You sighed and closed the door.
The twins opened their eyes and they looked at eachother from across the room. “I told you mom would get a heart attack. We’re lucky she didn’t cry.” Akira whispered. “Whatever at least they cuddled together like a nice married couple.” Rini whispered back and Akira nodded. “I hope mommy and daddy get back together.” Akira said. “They will, our plan is perfect.” Rini whispered mischievously and Akira smiled.
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TAGLIST IS CLOSED
🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime69 @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar
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faunusrights · 3 years
Text
yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic
wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,
=
"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.
"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."
"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"
It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."
"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.
"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."
Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"
"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."
"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."
"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"
May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."
Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"
In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."
"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.
"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."
The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.
"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.
"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."
"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.
As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."
That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."
May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"
"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."
She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."
Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.
"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.
"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"
Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."
Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.
"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.
But she's okay with calling this place home, too.
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ramp-it-up · 3 years
Text
Sundancer
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Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: Minors DNI, Some pictures, Angst, Pining, drinking, explicit language, oral sex (female/male receiving), love fluff. All errors my own.
A/N: This an ask from @honeysucklechocolatedrippin​ from the 100 smut prompts ask list. I got caught up with this one because I went back to the Show Runner AU.  I kinda love these two.  Hope you enjoy. Read Show Runner.
-------
This press tour was going to be all work. No play. 
Those were the strict rules that you were given.
This was the premiere film and television festival and January in Park City could be a fun, wild place and time, but you were on the clock. 
There would be no open flirting, touching, or even covert fucking while the cast was there. 
You listened to the lecture and smiled and nodded when appropriate.
Truth be told, you really weren’t paying attention, just waiting on your knees, naked and wet, to suck the shit out of his dick. 
When he gave you permission to of course.
You were determined to suck all those stupid ideas out of his brain along with all his cum when he gave you the chance. 
And Rafael was, indeed, without much coherent thought when you were done.
_____
Wednesday 
That conversation was of no consequence to you four days later when you landed in Park City. 
Daveed and Rafa had been there for two days and the rest of the cast was trickling in. 
You gathered your bag while answering a few questions from the paps and headed to your hotel alone, following the driver who held your name up outside baggage claim to a luxury suv.
You texted Rafael that you had landed, to which he just replied, “Good.”
No, ‘how was your flight,’ nothing. 
You sighed, assuming he was busy. 
He had been texting you nonstop for the past three days and now he wanted to play you. 
That was cool.
You relaxed as you took in the snowy scenery of snowy Park City. 
You were taken to a stunning tiny little chalet at the edge of the city and halfway up the mountain. 
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The views were spectacular, the cute cozy kitchen fully stocked, and the fireplace was bomb.
As you took in all the antler decor, you texted Rafa again, hyped at the accommodations.
This is dope!
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You made sure your cleavage was right in your v-neck sweater and took a selfie of you from above in the bedroom. 
I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.
You saw the thought bubbles, but no response.
Cool cool cool. 
If that’s what he wanted. That’s what he would get. Ice.
You shook your head and looked in the refrigerator for water. You also found your favorite snacks. 
Production thought of everything. You’d thank Gwen later.
You relaxed on the couch until it was time to get ready for the mixer. 
The car was ready to go at 6:45, in time to get you fashionably late to the Television mixer at the Waldorf Astoria at 7.
Because of all the traffic, you didn’t arrive until 7:30, but you were chilling. You spotted your crew immediately, partly because they were the loudest. 
You loved this new family you made.
“Ayyyy! What’s cracking! We thought you’d never make it. Late flight? You want a drink?”
You laughed at Daveed, seeing that he was on his way to getting lit.
“I’ll have what you’re having.” 
He raised his cute ass eyebrow at you. “This grown folks shit. You sure?”
“Yes. I’m grown. I need to catch up to you! I misjudged the time to leave my chalet. What time did you all leave yours?”
“Ummmm. I walked downstairs like 20 minutes ago. The whole cast is staying here. You’re the only one staying on the other side of town.”
“Oh.” 
You didn’t know what to say as Daveed turned to go get your drink.
You looked around and saw a lot of actors you’d love to work with, some you already had, and some you knew to stay away from.
You spotted Rafa’s golden hair on the other side of the room. 
You weren’t going to go after him, and you didn’t need to, because some of your cast mates enveloped you and Daveed brought you a drink.
You were having too good a time to worry about Mr. Artistic Integrity.
You two circled the room, never really ending up in the same place. You finally saw him with Gwen and got a chance to talk. Rafa saw you approach. He nodded.
“Hey, Long time no see. You make it in ok ?”
You looked at Rafael for an extra beat. He’d seen you up close and personal three days ago when you’d ridden his face. 
But you were an actor. You could play this game.
“Hey Casal. Yeah, I got a few hours ago.” 
You turned to the logistics producer. 
“Gwen! My chalet is so dope!”
She raised her eyebrow at you. 
“That’s great! So, you wanted peace and quiet and away from the rest of us, ay?” Gwen laughed as you and Rafa smiled politely. You were seething. 
“Trying to avoid all the parties. I get it now, although I thought it was weird that you declined accommodations.”
“You know our girl, always a loner.”
Rafael took a sip of his drink, looking at you over it. Your blood boiled but you turned and smiled at Gwen.
“Yeah. On my INFJ shit. What’s the lineup for tomorrow?”  
You made small talk to avoid cussing Rafael the fuck out. He stood there for a minute, listening and being an adorable muthafukin asshole. 
Other people came up and you didn’t even notice Rafa step away. But you spotted him, in a corner with that little twat Ava with the tight little body. Just his type.
He saw you stalking out of the mixer as he chatted her up.
—-
Two hours later, you were cozy in the hot tub, smoking some kush to relax, scrolling your phone. 
A TMZ post from your explore page caught your eye. 
There was a picture of Daveed, next to Rafa and Ava, who looked pretty close and fucking beautiful together. 
The gossip site gushed over the picture of the Bay Boys, noting the ‘adorable couple’ and their mingling at the mixer and somehow sneaking in a not so subtle hint that they were staying at the same hotel.
That was the final straw. You saw it all. Rafa wanted you far away from him while he fucked this little miniature Bratz doll. Bet.
It was only midnight. You were going to get your own plastic action figure for the night.
——
Thursday 
The next morning, you met up with the crew at the suite which was set up for the series press day. 
You went straight to Chelsea who was set up in the bedroom of the suite.
You gave her a hug and took off your sunglasses. Your eyes were puffy.
“Damn girl. You did have fun last night. I got just the thing for those circles.”
You breathed a sigh of relief and let her work her magic.
You emerged ten minutes later and went and got something to eat and a bottle of water from the catering station set up in the kitchen. You watched D and Rafa charm the interviewer. 
You took a deep breath. You could do this.
Ten minutes after that, you find yourself sitting in a chair with the cast lined up, somehow seated next to Rafael.
As the first interviewer was setting up, you got comfortable in your chair. Being a professional.
“I see you had fun last night.”
You looked over at Rafael as if surprised to see him there.
“I’m sorry?”
He smirked at you.
“I said it looks like you had fun with Michael last night.”
He held up his phone and you squinted at a post of you and your new friend, a highly sought after actor who had been in one of Rafa’s favorite movies. 
The pic was from after you went back out to the club last night. You were hugged up close.
You looked in his eyes and saw that he felt some kinda way. He had some fucking nerve.
You smirked. 
“Yeah. He’s really truly a dope person. Not just beauty, but brains too. I love an intelligent man. We… talked all night.” 
Rafa’s smile slipped. You sat back and put on a megawatt smile for the reporter.
The entire day was filled with your secret shots and animosity toward Rafa. 
You couldn’t wait to talk to him in private and tell him not to call your cell phone ever again.
Reporter: “This show has many complex relationships, and you are at the center of two of them that are just developing as the series begins. What do you do to ease into a new relationship?”
You leaned back and crossed your legs.
“That is a great question. Let’s just take an example of, say, meeting someone at... a club?”
Daveed leaned in front of Rafa and said, “This is not a true story from last night by the way.”
“Of course not,” you quickly replied and winked. Everyone laughed, everyone but Rafa.
“What I’ve found recently that works wonders is: ‘Oh my god you’re so much better than the last person I was with.’”
Everyone was dying laughing.
Rafa choked on his water. You leaned over and patted him on the back. “You good?”
He just glared at you. You shrugged and kept it moving.
“No, but really. You should start off in a relationship where you can be open and honest. There’s really no relationship if you can’t have that.”
Rafael cleared his throat, but you refused to look at him.
The press day continued.
After eight hours of interviews, you were ready to get out of there, so while Rafa and D were playing host, you managed to get out and to the car. 
You were exhausted of the tension.
On your way to the chalet, Rafa texted you.
‘We need to talk.’
You huffed. Now he wanted to talk. 
Well, tough shit. 
You blocked his number. 
You couldn’t function like this right now. You and him could break it off next week in LA. He was right, you were on the clock.
That night at the Midnight showing, you sat with Michael. 
Might as well try to have some fun. The paparazzi were snapping lots of pictures with you two.
While Mike took a quick interview, you made your way to the bar alone.
“You’ve not answered any of my texts. Or my calls.” 
You rolled your eyes at Rafael.
“You’ve texted and called?” 
You shrugged and took a drink.
“Look. We can do all that back in Cali next week. Gotta keep it professional here, isn’t that the deal?”
You downed your drink and walked back over to Michael, Rafael boring a hole in your back. 
He left you alone after that.
——
Friday
The next day and night were much the same, a cast interview and screening of two episodes during the day and another industry party at night. 
Rafa being so busy made it easy to stay away from each other.
You got back to your place with a bottle of tequila about midnight. 
You were flying out the next day and you should have some fun, even if it was not what you’d envisioned before you arrived in Park City. 
You hated Rafael Casal. 
But you refused to cry. Again.
An hour later, you looked up from your drunken haze to see Rafa standing over you. 
He looked so damn good in this dream.
“You shouldn’t drink a whole bottle of tequila in a hot tub, especially alone.”
“What the fuck do you care? You’re probably fucking Ava ten ways from Sunday right now.”
Dream Rafa raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head.
“Why would I want to fuck Ava?”
“Right? Especially when you could have all this.”
You stood up, almost falling and showing off your wet, naked body.  You giggled as he appreciated you, his eyes sweeping down your body.
Dream Rafa moved closer to you and grabbed your hand as you wobbled. 
“Let’s get out and get you some water.”
He helped you out and wrapped you in one of the huge white fluffy robes that you’d found in the closet.
He led you to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
You drank, your head clearing, but just a bit.
You kept staring at Dream Rafa, who was regarding you steadily, a weird look on his face.
When you finished, he walked you to the bedroom and watched as you lay down. You looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 1:30 am.
You opened your robe and turned to see Dream Rafa in bed with you.
“How convenient. I’m so so horny Dream Boy. Haven’t had any dick since last week.” 
You untied the robe and grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples, arching your back.
Rafael watched you hungrily.  
“Help me to get off. Fuck me, Dream lover. The real Rafa doesn’t want me anymore…”
You moved your hand down to your core and started playing in it, moaning and watching Rafa watch you.
As he licked his lips, you brought your hand up and let him taste the wetness on your fingers. He hummed, then took your hand in his.
“Not like this. I want you. Fully present and clear headed. But I want you. And we need to talk.”
He kissed the palm of your hand and covered you with the robe again.
You groaned and turned away from him.
“Even the Rafael of my dreams reject me? I can’t believe I’m in love with such a jackass.”
You didn’t feel Rafa pull you close as you started shoring.
Saturday
You woke up alone, mad at the sunlight. Your head was pounding. 
Your mouth was parched, but you found a bottle of water on the bedside table. 
You grabbed it, grateful that you got it on the way to the bedroom last night. 
As you sat up and drank, you groaned as you thought back to your dream. 
You had to get him out of your system.
You got up and went to the kitchen, halfway expecting to see him there. 
You sighed with something that must have been relief when he wasn’t there. 
You took your water and some grapes to the little kitchen bar and sat there, eating and drinking slowly with your head in your hand.
You jumped when you heard a key in the front door and stared when Rafa let himself in. 
“Look who’s up. Bet you’ve got a doozy of a headache.” 
You just continued to gape as he put his bags down on the counter. He handed you a bottle of aspirin.
“You’ll need these.” He put some pedialyte in front of you. “And this.”
“Wait. Did you just let yourself in? With a key?”
“Yeah. This is my chalet. I own it.”
Your mouth dropped open. 
“I thought you had a hotel room.”
“I do. This is business so production put the cast up there. D and I decided to join.”
Your heart clenched at the fact he did not want you there too. What was this reality? Then you thought about the dream.
“Wait. Were you really here last night?” 
You were confusion.
Rafa smiled at you. 
“You want something to eat? Gotta get something in your stomach besides tequila and grapes.” 
You groaned and held your head at the realization that last night was not a dream.
“Fuck. Did I say all that? Did I do all that? Out loud?” 
You peeked at him through your fingers.
That smile. “Yeah.” 
You were mad. He looked to fucking happy. 
“Well, don’t take it personal. I was zooted. When I’m sober, I hate you Rafael.”
He frowned. “Are you sober now?”
You opened the bottle of aspirin and drank some pedialyte. 
“Unfortunately, yes. Very sober.”
Rafa moved next to you.
“I’m going to come closer so I don’t have to yell.”
He tipped your chin up with two fingers.
“I can’t believe I’m in love with a fucking brat.”
You were ready to fight.
“I’m a brat? I’m a BRAT?” 
You leaned back, your hands on the counter behind you to get some space from the electricity bouncing between you.
“You ignore me as soon as I land in the same city as you, and then you put me out here in this secret hideaway so you can fuck with that Ava chick.” 
You closed your eyes because you’d be damned if you cried right now. 
“I thought we agreed that we’d talk to each other before we tired of each other and got with other people?”
Rafa leaned close to you, caging you in with his arms on the counter beside yours. 
You could barely breathe, the emotions were getting the better of you. You just wanted to kiss him.
“Who told you that I fucked Ava?” 
This time you raised your chin on your own.
“No one had to tell me. I saw the pictures of you two together. I can read, Rafa.”
“Not very well in this situation, I’m afraid.”
Rafa shook his head and looked down. Then looked back up at you with those damn eyes.
“You also don’t listen. Did you even hear what I said? I just said I love you.”
You just stared at him.
“Wait… what?”
Rafa brought his hips closer to yours, standing up tall. You wanted them on you.
“I love you, you fucking brat. Why would I want Ava when the woman I love has all this.”
And he reached for you, opening the tie on your robe. He sighed as he moved his hands on your brown skin. He was home.
“I want you to listen. Listen before you jump ahead and try to argue.”
You were about to say something and clamped your mouth shut at his warning glance.
“I told you, this was work. And we agreed not to go public with our relationship yet.”  
He saw you wanting to protest.
“We agreed.” 
His hands spread against your stomach, thumbs on your warm nipples.
“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was controlling myself. I wanted to meet you at the airport, but the paps are swarming.”
Rafael's blue eyes were now dark.
“And I didn’t stash you away because I wanted to fuck Ava, but because this is my home and I wanted you in it.” 
Rafa finally kissed you, and you took his tongue in your mouth, wanting to own a part of him.  Your moan while you kissed was getting him even harder.
“And when you sent me that picture of you in the bedroom, I wanted to run over here and take you in every room,  but I couldn’t. Still working. Just had to jack off when I could. To that picture.”
You moaned as his words made you drip down your thigh.
He pressed his pelvis to you and you could feel how hard he was. You took a ragged breath and forced your hands to remain on the counter. 
But you looked up into those burning blue eyes. You were wet and ready.
“It was killing me knowing that you were so close, sleeping in my bed without me, naked in my hot tub without me, and that I couldn’t touch you, hold you. Fuck the shit out of you. Hear you scream my name.”
“Tire of you? God, I wish I could get tired of you. I want you all the time, I can hardly function when you’re not around.”
He kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. You were definitely weak.
“I was coming over that first night, but I saw you going out. To the club. Where it seems you hooked up with Mike.” 
Rafa bit down on your pulse point.
“Rafa, I…”
Rafa licked the spot he just bit. 
“Shhh. I know you didn’t get with him, but you were a bit of a bitch at the Q and A day. And then you took him to the midnight screening.”
Rafa was appraising your body possessively now.
“You tried to make me think that you were with him; that he was touching you like this.”
Rafa grabbed your breasts and squeezed your nipples between your fingers. You arched into his hands.
“It was like you were teasing me.” 
His hands moved down your torso and around to your ass, squeezing and pulling your cheeks apart and ghosting your intimate parts with his fingers.
“You know I don’t like to be teased.”
He released you and took two steps back, leaving you feeling bereft.
You were panting in the middle of his kitchen. You felt what it was like to be teased.
“Rafa, I’m sorry. Please…”
Rafa was two steps ahead of you. He was pulling his Oaklandish hoodie over his head. Then he shook his head at you.
He bent his head to your breast as he lifted it roughly to meet his lips. He drew your hard bud between his lips and grazed it with his teeth. 
Rafa nipped and sucked your flesh roughly as he licked the fingers in his other hand and reached between your legs.
“Did you want Mike to touch your cunt like this?”
“No...only you Cash…”
He traced his fingers between your wet lips, causing you to shudder and moan. Then he started to tease your clit.
“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you love me.”
“I..I…” You didn’t know when it happened, but it did. “Fuck it. I love you Rafael.” 
You sigh in relief and with desire as he pushed his fingers deeper into you.
He moaned softly in your ear as he pressed you back against the island.
“Good girl. Now tell me more. Tell me you love what I’m doing to you right now. Tell me you love this shit.”
“I love it so fucking much,” you squeaked, holding on to his shoulders for dear life, your nails digging in.
As he pumped his fingers, you wriggled and started to grind against his hand. As you wriggled more, he cursed under his breath.
“Fuck! Stay still.”  
His tongue licked up and down your neck as his hand went faster and faster, playing you like an instrument.
You were getting so close, and Rafa could feel it. So he stopped and stepped back again, panting while he tasted his fingers and leaving you quivering and emotional.
You refused to beg, but he knew what you needed.
“I want to punish you for not listening to me and your heart, but I can't because I’d be punishing myself.”
He walked toward you again, put his hands on you and slid down your body as he knelt before you.
Rafa looking up at you like that made you fall in love all over again. 
He leaned forward and kissed your lower lips oh so tenderly. Then, he licked them, and you had to hold on to the counter again. Then he started talking.
“I’ve been hard for you ever since you texted me that you touched down.” 
He kissed each of your thighs and lifted one up and rested it on his shoulder. You were not ready.
“I was so pissed off all day. Until I saw you that night.”
Rafa lightly licked a long stripe between your legs.
He pulled back and looked at your pussy, as if entranced.
“But, I stayed away from you at the mixer because I knew I would drag you to a bathroom and bend you over the sink…”
Rafa slowly rolled his tongue over your slit. You held your hand over your mouth as you watched him.
He looked up at you and chuckled. 
“No close neighbors. Let me hear you.” 
He sighed as he looked at you again. 
“I wanted to take you in the bedroom at the suite during the press day and put your ankles around your ears to dig out that attitude.”  
Rafa licked you again, making you tremble and moan loudly.
“I decided to come and give you an ultimatum last night, but I get here and you were so cute and drunk and said that you loved me.”  
He graced you with a smile. You smile back and brush his hair out of his eyes.
“I know you said that I don’t own you. But you own me. Body and soul. I’m starving for you.”
And then he dove in, making you gasp as he eagerly parted your lips with his tongue and started to flick it back and forth over your clit, grasping your ass and your leg to support you and keep you in place.
This time he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and swiped, his head moving back and forth as he ate. He did it until your eyes rolled back into your head and you were screaming his name. He increased his pace and intensity until you were a quivering, moaning mess. 
You come on Rafa’s face in the middle of a ski chalet in Park City, Utah.
You were still quivering as you watched him stand up, take off his shirt and wipe his face with it.
“So, you can take your flight back to LA in a couple of hours, or you can stay until Monday and we can be seen together tonight. In public.”
Your face lit up as he led you to the bathroom. You were catching on.
“And we will be ‘good friends’ for a few weeks until we let on.”
“Now, you’re listening.” Rafa was smiling wide now.
“Wait, does Diggs know about us?” Rafa started taking off his pants. You needed what was inside.
“Nevermind. I know the answer, Jackass.”  
You ignored Rafa’s laugh as you began to make up for lost time.
-------
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4stars-uswnt · 4 years
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Through Sickness and Health [USWNT x Reader]
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requested by anon: Could you write something with baby reader getting sick/hurt and the rest of the team taking care of them, preferably with Christen & Tobin being the “team moms” to them.
A/N: yay for t & c scoring today!!!
You stare at the plate of breakfast in front of you, massaging your temples, as if you could somehow rub the pounding headache away.
“Woah, (Y/N), you don’t look too good.” Emily observes, pausing mid bite of her eggs.
“Wow, thanks, Em.” You roll your eyes sarcastically.
“No, she’s right, (Y/N).” Mal rubs your back, examining you closely. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah, guys, I’m fine. It’s just a little headache, probably because I din’t sleep that well.” You mumble, leaning your hooded head onto Mal’s shoulder.
“Alright well, drink up, we gotta go to the field.” Mal pushes your glass of water in front of you.  
You gulp down the water, slamming the cup on the table, as you get up and follow your teammates onto the bus.
—————
It was almost the end of practice, and you felt like you were either going to throw up or collapse, or both. Your head was pounding, your throat was dry, and your stomach was doing somersaults.
As soon as Vlatko blew the whistle, you rest your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath, exorbitant amounts of sweat dripping off of you.
“Kiddo, you okay?” Tobin comes up from behind you, resting her hand on your back.
You huff out a sigh and stand up right. “Yeah, I’m good.” You nod, sighing.
“Alright,” The older forward hums, squinting her eyes skeptically, “let’s get you on the bus.”
She wraps her arm around your shoulders, guiding you off the field. As you’re walking, your legs wobble like jelly, and you can feel them start to weaken.
“Tobes… I don’t feel so good.” You softly groan, before you completely faint, collapsing in Tobin’s arms.
“(Y/N)!” Tobin exclaims, gently laying you down on the grass. “(Y/N)? You with me?”
“Tobin!” Christen calls, frantically running up to the two of you, followed by the rest of the USWNT. “What happened?”
“I don’t know! She just fainted.”
Christen kneels down next to you and feels your forehead with the back of her hand. “She’s burning up.”
“She wasn’t looking too good this morning at breakfast.” Mal interjects, frowning worriedly.
“Yeah, she’d said she had a little headache.” Emily adds.
“Well why didn’t anybody say anything?!” Christen snaps at the younger defender, who just shrinks. An angry Christen Press was definitely a sight to fear.
When you first joined the national team a couple of years ago, at the age of 18, Christen and Tobin immediately took you under their wings, crowning themselves your official team moms. The two helped you both on and off the pitch, whether it be watching game film with you or discussing your decision to play professional. They were also particularly protective of you, especially Christen, who was also your Royals teammate.
“Chris, they didn’t know.” Tobin calms down the upset woman, reminding her the task at hand.
“Right.” Christen sighs, nodding her head.
Vlatko approaches the group, followed by the medical staff. “Guys, give (Y/N) some space.”
The women back up, making some room for the trainers and the stretcher, while Tobin and Christen stay close to you.
As they load you onto the stretcher, Tobin furrows her brows. “Where are you taking her?”
“We’re just gonna take her into the med room back in the locker room to check up on her. I don’t think it’s anything too too serious, but we want her to wake up before we make any diagnosis and take her back to the hotel.” One of the trainers explains.
“Can we come with you?” Christen asks, nervously biting her lip.
“If you’d like.” He nods, and the two forwards follow the medical staff.
Back in the med room, the trainers put you onto the bed and get a cool towel to put on your head. While you were not awake yet, they had a feeling it was a case of the stomach flu, so they got a cup of water and thermometer ready for you.
About five minutes later, you slowly opened your eyes and grumbled. “Whaaa…what happened?” You groggily rubbed your eyes, as you try to sit up.
“Woah, sweetie, how about you lie back down.” Christen gently pushes you back down to the med table. “You fainted, (Y/N). They say it’s the stomach flu.”
“Ugh… just great.” You mumbled under your breath, groaning in frustration and discomfort.
The head trainer, who’d noticed you were awake, reentered the room. “Hey, (Y/N), how are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a bus.” You mutter.
He picks up the thermometer and hands you a cup of water, which you sip, soothing your dry throat.
“I’m just gonna quickly take your temperature.” He motions for you to open your mouth.
A couple of moments pass before a beep sounds. “102.4” The trainer reads, before turning to Christen and Tobin. “Make sure she gets plenty of rest and drinks lots of water. I recommend taking her temperature every two hours or so, and when her fever breaks, then come talk to me.”
“You know I’m right here? I can take care of myself.” You protest.
Tom and Christen share a look, exchanging a silent conversation.
“Sounds good, Tom. Thank you.” The curly-haired forward smiles, and the trainer nods, making his exit.
Once the three of you are alone, Tobin starts, “(Y/N),” she brushes your hair out of your face, “Em and Mal said that you weren’t feeling too well earlier this morning. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think it was that bad, and I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it or worry you guys.” You shrug, avoiding eye contact with both women. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey.” Christen reassures. “We were just extremely worried when you fainted, especially since we didn’t know what was wrong.”
“Yeah, we care about you, kid.” Tobin coos.
“I love you, guys.” You mumble tiredly.
“We love you too, (Y/N/N).” Christen softly smile, reaching for your hand. “Now, c’mon, let’s get you back to the hotel, so you can rest.”
“Can one of you carry me?” You plead, giving them your best puppy eyes.
Tobin rolls her eyes at your childish behavior. “Sure, kiddo, hop on.” She squats down, so you can climb onto her back. The three of you make your way to one of the team vans, the bus having already left, and you head back to the hotel.
—————
As you’d fallen asleep on the ride over, Tobin carries you up to your room, takes your shoes off, and tucks you into bed.
After about an hour and a half of sleeping, you wake up, feeling a little better, but still quite uncomfortable.
“Hey, how you feeling?” Christen puts her book down, noticing you’re up.
“Eh, a little better.”
“Here, let me take your temperature.” She reaches for the thermometer and approaches you. “100.6. Not as bad, but not good. You’re still burning up.” She feels your forehead. “How about I draw you a warm bath? It might help cool you down, and you still stink from training.”
You stick out your tongue at her. “Chrissss, I don’t wanna move.” You whine.
“C’mon, you big baby. I’ll get it started.” She heads into the bathroom and starts the water, ignoring your grumbling and protests.
You throw the blanket off your body and begrudgingly enter the bathroom, where Christen’s sitting on the edge of the bath full of warm water and bubbles.
“Here, I’ll turn around, so you can get in.” The older woman stands up and turns to face the door.
You strip off your clothes and toss them to the side before sinking into the bath.
“You can turn around now.” You announce to Christen, as you close your eyes, relaxing in the warm water.
“Feel good?” She asks, returning to sit on the edge of the bath.
“Mhmm.” You hum, before opening your eyes. “Where’s Tobin?”
“She went to get you some snacks, medicine, and some more water.” Christen answers, as she reaches for the shampoo. “Wet your hair for me?”
You lean back, letting your hair fall in the water while keeping your face drying. You sit back up, and Christen begins to wash your hair. As she massages your scalp, you feel your eyes droop. You hear the door open and close, and Tobin peeks her head in the door.
“Hey, (Y/N/N), you’re up? You good?”
“Mhmm.” You blissfully hum.
“I see the bath is helping.” Tobin smirks, winking at Christen. “Well, I got you some snacks and meds.” She holds up a bag.
Your eyes fly open at the mention of food. “Oooo, what kind?!” You sit up so fast that water and bubbles splash onto the brunette forward.
Christen glares at you, and you shrink back into the water. “Wash.” She points.
You dunk your entire head in the water, squeezing your eyes shut, and you scrub the soap out of your hair. Emerging from the water, you wipe the water from your face and see Tobin has joined Christen, sitting on the edge of the tub.
“So what kinda snacks did you get?” You eagerly ask.
Tobin chuckles and leans down, reaching into the bag. “I got some cheddar popcorn, Oreos, pita chips, and some banana and peanut butter.”
You grin at the thought of all your favorite snacks. But before you could reach out for one, Christen cuts in.
“Wait, (Y/N/N), you sure you up to eating something? Is your stomach feeling better? I don’t want you to throw up again.” She gives you a worried glance. You wince, as you remember the throw up incidences in the car as well as when you arrived to the hotel.
“My stomach is feeling a little better.” You assure the older woman, who’s still looking at you wearily. “How about I start with a banana?” You propose, trying to rest Christen’s qualms.
“Okay.” She nods, giving in, and Tobin breaks off a banana from the bunch, peeling it and handing it to you.
“Thanks, Tobes.” You grab it and take a bite.
After you finish half the banana, your stomach not wanting any more, and after your bath, you find yourself back in bed, sandwiched between the two forwards.
The three of you start to make some light conversation, when there’s a knock on the door.
Tobin slides off the bed and opens the door, and the rest of your teammates flood into your hotel room, climbing either on your bed or the bed across from you.
Mal, who took Tobin’s spot next to you, much to her displeasure, cuddled into your side. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Mhm.” You nod, snuggling into her body.
“Good. I was really worried.” She mumbles into your shoulder.
Your heart swells, and you grin. “Don’t worry. I’m good.”
“(Y/N), open up.” Christen interrupts, holding out the thermometer. “98.7” She reads, smiling.
“Thank goodness!” Kelley calls from the table, as she puts an Oreo in her mouth and plops at the foot of your bed. “We thought you died.” She exaggerates.
“Shut up, Kel.” You roll your eyes. “And stop eating my snacks.” You kick up your foot, trying to nudge the defender.
“No, but in all seriousness, (Y/N), we’re all really glad you’re okay.” Megan insists.
“Yeah, when you collapsed, we kinda all freaked out.” Julie adds, several of the other women nodding along.
“I think the scariest part was that we didn’t know what was wrong.” Alex says, and Christen hums in agreement.
“We want you to know that you can come to us with anything because we’re always here for you.” She softly grins down at you.
“Thanks you guys. It really does mean a lot. I’ve never really had people like you guys in my life.” You confess, smiling at your team.
“Well, you better get use to it because we’re not going anywhere!” Ashlyn exclaims, as she jumps on the bed, encouraging the other women to dog pile on you as well.
You look around you and can’t help but feel warmth spread throughout your body, and this time not from your fever but from love. You were extremely grateful that you had this team of women, especially Tobin and Christen, in your life, who’d be there for you through sickness and health.
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You Gotta Fend for Yourself
Read here on AO3!
Summary:
Bruce is Tim's emergency contact. He gets a call to meet Tim at the ER.
“I’m looking for a patient.” The woman behind the ER desk looks bored as she eyes Bruce, takes in the pressed suit and diamond cufflinks. The way he fidgets, drumming his fingers on the desk and trying very hard not to look as anxious as he feels. It’s easier to reign in his worry when he’s wearing the cowl. “Name?” “Tim Drake.” “Give me a minute.” She types his name into the computer, and Bruce can’t help but wonder how she manages to type with such long fingernails. “Your son is in bed eight. It’s over there, against the far wall.” She points him in the general direction. Bruce considers correcting her on the fact that Tim is certainly not his son, but he doesn’t need to tell this complete stranger that. Let her think what she wants. He thanks her and goes where directed. His chest loosens when he finds Tim sitting on a medical cot, neither bleeding out from a gaping wound nor missing any limbs. Instead he’s playing some sort of racing game on his phone, indifferent to the bustling emergency room around him. An oxygen mask sits beside him, forgotten. He and Bruce should really have a conversation about the importance of listening to medical professionals. “Hey, kiddo.”
Tim looks up and his eyes go wide. “Bruce. You...actually came?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been gargling sand. “Of course I did. I am your emergency contact, after all.” Tim blushes. “I told them not to call you. You really don’t need to be here if you’re busy, I can get a cab home. And I’m sure I can talk the doctors into letting me check myself out without an adult, so—” “It’s okay, Tim. Really. You actually saved me from a board meeting.” Tim doesn’t look at all reassured. Bruce sits on the side of the cot beside Tim, who moves over a few inches. “Your teacher told me you went into anaphylactic shock in the middle of geometry.” Tim rolls his eyes. “I got a candy bar from the vending machine and the wrapper forgot to mention there were walnuts in it. It’s not that big a deal.” “Oh, sure, not that big a deal. You just stopped breathing for two minutes. Totally normal.” “I’m breathing now, aren’t I?” Tim takes an exaggerated breath. “See? I’m fine. And, for the record, it was the teacher’s fault. I had my hand raised for a whole minute trying to tell her that I couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even look at me. Eventually I just passed out.” Bruce blinks. “You raised your hand? While your life was in danger?” “I didn’t want to be rude.” Lord, beer me patience. “I’ll get you an EpiPen to carry with you from now on.” “I usually have one, but I used it up a couple months ago and kept forgetting to ask my dad for another one.” A shrug. “Don’t you keep one in your utility belt?” “That’s for civilians.” Bruce’s eyebrows crease. “It’s for keeping people safe, not just civilians. You’re a person, so I want you to use whatever you need to keep yourself from dying in the middle of class. Got it?” Tim nods, a little sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” “Good. Now, how are you feeling?” Tim flicks the IV tube. “Cortisone and a shot of epinephrine earlier. I’ll be fine.” Even so, Bruce can’t stop himself from checking Tim over anyway, just to be sure. He needs to see that Tim is okay with his own eyes. He feels Tim’s throat for any residual swelling, checks his pulse. “Can you breathe okay?” “Yep.” “What about your mouth, does it feel numb or tingly? Any swelling?” “No and no.” “Are you dizzy at all, nauseous?” “You do realize we’re in a hospital, right? Surrounded by actual doctors?” “Yes, and I don’t trust a single one of them unless their name is Leslie Thompkins, Alfred Pennyworth, or Bruce Wayne.” “You’re insane.” “Good. Maybe then you’ll stay alive long enough to see the new year.” Bruce takes out his cell phone and drafts the beginning of an email in his notes app. “I should call the school and give them hell for not looking after you. Or at least for not being more aware of their vending machine snacks.” He knew Tim never should have been allowed in a public school. That’s like locking the most perfect, innocent kitten in the world in a cage with rabid coyotes. Completely irresponsible. “You’re overreacting, B.” “You could have died.” Tim scoffs. “Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t even the worst allergic reaction I’ve had. My parents were terrible at remembering to tell the nannies about my walnut energy, so there were a lot of close calls.” Bruce should be more surprised at that information. After he sues the school for the wrongful almost-death of a student, he should sue Drake Industries just for the hell of it. “Where are your parents? Are they on their way?” Jack Drake is as disagreeable a man as disagreeable men get, but he’s always revving for conflict. Bruce will definitely be able to sway him to his side of this matter. They can bring it up to the board of education, draw up new regulations for the school’s allergy protocols. Tim scratches absently at the rash on his neck. Bruce swats his hand away. “Dad brought Dana on a business trip to Philadelphia. It was only supposed to last the weekend, but they decided to stay a few extra days.” “A few?” “Eleven, to be exact.” Yikes. Big yikes. “You at least called them, right? They’ll want to know you’re safe.” “I called Dad when I first got here, but he didn’t pick up so I left him a message. I’m pretty sure he got it, because Dana keeps texting me to make sure I’m okay and asking if they should come home early. Dad still hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure he’s worried too.” Even as Tim says the words, it’s clear he doesn’t believe them. Never mind, fuck Jack Drake. Bruce can find another parent to start an alliance with—one who actually cares about their kid. Maybe Crystal Brown is free tonight… Bruce flags down a passing nurse. “Can I get some discharge papers for my son, here?” Might as well throw that in, give himself some extra authority. Whatever gets them out of here quicker. “Thank god,” Tim says. He plucks out the IV and swings his legs off the bed. “I’m sick of this place. You can just drop me off at home and I’ll be all set?” “Drop you off? You’re coming home with me, Tim.” Was that part not clear? “It’s cool, really. I’ll be fine after some rest. You don’t have to look after me.” “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Bruce thanks the nurse who brings over the discharge papers in record time. People really don’t appreciate nurses enough; he should donate a few million to boost their salaries. He pushes the clipboard into Tim’s hands. “Here, fill these out and we can get going. I’ll call ahead and have Alfred make supper.” “And then I can go home?” Bruce shrugs, eyes fixed on his phone screen as his thumbs fly. “You already have a room made up at the manor, so I don’t see why you can’t stay over tonight. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on you, just in case.” Anaphylaxis can be a tricky thing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mother hen?” “Once or twice.” “Well, they’re right.” Bruce snorts. He works more on his email draft to the school, making a mental note to censor out the swear words during revision. He’s getting flashbacks to years ago when Jason had a close call with some shrimp at a party for a museum opening. Bruce nearly decimated the catering company for not putting out warnings for potential allergens. “Tim?” “Hm?” “How come I’m your emergency contact?” Tim freezes. He doesn’t look at Bruce and twiddles the pen, quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know who else to put? I figured it would never actually be needed, so it wasn’t like you’d ever find out about it anyway. But don’t worry, I’ll change it tomorrow so you don’t need to do this again.” “No,” Bruce says, a little too quickly. “Keep it. It’s...more logical for it to be me. And I really don’t mind.” “You sure? You don’t have to.” “I want to. Partners look out for each other, right?” Tim’s cheeks are flushed under the allergy-induced redness, but he nods. “Right.”
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novelconcepts · 4 years
Text
fic: something to hang on to
When Jamie buys a camera, she isn’t really thinking about it. They’re driving through Virginia, stopped off at a little gas station; Dani’s outside filling the rental Jeep, which puts Jamie on snack-duty. At the counter, she spots a display of disposable cameras and, almost without thinking, adds one to the pile of sugar and caffeine. It isn’t a plan. Isn’t for any particular reason. 
Dani, pawing through the plastic bag of their spoils, raises it from a mess of M&Ms and Pringles and says, “You like photography?” She asks it the way she asks everything, like every little detail she learns about Jamie is another brand-new color added to the shine of the world. Jamie shrugs. 
“Never was much for it, but this brave new land is pretty enough. Don’t mind keeping track of it for later.”
It’s more than that, she thinks as Dani raises the viewfinder to her eye and clicks a photo of Jamie behind the wheel, one hand steering, the other stretching across the center console to rest on Dani’s knee. I almost lost you once, Poppins. Wouldn’t have had anything but my own memory to remember you by. This...this will help. 
Later, much later, years later, Jamie will look back on that moment as one of her wisest. Later, on a bed she can no longer sleep in, holding a thick album between shaking hands, she’ll think some of the most important choices you ever make are split-second recklessness. A camera, tossed in at the last second. A habit, built on nothing more than needing Dani’s smile immortalized. 
Open the album. Take a breath. Flip the page. 
***
A photo: Dani sprawled on a red-and-white beach towel, chin propped on folded arms, gazing out away from the camera as though she has no idea anyone is watching.
They’re with Henry and the kids--the first time they’ve seen the Wingrave family since the events at the house, and, though they don’t know it, one of the last times they’ll see them all together--in Florida. It’s strange, Jamie reflects, watching Miles chase Flora across an endless strip of sand. Strange how much world can fit into one country. England was green, rolling with hill and fog and haunted by things older than any of them can imagine. Florida feels...young, somehow. Too warm, too bright, too perfect on a Saturday afternoon. 
She’s hugging her knees, seated on a blanket with Dani sitting just an inch further away than she’d like. It’s the safe thing, the smart thing, but she misses her--misses the way they sit in hotel rooms and empty bars, knees touching, pinkies overlapping. Dani, in a sundress that matches the blue of her right eye, is laughing as Miles grabs Flora around the middle and tries with all his ten-year-old strength to hoist her off the ground. 
“Miles,” Henry calls, his voice laden with the anxiety of a man who has only just begun learning how to parent. “Miles, be careful--”
“They’re all right,” Jamie interrupts, tossing a handful of warm sand toward Henry’s precarious perch on a plastic chair. "Have you been wound this tight the whole fucking time?”
He looks pained. “You’ll excuse me for never having raised two children before. They’ve been a bit...”
“Precocious?” Dani suggests brightly. 
“Demonic?” Jamie says at the same time. Henry sighs. 
“Adventurous, shall we say, to meet in the middle.”
“They haven’t been...” Dani’s smiling, the way Jamie has grown accustomed to over the last few months: a beautiful smile that never entirely reaches her eyes. It’s the way she smiles when she thinks she needs to wear a mask of stability, when she needs everyone to think she’s doing all right. 
Henry frowns. “Haven’t been what?”
Dani shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Scared? Having nightmares? I don’t know...”
She’s asking-not-asking about that night, like she told Jamie she wasn’t going to do. They don’t need me bringing it up, she’d said back at the hotel, holding tight to Jamie in a way that said she very much needed to talk about this against her own will. They deserve to just live their lives. 
Henry looks puzzled. “Strange, but no. No nightmares. Flora had a few at the very start, before we left London, but...no. Not since arriving here.”
Dani nods like this is all she wants to hear, and rubs her cheek with one slightly-sunburnt hand, the moment passing into obscurity as Flora shrieks and Miles trips directly into an oncoming wave. It’s all good here, all sunshine and ease of temper, and Jamie watches Henry stand. Brush off shorts that look truly insane set against his pale legs. Go awkward-jogging into the surf to lift a giggling Flora heavenward. 
“They make a fine little family,” she says, pitching her voice so only Dani can hear. Dani nods. There’s a tightness to her mouth that says she’s only half here, only half able to let the sun bake away the shadows. Jamie touches her ankle lightly, wishing they were somewhere less requiring of distance. 
“I’m all right,” Dani says. Not a lie of intent, at least, though Jamie suspects it’s more that she wants to be all right. She watches Dani roll onto her front, eyes on the endless ocean, the children tumbling around in its gentle grasp, the man doing his best to keep up. 
Could watch her forever, Jamie thinks, knowing it’s far too early to say something so catastrophically huge. She’s been having these thoughts more and more, wild notions of turning this brand-new adventure with Dani into a lifetime event. It turns a key somewhere deep within her chest, some far-off engine making a deep rumbling sound that sends her tripping toward a very real, very powerful feeling of terror. 
Her hand slips toward the bag of sunscreen, paperback novels, sliced oranges. A camera, small and yellow and used mainly in moments like this one, emerges. Dani never notices as she brings it to her eye, frames Dani’s blonde ponytail and sun-pink skin, snaps a photo. 
Later, when the pictures are developed and spread out across a hotel bedspread, shots of Miles with an orange-peel grin and Flora standing before a monster of a sandcastle intercut with Dani’s far-off pensive expression, Dani will touch the print. Lingeringly, fingers trembling just the slightest bit.
“Why this one?”
Because I loved you more than words could capture, Jamie will know it’s far too early to say. It’d be reckless. It’d be testing the bounds of something still fragile, still one-day-at-a-time hopeful. 
“Why not?” she’ll say, and tuck the photo safely back into its sleeve. 
***
A photo: Jamie and Dani, backs to the freshly painted Leafling sign, standing carefully apart with shoulders back and a small bouquet of flowers clutched in Dani’s hands.
They keep to themselves, mainly, but some of the nearby shopkeepers have been kind as The Leafling goes from mad late-night concept to brick-and-mortar reality. They bring welcome-to-the-block plants and casseroles that are mostly-edible, and Dani accepts each one with true Midwestern courtesy. Jamie leans back, watches the art of neighborly behavior being painted before her eyes: older women who compliment Dani on her earrings, young men bullied into helping move heavy boxes into storage by their mothers. Dani, in the middle of it all, wearing a soft pastel sweater and a smile that has finally remembered its own strength. 
She wasn’t sure how this would go, if Jamie’s honest about it. She’s been telling Dani not to worry for weeks, telling Dani they don’t need to know much about a business to run this one. I grow, you arrange, we make out like bandits with all the nice Americans who value pretty things. It’ll be perfect, Poppins. She’s been saying it, and she thinks she even believes her own words most of the time, but there have been dreams. Anxiety running its red thread through her sleep, telling her she has no skill in this arena, no education to speak of, no idea how to survive in American business while hiding her relationship with her “business partner”. 
The day the shop finally opens, Jamie has been saying “it’s going to be great” for so long, she almost surprises herself by rushing into the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. Dani, expression warm and just the tiniest bit teasing, leans against the doorframe.
“You all right?”
“Perfect,” Jamie gasps, staggering to the sink and thrusting a toothbrush into her mouth. “Jus’ great.”
“Too late to turn back now,” Dani points out. “What would we do with all the business cards?”
Jamie groans, spitting mint foam and rinsing out her mouth. “You could show just the slightest bit less glee, Poppins. I’ve just run us into a brick wall of imminent failure.”
Dani laughs, coming up behind her to hug her tight around the middle. “We should probably at least unlock the doors for the first time before you decide it’s time to shutter them again.”
She’s good today, Jamie senses--not the fake-good where she tries her best to pretend she isn’t listening for some deep-down movement Jamie can’t register, but truly happy. Her body is relaxed, her hands certain as she tips Jamie’s cheek and kisses her calm. 
“How,” Jamie gasps when they break, “are you not out of your bloody mind right now?”
Dani shrugs. “It’s like the first day of school. Spend all summer planning and worrying, but now it’s happening. Just gotta jump in.”
There are already people waiting when they arrive, to Jamie’s mingled horror and delight. Most of them are their fellow shopkeepers, waiting with the brilliant smiles of people who have already lived this particular nightmare themselves, and just want to pay forward the relief of customers actually turning up. They’re kind, these people--they don’t know Jamie in the least, don’t have the first idea what shadows lurk behind Dani’s eyes, but they take their hands, squeeze, and congratulate them all the same. Jamie thinks they even mean it, most of them. Americans are complicated, boisterous, scandalous people--but they can have such heart. 
One woman, old enough to be Jamie’s grandmother, presses a bouquet of peonies against Dani’s chest. “For luck,” she says croakily, patting Dani’s cheek like she’s known her since Dani was three feet tall. “Dry ‘em, hang ‘em somewhere in the back. Remember we’re all rooting for you.”
“Rooting,” a man who owns a nearby pizzeria hoots. “Good one, Carol!”
Jamie almost rolls her eyes, but Dani is beaming. When the others make flapping get in front of the sign gestures, they can’t help but obey, standing with a perfectly-maintained half-person between their shoulders. She wants so badly to reach over, to take Dani’s hand, to kiss her with all the terror and relief she’d never known she could feel at once. Instead, she smiles as professionally as she knows how for the camera someone produces. It’s enough.
Later, tapping a finger against the print the photographer drops on their counter, Jamie says, “Look like I want to pass out.”
Dani glances toward the window, takes note of the empty street, presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’d have caught you.”
***
A photo: Jamie, sitting just behind Dani on a plush couch, arm wrapped around her waist, cheek pressed to flyaway blonde hair. Dani, grinning her widest, cheesiest grin, leaning back like she knows there is no world in which Jamie would ever let her fall.
There are parties, occasionally--usually thrown by other under-the-radar couples they get along with well enough for drinks, not so much that they truly build relationships. They like the quiet life, the two-person road trips, the easy silence after a long day. But, sometimes, life is grand and big and loud, and on those nights, they venture out into the world.
There are a pair of men maybe five years their senior who have been together for “a decade”, if you ask Mike, “a century”, if it’s Paul telling the tale. They’re good people, and their home is a safe space Jamie doesn’t anticipate finding. 
Friends are hard, she thinks. Always were, but they’re so much harder once you’ve lost a couple.
Still: when Mike and Paul are set to celebrate a round ten years together (”An eternity,” Paul clarifies, leaning against the Leafling counter to invite them over), they go. Dani wants to, and it’s good seeing Dani want things like this. It’s been almost a year together, almost a year of exploring the map and one another, and Dani’s been getting softer around the edges, less prone to jumping at shadows. The Dani Clayton of a year ago wouldn’t want to attend parties, lest the beast inside leap while her guard is lowered; the Dani Clayton of tonight is holding up a dark green dress, brow furrowed. 
“Too much?”
Jamie hums a moment to buy herself time. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you’d like to actually leave the house tonight.” Jamie wiggles her eyebrows, buttoning a black shirt and searching for a good pair of suspenders. Dani laughs. 
“I think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours.”
“You,” Jamie points out, sidling up behind her and kissing her neck, “have always had entirely too much faith in me, Poppins.”
Dani is, however, a woman of her word when it comes to accepting social invitations, and soon they’re sitting on an exceptionally soft couch in an exceptionally loud living room. Jamie glances around, reading the environment, registering the two women holding hands by the coffee table, the men dancing near the kitchen, the way even the male-female pairs seem not to see anything odd. Mike and Paul have been doing this a long time. This is as safe a space as their own home. 
She likes the way Dani relaxes, a little more with every drink tucked into her hand, a little more with a lit cigarette pulled from Jamie’s, a little more still when Mike nudges her and mutters, “Your girl looks good tonight, Clayton.”
She likes, most of all, the way Dani doesn’t flinch away when a Polaroid comes out. These are good people, brave people, smart people. If there are photos taken tonight, they will be pressed straight into the hands of their subjects, gifted away before the chemicals have even processed. 
Dani presses back against her, seated on her lap, laughing at some joke Jamie hasn’t really been paying attention to. She’s too busy watching Dani’s profile, the way her head tips back when she’s really laughing, too hard to care what she looks like. Too busy reveling in how it feels to hold Dani in a setting so much more public than usual, her fingers stroking the soft material of Dani’s dress, her body burning and the most comfortable it’s ever been. 
Later, with the Polaroid on the nightstand, the green dress on the floor, and a sheet tucked up against the fall chill, Dani says, “We should do that more.”
Jamie chuckles against her shoulder, kissing a patch of freckles. “This?”
“Yes.” Dani wriggles a little, giggling. “But also that.” She’s gesturing to the photo, propped between a lamp and copy of some old Shirley Jackson novel. “It was nice, wasn’t it? Not...”
“Hiding,” Jamie supplies. Dani makes a humming noise soft in her throat. 
“I like not hiding you.”
***
A photo: Dani, eyes dark with a smolder only Jamie ever sees, a cigarette between her lips, hair loose around her shoulders. 
Nights spent home with Dani, nights where there are no groceries to pick up, no accounting to be done, no errands waiting to be noticed, are Jamie’s absolute favorite thing in the world. There’s just something about this sense of home they’ve been building together, this sense of locked door and secured window and no one else invited to partake that gets Jamie the way nothing else does. 
Especially Dani. Dani at home is less reserved, less careful. With every month that passes quietly, no sign of anything but her own mind, Dani gets a little less tight. A little less prone to gazing off into the middle distance. A little less likely to disappear from an otherwise-normal conversation, emerging several minutes later like she’s pulling herself out of a dream.
And, some nights, she’s not just here--she’s utterly present, every atom of her tuned to Jamie like they have no need of space between them, no need of separation. These nights, the nights where Dani strides into the room on a mission, are Jamie’s favorite of all. 
“Why,” Dani says, leaning back in a kitchen chair with legs spread and head tilted to exhale smoke toward the ceiling, “are you looking at me like that?”
“Me?” Jamie teases. “You’re the one gazing at me like I’m some terribly interesting new buffet.”
She’s half-joking, but there’s something about the way Dani looks at her on this very particular sort of night, with every line of her body tuned toward Jamie’s, that makes her feel a stupid kind of brave. A reckless kind of excitement unwinds outward, until her fingertips itch to grab at Dani’s hair, her knees weak with the desire to pull Dani close. 
She’s doing it now, smoking that cigarette with all the languid energy of a woman perfectly at home, watching Jamie with a faint smirk playing around her lips. No one else sees that smirk, Jamie understands, and it makes her a little faint every time she thinks it. To have something of Dani, some integral comfortable part of Dani that belongs solely to their apartment, their life together, is still a good fortune Jamie can’t entirely parse out. 
Her hand moves toward the camera, small and plastic and containing some of the best memories of Dani she desperately needs to keep. Dani lets her snap off a shot, shakes her head when Jamie lowers the camera.
“That’s going to be one of yours.”
She says it every time Jamie tries to capture the white-hot energy of this kind of evening. Dani doesn’t like to see herself through this particular lens, gets fidgety and embarrassed at the sight of her own face etched with such a confident hunger. Jamie asked the first time if Dani wanted her to stop taking the photos altogether, and Dani had shaken her head.
“I don’t mind. But they’re yours, okay?”
She sets the camera aside, moving to take the cigarette out of Dani’s hand, taking a long drag and dropping it in an ashtray. The rest doesn’t need anything in the way--no lens, no embarrassment, nothing but the way Dani’s mouth opens beneath hers, hands already roaming. The rest is not Jamie’s, but theirs, a joint ownership of soft moans and soft skin and soft assurances that this is still, always, home. 
Later, with Dani asleep, one hand thrown loosely over Jamie’s hip, Jamie will look at the photos that are hers and hers alone. Dani, mouth wet and swollen from a night spent confined to their bedroom around their anniversary. Dani, grinning and half-asleep, glancing over her shoulder to coax Jamie into putting the camera down, joining her among the blankets. Dani, smoke-haze around her face, wine glass in her hand, looking just past the camera at Jamie’s own desire. 
Dani’s choice to share a life with her, Dani’s decision to share every inch of herself with Jamie, is more than Jamie feels anyone deserves. 
***
A photo: Dani in front of the Eiffel Tower, sunglasses on, arms spread wide.
A photo: Dani kneeling at the Grand Canyon, gesturing bewilderment at the sheer scope of the place.
A photo: Dani standing before the alleged largest ball of twine in the world, looking rather like she regrets letting Jamie pick the destination this time.
They travel until Dani can’t stomach it anymore, can’t take the uncertainty of unknown roads and unmapped hotel beds--but, first, years of travel. Years of postcards and rental cars, of Jamie turning maps upside down and Dani being shockingly savvy in small-town situations. 
These photos, more than any other, feel like they have to be taken for someone else’s idea of posterity, and Jamie feels a little strange, at first. Dani’s already seen much of Europe by the time they meet, and has no photos whatsoever to show for it. Jamie, who started turning up in photos for the first time as an adult, says, “It’ll be good to show ‘em off,” while never quite bringing herself to the edge of an unspoken follow-up question: to whom, exactly? It isn’t as though she and Dani are having children, isn’t as though there will be grandkids tottering around down the line to tune out their stories. Who, exactly, are these mementos for?
Dani is far too kind, far too pragmatic, to put the question to her. Dani only poses, grins, lets Jamie take all the pictures she wants, and then--camera tucked safely away once more--grabs Jamie’s hands and leads her into living it: the food, the outdoor markets, the snowstorms, the sun-kissed hikes. As the years go by, Jamie takes more and more photos, never quite able to explain to herself why it’s so critical. Never quite able to look away when Dani finally covers the lens with one hand and brings her close, kissing her like it’s the first time. 
They stop looking at these photos together, after a while. Stop trying so hard to go back, as the days grow shorter and the exhaustion begins to steal the warmth from Dani’s smile. At first, it’s about moving forward--always one foot in front of the other. At first, every photo taken is set aside as a gift to another life. And then, finally, it’s about the moment they’re in, nothing more. Jamie sets the camera on a shelf. Refuses to look at Dani through any barrier but her own two eyes. Dani doesn’t like the snap-click of the camera anymore, anyway--each time, she flinches, like Jamie is about to show her a glimpse of whatever horror she’s been seeing in the mirror. 
I only see you, Jamie promises, the ache in her chest so great, she’s sure it will swallow them both. But Dani can’t bring herself to look. Can’t bring herself, just in case Jamie is wrong. 
Later--so much later, with eyes stinging and arms empty--she flips through the album and remembers Spain, California, Minnesota, Greece. Later, she finds Dani sticking her tongue out, spinning like a deranged nun out of musical, sitting quietly in a cafe with a small cup of coffee warming her hands. Dani, stiff-shouldered and trying not to laugh as Jamie made faces the one time they ever ventured back to Iowa. Dani, hair blowing back into her face, arms looped around Jamie at a terrifying, exhilarating first Pride parade. 
And, in the back, the photos of Dani as only Jamie knew her. The sly grin a second before pinning Jamie to the couch. The sweet surprise from Jamie coming home early with dinner. Shot after shot of no make-up, or smudged eyeliner, or ruined lipstick, of Dani in pajamas on Christmas, or Dani in bed after a shower, or Dani laughing herself silly at nothing Jamie can remember now. 
They’re all here, and they’re all Dani--all of Dani Jamie’s got left now--and still, they’re wrong. They sit, plastic and unyielding, beneath flimsy protective sheets, and they don’t laugh like Dani, don’t breathe out against her skin like Dani, don’t smell like Dani’s shampoo or swear like Dani tripping over a shoe in the dark or look at her with that solid, palpable love like Dani did and should still and never will again. 
Jamie sits, album in her lap, staring down at Dani with paint smudged on her cheek and their then-new bedroom behind her, and suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. Had she known? Somewhere in the back of her mind that day in a gas station, picking up a little yellow disposable camera, had she known that one day, this would be all she had left of Dani? Surely not. Surely, she hadn’t believed it would go this way, all the way back then. Surely, it was one day at a time, and we’ll have time, and any day with you, Poppins. 
Had she known? No. No, of course she hadn’t.
And yet, the idea of not having these in front of her--the idea of Dani’s face slowly, surely, washing away over time as Jamie fails to find her in a world so uncompromisingly cruel...
She touches a shot of Dani with her left hand covering her mouth, her ring gleaming gold against her smile, the day the state had legalized civil unions. Dani as gold as sunshine, in one of the last truly clean moments, before old ghost stories dug rotting fingers into their life. Her vision grays, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up. 
She hadn’t known. But she’s glad. She’s glad she has, at least, this much to hang on to.
182 notes · View notes
remmushound · 3 years
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Beyond the Bay chapter 3: What we’ve become
@brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @digitl-art-monstr
The yelling started early today. Donatello was already working in his lab when the shouts reached him and he moved only to close the door before continuing his work; the muffled argument was a little less annoying, and he wasn’t going to let that new everyday occurrence disturb him. He just hoped they’d get over it quickly this time. His room felt hot as a sauna with the door closed. Michelangelo was still sleeping when the argument came to its peak and, though he woke up with the violence just outside his door, all he did was curl deeper into the blankets and try to ignore it.
“Why can’t you just trust that I’m right on this one?” Leonardo’s voice was softer than his older brother’s, but carried a viper's poison in the sharp words.
“Because you’re not!” Raphael boomed, his shouts like a deep base drum bouncing off the wall. When he prodded Leonardo’s chest, the slider hardly moved. “You think you are, but you’re not!”
“And you think you know what’s best for everyone, but you don’t, Raph!”
“I never said that!”
“You didn't have to.” Leonardo hissed through his teeth, and when he advanced on Raphael, the snapper kept backing up until he met a wall and could escape no further. “You keep acting like a dictator and won’t take our thoughts into consideration!”
“I DID CONSIDER THEM!” Raphael shoved his way past Leonardo to escape the interaction, “Don’t get in my face, you know I can’t stand that!”
“I didn't mean to.” Leonardo said, and there was truth in the statement; the relapse of calm didn't last very long as he pursued Raphael, “This is a lose-lose situation, Raph, and we need to choose what’s better for him!”
“Or what’s easiest for you.” Raphael snarled, his eyes darkening as he snapped back to look at Leonardo.
“You think that’s what this is about?” Leonardo pulled back, his mouth agape as he stared at his leader.
“Isn’t it?” Raphael flashed his teeth, “You just don’t want to put in the work. Like. Usual.”
Leonardo’s face was hot and flushed, his eyes burning, but still he stared into Raphael’s cold gaze. “You really think I would do that for something this serious…?”
“Right now, I don’t know what to think Leo…” Raphael lost his sharp tone, but his words were still bitter as he turned his back to his brother. 
“Guys.” Donatello knocked on the wall to announce his presence, startling both mutants. “I’m getting a strange inter-dimensional reading from downtown; we should check it out.” 
Donatello took his leave quickly before he could be addressed or questioned. Raphael started to give a response, but Donatello was already gone. Instead, he sighed and turned to Leonardo.
“We are not done talking about this.”
The trip over was spent in silence, Donatello in the lead of his brothers to guide the way. Raphael wanted badly to talk with Michelangelo, but when he saw the look of pure sadness imprinted on his youngest brother's face, he thought better of it. Michelangelo’s eyes were heavy, a small frown etched into his features where there had once almost always been a smile. One by one the brothers dropped into the alleyway, the younger two looking to the left and the older two to the right to make sure there was no obvious danger to them. When their shared mindspace revealed nothing but peaceful solitude, Donatello flipped his goggles down over his eyes to search for the signatures unseen.
“Maybe our friends came to visit…?” Michelangelo suggested hopefully, his voice painfully soft as he fiddled with his mask tails.
“No, there’s only one signature.” Donatello hummed as he started to track the signature, “It’s not mystic, but it… doesn’t seem quite mutant either. There’s definitely mutagenic properties though…”
“So… a non-mutant with mutagen?” Leonardo asked, his doubt creeping into his voice with a scoff. “Makes sense.”
 Donatello pulled up his goggles so he could face Leonardo unobscured. “Or a potential baddie transporting mutagen. Wouldn’t be the first one to attempt to recreate mutagen with his own sick twist.”
“He’d be the first to succeed though.” Raphael muttered, his voice low. “Doctor Feral has been trying for years to get it right according to Draxum.”
“Well today might just be his lucky day.” Donatello commented.
“Or unlucky.” Leonardo said, “Can you track where he or his lackey went?”
“Yes, that should be no problem…” Donatello said, distracted as he started to play around his his holographic screens. 
“Is there a separate problem then?”
Donatello didn't immediately answer. He finished up whatever he was working on, his brothers waiting impatiently, before he responded. “The signature is definitely inter-dimensional and Feral has never shown any interest in the subject. I’m just wondering how he could’ve gotten his hands on something capable of making a controlled black hole without us noticing, or without ripping himself apart. It’s a really delicate process.”
“So maybe it’s not Feral…” Leonardo mused, “Maybe it’s someone else?”
“We’ll just have to see.” Donatello sighed, his spider arms deploying and digging into the stone of the closest building to carry him upward. “Come on, signature’s this way.”
His brothers hopped after him one by one, leaving the alley and its single, hidden occupant in silence.
Following Donatello, the brothers took the rooftops straight for a long while before taking a sharp turn. They passed a water tower, and what remained of Cassandra’s bakery; the brothers stopped for a moment in silent mourning of the burnt-out building before carrying on. Thirty minutes into the search and Donatello hesitated, tapping the device that had been guiding him.
“What’s up, Don?” Raphael asked, approaching his brother's side to peer down at the machine; he couldn’t tell if it was broken or not by just eyeing it, so he asked a followup question. “Is something wrong with the tech?”
“I don’t know…” Donatello mused, tapping the machine several more times with a furious growl. “It stopped calculation…”
Leonardo looked around, and then pointed to the same water tower they had passed by ten minute earlier, “Looks like it was taking us in circles anyway.” 

“Odd.” Raphael said, narrowing his eyes slightly, “Don, explanation?”
“Working on it.” Donatello said, and he was.
“Donnie’s tech malfunctions all the time.” Leonardo commented, a smirk splitting his face as he leaned against a nearby wall to wait. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Can it, Nardo.” Donatello growled softly. “It was working just a few minutes ago.”
“If you say so.”
While the rest of the family waited, Donatello paced, mumbling lowly under his breath as he fiddled and tinkered. It didn't take long at all for Raphael to grow anxious; every moment they spent in the same place was another moment they risked being spotted by the Foot Clan or, even worse, the AMA. The city streets that used to be so quiet at this hour weren’t nearly so anymore; catching sight of a small group of humans in the streets below, Raphael and his brothers all ducked for cover. Donatello had to be practically dragged out of view and away from his hyper-focus on his tech issue.
“We can’t hang out here.” Raphael said, “We’re exposed. We can go back to the lair and Don can fix his geek tech, then we can come back.”
“But Feral or whoever it is could be long gone by then.” Leonardo brought up.
Raphael pursed his lips and gave a low rumble. Leonardo had a good point. With new mutants popping up what seemed like every day, they really couldn’t afford even more mutagen being produced and released to the public. They already had enough to deal with as the new super swarm of oozesquitos were emerging, and it would only get harder to contain them. Then he reconsidered again, and when the potential for injury or capture resurfaced, he quickly made his mind up.
“It’s a risk we’ll have to take then. We’re sitting ducks out here, and unless you want to find out if the rest of you are bullet proof, then we should hustle back home. Snipers could be anywhere.” Raphael winced at the painful memory of the bullets striking his shell, doing little damage but still hurting beyond measure.
“Ah yes, the infamous night snipers.” Leonardo rolled his eyes, “Sniping in the night. Gotta fear them.”
“Not funny, Leo.” Raphael snorted, “No time for joking, so let’s head home.”
The lair was painfully quiet when the brothers entered and called out to their father to announce their presence. There was no response, but then again they hadn’t been expecting one either. Raphael gave a nod of dismissal to his brothers before he strode off toward their fathers room. Donatello separated from his brothers quickly, still muttering his agitation at the device that refused to cooperate. Leonardo was waiting for Michelangelo to take off first, most likely toward his room or toward the kitchen for a quick snack, but the youngest brother didn't move. He was taller than Leonardo now, making the blue brother the smallest of the four, but still he clung tightly to his brother's arm like he always did; it was a habit not easily broken.
Leonardo frowned, but then tried to smile as he wrapped an arm around Michelangelo and started to lead him toward the gaming room.
“Hey Hermano, what say we squeeze in a quick game before Don fixes his doohickey? Might be a good way to pass the time.”
“Leo?” Michelangelo pulled away, resisting his brother's attempt to steer him away.
“Yeah, Miguel?”
Michelangelo, not expecting to actually be heard, was at a loss of words for several moments. He averted his gaze, arms folding behind his back as he hung his head low. His feet danced a nervous dance, tracing against the ground. Leonardo put a hand on his brothers shoulder, angling his head to try and get a glance at Michelangelo’s hidden expression.
“Bro…?” Leonardo asked softly, and when no response came, he pressed his nose to Michelangelo’s neck and gave a snorting chuff. Michelangelo giggled and pushed him away, and Leonardo smiled at the response. “Come on, you can talk to me about anything!”
“I… it’s just that…” Michelangelo rubbed his arm anxiously, “Would you wanna have a movie morning in the morning? You know, after Don fixes his thingie and we do our thing? You know, us, April, Casey, and… and dad? It’s just… we haven’t had one in a while and we used to really like them.”
Leonardo nodded slowly, his smile growing more genuine by the moment. He gave Michelangelo a solid pat on the shoulder. “Of course. I’d love to have movie morning with you, baby brother.”
Michelangelo scrunched up his beak. “Leoooo! I’m not a baby anymore!”
Leonardo practically hung on Michelangelo, using his baby voice to further mock and annoy Michelangelo. “You’ll always be a baby to me!”
“We were mutated on the same day, Leo!” Michelangelo giggled.
“Mikey, when you get to be my age—“
“You’re seventeen!” Michelangelo groaned.
“And you’re fifteen~” Leonardo booty-bumped Michelangelo. “And someone has a sweet sixteen coming up~”
Michelangelo bumped him back. “You know mine’s still a month away.”
“You’re already planning it, aren’t you?” Leonardo smirked.
Michelangelo gasped at the accusation. “I can’t plan my own surprise party! Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Leonardo’s expression didn't falter, simply staring at his brother with an even smile. It didn't take long for the box turtle to break under the pressure.
“I have a five page wish list already…”
“Of course you do.” Leonardo ruffled his brothers head, “I’d expect nothing left from the master of all things party!”
“What, say what?! That is not my title!” Michelangelo and Leonardo started to walk side by side toward the gaming room.
“Oh? Then what is it, oh Party Master?”
“Definitely not that!” Michelangelo laughed, “Buuuut I’ll think on it.”
“We have all the time in the world, little bro.”
27 notes · View notes
raunchyom · 3 years
Text
Vices, Not Virtues: Charity
[ Chapter 2 ]
[ Previous ] [ Next ]
A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad
word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​
Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 
Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.
Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.
You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.
Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.
You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?
As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.
It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.
He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?
You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.
Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.
“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.
“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.
Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.
“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.
“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”
“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 
“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.
“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.
“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.
“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”
...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 
You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.
“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”
At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”
“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.
“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”
“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.
“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”
“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 
“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.
“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.
“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.
“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 
“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.
“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 
It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”
“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 
It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”
“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”
Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 
His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”
“I don’t act like--”
“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”
You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.
“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 
It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”
“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”
A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”
“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”
Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”
“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”
You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.
“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”
“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.
“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 
“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.
“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 
“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”
“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 
“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.
Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 
You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.
74 notes · View notes
fallen-gravity · 3 years
Text
Cheap Thrills and Expensive Snacks
Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”
Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.
Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”
The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.
“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.
“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets.
Notes: Here's my belated entry for Week 3 of Forduary: Road Trip!! I absolutely love the road trip trope, and highkey wish Ford could've gotten to see some of Stan's competitors just for the sake of how awful they were compared to the Mystery Shack. C'mon! Give Stan some credit.I also wanted an excuse for Ford to bond more with the kids before they went home, and what better way than through a never-ending roadtrip that somewhat breaks the laws of time and space?
@forduary
AO3
Ever since Ford heard the first bird chirping the morning after Weirdmageddon’s conclusion, he’s felt like a thirty-year old weight has finally been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in decades, Ford has found himself able to sleep, able to eat, able to do and say anything he pleases without having to speak in hushed tones or cast a cautious glance behind his shoulders.
For the first time since his childhood, he truly feels like himself again, and no longer like a marionette whose strings are always on the brink of snapping under pressure.
It was that first morning after the war, upon waking up before others (out of habit, mostly), that he allowed himself to truly sit and ponder on everything he’s been missing since shutting himself out from the world in his early twenties. He quickly came to the conclusion that the things he missed most were always the things he’d always had just outside of arm’s length; He missed the thrill of discovery, of exploration,  the passion for his life’s work that had faded into thin air the moment that fateful first test run of the portal had failed.
Most of all, he missed companionship.
As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Ford needed other people in his life more than anything else, even more than Ivy League schools and research grants and all the knowledge in the universe.
He told Stan the reason he wanted to take a boat out to the Arctic was to track and contain the remnants of Weirdmageddon that had begun to spread outside of Gravity Falls. But truth be told, he would’ve asked Stan if he still wanted to travel world with him regardless, because Ford found himself wanting nothing more than to chase their childhood dream and never let it go again.
There’s a light knock on his study door as he’s scribbling down navigation notes and he’s half-expecting to see Stan when he turns to the noise. He’s instead met with Dipper and Mabel, standing side by side in his doorway.
“Got a minute?” Dipper asks.
“We have something super important to ask you!” Mabel beams.
Ford places his pen down on his desk, and smiles. “I’m listening”
“Well,” Dipper starts. “We’ve been thinking about how we didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time with you this summer because...” he shrugs. “Well, because we didn’t know you existed until a few weeks ago”
“And that’s totally unfair to you!” Mabel throws her arms up in the air. “It’s not your fault you missed out on all the fun because you were trapped in another dimension”
Dipper nods. “And that got us thinking of all the time we spent with Grunkle Stan, and the road trip he took us on a few weeks ago without you. I don’t know if that was because he asked you and you said no, or if he left without telling you out of spite, or something”
“And that’s when a super genius idea came to us!” Mabel grins. “Grunkle Ford, do you want to go on a road trip with us? One last adventure before we have to go home?”
Ford’s smile softens with sadness. He’d gotten so caught up in reveling in Bill’s defeat that he’d almost forgotten the kids were heading back to California at the end of the summer.
But…a glance to the calendar hanging by the doorway tells him it’s August 29th, and the twins are set to leave after their birthday party ends on the 31st.
Ford shakes his head. “I would love to, but…” he frowns. “I’m not sure we have enough time”
The young twins exchange grins, like that’s exactly the response they were waiting for.
“I wouldn’t say that, Grunkle Ford” Dipper grins, looking like he’s struggling to suppress a fit of giggles.
“We have all time in the world” Mabel finishes Dipper’s sentence for him, and in perfect unison the twins pull out a roll of measuring tape from their pockets. Before Ford has even a moment to wonder what they could mean, they each pull on their tape, high five each other, and disappear into thin air.
Ford stumbles to his feet, nearly knocking his chair to the ground. Between one blink and the next the kids reappear, both of them wearing period piece costumes. The measuring tapes in their hand crackle with blue lightning.
Ford gasps. “Time tapes! Of course!” He approaches the twins in the doorway. “How did you two get ahold of these?”
“Let’s just say we have an inside to these sorts of things” Mabel replies, kicking her costume off and placing her time tape back into her sweater pocket.
“So what do you say?” Dipper steps forward. “Do you want to come with us on a road trip? We can literally go whenever we want”
“You mean when--” Mabel pauses, backtracking. “Oh, wait, you did say that”
“So what do you say, Grunkle Ford? One more adventure for the road?”
Ford’s chest fills with warmth. He’d love to; he really would, but…
“What about Stan?”
“Y’gotta give me some credit, poindexter” Stan’s voice rings from behind the corner. If Ford had to guess, it’s probably because he was waiting for his response. “Someone’s gotta tag along to babysit you three”
Ford wants to glare at his brother at the insult, but his excitement overtakes it and a grin spreads to his face instead.
“Let’s go,” he says, with all the wonder in his tone that he’d been missing for years.
Dipper and Mabel exchange nods, and take each other’s hands. With their free hands, they stretch their measuring tapes out the same length.  Stan grabs on to Mabel’s shoulder, and after he and Dipper share a silent, knowing glance, Ford places his hand on Dipper’s shoulder.
Dipper and Mabel release their tape in unison, and a large flash of white light overwhelms Ford’s vision. When it finally fades, the four of them are still standing exactly where they’d been a moment ago, the only indication that anything changed being the sparks of blue lightning crackling from their clothes.
Dipper’s the first to step away from the huddle. “See?” He gestures at Ford’s wall calendar, which now displays June instead of August. “It’s practically the beginning of the summer all over again!”
Mabel breaks away to stand beside Dipper. “Now we can go anywhere we want! We could go to Portland, or Vegas, or the lost city of Atlantis, or anywhere in the world, because this bad boy prevents us from missing our bus ride home for as long as we want!”
Stan chuckles, shaking his head. “Not so fast, Mabel. I love the enthusiasm, but I’m not sure my old RV can handle driving into the ocean. Not unless Brainiac over here is willing to do some modifications on it” Stan throws an arm around Ford’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Besides, I’ve already got a plan!” Stan’s gaze shifts to Ford, and the grin on his face could split it in two. “If you think my attractions look fake, just wait ‘til you see how bad my competitors look compared to me!”
“I dunno,” Dipper frowns, scratching at his chin. “Don’t you think going back to the place where you were almost eaten by a giant spider lady is a bad idea?”
“Hey, time travel rules mean that I never met her in the first place, right?” Stan crosses his arms. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna fall for her tricks all over again just because she offers me discounted tickets, or something”
Dipper and Mabel exchange worried glances.
“Mmm, okay,” Dipper says. “But we’re keeping an eye on you”
“That’s the spirit!” Stan exclaims, and slaps Ford on the back as he backs out of the room. “I’m gonna go pack. I doubt you have anything to pack, Sixer, but we’re reconvening in the gift shop in an hour. Go…take a shower or something. I don’t wanna spend next twelve hours driving with someone smelling like that.”
Ford glares at him, but before he has time to respond Stan’s already gone. The kids must’ve slipped out close on Stan’s heels, because when Ford turns he’s alone in his room. Rolling his eyes, he walks to his couch and kneels on the ground, reaching underneath for his emergency exploration pack. It’s a backpack torn and worn from age, and comes already packed with water bottles, nutrient bars, sunscreen, and just about every brand of monster repellent known to mankind.
A nostalgic sort of smile threatens to tug at his lips. He hasn’t seen this bag since his early research days with Fiddleford. He slings it over his shoulders, and pats at his trench coat pocket to make sure his journal is still safely tucked inside. He doesn’t necessarily plan on making any more additions, but he supposes that old habits die hard.
~~
It’s a very bulky RV, much bigger than Ford was expecting. He’d assumed that Stan calling it an RV was just an exaggeration, and that the four of them would just be piling into the Stanleymobile as they tugged some tiny trailer along that they would only would only step foot in for sleeping. But as Ford approaches, he can see Dipper and Mabel chatting at a small table through the window, and Stan rummaging through a cupboard above them, and it looks as though there’s still plenty of room to walk between them.
Mabel taps on Dipper’s shoulder, points in Ford’s direction, and both of them wave frantically out the window at him.
“Took you long enough,” Stan suddenly appears in the doorway of the camper. “Now get in. The last thing we need is to run into the past versions of those two and get bombarded with questions” He gestures with his thumb towards Dipper. “Especially him.  He sees that journal sticking out of your pocket and we’re done for”
Ford chuckles. “I can only imagine,” he says, and climbs aboard behind Stan. He’s about to take the passenger side seat besides Stan when the kids frantically wave him over.
“Grunkle Ford, over here!” Mabel beams, and hops down from her seat across from Dipper. “Come sit with us!”
“This is a road trip about spending more time with you, after all” Dipper nods. “What good will it do for us if you’re sitting way up front with Stan?”
“Yeah! No good interrogation ever happens from across the room!” Mabel exclaims.
Ford raises an eyebrow, but smiles at the pair as he takes a seat across from them. “Interrogation?”
“Yep!” Dipper grins. “We already know all of the heroic scientist stuff about you…”
“But we want to know the fun Grunkle stuff about you!” Mabel finishes his sentence for him. “You favorite ice cream flavor, your first kiss, the most illegal thing you’ve ever gotten away with…you know, just the basics!”
Ford blushes. “Well, I don’t know about that…”
“Aww, I’m sure it’s not that bad! Dipper’s first kiss was with a merman he had to give reverse CPR to!”
“Mabel!”  Dipper squeaks, his whole a dark shade of red. “That’s not fair! You know I didn’t have a choice!”
Ford can’t help the fond smile that spreads to his face. It’s moments like these that he’s going to miss the most. Sure, he’ll have anomalies, and treasure, and the whole world to explore, but he just knows that none of that is ever going to compare to time alone with the kids.
Once Stan gets the RV up and running, Ford knows there’s no going back. He and the kids swap childhood stories for hours, only pausing when Stan pulls off the side of the road to fuel up on gas and snacks. Dipper tells him of the time him and Mabel shaved their heads after a bully stuck gum in Mabel’s hair on photo day, and Ford tells them of the time that he and Stan swapped clothes on photo day just to see if they could get away with it. (They could, and Ford still has the yearbook where their photos are mislabeled as each other hidden away in his study to this day).
It’s eye opening, honestly. The young twins really are a mirror image to himself and Stan when they were kids.
“We’re here!” Stan grins, screeching the RV to a sudden halt. Upon looking out the window, the only thing Ford can see is a gift shop about the size of an outhouse and a ball of yarn about three sizes bigger than the RV.  Stan stands from the driver’s seat, stretching. “You think I overcharge for my tours, Sixer? This woman charges double the price of my admission just to take a picture of this fuzz ball” He reaches underneath the driver’s seat, pulling out a large hook attached to a thick rope. “We’re only doing her a favor by stealing it! Starting from scratch with a new attraction could do her some good”
“Hmm, I dunno” Dipper shrugs. “Don’t you think that doing the exact same prank on all of your competitors in the exact same order is just gonna result in them, I dunno, pranking you again in the exact same way?”
“Nonsense!” Stan brings his hand to his chest like Dipper had offended him. “The only reason they got away with it last time is because we left poindexter here home alone in the basement. There’ll be dozens of tour groups coming through the shack today with my past self taking care of the place for me.”  He taps at his forehead. “Besides, wasn’t this whole road trip your idea in the first place?” He smirks. “Are you telling me that your own idea is dumb?”
Dipper opens his mouth to argue back, realizes he has nothing, and pouts grumpily as he hops out of the RV. Stan cackles, and hops out of the RV after him. Ford rolls his eyes, and hops out after them to take a look at his surroundings. Stan really wasn’t kidding; everything really is contained to the one parking lot with nothing to show for it but the giant ball of yarn and a converted outhouse with tie-dye tee shirts hanging from its roof.
“Don’t just stand there gawking at it!” Stan slaps him on the shoulder, grinning. “Either help the kids out or talk the old woman’s ear off long enough to distract her” he gestures with a thumb towards Dipper and Mabel, giggling and poking at each other as they tie the rope end of the hook to the RV. As Mabel walks to attach the hook to the large yarn ball, she notices Ford watching her and waves hello.
“Hey Grunkle Ford!” she shouts. “If there’s enough left over from this mound after we drag it home, I’ll knit you a sweater with it!”
Ford laughs as he approaches to help her. “I’m counting on it.”
As it turns out, she wasn’t joking. As soon as they’ve all piled back into the RV to head to the next tourist trapped, Mabel already has her sewing needles in hand and a tangled ball of multicolored yarn sitting on the table in front of her. It’s amazing watching her work, clicking the needles together so quickly yet delicately, not missing a single fold. Ford’s never seen someone pour so much love into something so particular since the early days of his research.
Ford doesn’t want to interrupt her focus, so he turns to Dipper instead.
“How long has she been able to do that?”
Dipper glances at his sister beside him. “Oh, you mean sewing? Our grandma from our mom’s side of the family taught her when she was about six.” He rolls his eyes. “Our parents tried to buy her an electronic sewing machine for our eighth birthday, but she flat out rejected it because she insisted there wouldn’t be enough love in her creations if she didn’t make them by hand”
“It’s true!” Mabel exclaims, not looking up from her sewing job. “I’m not gonna sit around and let some machine do all the work for me! How are my friends and family supposed to know I made them their sweaters with love if I didn’t sew my blood and sweat into the threads myself?”
Ford hopes she’s being metaphorical, but the sentiment is still there. “So you’re telling me that every sweater you’ve worn this summer is homemade?”
“Yep!” she beams. “All the way down to the embroidery.” She holds up the skeleton of the sweater she’s working on into the light. “You’re real lucky, Grunkle Ford. This’ll be my first sweater I’ve ever made out of stolen materials!”
Her use of the term first rather than only makes Ford laugh.  The more time he spends with them, the less he wants to say goodbye to them. Stan must be the bravest man alive, being willing to send these kids home after three months with them, because if it were up to him he’d already be signing adoption papers to make them legally his.
“Stop two!” Stan yells from the front of the RV, and hops out as soon as they’re parked. Mabel places her work gently on the table, and follows Stan out without any effort. Dipper, on the other hand, takes one look out the window at where they’ve stopped and pales.
“Oh no”
Ford follows his gaze. It’s just a single story home turned on its head, absolutely nothing about it giving Ford the impression that there’s anything scary about it.
“What’s wrong?” Ford asks. “Do you get motion sickness? I learned quite a few tricks on how to deal with just the thing in the Spinning Top Dimension! You’re going to need a few things first, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find them around here somewhere-”
“N-no, it’s not that” Dipper cuts him off, face turning a dark shade of red. “The last time we were here I tried asking Grunkle Stan if he had any advice on how to talk to girls. And there was this one really cute girl, and we hit it off, but…” he rubs at his arm. “I acted like a total jerk. I treated her like she was just a number and I feel awful about it”
Ford frowns, getting down on one knee. “You’re not worried you’re going to run into her again, are you? This time loop should be stable enough to prevent her from showing up early”
Dipper’s gaze falls to the floor. “No, it’s more like…I’m so afraid of being myself that I feel like the only way I can fit in is to act like something I’m not. I just wish I could figure out a way to talk to girls without forcing myself to act like I’m better than them or something”
Ford smiles. “Dipper, I may not have any sound advice when it comes to girls,  but I’ve only known you for a number of weeks, and I think anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re kind and caring and so brilliant for your age” Dipper opens his mouth to protest, but Ford shakes his head. “Some of the most brilliant minds in the world suffered from anxiety and depression, my boy, and look where they are now. I have the upmost confidence that the same thing is bound to happen to you”.
Dipper’s eyes are big and wide, like he’s about to cry, but the waterworks never come. Dipper throws his arms around Ford’s neck in a hug, and Ford hugs him back. Once they pull away, they hop out of the van to join Stan and Mabel outside to prevent Stan from coming back in to yell at them. This stop is a bit less complicated, just a simple walkthrough to make sure there isn’t a hoard of tourists inside before running back out to tip the whole house right side up. It’s a lot of laughing from Stan and sprinting back to the van, and once they’re out of the parking lot and back on the highway it’s as if they never stopped at all. Mabel gets right back to working on her sweater, and Dipper gets right back to chatting up Ford for life stories.
A good portion of their stops go equally as smooth. The kids convince Ford to go on the log flume at Log Land with them which he absolutely does not throw up on, thank you very much, and Mabel nearly gets lost in a corn maze, but otherwise there’s nothing much of interest. Ford’s starting to suspect that Stan must be right, that the Mystery Shack really is the most interesting tourist trap in the entire state, until a giant mountain looms over the horizon.
“There she is,” Stan says, as if he could read his brother’s thoughts. “Her first year of opening I lost over half my usual revenue and I’ve sworn revenge on her ever since” He balls his hand into a fist and smacks the top of the steering wheel. “Our biggest mistake last time was getting too attached. I say this time we run in, grab as many mummies as we can get our hands on, and book it back to the shack before Darlene notices.”
“Don’t you mean that was your biggest mistake?” Dipper quips. “Besides, didn’t we find out last time that those mummies are real dead bodies?” He shivers. “I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel about stealing them”
From the rearview mirror, Stan raises an eyebrow at Dipper. “What, you afraid their souls are gonna follow us home and haunt us? Work on your moral compass later, kid, this is about revenge” He adjusts the mirror. “Besides! What’s the chance we rescue someone who isn’t dead yet, just slowly suffocating in that nasty tasting web?”
Dipper opens his mouth to say one thing, pauses, and starts again. “Grunkle Stan, are you telling me you tried to eat the web you were trapped in?”
Stan shrugs. “Hey, I’m no stranger to chewing my way out of things. I’m just lucky I didn’t break any teeth on it, like I did with that car trunk”
As if that doesn’t raise more questions than it does answers, Stan drops the conversation entirely and doesn’t say another word until the RV pulls into the parking lot. Ford can’t even see the mountain peak when he hops out, it’s so obscured by fog that he knows wasn’t there ten minutes ago. Fog is the number one trap produced by anomalies to hunt their pray, so it’s no wonder this place gives Stan the creeps. Ford can’t even begin to imagine the size of the spider monsters the others described to him.
A shriek nearly escapes him at the feeling of something spindly crawling up his arm, but when he whips around he sees it’s just Stan running his fingers along his shoulder in a quick, scattered pattern. When he catches Ford’s eyes, he laughs so hard that tears pour down his cheeks.
“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Stan wheezes. “You were all oh no, mister spider half the size of my hand, don’t eat me!” he cackles, wiping at his eyes with his wrist. “C’mon, time is money, and we don’t have any to waste” he gestures to the kids, already waiting at the information booth. “If we don’t hurry the kids are gonna get on the sky tram without us”
Ford raises an eyebrow. “You? On a sky tram?”
“Dipper didn’t tell you?” Stan’s raised eyebrow matches Ford’s. “Mabel helped me conquer my fear of heights! Now I’m untouchable!”
Seventeen years of the boardwalk and all the cotton candy as bribe in the world couldn’t fix Stan’s fear of heights. Dipper and Mabel really do continue to amaze him the more Stan tells him about them.
“Right,” Ford shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Of course.”
~~
It’s really no wonder this place boasts having the world’s slowest sky tram, because if it weren’t for the moving tree line Ford would almost think they weren’t moving at all. The bored expression on everyone else’s faces, a massive shift from the mischievous grins they’d been wearing before they got on has Ford choking down laughter. It’s about five minutes before there’s any sight of anything but tree bark, and the sun beaming directly into the glass car makes the whole thing feel like a sauna.
Still, it’s a dramatic shift in pace, and not one that Ford rejects. It’s really forcing him to slow down and think about his own feelings for once, a privilege he hasn’t had since he was in high school. Maybe it’s a little selfish of him to cherish the times he just gets to lose himself in his own head, rather than to spend so much of his time calculating plans to rescue others from danger, but-
“Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan’s voice suddenly breaks through Ford’s thoughts, startling him.
Ford blushes. “What do I think of what?”
“The new plan!” Stan gestures to Dipper with his thumb. “Since this buzzkill is so against stealing ‘real dead bodies’,” he emphasizes with air quotes, “and since we probably couldn’t shove them all in this car anyway, we’re gonna go ahead with Plan B instead; Burning down Widow’s Peak!” Stan throws his hands in the air dramatically.
Dipper beams. “That way, they can’t make any more mummies for their mummy museum, and we might be able to save a few people from suffocating to death!” Stan and Dipper high five.
“It’s a brilliant plan, but…” Ford taps at his chin. “Where do you suppose we’re going to find the fire to burn it down?”
Stan cocks an eyebrow at him. “You tell me, mister ‘setting my face on fire is faster than shaving’. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a lighter in your pocket right now. They have a bunch of prop torches in the caves, but if we pop the lightbulbs out of them and light them they should work good as usual” Stan’s mischievous grin is back on his face, a perfect reflection of when he was thirteen and pickpocketing a dollar from people’s wallets on the boardwalk to buy a box of saltwater taffy.
Turns out, it’s just as contagious now as it was back then. Ford reaches into the front pocket of his trench coat, and sure enough, comes up with a lighter. Stan erupts in laughter at the sight of it, and soon enough the entire car is infected with it. The rest of the ride up the mountain is much bubblier after that, with everyone swapping overdramatic stories of how the plan is going to go.
~~
Widow’s Peak is much bigger than Ford was expecting. It’s a whole cave that looks like it stretches for miles, and there really are rotting skeletons hanging upside down from the cave walls and ceilings.
Ford shudders.
“Aww, c’mon, Sixer! I know for a fact this isn’t half as bad as the stuff in your journals” Stan jabs at his shoulder with his unlit torch. “Besides, didn’t you say in your own journal that most ghosts come from their old bodies not having a proper burial? He gestures at a skeleton hanging upside down from the ceiling, its left hand barely hanging on by a thread. “You think any of these guys look like their spirits were able to move on peacefully, or however it goes?” Stan shakes his head matter of-factly. “You really want some poor unsuspecting tourist to bump into a hoard of angry ghosts? Tsk tsk”
“Alright, alright” Ford raises his hands in self-defense. “I suppose you’re right”. He takes his lighter out of his pocket and tosses it to Stan. Stan lights up his own torch, helps Dipper and Mabel with theirs, and then he turns back to help light Ford’s.
“Alright,” Stan rubs his hands together the best he can with a lit torch tucked under his arms. “Everyone knows the plan. Burn as many mummies as you can find, rescue the poor suckers who are still alive, and signal if you hear Darlene coming. Since I don’t trust Sixer over here not to try and interview her and get himself in trouble again, I say I’m in charge of lookout duty.” He adjusts his collar and flattens down the wrinkles of his suits with a quick pat down. “I flirt with her just long enough to distract her, I throw my torch in her face, and then we book it out of here as fast as our legs can carry us”
Dipper still doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, isn’t that exactly how you got yourself tangled up in a web last time?”
“Oh please,” Stan scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “The only reason that worked last time is ‘cause she cornered me when we were alone. Besides, where’s she gonna take me if she catches me that you can’t just throw a torch and rescue me five minutes after it happens?”
Dipper’s face darkens. “True,” he mumbles under his breath, which makes Stan laugh. Stan slaps him on the shoulder, and Dipper glares at him, but there doesn’t seem to be any malice in it.
It’s one final glance between the four of them, and they’re all running off in different directions of the cave. It’s not long before the stench of burning silk fills the air, mixed with the stench of something Ford doesn’t want to think too much about. The webs burn relatively quickly, and together they burn through half of the cave in a much faster time than Ford would’ve expected. He’s about to light up one that looks like it was left here fairly recently, until something inside it starts wiggling.  Startled, Ford steps backwards until his back hits the cave wall, a soft oof escaping him.
“S’matter, poindexter?” Stan looks up from the fire he’s stomping out with his foot. “You see a widdle baby spider that freaked you out?”
Ford tries to glare at him, but the fear stabbing him in the chest doesn’t let it stick. He swallows hard, and points towards the wiggling cocoon with his torch.
“I think we have a live one” he whispers, stepping to stand beside Stan. Once Stan follows Ford’s torch with his eyes, something inside him tenses up.
“Ah, wh-what’d I tell you?” Stan’s voice shakes. “It’s probably just some poor sucker who fell for Darlene’s charms. Definitely not a gross sack of baby spider people or anything”
“R-right,” Ford swallows hard, and inches back towards the cocoon, rapidly waving his torch back and forth to potentially scare off whatever could be inside trying to break out.  But the longer he waves the torch in front of the web, the more he can make out the silhouette of a regular human being.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Ford rushes forward and begins tearing at the web with his bare hands, just enough so that the man is free from the chest up. He takes large gasps of air, and upon realizing that his hands are free he begins tearing at the web himself.  Once his feet are free and hit the ground, he takes one look at the Pines family, mumbles a startled thank you, and runs for his life out of the cave.
After that, the rest of the burnings go pretty smoothly. There’s significantly less living tourists in the cave than Ford would’ve expected from such a large tourist trap, and Ford’s not entirely sure whether he should find that reassuring or downright terrifying.  He’s almost surprised everything went so well, until the four of them nearly collide with a woman on their way out of the cave.
She looks just as baffled to see them as Ford feels to see her.
“Can I…help you?” She asks in a thick Jersey-esque accent. The name tag pinned to her shirt reads DARLENE in large brick letters.
“No!” Dipper cuts in before neither Ford nor Stan can respond to her. He clears his throat. “I mean, uh, no. Uh, apologies if this is a restricted area, but we got lost trying to find our way back to the sky tram” he shrugs overdramatically, no doubt in attempt to show Darlene that his hands are empty. She squints at him, and for a moment Ford could swear he just saw her blink horizontally. The silence that follows, though it probably doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, feels like it drags on for ages.
Suddenly, she’s donning an overly sweet smile. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Let me walk you back. We’ve gotten more than our fair share of tourists who’ve gone missing from wandering too far into our caves, and I’d hate to have that happen to such a nice looking family like yours” She grins, flashing her unusually sharp teeth.  The four of them stay quiet until they’re all packed into their tram car, and Darlene is waving sweetly at them from behind.
They each collectively sigh. “Woof, that was a close one” Stan says, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. In a sudden shift of mood, he reaches over next to him and pulls Dipper into a headlock. “How’s about it for this guy’s quick thinking, huh?” he grins, and the four of them laugh until they hear a horrifying screech that makes their tram car rumble. They turn, and see Darlene emerging from the cave, the bottom half of her body replaced by that of a giant spider.
“My food!” she screams, shaking her first at the tram cars. “You burned all my food! Mark my words, I may not have gotten your names but I don’t forget faces very easily, you hear? If you ever show your face here again you’re dead meat!” She screams, yanking on her hair to reveal the rest of her spider-like body under her human disguise.
Stan simply cackles. “Yeah, we’ll see about that!” he mocks, knowing well enough that she can’t hear them from inside the car. He turns his attention back to the rest of the family. “Maybe we should go and warn our past selves to bring bug spray!” He exclaims, laughing himself to near tears.
Ford only rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile on his face.
If only he’d known what he’d be missing when he turned down Stan’s offer to take this road trip with him and the kids the first time around.
The tram ride back to the parking lot is even more relaxing than the ride up. The sun is setting this time around, and even if the wind can’t really reach inside the car the whole thing just feels cooler. Most of all, he finds that the sound of the Stan and the kids’ laughter is far more welcome than any old conversation he could have in his own head.
When everyone piles back into the RV, they do not drive away immediately like they had at all the other stops. Instead, Stan turns around to face the three of them. “Well, that’s the end of that. That’s all I had planned, and we still have…” he pauses to count on his finger. “Two more months ‘til the kids have to go back home, technically. I’m all out of ideas, and I’m sure the kids have seen enough of the Gravity Falls weirdness for one summer”
He smiles to the kids, who nod and in turn smile at Ford.
“So where do you want to go now, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel says, with stars shining in her eyes. The grin spreading on Dipper’s face matches hers like two peas in a pod.
“Any place in the world. Wherever you want to go…” He pulls the time tape out of his pocket. “…For however long you want”
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hobbitsnapes · 3 years
Text
the elf in the café chapter 6
A corpse husband story
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(I do not own this photo, nor do I know where it originated from. All credit goes to the artist.)
Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries
A/N: H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently
Days past, and each one she grew more stressed.
It wasn’t due to him, if anything, he had been keeping her from having a breakdown. Truly becoming her rock as she did some days prior.
She had a presentation Friday, with today being Wednesday. She had done plenty of speeches, presentations, and public speaking. While all are nerve racking, none came close to this one.
It was open, as in more than just her classmates and teachers were present. She was frightened by this,knowing just the sheer amount of people that could be there. She just hoped and prayed she wouldn’t mess up.
It was now Thursday, and she was nearly on the verge of ripping out her hair from nerves. She red over her speech for probably the hundredth time that day, knowing exactly what to say, but going back and adding things or taking away things.
He had convinced her to spend the day and night in his apartment, promising that he’ll be busy the entire day, giving her the entire spacious living room to herself. Plus, his apartment was much closer to her college than her home. She jumped at the idea, thanking him profusely.
He finally emerged from his filming room, having been filming for the better part of the entire day. He would come out once in a while, grabbing a drink or a snack or to fill her glass of water, a soft thank you making him smile and chest bubble with warmth.
When he walked out, he was taken aback. Her usually neat, softly done hair now a disheveled mess. Her glasses nearly falling off her face as she looked close to having a breakdown. Papers of all kinds strung around her, along with opened books and her glass of water barely touched.
While the sight most would call cute, he found concerning. In the 2 months they had been going out, he’s been able to pick up on a few things about her. He was nowhere near her level, but he could pick out key things that depicted her moods when she wouldn’t voice them.
He walked over to her, making sure as to not step on any of her papers.
He crouched down to her, making her head leave her paper, a tired smile on her face. “Hey.” Her voice was strained, tired, like it wasn’t her who spent the better part of the day speaking. Her eyes looked bloodshot, even with the help of her glasses, he could tell they did little to help her. But even with the clever exhaustion written over her face, she still had her dazzling smile and sparkle to her eyes when she looked at him. Making his heart skip at the look of endearment she gave him. “Hey, you alright baby?” He had started calling her baby as of recently, it was an accident at first, but each time he did, her cheeks would flush and a small laugh would bubble out of her. “Not really, I’m about ready to cry.” His heart sunk at her words, hearing just how tired she was in her voice.
He put his hands on her shoulders, instantly noting how they dropped under his warm touch. “How about a break then, go into my room, pick out a shirt to wear and come back out okay?” He pleaded, a smile on his face when she nodded her head.
His breath caught in his throat again, only this time, his cheeks flushed when he looked at her. A laugh he tried with all his strength to keep down.
“What made you choose that one?” He chuckled, trying not to double over in laughter. She shrugged her shoulders, the shirt momentarily raising up,showing she also grabbed a pair of his boxers. “I gotta ask hun, why did you spill what I assume is wine on your white tee shirt?” He finally broke at her question, throwing his head back in laughter. If only she knew.
There they sat on the couch, his arm strung around her shoulders as they attempted to watch a film, but he could tell her mind was elsewhere.
Her eyes fixated on her papers she had neatly put into her folders, her books stacked and her speech later on top of everything.
He looked over to her, a small sigh leaving him. He wasn’t annoyed or upset at this, rather concerned for her. He could tell she wouldn’t relax properly without making this speech perfect, reminding him of himself in that way. Despite the ever present exhaustion on her face, her eyes still sparkled when she looked at him.
“What?” She chuckled, seeing his deep eyes looking at her. “Come here” he mumbled, pulling her body flush to his, her back against his front.
She relaxed almost immediately, leaning into his warm body. “How about you read it to me?” “What?” She mumbled, turning her body to face his. “I can tell you’re more nervous about the speaking rather than what you wrote. So, maybe reading it to me can help?” A soft smile adorned his face as he looked at her.
She reached for her papers, nessling back into his hold, smiling when she felt his lips press against her temple.
His heart hammers in his chest when he walks into the large auditorium, the amount of people in the large room making him want to run. But he couldn’t, not today at least.
He had toyed with the idea of going to her speech since she told him about it, something he never dreamed of doing for anyone else.
He truly made his decision the night prior, when she red through her speech into the late hours of the night. He was captivated not only by her voice, but the cast knowledge she bestowed in her. He knew she was intelligent beyond her years, beyond anyone he had met in his time. Her words flowed perfectly together, so much to say she so beautifully said. He didn’t know if he was captivated by the words, or because it was coming from her. But either way, he couldn’t say no to himself that morning when he got up, leaving an hour after she had left.
He sat in one of the many seats, only 3 rows away from where she’d be standing in only a few short minutes.
He was beyond excited for her, his nerves blending with the sheer joy and excitement inside of him for her.
His foot tapped against the floor, his hands clammy in his lap as he stared at the stage, waiting any minute to see her walk out.
His breath caught in his throat when she walked out, his eyes widening in shock and awe at her. He saw briefly what she was wearing, but seeing her on the stage, looking like an angel, he couldn’t help but let a large smile creep on his face.
Never had he been so captivated, enamored, and so proud as when she delivered her speech. Every word that fell past her lips had a purpose, a true deep meaning into her passion of the human mind that he didn’t think a human could comprehend. It was as if she was all knowing, could read anyone’s mind with just a glance at them. Never had he been so happy for someone in his life.
Claps heard around the room, hun joining in with pure happiness and viger in his face.
Her eyes locked with his, a large shocked smile on her face when she saw him. Never had he felt so proud as when she smiled at him, knowing it was only for him. This girl, this absolutely magnificent girl had stolen his heart, and vise versa. He was proud to say she chose him, out of everyone in the room, her eyes only for him. And he had never been so happy to say that.
Her heels barreled down the stairs when her eyes landed on him, her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest.
She fell into his arms, nearly making both fall over as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, picking her up and spinning her around. Laughter broke out of both of them at just the sheer joy in the air, nearly making both tear up at the range of emotions between them. “I can’t believe you came.” She exclaimed, a large smile on her face. “Of course, I couldn’t just hide in my apartment when something as big as this was happening.” He chuckled, his head resting on her shoulder.
She pulled back from him, resting her forehead on his, large smiles on both of their faces. “I’m so proud.” He whispered, making her smile. “And I’m so proud you overcame your fear and made it.” He ran his thumb over her cheek, “All because of you.”
Laughter broke out in the living room, her head resting against his chest as they clutched their stomachs.
They shared a few glasses of wine, brought out by him as a celebration.
They were so happy, not because of the alcohol, or the events of the day, but just being together again. It’s like there was an invisible pull between them, that neither could describe to anyone but themselves. They didn’t feel right without one another, neither feeling at peace or home unless the other was present. It was as if they were meant to be.
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