#or it’ll fuck up my internal clock even more. either way i’m probably not getting any better so what’s a little more suffering on the pile

[flippedorbit]

maybe i should start pulling all nighters again

#it won’t fix me and i know it’ll only make me worse but at this point i am so beyond caring. i haven’t had a good nights rest in months #so this won’t be much of a difference. who knows maybe it’ll help me sleep properly again #or it’ll fuck up my internal clock even more. either way i’m probably not getting any better so what’s a little more suffering on the pile

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 8

First

Previous

Marinette had never thought that living in another world would be this hard.

Sure, she had known that she would have issues when it came to the whole ‘she wasn’t technically supposed to be here and therefore needed a new identity’ thing. That was kind of obvious. The story they’d come up with had been simple enough -- she had grown up in Gotham with her parents, was highschool sweethearts with Tim, they had gotten married, he’d moved in with her, and her parents had died so she’d gotten custody of Damian. She was pretty sure Tim had a tragic backstory, but she didn’t really have that memorized yet. She wasn’t all that worried about it, though, she spent quite a lot of time dodging answering questions about her private life as Ladybug. Marinette probably wouldn’t even need to memorize his backstory (she would, of course, because she was nothing if not an overachiever, but she was well aware of the fact that it wasn’t quite necessary).

But, no, it was the small things that made it difficult.

Like affection.

Marinette was Parisian, she was used to greeting people with kisses on both cheeks. Hugs were something reserved for people you were close to.

But, no, Americans just insisted on being backward in everything that they do. And, supposedly, Marinette was American. She could get away with her accent because Gotham had a bunch of different people and it was easy to claim she came from the French part of town, but when it came to customs? No, she had to at least try and act like someone who had lived in America for her entire life.

So, when she was greeted with a hug from the most affectionate of her fellow interns, Marinette suppressed a cringe and patted her on the back awkwardly.

“Hi, Paige,” she said.

Paige beamed. “Ready for work?”

Marinette squinted up at the building. The WE in this universe was even taller than in her usual one.

… or maybe it just looked like that because she dreaded going inside. Ugh. Being an intern was going to suck.

“No.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

“Thanks…”

But, despite Paige’s assurances, it did not go fine.

And it wasn’t even the job thing that wasn’t going well. That, at least, she could handle. No, it was this world’s meme culture that sent her spiraling.

She’d been holding exactly nine cups of coffee, seven mugs of tea, and one energy drink can. Marinette didn’t know if it was her time working in a bakery or some sort of latent Ladybug skills or what but it wasn’t even all that difficult to hold them all.

Paige raised her eyebrows at her, looking vaguely concerned. “Do you need help?” She asked, hands already out as if expecting her to say yes.

Marinette cracked a grin. “No. I’m fine. It’s not even that hard. I could probably carry another two drinks, even.”

“Freaky flexing, but fine.”

“... the fuck did you just say to me?”

~

Tim hummed lightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet, baby sleeping soundly on his shoulder. Marinette fumbled the keys to their new apartment, mumbling curses.

She’d outright told him that she didn’t really care, that she’d lived above a bakery for most of her life so it wasn’t like she would mind as long as the place had counter space…

So why was he nervous?

He felt the tiny hand in his shirt grip him tighter and he looked down. Damian was still fast asleep, sucking on his pacifier peacefully. Tim wondered, idly, how that worked. Was it a reflex that humans lose as they age like the grasping reflex or was it a learned behavior that went away when it wasn’t reinforced anymore?

Marinette managed to open the door, her cheeks tinged red at how difficult it had been, and she swung it open.

He stopped bobbing up and down to watch her face.

But she just shrugged to herself and bent down to grab the box she’d brought up.

He tried not to look too relieved as he followed her inside and watched her set the box down on the kitchen island.

She glanced back at him. “I call cleaning and setting up the apartment!” She said brightly.

“Okay…?” He said, confused as to why she was so excited to clean up…

But then Damian started to stir.

Oh. If she had cleanup duty… then he had…

Baby duty.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Shit, Mari, wait --!”

“Too late! You already said okay!” She said, already heading to the door.

Damian spat out his pacifier and took that one long, deep breath he always took before he was about to scream.

“Mari!”

She stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared around the doorframe just as the baby started to cry.

Tim heaved a sigh and pressed a kiss to the top of the kid’s head. The wailing quieted a little, but didn’t stop. Tim would take it, he hadn’t even been expecting Damian to quiet himself. This was an absolute win in his book.

He glanced at the box that had been brought up but, unfortunately, they hadn’t had enough foresight to bring the baby supplies.

He poked his head out the door and yelled for Marinette to bring up the box with the baby stuff first. She yelled ‘fuck you’ in response but when she came back she handed him the box regardless.

He smiled -- or, at least, he smiled as much as it was possible to smile when a baby was screaming at you -- and went to work figuring out what was wrong.

~

There was good news and bad news.

Good news was that Damian was starting to learn that crying was okay.

Bad news was that Damian was starting to learn that crying was okay.

And, listen, Marinette obviously preferred that. She wanted to know when the kid was hurt or hungry or even just craving affection… but ugh.

She twisted around in the bed to squint at the clock.

Three o’clock. Great.

She groaned softly and buried her face in Damian’s hair again. “Dami, please, I have work tomorrow. Shhhhhhhhh,” she pleaded. As if she didn’t have to go to work every day.

Damian, of course, didn’t stop crying.

Marinette thought she was going to cry.

Tim pulled his arm from around them so he could cover his ears with his pillow.

She reluctantly sat up. Damian banged his little fists against her shoulder in an attempt to tell her… something. Probably that he wasn’t happy. As if the entire apartment complex couldn’t hear just how unhappy he was.

She changed his diaper and then got him Cow. Hopefully that would sate him for the rest of the night.

She clambered back into bed and sent Tim a weak smile when he wrapped an arm around them.

She scooted toward him, because Damian was reaching for him and his eyes were closed, and tucked her head under his chin. He tensed just slightly before relaxing and tangling his legs with hers.

Damian seemed to like being cocooned between them, because he made a vague happy sound and settled down to sleep without much (more) fussing.

Tim hummed lightly. His voice was terrible, but it seemed to calm Damian so Marinette wasn’t about to complain.

It took a while for Damian to go back to sleep but, eventually, he did. Unfortunately, he fell asleep while biting the crinkly ears of his plush and it was hard to sleep with the steady crkcrkcrkcrk sound right next to her.

From the way Tim’s breathing had yet to slow, he wasn’t asleep either.

Well, at least that was something to do.

“I’m beginning to think the reason babies are so cute is that otherwise we would kill them,” she joked, her voice soft so as not to wake the kid again.

Not that it would matter all that much. She could, unfortunately, not see herself going back to sleep before her alarm went off.

He chuckled and nodded as much as he could with her head beneath his. “Right? I just want one night of good sleep --.”

He stopped suddenly.

She drew back a little to check that he was fine, only to see him looking mildly horrified.

“We need to go back home soon. I’m going to get used to sleeping like a normal person. I can’t do that,” he said.

She grinned. “Oh no. The horror.”

“No, you don’t get it. If I do that then I’ll be giving into my family’s wishes. I can’t let them think they’re right about something!”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Here, I’ll make it easier for you: I don’t want you to sleep. As Dami and I are your only family -- legally -- for the next fifteen years, you must not do what we want. Therefore, you have to sleep.”

“Ah. Reverse psychology.”

“Well, I am a psych major.” Some of the amusement faded. “Was a psych major.”

“... really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. I’d figured it was the closest I could get to being Ladybug again.”

“You’re still Ladybug.”

She shrugged just slightly. “Yeah. I dunno,” she said again. She tried for a grin. “Doesn’t feel the same when there’s no emotional terrorism involved.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to do the same thing over and over again for a million years.”

“There’s some comfort in things staying the same.”

“Oh? Maybe we should trade.”

“That’s an amazing plan that I see no problems with. You get to go around beating up the Meta Of The Week and I’ll stay in Gotham dealing with all the idiots in spandex.”

“Are we switching outfits, too?”

“Oh yeah. Obviously. Gotta commit to the whole ‘switching’ thing. I bet I’ll look cuter in your outfit, too.”

“Ah, yes, because cuteness is the most important part of vigilante costumes.”

“We end up in papers all the time, being cute is totally important.”

He chuckled lightly and she felt the arm around her give her a tiny squeeze. She buried her face in his chest.

“You should try and sleep.”

“Hypocrite,” she teased, but she could already feel her eyelids drooping.

He hummed. She thought that, maybe, it didn’t sound so bad as to make him stop.

~

Tim had been in the middle of bathing Damian as he always did before bed when he’d accidentally splashed water on his face.

Perfectly fine and normal.

What wasn’t perfectly fine and normal was that the baby responded by saying: “Oh shit!”

Tim’s eyes narrowed.

“MARINETTE,” he yelled.

Marinette was there in seconds. There was some kind of green paste on her face. She’d been in the middle of her usual skincare routine. He thought it was kind of weird that near-immortals needed skincare routines but that wasn’t the point here.

She looked around frantically. “What?! What’s wrong?!”

“Damian just said sh --... he said the s-word.”

Marinette relaxed at that and sent Tim a glare. “Don’t blame this one on me. You’re the one that says that.”

Tim frowned. Because, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure she was right.

“Now, if he’d said ‘fuck’, that would have been on me, but he didn’t, so --.”

“FUCK,” Damian said brightly.

Tim glared at Marinette again, this time rightfully so.

She looked a little sheepish. “... okay, yeah, that one’s on me.”

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#my baby cousins are starting to rub off on me #yesterday i said 'im sleepies' in a normal conversation #girl help #into the unknown #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #red robin #tim drake

[lovely-ateez]

Just What The Doctor Ordered~

ꕥPosted: 3/14/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Wooyoung

ꕥWord Count: ~2.0k

ꕥWarnings: Language, Protected sex (Reader’s on the pill), Public sex (sort of), Praising, Wooyoung has a thing for being called doctor, Dirty talk

ꕥA/N: Please respect your healthcare workers—Doctor Wooyoung hella hot tho 🥵🤚

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to will my migraine away.

“You know you should probably go see a doctor.” My best friend and coworker, Hongjoong, spoke as he stirred his morning coffee.

“It’s fine. I get them all the time.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem. You shouldn’t.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “Honestly, I’ve trying to avoid going to the doctor but I think you have a point. I can barely focus on anything anymore.”

“Good. Schedule an appointment as soon as you get the chance. You don’t want to wait any longer.” He walked closer to me and ran a hand along my back, “And let me know how it goes, alright? I worry about you sometimes.”

I let out a small laugh, “Thanks, Joongie. I will.”

-

“Miss y/n.”

I raised my head to meet a young woman in light blue scrubs. She smiled at me, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I certainly understood, I’d had many long, long days at work myself.

I hope your day gets better, miss.

“Right this way, please.”

I stood, following her as she lead me into a room and instructed me to sit in one of the chairs.

“The doctor you normally see has been quite busy today, so we’ll have one of our newer doctors see you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” I pressed a hand to my forehead.

“So could you give me run down of what’s been going on?” She clicked a pen, grabbing a scrap of paper from her pocket.

“Sure, basically I’ve just been having really bad migraines.”

“How severe have they been?”

“I mean they’ve been bad enough that I’ve had trouble concentrating.”

“Anything else troubling you?”

“Nope that’s it.”

She scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper and smiled at me.

“Alright, the doctor will be with you soon.” Were her last words as she exited the room with a sigh.

Knowing it’d likely take awhile, I unlocked my phone to mindlessly scroll through social media, eventually getting bored and playing a game instead.

The door opened and I jumped in my seat, placing my phone aside. The young man that walked into the room smiled, running a hair through his parted black hair.

“Hello, I’m Wooyoung. It’s nice to meet you.”

As ridiculous as it sounded, my breath seemed to leave me all at once. His sunkissed skin was seemingly flawless, the closed-mouth smile that he flashed showing slight dimples on his cheeks, the lab coat and stethoscope around his neck left me to admire his appearance. He was certainly the most fit and attractive doctor, let alone man I’d ever seen.

“Oh you, too.”

He reached out to shake my hand and as we touched I felt sparks shoot through me. His hands were slightly rough but still soft. He released my hand with a kind smile.

“So do you mind telling me what’s going on?” He moved a stool that was in the corner of the room closer to me, sitting on it and slightly spreading his legs, his hands on his knees. I felt my head fogging as I fought myself to not stare at him.

“Well I’ve been having really bad migraines recently. I don’t really know what’s causing them.”

“How long have you been having them?”

“For a few months actually, but they’ve only become really bad within the last couple weeks.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Could they be stress induced, by any chance?”

“I mean...I don’t think so? My job is usually stressful but I haven’t been more stressed than normal.”

“Hmm okay. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms? Nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light?”

“No, no other symptoms.”

“Could you be pregnant? That can often-”

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a quite a while so that’s not it. I’ve been busy with work.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a slight smirk on his face, but it was gone before I could fully register it.

“I certainly understand that. I was able to get through medical school faster than most but I was studying all the time so I’ve never really had time for a girlfriend.”

I nodded, not exactly knowing what to say as I felt happiness bubble up in my stomach knowing that he was single.

“So how often do you normally get them?”

I cocked my head and raised a brow, “Get what?”

He let out a chuckle that released butterflies in my stomach, “I mean your migraines. How often do you get them?”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks turn pink, “Maybe four times a week.”

“Cute.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath. I was relatively confident he didn’t intend for me to hear it and I blushed even more.

“Well the nurse told me she forgot to take your vitals so...do you mind?”

“Not at all!” I internally slapped myself for sounding far too enthusiastic, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to care, giving a small smile.

“Could you take off your jacket for me, please?”

“Of course.” I said, ridding myself of the thick coat I was wearing, placing it on a nearby chair. He walked towards me—the smell of his cologne intoxicating—and put the eartips of the stethoscope in his ears.

Wooyoung placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to my back, “Breathe in and out normally for me, please.”

I did as I was told, blocking my mind from the devilishly handsome man right next to me.

After a moment he removed the tool from my back. “I’m going to place the stethoscope on your chest now, okay?”

Wooyoung eyed my sweater which had slightly thicker material in the front, “Is it alright if I put the stethoscope down your shirt? It’ll be hard to hear your heart through your sweater.”

“Oh—yeah that’s okay!” I cleared my throat, “I mean like yeah it’s fine.”

Way to be smooth.

Wooyoung chucked as he reached down the collar of my shirt with the tool, its cold making me shiver. He apologized for the temperature, assuring me it wouldn’t take but a minute.

“That’s odd,” He stated, an eyebrow raised, “Your heart shouldn’t be beating that fast. Do you know why that might be?”

His dark eyes looked into my own and I swallowed. “I...I just...”

“Yes?”

I looked at the floor, unable to say it while looking in his eyes, “It’s you.”

“Me? How’s that?” I saw from the corner of my eye a slight smirk growing on his face.

I looked into his dark eyes, “My heart is racing because you’re so close to me.”

“Tell me, then. Would it beat faster if I got even closer?”

Stethoscope still on my chest, he leaned down, his lips almost touching my own.

The man let out a deep laugh, much deeper than his speaking voice, “I was correct.”

I was barely able to speak when my eyes drifted to his lips, “It’ll beat even faster if you kiss me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It is.”

Wooyoung grabbed my cheek with his free hand and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine. He didn’t have to tell me that my heart was racing. I could feel it. I could feel my heart rate increasing the longer his lips touched mine. My hands wrapped around his neck, hands running through his thick hair and pulling it slightly. He bit my bottom lip in response and I whimpered into the kiss, pulling him even closer.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

I pulled his hair a bit harder and he groaned against my lips. As if he just remembered the stethoscope, he broke the kiss to pull it away from my chest, removing it from his ears and tossing it on the nearby table.

I giggled and he smiled at me, placing his hands on either side of the chair I was sitting in. Leaning in closer he teased my lips with his, giving me a slight peck before kissing down my jaw to my neck. I reached for his coat and hurriedly removed it from his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to get him undressed.

Gasping for air I grabbed at his hair once more, desperately needing to hear him groan again and he didn’t disappoint. His hands danced to my sweater, slightly lifting it.

“I hate to say it, because I’m really enjoying this, but you are on the clock.”

“Fuck it.” he growled, “I don’t have any patients scheduled today and I work harder than anyone here. I want this if you do.”

“I really do. Fuck me, Wooyoung.”

Without hesitation he pulled my sweater and bra over my head, leaving kisses all over my chest.

“Help me take off your pants, bunny.”

I whimpered, “Yes doctor.”

“Shit that’s hot.” He leaned in close to my ear, “Say it again. Doctor’s orders.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.” I pulled my pants down and threw them across the room.

Wooyoung’s hands teasingly ran up and down my thighs, making me shiver.

“You’re insanely gorgeous.” He growled into my ear.

I couldn’t come up with a solid response, my desire speaking for me, “It’s your turn, doctor. Off with the shirt.”

He made a dramatic flair of pulling his shirt slowly over his head, my eyes growing hazy while looking at his perfectly defined abs.

“Fuck.”

A cocky look formed on his face as he watched my eyes scan over him, soon after lifting me from the chair to the exam table.

He ran a digit along my clothed clit, prompting my back to arch off the table. I grabbed his arms and pulled him towards me, hips bucking into his, the friction setting my body on fire.

He groaned, head falling back as his body gave into his pleasure. Before long he was pulling down my soaked panties and leveling his face with my core.

“Don’t.” I said through heavy breaths, earning a concerned look from Wooyoung, “I want you in me now.”

His eyes widened, “Shit I don’t have a condom.”

I pulled him closer to me, “I’ve been on the pill for several months don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” The genuine concern in his eyes currently outweighing the lust I could see behind them.

“I promise.”

The lust returned to his eyes and I couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. The rest of his clothes were discarded in a hurry, his member then lining up with my core.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop, okay?”

His consideration made me smile, knowing full damn well I wouldn’t want him to stop. “I will. You too.”

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle and entered me slowly. I felt my eyes close as I focused on the feeling of him inside me, feeling out of breath already. I moaned as he pulled out slightly and rammed his hips back into mine.

“You like this?” He growled, “Knowing that anyone could catch us?”

I nodded, letting out quiet whimpers as I gasped for air. His speed was quick and hard, hitting every spot inside me my fingers could never reach.

“What a dirty girl you are.”

My walls clenched around him as tears welled in my eyes from the stimulation, my moans gradually getting louder without my control.

He leaned closer to me, “Quiet, sweetheart. Can’t let everyone here know what we’re up to, can we?”

I whimpered as he picked up speed and I forced my eyes open, needing nothing more than to see him. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed, and his hair was sporadically sticking to his forehead. He looked godly.

“You look so beautiful under me, taking me so well,” He said through half-lidded eyes, “How are you feeling, love?”

I whined at the pet name and clenched around him. He groaned and I brought myself to speak, “I feel f-full, doctor.”

Wooyoung nuzzed my neck, placing a few kisses upon my skin, and I felt my high approaching.

“Touch me, please.” I pleaded.

He complied, teasingly running his fingers along my clit and I felt sparks of pleasure shoot through me.

“Are you gonna cum, baby girl? Be my good girl and cum for me.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning loudly as I came, feeling Wooyoung release at the same time. He stilled, watching me catch my breath as he did the same.

“Pretty sure I just broke several medical moral codes but damn I don’t regret a minute of that.”

I hid my face in his chest, face heating up, “Me either.”

He pulled out of me and I pouted at the loss of feeling him.

“We just had sex and you’re still needy?”

“Listen, you just feel good inside of me.”

He leaned over me a gave me a long, sweet kiss, “You feel pretty good around me, yourself.”

Wooyoung pulled back and reached for his boxers, putting them on before grabbing some paper towels and cleaning me up. “Get dressed, doll.”

I nodded and slowly slipped my clothes on, legs feeling wobbly. He noticed and smiled at me, fully dressed now.

“Well,” He started, “I think we should exchange numbers in case you experience more migraines. We’ll have to monitor that, of course.” His eyes twinkled.

“Ah yes, of course.” I giggled, handing over my phone.

I watched his fingers glide over the keyboard, my eyes once more trailing down his chest, unable to forget how good he looked shirtless.

Without looking up he spoke, his voice lighthearted, “I can see you, you know.”

“No you can’t.” I teased.

He laughed and handed over his phone for me to do the same. “I can write you a prescription if you feel like that’s something you need. Have you tried over the counter medicine?”

I chuckled and he gave me a questioning look. “It’s just that the conversation took a different direction than I was expecting. But no, I haven’t.”

Wooyoung nodded, “I would recommend that you start with Ibuprofen and if that doesn’t work, let me know and we can prescribe you a stronger medicine, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

A silence fell over us. Noticing my nervousness, Wooyoung pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, “I need to go, but I’ll call you, okay?”

I gave a shy nod and bit my lip.

“Do you like coffee by any chance?” He questioned as he ran a hand through my hair. I welcomed his touch, leaning closer to him.

“Love it, why?”

“I say we meet up at a coffee shop soon. I’ve got a particular one in mind and I think you’ll really like it.”

I smiled, beyond happy to know he wanted to see me again, “Works for me.”

-

“So it went pretty well, I think.”

“Good, have you been feeling better?” Hongjoong asked later in the week.

“Much.” I bit my lip, looking down, “I’ve got a date later today.”

“What? With who?” Hongjoong asked with a smile, genuinely happy for me.

“Um...the doctor I saw earlier this week.” I scratched the back of my head.

“Oh my god you do not.”

“I do. I really like him.” I confessed, “We’ve been texting a lot.”

“Damn.” He shook his head, “That’s definitely a surprise but I’m happy for you girl. You know, why don’t you head out early? Our shifts are almost over anyways and I can finish up anything you’ve still got to do.”

“No I can’t ask you to do that!”

“I insist. Go ahead.” Hongjoong all but pushed me out of the office, sending me on my way and wishing me luck.

I waved back at him, thanking him again before leaving the building. I hopped in my car and drove off, feeling happiness bubble in my chest.

I took a step into the cute coffee shop, looking around at the full tables before locking eyes with Wooyoung. His eyes sparkled with the same playful look as I remembered. I walked over to where he was sitting and took the chair across from him.

“Hey,” He smiled wide.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you gonna order anything?”

“Maybe in a bit. I wanna spend time with the handsome man in front of me first.”

A slight red dusted his ears as he tried to laugh away his shyness. “How’ve your migraines been?”

“Honestly, I haven’t had any since I saw you last.”

He cocked his head. “Wonder what could’ve fixed that?”

I bit my lip, meeting his eyes, “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Incredible. This is a medical breakthrough. I can just imagine the medical articles.” Wooyoung raised a hand, moving it in the air as he spoke, “Sex cures chronic migraines, experiments suggest.”

I laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

“What? Am I wrong?” He said with a mischievous smile.

I quirked a brow, “I think we should probably conduct more experiments though, right? In the name of science.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “You make a compelling argument. I think I have to agree. My place after this?”

“Absolutely.”

-

Final Note: Listen I know Wooyoung probably should have actually prescribed y/n something for her migraines but it’s to further the plot okay please understand—

#atzinc #ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez imagines #fluff #kpop fluff #doctor au #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung au #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung smut

[keorami]

So you know when you wanna write a funny situation but you realise that you have to come up with said funny situation? Yeah... I forgot that my sense of humor is atrocious, but at least I tried...? I couldn't focus on one long story so I decided to write several short ones instead! Hope you enjoy!

"I have the feeling you're not enjoying this sleepover very much."

Dream did not, in fact, enjoy this 'sleepover', because not only did it remind him that his only way out of this hell was stuck in here with him, but said way out had been nothing but insufferable since he got here.

"Is this about the bell-"

"You could have gotten us out of here."

Oh yeah, said way out also wasted their one chance at escaping on a fucking bell. Dream hadn't felt such anger in... he doesn't remember actually. He didn't get to feel angry often in here.

"Listen, it was a very important matter-"

He stopped listening at that point. It was the same tirade every time about clout and viewership and whatever that he honestly could care less about. Staring at and counting the cracks in the obsidian seems like a very interesting activity.

"Hey, are you listening?"

1... 2... 3...

"Dude."

4... 5... 6...

"How long are you gonna ignore me?"

7... 8- wait, didn't he count that one already?

"Look at me at least."

No, he doesn't think he will. Because then the bell will be within view, and Dream knows that if he wasn't so pathetically weak, either the bell or Techno would have been thrown into the lava by now. But he is, so he'll throw the next best thing: his body. And fuck whatever the pig might have to say about it.

"Dreeeeeam-"

"WHAT."

He whipped his head so fast his neck hurt a little. He was fully prepared to... well now he doesn't remember, because of all faces he expected Techno to make...

The fuckboy face wasn't one of them.

"Nooo don't be angry, you're so sexy haha."

Oh God, he just died and went to limbo didn't he?

He wasn't sure when exactly he collapsed on the floor, gasping for air in a mix of wheezes and coughing, but Techno was now hovering over him in panic.

"Dream please don't die, I don't want the last thing you ever saw to have been that face-"

Oh, if there was one thing he would make sure not to forget, it would have been that face.

~~~~~

"Man, I'm starving. When do we get food in here again?"

"Um, I don't know really. I guess whenever Sam is in the mood?"

"What."

"Yeah."

Sam hasn't dropped food a single time since he was locked in here. Well, add 'food' to the basic human rights Dream isn't getting. They're really treating this like a bucket list aren't they?

"It's... You'll get used to it."

Dream gives him some potatoes from his inventory, to Techno's absolute delight. At least Sam has great taste, he'll give him that. But...

"...They're raw."

"Well, obviously."

Listen. He loves potatoes. He'd say he loves them to death, if he could die. No matter how you cook them, they turn out delicious. But raw? He'd only eat them raw if it was a life-or-death situation AND he somehow had no source of heat at his disposal, and the likelihood of that situation happening is practically zero. So yeah, he doesn't like to eat them raw.

"And that's all you get?"

"If you can't eat it-"

Ah, those famous words. Now, he's fairly certain that Dream didn't mean it as a challenge, but at this point Techno is just too competitive to see it any other way. Look, you don't get to his level by being passive, okay? So it's perfectly reasonable.

What wasn't reasonable was the taste of this potato because what in the Blood God's name is this.

"What the hell is this."

"...A potato?"

"No, this is a fucking travesty."

And what a sight it was, the Technoblade swearing and ranting about potatoes, of all things. Dream could only last until "mossy cobblestone tastes better than this dry ass, stinky ass garbage" before he lost it. You gotta give him credit for lasting this long at least. Technoblade was too busy ranting to care either way.

~~~~~

This can't be happening.

"Dream."

"What."

He tries to sound neutral, but Techno can hear the snicker in his voice.

"You don't have to do this."

Surely he can reconsider-

"On the contrary, it has to be done."

Dream places a single card on the pile, which happens to be his last one. A Wild Draw 4, to rub salt into the wound. Techno decides that ending on that card should be illegal.

"Remember the deal. No bell for the rest of the day."

"NOOOOOOO!"

Unfortunately, that had been the condition he had to agree to in order to get Dream to play. Because apparently he was "ringing it all the fucking time and it was driving me crazy". There's that, and the threat that Dream would jump in the lava again if he refused. So clearly he had a choice in the matter.

He knew that there was a chance he could lose... but he had deemed it low enough to ignore it. How could he not expect the resident chessmaster of the SMP to utterly trounce him in UNO? He was a fool, and now he has to think about how to make up for the lost clout and money.

At least, judging from the quiet snickers, someone finds his misery funny. He finds consolation in knowing that he may have lost the battle but he won the war. In a way.

~~~~~

"So I almost got mauled to death but that was how I met Steve."

Dream stares at him the way Phil does when he does something particularly outlandish and he fails to see why.

"Can I ask a question."

"Sure."

"Why would the first thing you do upon running into a starving polar bear be hugging it?"

Of course he would question it, because obviously Techno's superior intellect is confusing to the common mind. He just really likes animals, okay? Steve's fur looked so soft and fluffy he just had to touch it, he almost got his face torn off and Phil never let him live that down. But he'll sooner accept governments than let Dream know that. He doesn't want to embarrass himself too much.

"See Dream, I live by a simple philosophy."

"Long live anarchy?"

"No. Well yes, but not just that."

Dramatic silence.

"Any animal is huggable if you aren't a coward."

Dream chokes on his potato, the only one he had eaten today, and Techno worries for a second before he realises that Dream is actually laughing.

"Tech- what-" His body is shaking. "-what is wrong with you??"

"It all started when I was born-"

~~~~~

And it's enough to send Dream rolling on the ground. It wasn't even that funny, but he supposes that prison does a number on you, and Dream's sense of humor was already terrible to begin with.

...Okay, now he had to make sure that the teletubby didn't laugh himself to death.

At the end of the day- at least Techno assumes it's the end of the day, he doesn't know how trustworthy his internal clock is anymore- the two inmates of Pandora's Vault are about ready to fall asleep, but Techno has one last thing to do before that.

"Dream, come here for a minute."

Said man gives him such a wary look that he almost feels insulted.

"...Why?"

"I won't bite, ya know."

"That's... debatable."

Bruh.

"Just get over here."

And Dream complies without any further complaints. Techno hopes he didn't sound too harsh, but his cellmate wasn't shivering uncontrollably, so he thinks he's in the clear.

"What?"

Techno lays his cape down on the very uncomfortable obsidian floor. Seriously, laying down for an hour is enough to make his joints ache. 0/10 would not recommend. How did Dream- right, he doesn't have a choice.

"What are you doing?"

"Making this prison less of a living hell. Come lay down."

"...I'm fine."

Why are you being so difficult, Techno wants to ask, even though he can guess the answer. When was the last time anyone did something remotely nice for him without any catch? Especially in here?

"Stop being difficult and sleep with me already."

Silence.

"...Pft."

"You know what I meant."

In his defense, everyone has their moments, and his usually don't happen that often.

"Stop being so difficult and-"

"Just... get over here. My cape is really soft."

"Is that why you wear it all the time?"

"...Among other things."

But mostly because it was really soft.

Dream still seemed apprehensive about the whole thing, and while usually Techno would have respected his wishes and left him be... the sight of his rival curling up in a corner of the cell, obviously trying to not aggravate his injuries as he did, was saddening even to him. Prime, he's really not good at this... but Dream probably definitely needs it.

So he pulls his roommate into a side hug, which is honestly the best he can manage without ruining his image. It's awkward, Dream is way too stiff, and maybe now would be the time to say something before embarrassment kills either or both of them. Something reassuring, comforting to help Dream relax in his presence for example.

"This is gonna be the best sleepover you've ever had."

...But the day he stops relying on humor for any kind of social interaction is the day it'll either stop working or get him killed.

"...This is so stupid."

And today was not that day.

Dream lets out a laugh, shaky but genuine, and relaxes. Techno sees that as a win. Since he's stuck here for a while, might as well make his favorite teletubby's life in here more bearable.

And it's finally over! It only took me... *looks at calendar* ...time is an illusion. Idk if I'm really happy with this, but on the bright side, it's... done? Now I really wanna continue that endersmile fanfic as I got some ideas, hopefully it won't take as long? God I am a writing disaster

Also if you saw any mistakes... no you didn't :)

#dreblr #technoblr #rivalsblr #rivals duo #keo's writing #techno angrily ranting about potatoes is hilarious to me #i hc him as being very passionate about them #so he takes them very seriously #look everyone portrays c!techno as this calm and collected warrior #he farmed potatoes for 14 hours straight he definitely has dumbass energy #tfw you don't know how to be funny

[jinkicake]

Meow~

The Third Gym Squad with a s/o who loves cats and has catlike traits/habits.

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Hi Anon~~ I hope this is good,,, I kinda wanted to learn more about the catlike traits so I read a few articles about similar traits in humans and cats. That’s why there are traits under each clown because it goes with the scenario I wrote for them..... I hope that makes sense. LOL My friend also loves cats and I think that quirk of hers is really cute!!! 

p.s. I’m updating my masterlist tonight so I won’t be doing any #/sarahtalksshit LMFAO,,, I’ll come back in the morning and check my asks!!! 

WC- 1,903

~~~

Akaashi Keiji

Timeskip Akaashi is literally a cat dad, you can’t tell me he isn’t a cat person 

Please you guys would totally have cats together, you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t have like three cats

You two would have the perfect cat family </333

Akaashi would always get you cute little cat accessories,,, if he sees a keychain with a cat he snatches it and gets it for you 

Maybe he would get one for himself because it reminds him of you </3

You might have to fight your cats for Akaashi’s attention,,, be prepared

Akaashi loves when your cats randomly cuddle up to him like when they are in the mood for his attention, he loves that and will happily give them all his affection so yeah.... you are gonna be jealous of some cats that’s for damn sure

He is like here is my love,,, my snuggles and kisses~ 

And you’re standing there in the corner like.... Keiji where is my kisses? 

You’d be the type of s/o who really helps Akaashi relax,,, he feels calm with you and it’s probably because he trusts you so much!!!

Agreeableness

“I want attention, give me attention.” You throw yourself across Akaashi’s lap, already making demands for him to satisfy your needs. Akaashi glances down at you, holding his phone out of the view of your face. He taps the tip of your nose with his finger and smiles while his eyes soften. 

“Hmm, what do you want?” He asks playfully and you turn your nose up at him, Akaashi simply leans down to kiss your cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, his phone starts to go off with a text from Bokuto. “Want to go eat somewhere in Shin Okubo?” 

You take your time to mentally think about it.

“With?” You pause cautiously and Akaashi shows you the text, clearly from his captain. “Omg yeah, let’s go! Do you want to go?” 

Akaashi presses his face into your shoulder, preparing for the mess that goes down whenever you and Bokuto hang out.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” He smiles and you have a slight feeling that it might be forced. “You guys always have so much fun together.”

“Keiji, are you jealous?” Your mouth falls agape but your boyfriend shakes his head, disagreeing with your question.

“No, but you guys get along really well.” He pouts and you blink at him.

“So you’re jealous?” You ask again and Akaashi refuses it once more.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Maybe.” He sighs and you cheer as you know you’ve won. 

Bokuto Koutarou 

Bokuto is literally a dog, scratch that. He is literally a puppy

He is so energetic, the two of you were like opposites attract

It’s that cute didn’t get along at first but now you can’t get enough of each other and are always seen cuddling type of relationship

I feel like Bokuto and cats would not get along at first either, even your own cats, he would have to become a cat person

He just wants to cuddle them right away and hug them but it’s like Bokuto.... cats don’t really like affection like that

You’d probably break his heart by telling him that

Bokuto wants to show them how much he loves them!!!! He would definitely support you getting cats, he would be soooo excited

When you guys get an apartment and move in together, he will decorate it with cat furniture like a cat clock and cat mugs 

Your favorite things have become his favorite things

Bokuto is a very sweet boyfriend, I’ve said it five million times before,,,, he is very attentive and always takes care of you 

Impulsiveness

“Come on, let’s go out!” Bokuto tugs on your ankle, trying to pull you off the bed. You simply ignore him, rolling your eyes and tossing the blanket over your head. “Please, it’s so nice out.” He begs and pulls you harder causing half your body to fall off the bed.

“No.” You narrow your eyes and climb back onto the bed, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. Bokuto sulks and lays down next to you, throwing an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. 

The two of you lay like there for another hour and Bokuto successfully falls asleep. You internally coo at how cute he is and take a picture of him before placing your phone down beside you. After unwrapping the blanket from around your body, you swing one of your legs over his waist and sit upon his hips.

“Kou,” You lean down and whisper, poking at his cheek gently. “wake up.” Bokuto stirs slightly, not at all giving you the attention you want. “Wake up!” You whine louder this time and lightly pat his cheek. “I want to go out now, Koutarou!” 

Bokuto’s eyes flutter open, he blinks a few times while trying to shake the sleep out of him, and he manages to say one thing.

“Babe, now you want to go out?”

Kuroo Tetsurou 

Truthfully I had been thinking about this one as I was mentally planning out how each mf would react…. Is Kuroo a cat or a dog?

Because when you think about it,,, it’s like duh you dumb bitch he’s a cat but…. But hear me out….. Kuroo would be a FANCY Doberman pincher you know? 

Much like Bokuto, I think he would want to give cats all his love but he knows how they react and how they aren’t very affectionate

Good thing he has you because now,,, you’re going to get double his love because he can’t love on the cats.... Kuroo was already clingy in the first place....

If you get this man a sweater or hoodie with cats on it,, he will wear it proudly like that becomes a staple piece in his fashion

Whenever Kenma looks at him weird Kuroo tells it’s just because he’s jealous he doesn’t have a cat hoodie,,,, Kenma goes quiet because it is true

Kuroo would pick up on some of your traits easily because,,, Kenma. Pudding head is basically a cat, we know. I feel like I always bring up Kenma when I talk about Kuroo and it’s like well duh,,, they’re a package deal 

Kenma literally made Kuroo into the great boyfriend he is

Back to this. Cats sleep a lot, don’t they? Kuroo is always prepared for when you fall asleep in public, whether that be in class or on the train…. My man is prepared with his shoulder ready for you to sleep on 

Kuroo seems to be the type who is aware of his surroundings, especially if it is somebody he cares about…. Cue him growing up with Kenma,,, omg there I go again bringing in Kenma! Therefore,,, he will be oh-so-careful with you </333

Dominance

You narrow your eyes at the group of girls crowding around your boyfriend, the sight makes your blood boil. The way they stare up at him and purposely flirt with him, you can see it all. You try to calm yourself down, take a deep breath while momentarily closing your eyes. When you open them, they are still there. 

Those girls know Kuroo is dating you, everybody does. Yet, they still have the audacity to touch them as freely as they do even while Kuroo uncomfortably pushes them off. 

You stand up straight, rolling your shoulders back as you try to get your temper under control. The dominance is rolling off of you in waves but, when it comes to your boyfriend, you can’t help yourself. With the confidence only a bitch like yourself could have, you walk towards the group and purposely push yourself between Kuroo and the girl next to him. 

You glare at her and place your hand on his chest, staring all of them down as you wait for any of them to say anything. 

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. Now go run along and see if you can find any leftovers that still want you.” The insult flies past your lips and the girls gasp, their mouths falling open before they turn away and leave. Kuroo stares down at you, his eyebrows raised in disbelief and you innocently look back up at him. “What?”

“Nothing, kitten, that was fucking hot."

Tsukishima Kei 

Bruh, Tsukishima is a cat, you’re literally dating a cat

He seems like the more introvert type of cat like the ones who don’t like people and would rather stay home,,,,,

You two are a perfect fit, the judgmental couple that looks down at everyone HAHAH yeah you guys talk a lot of shit

I feel like there might be instances where one of you would try to be spontaneous and suggest going somewhere and then the other would just flame them and say what a terrible idea that is

Tsukishima has never asked if you wanted to go to McDonalds at 2am ever again,,,, you really have to kiss his ego after laughing at him 

You’re probably Tsukishima’s person, obviously if he is dating you, like you’re the only person he puts up with….. besides Yamaguchi,,,, of course

You know how Tsukki loves his little dinos? You love cats and he would probably think that is so fucking cute, is he ever going to tell you that? NO. 

Just know that he is thinking it and whenever he sees a cat he thinks of you and takes a picture of it to send to you because let’s face it. Tsukki is always thinking of you

Are cats sensitive? If they aren’t, let’s pretend they are for my Tsukki is sensitive statement because I am sidebar-ing for a second. That bitch is sensitive okay like you even graze your hand against his thigh and it’s like new ambition unlocked and by ambition,,, that means he wants to fuck you... This has nothing to do with the rest of this but I just wanted to put it out there

Tsukishima is the perfect protective, shit-talking boyfriend and honestly, as much as I say I dislike him…. I really do love him because he is the boyfriend I would want,,,, truly probably one of my top picks to be my boyfriend from the haikyuu clowns

Extraversion

“The losers wanted to know if you want to go to the festival this weekend,” Tsukishima throws out into the air randomly one afternoon. You glance up from your phone, lifting your head up from his chest as you try to guess his reaction. 

“What do you think?” You respond back with your full chest, eager to hear his response. 

“You think I want to go?” He snaps back and you have to refrain from flicking his glasses. 

“Well since you told me a few days before I think I can mentally prepare, can you?” Tsukishima winces at your words, he really does not want to hang out with the other first years this weekend. 

“I guess.” He mumbles and you sigh.

“We don’t have to, they know we keep to ourselves.” You try to remind him but Tsukishima continues to scroll through his phone, not looking at you. 

“That’s true.” You push yourself up and bring your chin to his chest to see what he is typing. He sends Hinata a maybe. “That’s enough socializing for the day.” Tsukishima tosses his phone somewhere else on his bed before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and burying his face into your neck.

“Can you imagine if one of us was extroverted?” You joke and your boyfriend lets out an audible groan.

“Don’t paint me such a nightmare.”

~

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee

#akaashi keiji x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

[hewwocopter]

As Fate Would Have It

MK has doubts about his soulmate, but he’s certain that it’ll work out for the best.

Until he meets him.

On Ao3 (2112 words)

Soulmates were thought highly of in society.

Their customs were normally respected. If one wanted to cover their soulmark with an article of clothing, so be it. It was for the owner’s eyes only.

It had led MK to cover his right wrist with a bandana not unlike his headband.

He knew what it said. Many nights had his fingers traced over the words, longing to hear his soulmate’s voice. Even if they were to yell at him.

Because, he presumed, that was probably what they were going to do, considering the nature of his sentence.

He laid in his bed, fiddling with the bandana. It had been a long day at work today, and it was still slightly damp from the sweat his arms had accumulated from noodle deliveries.

Ah, well.

MK slipped the band off, already knowing what he would see.

Get off me, you idiot!

What gratifying first words, right?

It seemed as though their relationship would have a rocky start. MK knew this, he was fine with it.

He was good at getting people to open up, Pigsy proved that fact. What once was a grumpy pig who nearly called the cops on MK for being too rambunctious in the streets…

Well…

Now he was a grumpy pig man who had hired that rambunctious street child. When the man saw that MK needed a place, he took him in.

So yeah, MK could probably handle his soulmate. Plus, they were his soulmate- the one destined for him. So they would eventually like each other, even if they started off hating each other, right?

There was always that small voice in the back of his head that told him to doubt. That no matter what, his soulmate would reject him. They would hate him. That his strength was also his weakness. MK’s energy was just too much, he was way too over the top.

But he had to keep hope. He seared that sentence into his brain, knowing that they were out there. That they were alive, and that there was hope.

…Probably.

A yawn edged its way up his throat, causing MK to stretch and fall back into his bed.

He’d just have to see how it went, he supposed. MK had no way of knowing for certain.

Deciding that his energy was best spent on sleeping instead of debating with himself, he set his Monkey King themed alarm clock to its usual time and slipped under the blankets, his eyes quickly sliding shut.

—

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

MK’s arms wobbled dangerously as he balanced precariously on the pipes of the sewer system.

Maniacal laughter echoed from beneath him, as green smoke erupted from the mountain. The Demon Bull King had been freed.

Son of a…

If his life were a show, this definitely would qualify as one of those record-scratch-freeze-frame moments, saying ‘hey, you’re probably wondering how I got here’.

He knew damn well how he got here. He was delivering noodles like a good delivery boy, although he was supposed to be on his break, which also begged the question:

Who ordered noodles in a sewer?! Where were the construction workers?!

How was he holding on this long?!

Although MK was surprised he hadn’t lost his grip yet.

The strange bird glanced over at him again, with a mischievous glint in its golden eyes.

His luck had been pushed to the limit with that last thought, it seemed.

He glowered, but wasn’t about to give up yet. MK waved the bird off. “No, shoo, go away!”

It hopped closer despite his warnings.

MK’s eyes only widened as what happened before him transpired in slow motion. The bird bent down and began to peck.

The incessant poking at his hand causing his grip to falter, and MK to become more panicked. Before he could shoo the bird away, he finally lost his grip and-

“No, no, no- aaaaaaaaugh!”

MK slipped.

Luckily his twenty to thirty foot fall was softened by his landing, which was on top of- oh, oh shit. He was going to die.

Before he could properly process that reaction, the giant Demon Bull King stomped up to him.

Their eyes gleamed an eerie green, casting a dark shadow onto his surroundings.

In this sort of situation, seeming it was a live or die one of the sort, MK decided he should probably de-escalate it. He let out a nervous chuckle, and lifted the noodle bag.

“Someone ordered some noodles?”

There was an awkward pause, as the villains stared at him, seemingly not expecting that reaction- they probably thought he’d be terrified- which he was, but sometimes his stupidity outweighed his sensibility.

A low growling rumbled from beneath, and MK flinched as the boy under him began to struggle, his hair flickering with flames.

“Get off me, you idiot!”

MK’s heart stopped, but only for a moment as he was sent flying and it was thumping wildly once more. While it was because of the actions occurring at the moment, what the boy- Red- had said also had a part in it.

Did he just-?

The boy tumbled to the ground, grunting.

“Do you know what you just did?” He turned to face MK fully, snarling. “You ruined my moment!”

MK could hardly process what the family was saying. Red Son- that was his name, probably- he had said what was on his wrist.

That right there was his soulmate.

He blinked, as a shadow was suddenly cast over him. MK visibly shrunk back as he saw that DBK was about to squish him, oh dear gods. All because he had zoned out over…

Speaking of. The boy slid in front of him, halting his father’s murder in progress. Thank goodness.

“Wait, father.” Red Son placed a hand on DBK’s heel, nudging him away.

MK’s eyes widened at the sight. Was he sparing him?

Then another stuttering thought.

Did he know?

He hadn’t said anything to the boy, had he? All he had done was scream so far.

“What is this?”

“Waste not your energy on this peasant. Please, allow me to show you how powerful I have become in your absence!”

MK drooped, and he nearly face-palmed. Great, so now my soulmate is going to kill me!

“As you wish.”

Well, fuck this. MK was going to escape, call the cops, then buy ice cream and cry over the fact that his soulmate was a villain. That probably hated him, considering the fact he was going to kill him.

MK turned away slowly, and began crawling away. Only halting at the sound of Red Son’s voice, internally cursing himself that he was caught.

“In some ways, you’re very fortunate, noodle boy.” Now Red Son was smiling, and were those fangs?

Oh gods, that was hot.

The thought ran through his mind a few more times before MK realized what it was, his face flaring red before he could stop it.

Are you kidding me?! Evil soulmate who hates me, and now I go and think he’s hot?!

No, no, he could not let himself get attracted to that. MK rapidly accelerated his inching away, only backwards now, only to bump into a pole, now lying discarded on the concrete.

A voice in the back of his mind whispered the truth of what it really was.

Monkey King’s staff…?

“Not many insects are lucky to be stamped out by the Demon Bull family-“ His eyes narrowed, probably at the boy’s expression which by now was a deep cherry red. “Are you even listening to me?!”

Yes and no. Red Son’s voice had no right being that hot, smoky yet matter of fact. But MK was too distracted by the staff, as well as escaping to properly pay attention to what he was articulating.

Where had these feelings even come from…?

The boy growled. “I, Red Son, will not be disrespected! You’re history!”

He raised his gauntlet, igniting it with his flames and rushed towards the delivery boy who was still stuck in his internal panic. MK’s eyes snapped up as he realized just what was going on.

Oh fuck-

MK instinctively grabbed the first thing near him- the staff- and raised it in front of him as his defense.

A loud clanging noise echoed throughout the chambers, along with a huge gust of wind.

“N-no way.” MK’s eyes peeked open upon hearing the other’s disbelief at him not being dead. “How could you possibly lift Monkey King’s staff?!” Red Son backed away from him, eyes wary but wide.

MK could only stare at the staff in awe, nothing else registering in his brain.

Red Son stammered. “I- I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m about to end it! That staff is mine!”

MK was snapped out of his trance at the appearance of the Bull clones and DBK. He let out a little whimper- one villain he could take on but fifty?! “I’m supposed to be on my breeEEEAAK!”

He swung the staff in a wide arc, a golden light erupting from the motion towards the enemies.

Through the brightness, MK saw Red Son’s expression pale, although that could have been the light. His mouth was slack jawed, eyes wide, and then he was struck with the incredible power of the staff, sent flying.

The bull clones retreated, but the superiors managed to stay standing. Oh crap, I just managed to piss off a bunch of powerful villains. I’m so dead.

“Aah,” He stumbled for an explanation, “That was way more explosive than I expected.” He then coughed, some of the soot (?) from the explosion (?!) having found its way onto his face.

A thud from Princess Iron Fan’s weapon caused the boy to jump. From her expression, he could tell that the woman was not happy.

MK gulped, and began to thrust the staff around wildly, hoping to scare her off. “Stay back! I don’t know how I’m doing this stuff!”

“That staff doesn’t belong to you, little boy. Hand it over.” Like a chiding mother to her child, the woman then held her hand out expectantly. Like she was expecting him to comply.

For a split-second, he considered it. Then promptly threw that thought out the window, because one- these people were villains, two- they were probably going to kill him either way, and three- it was Monkey King’s staff, how could he give it away?!

So MK wasn’t going to comply.

He grasped the staff protectively, holding it up against his cheek. “Mmm… no…?”

That was the moment when the staff chose to wobble, sticking itself into the ground which was absolutely not of MK’s volition that time. “Okay, I didn’t even move that ti-“

The next moment he was up in the air, the staff carrying him away, and all he could do was scream.

—

Red Son pushed some rubble off of himself, his mind still reeling.

“I’m supposed to be on my breeEEEAAK!”

The words replayed in his mind, although they were uttered only a few seconds ago. As Red rubbed at his head, still sore from where he had hit it against the wall, his eyes narrowed in thought.

He couldn’t believe it. The one who plagued his thoughts, the one whose words were written on his left shoulder… it was that stupid noodle boy?!

Son of a bitch.

Fate would have it be this way.

Red had to go after him. One, to beat the everloving shit out of the boy and get the staff. Two, to demand to know why it was him. Why the gods had chosen that stupid idiot for him.

Red Son didn’t need anyone. He had himself and his intelligence, and he deemed that enough. It would get him where he needed to be.

Red Son also wasn’t an idiot. He was a facts person, that much was true. He ran on logic, feelings were just icky and out of place. Predetermined love? Yeah, fuck that. He was his own person, Red Son didn’t need anyone to tell him who to love.

But he had to know.

Noodle Boy had answers.

He halted his father once more, who was in the middle of intensely describing how he would skin the noodle boy alive. “Father, allow me. I won’t fail you a second time.”

“See that you don’t.” He snarled. “My patience is past its end!”

“Of course, father.” Red Son vanished into a plume of fire, only to appear at his vehicle. He quickly hopped in and sped after the boy, already getting a reading on him on his radar.

He was going to get his answers, one way or another.

#d-does this count for red son week?????? #Monkie kid #writing #MK #Sun Wukong #Red Son #spicynoodleshipping #soulmates #one shot #unedited #cussing #humor #(?!) #posted 6/21/21 #hewwo writes

[xlehukax]

Still Beating Heart

Foreword: Hello! I’ve been working on this thing for a little while now, and it’s finally done! This fanfiction is set in the Pediatric Doctors AU that I made, that you can learn more about here.  It’s done in conjunction to writings by @eeveeeclair246​, to who has the first installment of this series, titled Inefficent Iron, which you can find here. And, if you don’t want to read on Tumblr, I get it! This will also be on Archives in a hot minute, so check my Masterpost for the link. Now, on with the show!

Ships: Roman x Virgil, Implied Remus x Logan

Word Count: 10215

Warnings: LANGUAGE, Alcoholism, Bars, Panic Attacks, Medical Issues (ie. weak hearts), Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Rape, that creeping feeling of regret. 

Summary: Virgil’s always been the quiet nurse, the prickly one, the don’t talk to me unless there’s an issue one. Roman’s fresh out of a relationship, and looking to go out on the town, and needs a friend to go along with. And Virgil can’t say no to his crush, even if they work in the same place. 

~~~~

It’s just another day at the office: by that, Virgil means, Patton’s handing out cookies, Logan’s being a work-aholic and refuses to let any of the patients go to Janus, in which is being very meticulous and annoyingly good at his job and refusing to let Virgil do his, Remus is going through the latest urine samples, and Roman is doing what Roman does best. Ranting about his latest breakup while painting his nails in the receptionist booth. 

And Virgil just happens to be the only one around, after Patton leads the last patient of the day to Logan and the waiting room finally empties. Virgil simply sighs in defeat, and tries to shrink into his nurse uniform. Let it be known, he did not choose to be there. Or ever.

“Emo, are you even listening?” 

“Yup, yes, I am, absolutely,” 

“Alright, just had to make sure, you know, you tend to ignore me, which you’d think is impossible but you never cease to surprise me in that regard. Anyway, so this guy, Ethan- total dreamboat, eyes bluer than you’d ever believe. So I met him on this app, and we went for drinks a few weeks ago: and thirty minutes in, I’m in love. He’s a painter. Sweetest guy- we end up at his apartment, and you know- but I was in it for the long haul. Virgil, I was really ready for a long-term with this guy. He seemed  like he was down for it too… and then, just yesterday, you know what I found in his apartment?” 

“Another person,” Virgil sighs.

“Some floozy, blond and covered in hickeys, and Ethan painting her. Like, I didn’t know what to be more offended about: the fact that he cheated on me or that he doesn’t have a sexy painting of me!” 

“Mhmm…” Virgil’s almost fallen asleep, and doesn’t even notice Roman hovering utop him until he’s right in his face. 

“Virgil-” Roman shouts, and Virgil startles right into Roman’s arms. Which he now is realizing quite quickly are not just incredibly strong because they hold his weight easily, but landing their faces inches apart. Virgil sucks in a gasp- Roman smirks. “Hey there… you know, you’re not too bad looking yourself. Under all that makeup, you’re quite the princess, aren’t you?” It takes Virgil a moment to craft a response, he’s so scatterbrained and blushing. 

“Fuck off Princey, I’m not your latest conquest,” Virgil hisses, still a large flush on his features. Roman flicks his nose. 

“Yeah, but you’re still cute. Maybe I should date you~” 

“In your fucking dreams- you cycle through boyfriends so fast, I’ll be dust in the wind,” 

“Hmm,” Roman still hasn’t let Virgil go, and it is not helping the warmth in his face whatsoever, “Can’t argue with that.” And then Virgil is unceremoniously dumped onto the chair he was sitting in, with Roman towering above him. Did he always have those pretty eyes? He’s got these fantastically plump lips, it really shows when he’s smirking like that. And that hair is quite… quite royal-  now that he’s looking at it- 

Bloody hell, stop, now’s not the time to fawn, Virgil curses at himself. Virgil has always been introverted, and this- this interaction, Roman’s boldness with him… it’s completely unfamiliar. A bold move, reaching into his space, completely ignoring all of the protective glares and hisses that Virgil had in place. Disregarded his shields completely. Virgil has been harboring a bit of an infatuation with this confident musical wonder as of late, and this is not helping matters. Roman chuckles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well, J.Delightful, now I simply must make use of this situation,” 

“What are you getting at-” Virgil snarls, to which Roman simply grins widely.

“You’re going to be my new wingman. There’s a open mic at a gay bar I frequent, and if I’m going to find somebody, then I need someone else to be my safety buddy. You know, watch for creepy old men who hit on me and all that jazz,” Roman pushes, eyes alight with excitement, “Patton won’t go with me anymore because he doesn’t like the loud noises, Logan doesn’t drink, I’m not asking Janus to come he’ll scare them all away or steal the attention, and Remus- well, you can probably guess why not Remus, and it’s not because people approach us because we’re twins. I can’t believe I’ve never asked you to come with me! It’ll give us some good outside of work bonding time too. Isn’t it great?” 

“I don’t want to,” Virgil grumbles. Roman tuts. 

“Oh come on now- am I so hard to be around?” No, Virgil thinks, and that’s the problem. “Pfft, if it’s really so hard, I’ll just cave and bring around someone else.” 

“No…” Virgil whispers, so quiet that he’s sure it’s nearly silent, and Roman’s eyebrow perks up. 

“Hmm? Was that a no I just heard?” 

“I just- I’m not good in social situations, do you even really want me there? I’ll probably just screw your chances, scare people off,” 

“Perfect! I’ll need someone to scare someone off,” 

“But- I’ll damper on your fun,” 

“Never! You will never cease to be fun to poke fun at,” 

“I don’t know, Princey. You really want me there?” Virgil says, looking away and speaking in hushed tones still. Roman grabs his pale hands, squeezing them tightly. 

“I need you, Virge,” Roman purrs. Virgil blushes harder, somehow, and tucks his head into his shoulder and murmurs his agreement. Damn it. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up at 9, how does that sound?” 

“Wait, tonight?” Virgil squawks. Roman drops his hands, blessedly, and steps back from him shrewdly. Smart, as Virgil’s immediate response is to throw a punch. Roman easily sidesteps. 

“Oh, yes- did I not mention that? Tonight. It’s Friday,” Roman nods, smiling wickedly. Oh my god, I need to bathe, I need to find something nice-ish to wear, unearth my good eyeshadow, fuck it all I need new skin- 

“Hey, hey, don’t freak. You don’t have to get all fancy for me: wear what makes you comfortable, and I’ll stop by your apartment at 9,” 

“Wait a second- how do you know where I live?” Virgil says, suddenly horrified. Roman snickers. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, yes I would,” Virgil growls. 

“Pfft, I need to know everyone’s addresses, I’m the receptionist, Virge. It’s my job,” Roman scoffs. Virgil blushes: well, now he feels foolish. But it reminds him: Roman and himself work together. It doesn’t matter if something comes out of this, as it is- Remus and Logan are constantly being sickeningly cute around the office. The real problem is if he screws this up, and still has to go to work with him the next day. This is a really bad idea. But… When will he have another golden opportunity like this one? 

“Okay, okay- 9, right?”

“Yes! Thank you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance- you’re going to have so much fun. I’ll sing a song just for you, as thanks,” Roman grins cheekily, Virgil blows the hair out of his eyes, attempting nonchalant despite the whirlwind of anxiety confined within. 

“Alright, fine, whatever. Should I- should I dress a certain way? Wait, is there a dress code? How much money should I bring? Is it credit or cash? Do they have food there? Will I have to dance?” Virgil shudders at the thought of dancing, even with Roman, who is currently blinking rapidly under the onslaught of questions. 

“Okay erm, just dress how you normally do? Scratch that, a peg hotter than a hoodie, thank you. No dress code, have you ever been to a bar? Just bring your wallet, think about how many drinks you want, and I’m dancing whether you’re going to or not, so-” 

Virgil takes notes internally, already too worried about this whole ordeal. He should really just cancel, say he just remembered something, but he knows he’ll regret that later. Either way, the only other thing he’s doing tonight is hanging with his spider, Missy, and watching Unsolved Mysteries. So…

“I’ll- I’ll see you later then, Princey,” Virgil murmurs, before gathering the few things he has around him and breezing past whilst trying to make it appear like he’s not running away. 

“See you!! At least pretend to be excited- It’s going to be one hell of a night, Virge- you won’t regret this!” 

As Virgil silently clocks out (Patton will take over the end of the day nurse activities, it’s fine) he thinks to himself, I certainly hope not. 

~~~~~

And then, it’s already 8:50, too soon. Virgil showered, twice, because the first time he used his usual unscented body wash for work and not the one that smells like lavender and violets and by jove Roman inviting him out after work deserves more than unscented. Then the clothes resulted in a mini fashion show in front of the mirror for an hour, where upon he finally settled on a black button down over a grey undershirt with some black ripped jeans (it took him another 25 minutes to decide on mostly untucked in a ‘I just threw this on’ careless feel), and his favorite purple and black hoodie just in case it got cold… of which he ended up shivering right away anyhow and put it on anyway. 

And then a whole other hour on makeup: a very tasteful black eyeliner and purple and black smokey eye with just a hint of dark glitter. Some lipstick, and a little dust on his cheekbones, and Virgil finally felt confident, an emotion that lasted all of ten minutes when he realized that he hadn’t chosen a pair of shoes yet. 

The shoes took another thirty minutes alone. And then the idea of changing his hair up a little occurred to him, and that was another hour wasted that ended with keeping his regular low-hanging hair anyway. 

And now he’s trying not to look like he’s waiting, because he doesn’t want to be waiting on Roman, but he needs to see if his car comes up, but he doesn’t want to be desperate, so he’s panicking slightly in his apartment with all the lights off because he was going to leave and now he’s freaking out instead, because he doesn’t know if it’s more appropriate to wait for Roman to text him that he’s outside and head downstairs after that or to just head downstairs now like a normal person or maybe he just shouldn’t go. His head slowly stops pounding, and his breath evens out, the oncoming anxiety attack fading away with the thought. Yeah, maybe Virgil can stay home instead- there’s too many variables anyway. 

When Virgil was young, he was always making decisions like this. He was sick, not like crazy-sick, but sick. Anemia, coupled with coronary heart disease, topped off with bronchitis. He had weak lungs, weak heart, weak blood- his whole body was frail, and sometimes his blood didn’t move around fast enough to make him work right. There was no running around, no nothing: he was constantly worried about every little thing, because his parents were. Did you take your pills today? How was your bloodwork? Are you feeling woozy? Until Virgil just stopped leaving the house whatsoever. It was just easier. There was no chance of passing out while crossing a street and getting run over, never going to embarrass himself at school by having a heart attack… 

And wouldn’t you know, staying at home made him only sicker. No muscle mass whatsoever, pale as a ghost, always so cold, so frail from not getting enough nutrients. His parents made the best decision of their lives and set him down the path that led him here by… by hiring a nurse. A kind nurse, with funny jokes and encouragement, who helped him go outside for the first time in months. Who taught him little things to make him stronger, like light weights. Virgil grew out of his heart disease, and though he still had bronchitis and anemia, he regularly took medications which made them easy to handle. And just like that, Virgil was no longer sickly (at least externally, he still had anxiety, but he’s managing it). Then he was a normal teenager, who wanted to be strong enough to help someone in the same way that nurse had. 

 Here Virgil is now- and he’s not going to fall into that same loop he was in as a kid. He’s better now, medicating only when needed. Virgil is all lean-muscle, and he’s better than his anxiety. He can totally go on a date-not-a-date with his crush to a gay karaoke bar. Totally. Taking a deep breath, Virgil checks his phone (which is fully charged with two mini backup batteries on his keys tucked into his back pocket) and realizes with horror that Roman texted a whole six minutes ago while Virgil was panicking that he was waiting downstairs.

“Shit!” Virgil slams his door, and just runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator (he only lives on the fourth floor anyway, because anything higher than like 10 fire ladders can’t get to and there’s a 50% possibility of surviving a fall from four stories), and hopes his meticulous makeup job isn’t ruined. By Roman’s expression, he doesn’t think it did- 

He had been grinning teasingly, mouth open to say some quip, but his jaw goes slack when he sees Virgil. Roman’s eyes are wide, leaning up against his red car, as he watches Virgil stop by the curb only a few feet in front of him. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Virgil… you look- damn. Wowza, do you clean up nice,” Roman falls over his words, making Virgil flush. Roman thinks I look good- I did good, it’s all good. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Princey,” Virgil whispers. Because really, he doesn’t: Roman’s white dress shirt has the top two buttons undone, showing off his pectorals and just a hint of his abs, and some nice pants. His hair is done over to the side, and one crown earring hangs from an ear. It’s really a delightful look, but makes Virgil feel out of place with his dark clothes and his heavy makeup. Roman only has a light bit. “Did I go overboard? I can- I can wash it off,” Virgil asks, hating that he’s offering to change this intensive and difficult look for a stupid guy.

“No, no- you look gorgeous. Seriously Virge, you should do my makeup. Like, I feel outdone, and I never feel that way! Come on, get on in, let’s go,” Roman shoos Virgil into the car, where he feels just as much if not more awkward. Still, he’s excited, out of this world excited: Roman likes how he looks. Roman finds him attractive, and they’re going to the club, together. 

Not together, Virgil- you’re just his buddy. Virgil has to remind him that this is not a date, that he’s gotten all worried and dressed up for sitting at a bar and watching Roman flirt with other men. It makes his heart ache, but at least they’re together now .

“We’re almost there, Emo. You ready to have a good time?” 

“I uh- erm, I mean. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll have fun sitting in the corner doing fucking nothing, that’s what I’m ready for,” Virgil’s suddenly defensive and feels horrible about the crude outburst. 

“Oh my- Virge, do you not want to go? I don’t want to force you into anything!” No, I do, I do! 

“Eh, it’s whatever. I got all dressed up, be a shame to not go out. I just- I don’t like to- I’m-” 

“I know you don’t like being left alone! Don’t worry, I’ll be close by the whole time. I’ll watch you if you watch me, yeah?” 

“Why are you so worried about being watched? You’ve clearly been to a lot of these things…” Virgil changes the subject to hide his flush at Roman’s empathy for him. 

“Ah, well- I have been to a lot of these things, and I’ve had some… unfavorable experiences. A few times now, guys have put stuff in my drinks, or waited for me to get drunk and then take me home. It’s… it’s not what I want. I go to meet new people, not to get a one-night stand that I didn’t want. They don’t make me feel good. I hate it,” Roman growls at the road, and Virgil makes what might be a rash decision and places his long pale hands on Roman’s tanned worn ones by the gearshift. Roman looks over at him, and Virgil ducks his head. Roman smiles. 

“I’ll watch out for you, I promise. I don’t really drink either, ‘cuz of my blood issues, so I can drive home too,” Virgil murmurs, still looking away. Roman moves his hand around, grips his tightly. Virgil doesn’t look at it, but knows they’re intertwined, and it makes his head hurt. 

“Thank you, Virge. Aaand, we’re here,” the bar is bright in the dark evening, a neon sign advertising it, and Roman pulls into a parking space behind the building. He takes his key, and reaches out to put it in Virgil's pocket. “Don’t trust myself to hand em over, this thing’s my baby. I’m trusting you, though, and you gotta be good about that, alright?” 

Virgil nods, and allows Roman to exit the car and help him out the other side. Roman throws his arm over Virgil’s shoulders, and saunters into the bar. As expected, it is loud. Someone’s already singing, a song by Chicago, and is doing pretty okay. There are bright lights here and there, some spots illuminated completely and others in darkness. There’s a whole load of people here too: some make eyes at him as he walks in. Virgil sticks to Roman, who chuckles, as they both head to the bar. The bartender seems to recognize Roman. 

“Here for the open mic, are you, King?” 

“You know it! Sign me right on up,” Roman laughs. Roman’s arm drops from Virgil’s shoulders. The bartender rolls his eyes, swipes some green dyed locks from his vision and writes Roman’s name on a pad. 

“What song are you singing?” 

“It’s a surprise, like usual, Vincent, I don’t know why you even bother asking,” 

“Uh huh. And I see you brought a friend… you wanna sing too, baby-cheeks?” Vincent asks, leaning forwards. 

Virgil hisses at him, then clears his throat.

“I don’t fucking sing,” he snarls, adding in his mind, in public. Vincent smiles knowingly. 

“Aha, a feisty one. You really know how to pick em’, eh? Can I get you a drink then?” Virgil feels like he’s about to explode: this is not what he signed up for. He is here to be with Roman and watch out for him, not take this guy’s shit. Roman notices, and slings his arm once more over him. 

“Nah, just a work colleague. He’s a nurse~ and doesn’t drink. It’s a shame, I know, but it’ll work better in my favor anyway. I’ll save money on the taxi. Incredible Sulk, how does a black coffee sound?” 

“I guess that’s okay,” Virgil grumbles, glaring at this man even as he shrugs and complies. They both take a seat at the bar, Roman ordering some complicated fancy thing to match his personality and Virgil immediately hunching over his hot coffee. It’s surprisingly good for a bar, bitter yet flavourful, and Virgil finds himself smiling down at it. 

“Eh, I think that smile says it’s more than just okay!” Roman purrs, shimmying closer to Virgil and bumping their shoulders. It seems as though the alcohol is already having an effect, his disposition somehow brighter. Virgil shies away slightly. Someone else saddles up to the bar and introduces himself. This man has long swoopy raven hair, and is even more lanky than Logan. He leans by Roman, eyes colder than Virgil would like. The dark haired fellow decides to listen in on the conversation… just in case. 

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger says. Roman puts his hand on the bar, slurps the rest of his drink down in one go.

“I’m not sure- I do tend to get around. Where do you think you know me from, blue eyes?” Oh no. The guy’s got blue eyes, he didn’t even notice that. Virgil mourns his only chance at getting with Roman- this guy’s stealing it. 

 “Oh, I know! The theatre, right? You were Jason Dean in the Heathers production! Scary shit, man. You’re a fantastic singer. Hey, can we get another drink?” the stranger waves over Vincent, who fixes Roman another bright cocktail. Roman immediately starts fiddling with the straw, and looks up at the stanger. 

“The name’s Roman. What’s yours?”

“I’m Lucian. It’s nice to meet you. Man, it’s so loud here: I wish we could go~,” Lucian says. Virgil narrows his eyes at the stranger, takes another sip of coffee. Roman smirks, and turns and winks at Virgil as if to say Look at this catch. Virgil tries to smile, but is pretty sure it’s just a grimace. It may just be Virgil’s luck (despite how it affects Roman) but Virgil notices Lucian dropping something in Roman’s drink. Virgil slams the table, slaps Lucian, and pushes the drink away. He fists his hand in Lucian’s shirt, able to lift the man a foot or two in the air. Patrons gawk at the events unfolding, Roman seems shocked. 

“Don’t fucking touch Roman’s drink, what the fuck did you put in there you bastard?” 

“Dude- that’s my drink. It was a little additive, I can consume alcohol without risk without it! He seemed to be enjoying it so much, I asked for one too, can you please- let me down, you’re hurting me-” Virgil snarls, but drops him anyway. Roman touches Virgil’s shoulder gently. 

“He’s right, it’s his drink, Virgil. Thank you for defending me, but really it’s okay-” Roman reassures him, smiling placatingly, and all Virgil can feel is embarrassed. Embarrassed out of his mind and his anxiety is shooting through the roof. 

“I-I… I- uh… I-” to make matters worse, another man comes stomping up to him, throws his drink on Virgil. His hoodie is now soaked, his shirt too. Virgil’s lower lip trembles. He grits his jaw against them, holding it in. Despite the fact that he’s made a total fool of himself in front of Roman. Virgil wants to bite his nails, to go home, to run away and never return. This new man points his finger right in Virgil’s face. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing my husband’s shirt like that?” he growls. Virgil wants to hide in his sopping wet hoodie. Hide and never come back. 

“I- erm, uh- umm-” 

“My friend here is very sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Hey, can I buy the both of you a drink? Tell me how you met,” Roman leads them both away, looking pityingly at Virgil, “How bout you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up a little, huh? I’ll take care of this.” 

Virgil ducks his head and runs with his tail between his legs. He throws himself into the surprisingly clean stall and locks it tight before falling down on the seat fully clothed. I can’t believe you did that you fucking idiot you’ll never shape up what were you thinking doing some stupid stunt like that? You’ve ruined it. Ruined everything. There’s no way Roman will ever want you now. Virgil’s panic attack is coming on quickly, like a train hurtling down a track with no end in sight. He doesn’t want it to happen, but he starts to cry. 

Usually, Virgil looks to his familiar hoodie for comfort. But his hoodie is soaked, and Virgil is shivering in it. He should take it off. But he doesn’t want to, he just wants to wallow in it and wither away. 

You’ll never amount to anything. You should have just stayed inside: no one would have missed you. Roman had to clean up after your mess, you were supposed to be helping and now you’re just rotting in the bathroom like an idiot. Why did you even come, if you’re just going to be a let down? 

Virgil’s breath is coming out in uneven gasps, his heart is palpitating dangerously. He really shouldn’t be alone, he should go out and- no, no, no. His skin is too tight, his head is too small, and his hands are pressing bruises into his arms, he is holding them so tight. What is he supposed to do again? When his thoughts get too big for his mind and he feels like fainting, feels like how he was when he was younger and like his heart could just give out any minute and the next time he blinked open his eyes he’d be on a hospital bed. 

His hazy, anxiety-filled mind vaguely recalls a conversation he had with Logan  once, after he had pulled him back from an attack in the workplace (he mixed up two patients and fell apart in an empty room) that he should… he should ask for help. Call me, he had said, no matter the time. Just call me for help, and I’ll talk it out with you. 

Logan is on speedial, Logan, Logan can help- with shaking fingers, Virgil can just make out the emergency phone button on his cell to call Logan. 

The ringing of the phone helps station Virgil, stations him better than the pain in his hands. It picks up on the fifth ring. 

“Hello, Doctor Logan Berry speaking.” 

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice sounds so fucking raspy and teary, sounds so horrendously uncertain, “You- you said to call, and- if you’re busy just hang up, it’s fine you don’t have to worry, actually this was a bad idea, I’m going to hang up-” 

“You will do no such thing, Virgil. Stay on the line with me. Scale of one to ten, how bad?” 

“I- uh, I dunno, probably like- like a seven? I messed everything up, Lo, I- fuck, I can’t do anything right-” 

“Well, that is one foul-tempered lie. Let’s calm down first, yes, and then you’ll tell me all about what happened. I’m sure it’s better than it seems,” Janus’s voice, even hindered through the phone, forces Virgil to relax. He had no idea that Janus could hear, but apparently they’re together. His mind recalls lamely that tonight is when they get together to go over payments and make sure everything is in order. A part of him is glad that Janus can hear; He’s like a hypnotist with his voice, a snake. Virgil nods, then another wave of idiocy flows through him because it’s over the phone. 

“Okay, Virgil, now exhale through your mouth. I want to hear it through the telephone,” Logan instructs, no nonsense. 

Virgil shakily breathes out. 

“Good. Now close your mouth and inhale quietly through your nose. I’m going to count to four, alright?” 

“O-okay,” Virgil complies, breathing it in. Janus counts him off rhythmically over the phone: Logan’s on the right and Janus on the left, and the result is relaxing. 

“Hold your breath now for seven seconds. I’ll count for you once more.” Janus-

“Exhale again, for a total of eight seconds. Here we go-” Logan- 

“Exceptional work, darling. You’re doing so well. Let’s repeat the process a few more times, how does that sound?” Janus-

Holy hell, do they make a good team. 

And just like that, Virgil feels better. His chest eases, his mind soothes, and he’s no longer shaking. 

“Thank you, both of you. That was- it was really fucking helpful. I don’t know what would happen if I was here alone,” 

“If you don’t mind me asking… where is here?” Logan asks, dry and with no sense of privacy whatsoever. 

“I’m at a bar with Roman. He- he invited me, because he wanted backup, and I made a total fool of myself. I got all aggressive on this guy who did nothing wrong,” 

“Aha, jealous?” There’s a sound of Janus wrestling the phone from Logan, much to his displeasure, “Just finish this weeks, Berry-” is heard through the phone. 

“Maybe… hey, wait a second! Who told you-” 

“I’m not blind, Virgil. Nor stupid. Don’t even try that on me. It might work on the nerd, and even Remus and Patton, but unlike them, I’m not clueless,” 

Virgil pouts, grunting softly. Is he really that obvious? 

“Whatever! And now… I’ve got no chance with him. I don’t know why I even came here, anyone could see that it was a stupid idea.” 

“No- well, yes, this was very stupid and most likely going to end in strife, but you still certainly have a chance! Remember, this is Roman we’re talking about: he’s a carousel when it comes to men, always changing.” 

“That’s part of the issue, Jan- where am I? I’ll be left behind, and have to watch as he finds a another and another and another-” 

“You’re starting to panic again, Virgil. Calm yourself. And I know that won’t happen.” 

“How?”

“You’re more perceptive, attentive, and caring than any of those guys will ever be. Roman would be even more of an idiot than either of us could possibly imagine if he were to let you go. Again, I am not blind: I see how good you are with the patients. You are careful and thoughtful. Despite how you might see yourself, Virgil, you are a good person. A wonderful person, who makes mistakes, but always fixes them. You do not leave them behind you. You feel empathy, and guilt, two very humane things, and you remedy your problems. That’s what happened with me, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right,” Virgil’s blushing again. It’s true, that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid or unfinished: it makes him terribly worried, and the only solution he’s found is confronting them head on. Janus and Virgil had met long ago, when they were both younger: Janus had just started medical practices, and done work for Virgil. It ultimately failed and hurt Virgil more, which sparked deep hatred on Virgil’s side and a continued regret on Janus’s. They eventually reconciled, reuniting later when Virgil started out as a nurse, and everything had become much better. 

“Now, get back out there, darling. You’ll do great.” 

“...Thanks, Janus,” 

“Anytime,” and with that, Janus hangs up the phone to return to Logan. Virgil sighs to himself, and exits the stall: in the mirror, he sees his makeup all ruined. He washes it off, cleans his hoodie (which is relatively drier now) and ends up taking off the damp shirt as well. Thank goodness he’s wearing an undershirt: walking out topless seems hellish, and this only slightly better. 

It’s been a while since Virgil has gone anywhere without his hoodie on or makeup. He barely recognizes himself, and he sees this face every morning. But… it’ll be what it’ll be. Checking his phone, Virgil realizes that he’s been in the bathroom for… nearly two hours? 

Oh my god, I hope Roman hasn’t left yet-  Virgil flies out of the bathroom, holding his damp dress shirt and beloved hoodie in one crooked arm. Scanning the room, he notices Roman sitting at one of the small square tables watching some guy sing “Mad World” somewhat decently. Virgil sighs in relief, and walks over and sits right in front of him. 

“Princey, thank god you’re still here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Virgil says, his voice softer than usual from all the crying. Roman looks at him, a smile curving on his features. 

“Hello there, you’re- you’re pretty,” Roman slurs slightly mid sentence, and Virgil gapes. Roman is drunk. Very drunk. So drunk, that he doesn’t recognize Virgil without his makeup and hoodie. While Virgil stares openmouthed, Roman reaches over and squeezes his bicep. “Ooh, you’re so strong too! Pretty face, and a hot body-” 

“Roman, you seriously don’t recognize me? Honest to god?” Virgil insists. Roman blinks slowly, but there’s no spark. Roman seriously has no idea, Virgil’s a stranger. 

He should probably bring him home. 

Or… he can start over. Roman won’t remember it anyway: this might be his only chance. 

“I think I’d remember such a handsome prince” Roman huffs. Virgil, unsurprisingly, blushes. 

“That’s very kind of you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” Virgil purrs. 

“Oh- you’re a flirt too! I like you,” Roman smiles widely, “Do you want to get another drink?” 

“I think you’ve had enough… do you want to go up and sing instead?” Virgil suggests, scooching closer to Roman. Touching his clothed shoulder, he feels how warm Roman is. Roman snuggles up to Virgil just a tad- he’s over affectionate, and with no filter, and no sense. It’s adorable, and Virgil is glad he got here when he did, because who knows who would take advantage of this cuddly child-like man? 

Now he understands why Roman needs a drinking buddy. 

“I love singing, I’m very good at it. I like Disney too. Do you like Disney?” 

“Yes, I like Disney,” Virgil snorts. They’ve had this debate over and over: the both of them like the franchise, though Virgil sees the darker bits that Roman tends to ignore. 

“You wanna- you wanna sing Love is an Open Door with me? I like that song, it’s a good song-” Roman rambles, looking excited. Virgil hates public speaking, let alone public speaking, but… he doesn’t know anyone here, what’s the issue? 

“That sounds good. Let’s go sign up, shall we?” Virgil suggests, Roman excitedly clinging to Virgil’s arm. 

“You’re so cold, it’s so nice,” Roman murmurs, rubbing his face on Virgil’s bare shoulder. Virgil can’t help but smile: his heart is beating fast, but in a fantastic way. Vincent doubletakes as they make it to the bar. 

“Hey you two- heading home? Ro looks pretty slammed…” 

“I’ll take him home in a bit. He wants to do one more song,” Virgil explains. Roman giggles, and Virgil’s heart does another flip. His smile widens. 

“Ah, sorry folks- Roman can’t do another one. He’s already exhausted the limit of five: you should have heard him sing some of those. An undercover celebrity, he is,” Vincent reaches over and mussies Roman’s hair, to which Virgil slaps his hand away. 

“Princey, did you hear? You can’t sing another one,” Virgil tells him, his voice still soft.

“Aww, really? I wanna- I wanna sing some ‘ore,” Roman pouts, his lower lips trembling. Virgil kisses his cheek, just a peck really, that’s all he can manage without exploding. Roman turns on a dime, sadness morphing to elation all at once. He leans in for another, to which Virgil declines, pushing him away with a palm. 

“Hey, how about I sing a song for you, huh? How does that sound?” Virgil asks, nervous beyond anything at singing in front of all these people, but Roman seems so ecstatic at the thought that Virgil knows he’ll be going through with it. 

“You sing? But you just-” gawks Vincent. Virgil glares at him. 

“Don’t act so surprised. And yes, I do. Just didn’t feel like saying it. Totally. When do I go up?” 

“After this guy,” Vincent points at the person going on stage, and Virgil steels himself for this experience. It’s okay, you’re the only one who’ll remember. It’ll be fine. Virgil starts walking closer to the stage, Roman hanging on him still. “Hey, dude, are you going to tell me what you’re singing? I’ll set it up for you,” 

“I got it. We’re good, right Princey?” 

“I’m so good, I’m the best, you’re so nice, gonna sing a song for me-” Roman rambles. Virgil shakes his head good-humoredly, adoring this side of him. Not suave or fanciful at all: only cute. They come to a table right by the stage, miraculously empty and clean. 

“Okay, Ro, you wanna sit here and watch?” Roman smiles, nodding quickly, and plops down in one of the chairs. Virgil goes beside him, fanning his confidence by reaching for his large hand. Just like in the car, Roman takes it and squeezes. 

“I’m so moved, you’re going to sing something for me! So romantic!” Roman gushes. Virgil blushes, rubbing his thumb on Roman’s sun-kissed hand. 

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking. Or any of this stuff… but you’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter. I really really like you, Roman. I’ve known you for a while, so it wasn’t all at once, but you tease me with all of your flirty winks and tell me about how much you get around and today, calling me pretty- you’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice. You never do, and- Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend. I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that. You like- you like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that. Except for today, when I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing. It’ll just be for me. Just for me to remember, for you to enjoy now. You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me. Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Virgil tells him, under the lights and despite the singing in the background. Roman blinks a few times, not understanding. 

“I- uhm… I don’t understand, whadda ya mean?” Roman squints at him. Virgil sighs, presses their foreheads together and gets up. 

“Doesn’t matter. I only want to say… whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s my turn to go,” and Virgil pulls away, waving slightly to the confused man, and hunches his shoulders to make him look small as he walks to the center of the stage. Scrolling through the music (it operates sort of like a karaoke machine), Virgil selects a song he knows. 

Virgil doesn’t particularly like his singing voice: his mother loves it, would sing along with him during Nightmare Before Christmas, and told him it was very nice. It’s kind of low, gentle, and the words flow into the next. 

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through… you’re barely waking, and I’m tangled up in you,” Virgil sings quietly. It’s awkward, and he can’t look out into the audience at all, and he hears them ignore him. He takes a deep breath, and continues. “I’m open, you’re closed. Where I follow, you’ll go. I worry I won’t see your face light up again,” 

People are starting to notice Virgil, as his voice rises, and it’s frightening but also exhilarating. He refuses to make eye-contact with them, unlike Roman who always does, and speaking of him- it’s very clear that Roman’s watching, enraptured. Virgil can practically feel it. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme- Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I, collide,” Someone in the crowd whistles, causing Virgil to struggle a bit, but he picks it up right after. He’s imagining that it’s only him and Missy and- Roman. Virgil glances up at Roman barely: he’s awestruck, and it fills Virgil’s heart with glee. 

“I’m quiet you know.You make a first impression. But I’ve found I’m scared to know you’re always on my mind,” Virgil messes up the lyrics a bit, but no one notices at all. They’re cheering him on, listening attentively- it helps him go on, return his gaze to the floor. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine, out of the back you fall in time, somehow find, you and I- collide,” Virgil’s voice is still quiet: even as his confidence rises, he can’t seem to raise it at all. 

“Don’t stop here. I’ve lost my place. I’m close behind,” Virgil used to sing this song with his parents, when he was young: his mother and father would sing and dance with him. It has sentimental value, it reminds him of childhood and pain and love and survival. They used to sing it to him, comforting him with the words. He knows every one. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills your mind, you finally find that you and I collide. Finally find that you and I collide. You finally find you and I collide,” the music plays for a while longer, with Virgil humming along rhythmically. When it finally fades out, Virgil scurries off the stage to thunderous applause. It is way too much attention, all at once. On his way, he grabs Roman’s sleeve, dragging him out as people fawn. As they rapidly exit, Vincent calls out from the bar. 

“Hey, grump- I don’t sing, my ass! You sing gorgeous! Come back anytime, with or without Roman!” Virgil glares at him, and then he’s out into the parking lot. 

“Phew- that was- oh my god, that was exhilarating. Roman? What did… what did you mmfp-” Virgil was smiling until he was cut off by Roman’s lips on his. Virgil moans into it: it’s more decadent than he could have ever imagined. Roman’s lips are deceptively soft and taste like strawberries. He finally moves back for air, and Virgil leans against the car, holding his mouth. Did… did that just happen? It takes a second to register that a) Roman kissed him, and b) that it doesn’t matter because he’s not in his right mind. It’s worth nothing beyond right now… but it means so so much. Virgil will remember this for the rest of his godforsaken life. 

“Ro-Roman, what was that for?” Virgil murmurs, touching his lips addictively. 

“You’re the kindest guy I’ve ever met. God, I want to take you home. Handsome, and sweet, and caring and a voice of an angel. I wish I met you forever ago,” Roman says, approaching closer to Virgil until he’s pressed up against the car and can feel Roman’s warmth, “Fuck… I don’t even know your name, but you’re… you’re magic,” 

“You’re making me seem better than I am, really,” Virgil flushes, feeling all sorts of fuzzy feelings. Roman chuckles, coming in closer to lean his head on Virgil’s shoulders. 

“I don’t… I don’t think I am, beautiful… I just- I don’t want to go home alone tonight. I’m so freaking lonely, all the goddamn time. So lonely… it’s only me, and no one really cares, when it comes down to it,” Roman sighs, on the verge of tears. Virgil is dumbfounded: who would have thought? Roman, the Prince of Theatre, who sings songs to children and flirts easily, and never is by himself because he’s a magnet for conversation… is lonely. 

“Maybe we can be lonely together,” Virgil whispers aloud, meaning it to be internal but slipping out anyway. 

“Can… can we?” Roman pleads, “Please?” Virgil exhales: he’s so cute. Remember though- he’s not going to recall any of this. It hurts, all of a sudden, that Virgil is at once Roman’s world and at the same time an illusion. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll see,” Virgil smiles at him. Roman leans down for another kiss, and now Virgil lets him. What’s the harm? I’m the only one who will hurt. I can take it. “I should take you home now, huh? You can’t drive, you’re drunk,” 

“Pfft- I am not-” 

“You are,” Virgil rolls his eyes, unlocking his car, “Now get in.” Roman shuffles his feet around. Virgil glares. 

“In the car, Princey, you have to go home now,” he demands. Roman frowns, looks away stubbornly. And, just like a puppy, he’s adorable but persistent as all hell. Roman murmurs something under his breath, inaudible. Glancing at him kinder, Virgil asks him to speak up. 

“I don’t wanna go home, I wanna stay with you,” Roman mumbles, slightly louder. And, Virgil is struck right in the heart. My god, is it even legal to be that cute? Virgil sighs: he should bring Roman to his house, that’s what he had asked before he was intoxicated, and he definitely can’t take advantage of him, but… those eyes are begging for him to stay with him. He can’t refuse. 

“Okay, okay, you win. It’s going to be impossible to explain this to you in the morning, but whatever! I’ll drive you to my house,” Virgil agrees, and the look of pure elation on Roman’s face is more than reward enough. Though Virgil has to help Roman’s wobby body into the passenger seat and buckle him up, he can’t stop smiling. 

Even as he starts the car to drive it home. 

Even as Roman says he’s going to be sick. 

Even as he has to rush Roman upstairs to his apartment before he pukes all over the place, Virgil is happy. 

Roman hugs Virgil’s middle after he cleans him up. Missy and Roman get along swimmingly, Virgil offering to let him hold her, and Roman enraptured by her. He’s enthralled by Virgil lending him a toothbrush, seemingly blessed by the offering of a piece of toast to calm his stomach at the small kitchen bar. Roman stares at it, sitting on one of the stools. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” he wonders. Virgil frowns. Are people usually unkind to you? 

“This is normal, Princey. People are supposed to look out for one another,” 

“Oh. Yeah,” Roman says to himself. Virgil can’t hold back from reaching over and kissing his forehead. 

“Anytime you need, I’ll be nice to you. I don’t mean to be so prickly: it’s a defense mechanism. You only have to tell me you’d like some care, and I’ll give you everything,” Virgil tells him. This charming man, he hiccups and his eyes water as he blubbers. Virgil is good with a lot of things: crying crushes are not one of them. “Hey, no crying, don’t cry! Let’s go to bed, huh? Yeah, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?” 

Roman makes a pitiful little nod, and Virgil leads him to the bedroom. There’s only one… so either they share, or Virgil’s going to the couch. So, he tucks Roman into the warm black duvet and brushes his forehead as a way of good night. As he goes to leave, Roman grabs onto his arm. 

“Stay with me? Please?”

“Ro, I don’t- I don’t think this is a good idea, buddy. No, it’s really not a good idea,” his heartbeat is picking up again, and Virgil bites his lip nervously. Roman ignores it, pulls his hand to kiss it. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he purrs. Are you trying to kill me? Roman’s too attractive, too flirtatious. And Virgil’s too head over heels to say no. And that’s how he finds himself sharing his bed with Roman King. 

Who fell asleep almost immediately, and snuggled up right into Virgil’s side. So close, that there is a permanent blush on Virgil’s face and his breath on his neck. Okay, this is not going to work. I’m never going to get to sleep if this goes on. Fuck. 

Virgil shuffles away, attempting to get out of bed and go sleep on the couch, but Roman slings and arm over him and growls “Stay”. 

Well, can’t argue with that, now can I? 

~~~~~~

When morning filters through the window, Roman blinks awake. Jiminy Cricket, does his head hurt. Ugh, what happened last night? This isn’t his bed: it’s not colourful at all, all blacks and purples. For goodness sakes, the curtains that are blocking most of the sun have spiders on it. Roman rubs his eyes: did he go home with someone? He must’ve. But who? Roman can’t really recall: he doesn’t remember talking to anyone. After Virgil ran out to the bathroom, Roman just wanted to drink and be alone. Anyone who approached him was turned away instantly by one of his cold stares. 

He couldn’t help but feel as though it was sort of his fault: he said he’d be with him. That Roman would leave Virgil alone. And yet… he was in the bathroom for two hours, and not once did Roman gather the courage to go and check on him. And then what? Then he went to some strangers home and left Virgil? 

What kind of asshole would do that to someone? Virgil, despite how he acts, is amazingly perceptive. He can tell when something is wrong, it’s why he’s so good as a nurse… he’s just genuinely a good person. And Roman left him? 

He can’t imagine he’d do that to the emo, even drunk. He wouldn’t be able to forget Virgil, would he? 

No, he really has no clue. 

Think, Roman, think- he presses his hands to his pounding head, as if it would squeeze out a memory. All that happens is scraps of a song. Oh great, not only do I have no idea where I am but now there’s a song stuck in my head. Wonderful. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme-” he murmurs under his breath. Then an image follows right after: a man, holding onto the microphone at the bar, singing the words so soft, so sweetly. It makes his heart pang, it’s so lovely. Is that the guy I went home with? Roman thinks to himself. He focuses harder on the memory. The man, he looks up shyly, nervously, and meets eyes with Roman. 

God, he’s fucking beautiful. Love at first sight? Maybe not, but whatever this is, it’s as close to that as it could possibly be. It makes Roman feel all warm and bubbly inside. He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling of this stranger’s bed. Things come back in bits and pieces all out of order; kissing that man by a car, his car- that man laughing at him as he gawks at his, what is that, a spider?- the man sitting at a table in the bar right next to him, letting him nuzzle his shoulder (embarrassing, it makes Roman blush he was so mushy)- a kiss to his forehead to calm him, wiping away drunken tears ever so gently. His hands felt baby-soft, despite the obvious muscular frame he sported. 

Who is he…? 

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking…” in his mind, this man’s voice follows: it’s soft, muted a touch. Focus now, Roman, you’ve almost got it- 

“You’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter…” Of course it matters! I’m not a blackout drunk! Roman wants to scream. 

“I really really like you, Roman,” his voice, saying such kind words, is like what he’d imagine an angel would sound like. Or some sweet interaction that only comes between A-List celebrities in a scripted movie. 

“I’ve known you for a while…”  Okay, finally, getting somewhere. He knows him? Does he do tech at the theatre or something? It’s a possibility. 

“You’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice…” Well, that’s harsh. Kind makes him feel guilty: this gorgeous meal of a man was lusting over him, and he didn’t even notice? What kind of idiot- 

“Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend…” So he knows the snakey doctor. That can either be very good or very bad: is this fellow a sleazeball? No, Roman assures himself blushing heavily, He’s too sweet to do that. Too kind and loving. Did you see him sing that song? Just for you too- and he looked so nervous! Precious!! 

“I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that…” Roman wants to pull his hair out. Did Roman say or do something wrong? Did he ruin his chances with this Adonis, because if he did, he’ll be furious. 

“You like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that,” I don’t care! I don’t care about any of that! I just want someone to hold my hand and not treat me like shit! Just a sweet cute guy! 

“I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing,” Ah, sorry to break it to you, but hey, I’m remembering! And I’m going to track you down! 

“You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me…” he sounds melancholy, so very sad, and Roman wants to hold him. Hold him and kiss the top of his head and make him feel better. This person, he doesn’t deserve to be ignored. Why was Roman ever- 

“Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Roman’s mouth runs dry. Virgil? Virgil. He- the man he went with- Virgil. Virgil was singing to him, with that angelic voice, Virgil drove him to his house because he didn’t want to leave him alone and every other little wonderful thing, the forehead kisses and the smiles and the hands- oh my stars, I am an imbecile. 

How didn’t he notice? How Virgil would bite back at him whenever he flirted with him teasingly, how Virgil wilted whenever Roman talked about his relationships, how careful and thoughtful he was with every move, hell, he even agreed to go out to the bar with him to find some other guy because he was worried for Roman’s safety. 

How was I so blind that I missed the perfect man right in front of my eyes? 

And this… this must be Virgil’s house. It’s… very Virgil. Is that a Nightmare Before Christmas poster? Yes, it is- how wonderful. How him. 

How didn’t Roman notice? It’s that classic blunder, unseeing of the person right in front of him. How did he not see how romantic Virgil is? Little gestures, smart moves, kindness. Thoughtful. He had said that he wasn’t a romantic, but by Jove- he’s sweet. His mind can’t stop repeating Virgil’s soft singing and his gentleness. God, it’s so beautiful it’s painful. He should tell him to go without makeup more often. And a shirt. Yes, without a shirt sounds good. Undercover buff, much?

His mind swirls with the knowledge of Virgil. 

Oh shit- how is he going to face Virgil now? He’s in his house, he’s most likely in the living room: should he just pretend like he doesn’t remember? 

Roman’s a good actor, he could pull it off: but Virgil would still be wanting and lonesome. And Roman would know, and that hurts. He won’t do that to him, not anymore. 

He should just come out, say that he remembers and... ask him out on a date. A proper one. They both have the day off today, it could be now! 

They’d do Virgil things, things that make the emo happy, maybe a zoo or watch movies or coffee shops or whatever. And... Roman will hold his hand, hold him, and hold him and hold him. Yes, yes, this is good. 

Roman wishes he had more time to plan. Time to get flowers, or chocolates or anything, really. Wait, you don’t even know if he’ll say yes! Maybe he’s so embarrassed by the whole interaction that- 

Wait. 

Is that pancakes? 

Roman sniffs at the air: yes, it is. Blueberry ones, at that. And coffee. His stomach rumbles, and hunger is enough to spur him out of bed. His legs are wobbly, and his head is swimming, but he makes it out of the room eventually. 

“Oh hey, Princey, finally decide to wake from your endless slumber, huh?” Virgil teases. His makeup has returned, as usual. He’s wearing another hoodie, a black one, and it’s hanging off his shoulders as he flips pancakes. Roman’s mouth runs dry. “Also, umm, sorry about not taking you to your apartment. I didn’t want to leave you alone.” 

“Oh... it’s fine,” Roman sounds odd, even to himself, and Virgil gives him a skeptical look. “Heh, anyone who makes me good morning pancakes is alright in my book!” 

Virgil snorts, and pushes a plate over the kitchen bar for Roman to sit and eat. 

“How’s your head? What do you- you know, never mind,” Virgil ducks his head into the fridge to receive some maple syrup, “You like it warmed?” 

“Uh... if it isn’t an issue,” Virgil casts another weird look to Roman: is he being too nice? Roman can’t help it, how could he be rude? He puts his syrup in the microwave, with the long pale fingers. 

 “I uh- Virgil,” Roman starts, more nervous than anything, “Oh fuck, this is hard but- I uh-” 

“You’re making me worried, Princey, spit it out or shut up and eat my food,” Virgil glares. Roman gulps. It’s like a bandaid, rip it off, come on, just spit it out- 

“I REMEMBER! I remember everything, I always do after I’m drunk, it’s why I get a buddy, because I always remember in the morning and I hate what I’m like when I’m intoxicated, because I always remember, I think I’ve said that a few times- uh, Virgil, are you okay?” Roman finally looks up at Virgil- or rather down, as the man has crumpled to the floor in a heap. Has he fainted? Roman gets up and squats next to him. 

“Virgil?” he whispers into his ear, poking at him. Virgil jolts up, narrowly missing a collision with Roman’s head as he sits up straight. He groans, and puts his head in his hands to try and hide his full-faced blush. 

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot, oh my god, I’ve made a total fool of myself- oh god, please just leave me alone to die, Roman, just go,” he yells. Roman chuckles, and peels Virgil’s hands from his face. He seems about to cry, moisture glistening at his eyes. Roman’s heart can’t take it: he thinks he looks foolish? No, never. 

Roman kisses the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not an idiot, you’re most certainly not a fool. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you before at the office. I’m the only idiot between the two of us, because I didn’t see how wonderful you were until you had to be blatant about it. I’m so very sorry, and in your debt. I feel silly to even try and ask, but would you… perchance, want a real date? One where I’m not flirting with other people- only with you, you Incredible Sulk,” Roman consoles Virgil pulling him into an embrace. 

“Really?” Virgil asks. 

“Honestly,” 

“Then yeah, yeah, that sounds okay. I uh… I don’t do a whole lot so-” Roman cuts Virgil off by pressing his finger to his lips. Virgil raises his eyebrows. 

“How’s right this second sound?”

“Yeah- uhm, that works for me-”

“Fantastic! And I believe your pancakes are burning,” Roman notes, laughing as Virgil shoots up cursing colourfully as he discards a very black pancake. Even as the man squawks and yells and forces Roman back into his seat, he can’t help but feel fulfilled. After the pancake fiasco is remedied, Virgil breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at Roman. 

“Sorry about that, Princey,” 

“Hey, it’s no problem for me! Kind of entertaining, actually,” Roman snickers, earning him a slap upside the head. And then, just to push Virgil’s buttons, he snakes his hand through his dark locks and kisses him deeply over the counter. It’s a knee-shaking kiss, a heart-stopper, a signature Roman smooch. One he should’ve given Virgil last night, but was too drunk to make happen. It seems like Virgil likes it too, if the noises are any indication. Virgil is the first to pull back for air, and presses his chest, gasping. 

“Oh my goodness, was that too much? Are you okay, Virgil?” Roman frets. Virgil, he recalls, has some sort of horrible cocktail of medical issues. Most he’s grown out of, but the effects still linger. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s cool. Hah, my heart’s still beating. It’s stopped once before, and I have a defibrillator in my room but- I’m okay. I guess that just means I’m fragile, right? Gotta be careful with my heart, both ways, alright?” A still beating heart. How romantic, how delightful. 

“Now you must stay with me, so I can restart your heart whenever it’s required!” Roman announces. Virgil rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite his small smile, then returns to finishing off the end of his pancake batter. Roman pokes his bicep, his deceptively strong bicep, to pester him into an answer. Virgil catches it, squeezes. 

“Hey! My heart’s still beating, you’re going to have to try harder,” he teases. It has to be the most lovely seductive challenge he’s ever been issued. And you said you weren’t a romantic. 

His heart still beats, and it beats just as hard for Roman as the other way around. 

How positively lovely. 

~~~~

And from that day on, the entire pediatric office would all go out once a month to a particular bar’s karaoke night, and Roman and Virgil would sing many songs but always one. They always sang one at the end, and it was so beautiful that people cry every time. It’s longing and love and acceptance. 

They like to hold hands while they do it, perhaps to show off their relationship… or maybe just the matching rings that adorn their fingers. 

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading! 

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#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #pediatric au #roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton #logan #remus #roman #virgil #janus #prinxiety #prinxeity #my writing #still beating heart #fanfiction

[maybeimamuppet]

city of love

hello friends! happy wednesday! this is a request fill for NoaAvrahami6 on Wattpad, who requested the art freaks going on a long vacation/ road trip, and there's a scene to fill a request from aster-alpine on Wattpad (@deadbreadrunning here) who requested them swimming with dolphins :)

also, quick note, I have done absolutely nothing they do in this story, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. I have definitely learned the lesson that is 'write what you know'. I did as much research as my brain could handle and now I know more than I ever wanted to about the Venus de milo.

quick tw for panic attacks, but otherwise, enjoy.

-

Janis is scheming.

Cady is a week away from completing her PhD in mathematics. All she has left to do is defend her dissertation and publish her work, and then she’ll find out if the last four years of work have been worth it. She deserves presents.

Janis has two ideas. The first, is a dog. They have a cat, which Cady had agreed to adopting as a get-well present when Janis had broken her arm several years ago. Elvira is well-loved and very spoiled, but Cady has been begging for a dog. No time like the present. Janis found a reliable rescue breeder who recently had a litter of golden retriever puppies, and would be taking Cady to pick one soon.

Her second idea is a trip. Cady loves to travel, but has been so busy for the last several years that they haven’t gotten an opportunity to go any further than their trips back home to Illinois since their honeymoon in Kenya. Janis has family on her father’s side in France, that she also hasn’t been able to see in several years.

So, she’s booking a flight, also deciding to let Damian come as a surprise. He had recently landed the lead role in a revival of Little Shop of Horrors on Broadway, so he deserves a present too. He doesn’t start rehearsals for another few months, which gives Janis the perfect window of opportunity.

She finds a flight with a few seats available for the evening Cady will (hopefully) receive her degree; a miraculously non-stop flight to Marseille, where her family lives. Janis figures they’ll stop there for a few days, and then travel to Paris to see some of the more iconic sights.

Janis books the tickets, figuring it’ll either be a happy surprise or a consolation trip, and knowing it’s very likely to be the former. She clears her browser history after, in case Cady gets an urge to snoop. Then, she figures she should probably let Damian know to prepare for an international trip in a week.

danis: hey u wanna go to france??

jamian: What did you do

danis: booked us a trip to france

jamian: Janis

jamian: Why

danis: bc my wife becomes a doctor in a week and deserves a gift, and i want you to come. and also bc you got seymour and deserve a gift too

jamian: Oh

jamian: That’s actually really sweet, Jan

danis: it’s my yearly act of goodwill

jamian: I figured lmao

jamian: When are we leaving?

danis: flights on friday at 7, i’ll pick u up. i wanna surprise caddy at her school and then we’ll go right to the airport

jamian: Aww how cute

jamian: Do you need Aaron to watch Ellie?

danis: oh shit yeah i forgot about that

danis: tell him i’ll bring him back whatever he wants as a thank you and a sorry i can’t bring you with us

jamian: U really forgot your whole cat

danis: no!!! i just forgot we can’t bring her!!! i’m a good cat mom!!!!!

jamian: You give her potato chips

jamian: Like on the reg

danis: because she likes them

danis: and i don’t give her enough to hurt her

jamian: Press x to doubt

jamian: Aaron said he’ll cat sit for some chocolates from France and lots of photos

danis: tits i can do that

danis: oh shit caddy’s home i gtg love u

jamian: Love you too tell her I say hi

danis: 📷

“Hey, Peanut, how was your day?” Janis asks gently. Cady lets her exhausted glare answer. “That good, huh? Do you want snuggles?” Cady nods, but signs that she wants to take a shower first. Her day must have been rough if she won’t speak. “Of course, baby, go ahead. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

Cady signs a thank you in return, pecking her gently in greeting and scratching Elvira before heading into the bathroom. Janis decides to go the extra mile today and lights a nice candle in the bedroom, and pulls out a book to read to her. Cady loves the sound of Janis’ voice, so whenever her day has been especially tough they have story time, squeezing in as much of Janis’ voice and good snuggles as they can.

Cady doesn’t return until nearly 45 minutes later, in a set of Janis’ pajamas and with her hair neatly braided over her shoulder. Janis reaches for her, pulling her into a tight cuddle and squeezing gently in case she’s also having a sensory overload.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She murmurs softly, scratching Cady’s scalp gently in the way that always makes her practically melt in Janis’ lap.

Cady sighs, burying her face in Janis’ chest further. “Just... a lot, today. I have a lot to do, and a lot is riding on this week. I’m gonna be stressed until Friday. And maybe after that, if I don’t make it.”

“You’re gonna make it, baby. You’re a genius, you did two degrees in the time most people do one. And you’ve been working so hard and carefully, I know you’re going to do it. And if you don’t, everybody at that school is catching these hands,” Janis replies.

Cady chuckles at that, finally poking her face out. She grunts slightly as Elvira suddenly jumps onto her back, joining their cuddle puddle happily. “Thanks, Bluejay. You’re... you’ve been the best partner I could’ve asked for, through all of this. I wouldn’t have even made it this far without you.”

“Yes, you would have,” Janis says. “But I’m glad I could be here for you. I love you.”

Cady inches her way up to Janis’ face so as not to disturb the cat snoozing on her back, but makes it and leans in for a kiss. “I love you too. Are you gonna read to me?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Janis replies. “Figured it might cheer you up a bit.”

Cady nods happily, cuddling into her and resting her head on her shoulder. She’s sound asleep before Janis even reaches the third chapter, so Janis sets an alarm and joins her in an impromptu nap.

————-

Cady barely speaks for the next few days, frantically studying, rehearsing, and proofreading everything. Janis is worried, but knows there’s not a lot she can do. She stays out of her way and brings her caffeinated teas and snacks from time to time.

The day before D-Day, Janis makes waffles for dinner, Cady’s favorite. Cady is still at the desk in their bedroom, where she’s been for nearly six days straight.

“Hey,” Janis says gently as she comes to drop off her plate. She usually eats her own dinner on the bed, spending time with Cady as she studies. But this time, Cady snatches her wrist once she sets the plate down and won’t let her leave. “You okay?”

Cady hasn’t looked at her yet, but doesn’t let go of her arm. She just stares at her massive book, clutching Janis’ wrist like a lifeline, like it’s the only thing holding her to Earth. Suddenly, she lets out a choked sob.

“Baby, hey,” Janis says softly. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t do this, Janis,” Cady cries desperately. “I-I dont-I can’t-“

“Hey, shh,” Janis hushes. “Come here, get away from this for now.” She picks Cady up from her chair and carries her to the bed, letting Cady lock tight around her and sob into her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it,” Cady wails. “It’s not good enough, and I’m- and I’m out of time, I can’t- I can’t do it!” She suddenly starts crying much harder, and is practically gasping for breath in between sobs.

“Baby, hey, look at me,” Janis insists, cupping her cheeks to look into her eyes. They’re wide and frantic, she looks terrified. She’s having an anxiety attack. Janis quickly tries to remember what she does for her own. The countdown strategy pops into her head, and she decides it’s worth a try. “Focus on me, okay? Tell me five things you can see.”

Cady chokes another sob and clings to her desperately, but manages to splutter out a reply. “Um-um... you-your face, and um-and... um... cat, and... the-and your p-painting, and the cl-the clock, and your tattoos.”

“Good, Butterfly,” Janis says gently. She holds Cady’s face again gently when she tries to look back to the desk. “No, hey, don’t look over there. Tell me four things you can hear.”

“There’s a-there’s a siren, outside,” Cady sobs. “And... and a bird, and... um... you talk-talking, and the-the cat. Chat-chattering.”

“You’re doing good, angel, breathe,” Janis says. “Three things you can feel.”

“Hold-holding me, you-you holding m-me,” Cady chokes. “And the-the bed. ‘S soft. And-and your hair. Tickles.”

“Another breath, baby. Two things you can smell,” Janis coaxes gently.

“Dinner,” Cady whimpers. “And you-your shampoo. Apples.”

“Almost done, baby, what’s something you can taste?” Janis asks, holding her tighter.

“Tea. From earlier,” Cady sniffles.

“Good job, Butterfly. Are you feeling any better?” Janis asks quietly, laying them down and squishing Cady on top of her. Cady nods slightly against her shoulder.

“A little,” she says quietly. She’s still crying, but sounds much less frantic. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, angel, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Janis says as she kisses her forehead. “Can you tell me what’s happening now?”

Cady takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “I’m scared. I’ve had years to get this right, get it perfect. It’s not. I don’t... I’m scared to defend it, what if I mess up, or... stutter or stim too much and I don’t pass?”

“If you don’t pass for stuttering or stimming during your speech then everyone grading you is fucking ableist and I will fight all of them,” Janis growls protectively. “But we can figure something out later if it worries you. And I’m positive your dissertation and thesis are wonderful. You’ve been working so hard, non-stop, for years. It may not be perfect, but if you’ve been doing anything but your best work all these years I’ll be stunned. You’re going to pass, and you’ll be Doctor Heron, and then I have a surprise for you to celebrate.”

“A surprise?” Cady asks quietly with a sniffle. “What did you get?”

“It’s a surprise, Peanut,” Janis chuckles. “You’ll find out tomorrow. But I think you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” Cady says so sadly that Janis wants to spoil everything now. But she manages to resist, knowing her reaction tomorrow will be better. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby. Eat with me, you need a break,” Janis says as she grabs Cady’s plate from the desk. “Bed picnic.”

Cady reaches for her just barely warm waffles. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janis says as she leans over for a kiss.

“Can I try to guess what you got?” Cady asks with a bit more energy.

“Sure,” Janis chuckles. “But even if you guess it I’m not gonna tell you.”

Cady groans. “I wanna knoooooow.”

“And you will know tomorrow,” Janis giggles. “Guess away, Butterfly.”

“A puppy?” Cady asks.

Yes, Janis thinks. “No.” She says.

Cady pouts. “Um... did you paint me something?”

“Nope,” Janis chuckles as she takes another bite of her waffles.

“Hm... a... can you give me a hint?” Cady pleads. Janis tries her hardest to resist the puppy eyes.

“Fine, one hint,” Janis groans. The puppy eyes still haven’t lost their magic. “Think bigger.”

“Bigger... um... two puppies?”

“No,” Janis laughs. “Just eat. You’ll find out in less than a day, you can live with not knowing for that long.”

“Fine,” Cady grumbles. She finishes her waffles quietly and cuddles back into Janis. “Can you stay? I need to proofread it again but I don’t want to be alone.”

“Sure, Kitkat. Let me wash the dishes and I’ll be right back,” Janis replies. She rushes through scrubbing their plates and everything clean, then grabs her easel and joins Cady in the bedroom. She paints away while Cady reads, both of them working in comfortable silence. Janis has always loved these moments, where the silence doesn’t need to be filled, and they’re both content to just be with each other.

Cady finishes several hours later, closing her book with a deep sigh. “Jay?”

“Mm?” Janis hums in reply.

“You said we could figure something out. To stop me stimming,” Cady says as she turns to face her.

“I never said I’d stop you stimming,” Janis says, stepping around her easel. “I just meant that we’d find a way to make it less obvious, if you’re so worried about it.”

“Oh.”

Janis reaches for her. “Why are you so worried about it?”

Cady comes to nuzzle into her embrace quietly. “I dunno. It’s... it can be embarrassing, sometimes. I’ve done all this stuff, I’m hopefully about to get my PhD, but I still have to... curl my toes a certain way or flick my hands or fold myself up like a pretzel to get my brain to work like everyone else’s. And people stare, you can tell they think I’m childish.”

Janis hums sadly. “I get it, but it shouldn’t be something to be ashamed of. It doesn’t make you any less professional, or brilliant, it just helps you regulate, right?” Cady nods against her chest. “Yeah. You have all this knowledge in your brain now, it makes sense it needs a little wiggle to help kick it in gear and sort it all out.”

Cady chuckles. “Thanks, Jayjay.”

“And it feels good, remember when I tried all your favorites?” Janis says. “Satisfying.”

“Oh, yeah, it feels so good,” Cady laughs. “But what plan do you have?”

“Pick what you’re gonna wear tomorrow and make sure it has pockets,” Janis replies. “Big ones.”

“Where are you going?” Cady calls as she roots through her closet.

“Nowhere, hang on!” Janis calls back from the living room. She comes back with a necklace, a small cube, and a few other small stim toys she had ordered. Cady looks at them curiously as she pulls out a formal blue jumpsuit and blazer from the closet.

“What are those?” She asks as she rests it on their bed.

“Stim stuff. I made this one,” Janis says as she holds up the cube. “Julie sent me some of her old Legos, and then there’s a spring inside so it’s a little button. And it doesn’t make any noise or anything.”

Cady takes it curiously, pushing the button in the center a few times. “You made this? For me?”

“Yeah, of course. I made this too,” Janis says as she hands over the necklace. “I ordered the charm, it’s a chewy one, and then put the beads on so it’s not, like, obvious it’s a chewy necklace. I figured you could have it on if you wanted, it might help.”

Cady takes the necklace too, gnawing on the charm gently to test it out. Janis thought ahead, the chain is one she can handle. “Thank you, mpenzi.”

“And then I bought these. You can have them in your pocket and use them there, nobody would know if you didn’t want them to. They’d just think you were holding your hands in your pockets,” Janis says rapidly. “Oh, and you can borrow some of my shoes so you have room to move your feet inside, that won’t be noticeable either.”

Cady throws herself at Janis, knocking her backwards onto the bed and kissing her hard. “I love you so much. You’re perfect. Thank you.”

Janis kisses her back just as hard, tangling her hand in her hair and resting the other just above her bum. “You’re welcome, Butterfly. I love you too.”

Cady kisses her again gently, brushing their lips together a few times. “I’m sorry, by the way. I know I’ve been ignoring you this week, you don’t deserve that.”

“Babe, you’ve barely slept this week, and you only eat when I bring you food, I’m more worried about that,” Janis chuckles. “I get the rest of my life with you, wifey. I can handle a week for you to work every now and again. After tomorrow we get to spend more time together again anyway.”

Cady smiles at her. “We’ll do something special. I’m gonna shower, but I wanna cuddle you all night tonight. You’re right, I need more sleep anyway.”

“Okay, Kitkat. Have fun,” Janis says as she pushes her wife towards the en-suite. “I’ll be here.”

-

Janis remembers she forgot to feed Elvira her own dinner when she comes to plop onto her lap.

“Sorry, Ellie, I forgot to feed you,” Janis chuckles as she scratches her ear. “Let’s go.”

Elvira trots off to the kitchen, Janis following quickly behind her. Ellie meows at her when they finally reach the fridge, stretching up to peek in as Janis opens it.

“Hold on, you get a new can tonight,” Janis says in response to Elvira’s questioning chirp. She heads to the closet to grab one, noticing the air mattress on the top shelf they had bought for a camping trip. “Hm.”

Janis scoops out some of her food into her bowl and puts the can in the fridge, then grabs the air mattress from the shelf along with the pump for it.

“God, why is this thing so loud? Some of us have mattresses to blow up in secret,” Janis hisses. Once it’s done, she realizes she probably should have done it outside as she tries to shove it through the door. She grabs some sheets from the closet and the blankets from their bed, making a lovely little nest on their balcony.

Cady comes out of the shower as she’s fluffing the pillows, calling for her as she brushes her hair out.

“Jay? Are you okay? I heard noises,” she says as she comes out wrapped in her bathrobe. “What happened to our bed?”

“I’m fine, put on something warm and come here,” Janis calls from the other room.

“Okay,” Cady says nervously. “What are you up to?”

“God, you set a bunch of chickens loose in a school one time and suddenly you can’t surprise anyone anymore,” Janis jokes. “Just come here, you’re gonna like it.”

“I like your surprises, but you can be a little extra sometimes,” Cady teases. “Oh my god.”

“You like it?” Janis says. “We haven’t been able to do this for a whi-ack!” She grunts slightly as Cady leaps into her embrace, smooching all over her face.

“I love it, and I love you,” Cady says. “So much.”

“I love you more,” Janis teases as she carries her outside.

“No, I love you more,” Cady responds as she’s laid down gently. “I love you most.”

“Mm, you can’t win this fight, Peanut,” Janis hums, getting cut off as Cady pulls her down to kiss her hungrily.

“Then let me show you.”

————-

The next morning, Janis wakes up with Cady (very early) and makes a special breakfast with lots of fruit and protein. Cady eats happily but silently, once again giving a last proofread of all her materials.

Janis gives her a big hug and sweet kiss before she sends her out the door, Cady dressed in her fancy outfit, Janis’ shoes, and with her pockets full of stim toys.

Janis has to pack quickly once she’s gone, carefully but hastily packing their suitcase and carry on bags based on a list she’s incredibly thankful she had the foresight to make.

-

In the late afternoon, Janis picks Damian up in their Uber to Cady’s school to surprise her. He puts his suitcase in the trunk along with what looks to be a poster.

He shakes with excitement as he climbs in next to her, and they both chat excitedly about their plans for France. Before they know it, they’re at Cady’s university and ready to surprise her.

“Aww, you made her a sign?” Janis asks as she finally hugs him.

“Yeah, duh,” Damian says, showing off his ‘Congrats Doctor Heron!’ poster. “And it’s reversible in case of disaster.” He flips it around and shows it says ‘Good job anyway!’ on the other side.

“She’ll love it,” Janis says as she starts bouncing anxiously. “She’ll be happy to see you, too, she doesn’t even know we’re here.”

“Aww. I’m excited to see her reaction, do you remember when you threw that picnic before we graduated high school? That was nothing compared to this and she was so fucking excited,” Damian says.

“Yeah. She’s so cute,” Janis says. Her phone starts ringing suddenly. “Oh, it’s her, this is it.”

Damian squeals as she picks up and switches to speakerphone.

“Jay, I did it!” Cady calls loudly through the speakers. “I did it! I got it, I’m a doctor!”

Janis and Damian both start jumping up at down at the same time. “Congratulations, baby! I’m so proud of you!” Janis says. Damian stays quiet but is visibly trying to hold back his own comments. They see her come bursting out the doors then, running down the steps. “Hey, look to your right. No, other right.”

Cady looks to see her wife and best friend waiting for her and bouncing to get her attention. She runs towards them, laughing happily. “What are you doing here?! Oh my god, you made a sign and everything!”

“This is your surprise!” Janis laughs as her wife jumps into her arms. She spins her around a few times before Cady reaches out for Damian, so he pulls her into another tight hug to congratulate her.

“My best friend is a doctor!” Damian calls loudly as he also spins her around before wrapping her up protectively.

“Why do you guys have suitcases?” Cady asks confusedly, slightly muffled as her face is squished against Damian.

“Because we’re going on a trip!” Janis answers. “I told you to think bigger yesterday, this is it! Our flight is in a few hours, we have to go to the airport.”

“A trip?” Cady squeals happily. “Where are we going?!”

“France,” Janis tries to answer, barely getting the word out before she’s cut off by the most adorable squeal she’s ever heard and her wife leaping into her arms again. “Are you excited?”

“Yes! Of course I’m excited, oh my god!” Cady shrieks. “This is the best day ever!”

“Good! I packed a comfy outfit in your carry on, you can change at the airport,” Janis laughs happily as Cady kisses her over and over.

“Okay, come on! Let’s go, let’s go let’s go! I wanna go to France!” Cady calls, lugging them both towards the parking lot.

Janis and Damian both laugh as they’re dragged away. “Peanut, slow down, we have time.”

“Oh. Oops,” Cady says sheepishly. “But come on, I’m excited, let’s go!”

“We can tell, Cads, just slow down,” Damian pants. “Be excited at a reasonable speed.”

Cady’s bouncing now that they’ve stopped walking, having to get her excitement out somehow. “Janis, carry me, I can’t slow down.”

“Okay, come here,” Janis laughs, carrying Cady piggyback to their next Uber.

————-

Cady heads into the bathroom once they’ve passed security to change out of her formal outfit, but she leaves the necklace on and has the stim toy Janis made for her in her hand. She’s trying to gently stuff her poster in her bag as she walks back. She insisted on keeping it, even though Damian said she didn’t have to. Miraculously, she manages to make it fit without too much damage.

She tugs her carry on backpack back on as she approaches Janis and Damian again. “Where are we going in France?” She asks once they’re back together. Damian also looks at Janis curiously, she hasn’t told him either.

“Marseille, first. My family said we can stay with them for a few days, they have a huge house with tons of rooms. Then we’ll go to Paris and look around there,” Janis says. Cady gives yet another excited squeal and hugs her again. “Do you want Cinnabon’s? They’re right over there.”

“Oh, can we? I haven’t eaten since breakfast, I’m starving,” Cady says. She’s still bouncing and her hands are flapping happily, but she’s calmed down just a touch.

“How-wha-how do you have that much energy on just breakfast?” Damian asks with something akin to awe.

“I’m excited!” Cady almost yells, prompting several glares from those around them. She shrinks into herself slightly in embarrassment. “Oops.”

Damian chuckles. “Let’s go, my treat.” Cady perks up a bit and tugs her wife after them. She happily scarfs down her cinnamon roll and chatters excitedly about France.

They head to their gate to wait for their flight for a while, when Cady suddenly realizes something and scrambles for her phone. “I forgot to tell my parents! What time is it?”

“Almost exactly six,” Janis says. “So five for them.”

“Okay, they should both be home by now,” Cady says with relief. She dials her dad’s number, and he picks up on the first ring. “Hi Dad! Is Mom with you?”

“Hi Cady, she’s in the other room. What’s up?” Her dad replies.

“Get Mom, I wanna tell you together,” Cady insists.

“Okay,” her dad says, slightly confused. “Honey, it’s Cady, she says she has something to tell us.”

“Hello Cady,” her mom calls loudly through the speaker. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m good Mom! How are you?” Cady chuckles. For tech savvy people, they never quite got the hang of speakerphone.

“Good, hon. What’s this news you have?” Her mom replies.

“I got my PhD today! I’m officially a doctor!” Cady says, and quickly has to block the phone speaker with her arm to muffle the volume of their cheers and congratulations. Once it stops vibrating quite so much, she pulls it back to continue talking. “Thanks! Oh, and I won’t be able to call you for a little while. Janis surprised me with a trip to France, we’re going to see her family. And Paris.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” her mom sighs. “Take lots of photos for us.”

“I will. I love you guys, bye!” Cady calls, and hangs up before either of them can get off on a tangent and keep her there for an hour. “There.”

“Everything handled?” Damian jokes.

“Yep. Oh, that reminds me, Janis, can you... give me a rundown of your family again? I haven’t quite gotten everyone down,” Cady says shyly. To be fair, Janis has a lot of relatives and their names sound quite similar in a lot of cases.

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. She knows Damian probably needs a refresher too, the last time he got to come visit everyone was in high school. “My homophobic great-grandma finally died when I was in college so we don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

“Jay! Be nice,” Cady scolds. She’d heard bad stories about the woman, but speaking ill of the dead still doesn’t sit right with her.

“I’m just saying. Anyway, Nana Annette is her daughter, my grandma. She’s, like, eighty-five, but she’s chill. She might say some offensive stuff because she’s either senile or just old, but she means well most of the time. Her husband died when I was a baby, I barely remember him, so hopefully he won’t be around. Then there’s the aunts and uncles.”

Cady pulls out her phone to take notes, this is where things get dicey.

“Jean-Luc is the oldest, he’s the funny one. His wife is Béatrice, she’s... tense, but nice. The next one is Charlotte, she’s the single one who I’m convinced is a closet lesbian, you remember? She’s hella rich and just shows up sometimes with presents. Anyway. Next is Gabrielle, and her husband Charles, he’s the English guy. My dad was next, then Phillipe is the youngest, and his wife is Jeanne.”

Cady blinks, already terrified. “And your cousins?”

“They’ll understand if you don’t remember them all, don’t worry,” Janis chuckles. “Jean-Luc and Béatrice have Josephine and Jacques, they’re twins. Then they had Annalise, and then Luca, they named him after my dad. Gabrielle and Charles have Bella, Celeste, and Clara, Celeste is a bitch but the other two are nice. Jeanne and Phillipe have Emile and Sylvie.”

“Jesus Christ,” Cady groans, trying to keep everyone under wraps.

“Some of my cousins have babies too now, do you want their names?” Janis teases. “Don’t worry about it, guys. They’ll understand and I’ll make sure you learn everyone’s names. And we probably won’t see all of them, either.”

“Oh, babies? Yay,” Cady says. “I might as well learn them too.”

“Yeah, there’s a few that are still actual babies. Josephine and her husband just had Hugo a few months ago, and then she has Anabelle and Charlise, they’re like... four,” Janis says. “And then Bella has Benjamin, he’s a year old or so.”

“Aww. Okay. I’ll have to study on the plane,” Cady says, sending her list to Damian and shutting her phone off.

“Little Slice, no, I’ll study for us and fill you in,” Damian says. “You’ve studied too much in your life. Doctor.”

Cady smiles at the reminder of her new title. “Fine. Oh, is that us?”

Janis listens to the voice ringing out over the PA system. “Yeah. They’re not boarding us quite yet, but we should be ready.”

“Oh, yay!” Cady says happily.

—————

Once they finally board, Cady begs to have the window seat. Janis and Damian are both afraid of heights and let her have it willingly.

Cady wiggles happily as the light comes on to fasten their belts, looking happily out the window as they prepare to take off. Janis pops some gum in her mouth, and offers a piece to both her travel buddies. Cady takes hers and then takes Janis’ hand, squeezing it to comfort her. Janis squeezes back thankfully.

Cady offers her one ear of the headphones she has so they can watch a movie together. Janis takes it and rests her head on Cady’s shoulder, flipping up the arm rest and cuddling into her wife. Damian flips up his own and lies down over both of them, his head ending up in Cady’s lap as he does his own thing on his phone. Cady just laughs and plays with his curly hair.

After three movies, Cady falls asleep with her head on Janis’ shoulder. They’re about four and a half hours into their seven hour flight, and it is now around Cady’s bedtime. Janis finds Damian also asleep on their legs, and decides to let him stay even though hers are going a bit numb.

She turns her head slightly to kiss Cady’s hair, thinking about the events of the day. Twenty-four hours ago she had fallen asleep on an air mattress on their balcony after a wild night, held securely in the arms of her favorite redhead. Now, she’s several thousand feet in the air, cuddled up with two of her favorite people on their way to another country. Life is a hell of a thing.

—————

Janis is startled awake by the announcement that they’re about to land, and wakes Damian and Cady so they can fasten their seatbelts again. It’s about two in the morning according to their body clocks, so they all blink groggily and rub at their eyes.

“Janis?” Cady asks suddenly as they start to descend.

“Hmm?” Janis hums exhaustedly.

“Who’s watching Elvira?”

“Aaron,” Janis yawns. “He just wants chocolate as payment.”

“Mmkay,” Cady hums. The plane finally touches down and she gives an exhausted “Yay.”

Janis chuckles. “Come on, my cousin is picking us up and then we can sleep in a real bed for a while.”

“Which one?” Damian yawns.

“Annalise,” Janis replies. “She’s a morning person, she’s the only one they trusted to come get us.”

They trudge through baggage claim and out of the airport, down a long line of cars waiting to pick people up. Suddenly, a clear “Janis!” rings out with a brisk French accent.

Janis greets her cousin, who laughs at their exhausted faces. “Bonjour, Anna.”

They have a quick catch up in French as they load all their bags into the car, and Damian’s eyes suddenly go wide.

“What happened?” Cady asks in concern.

“Nothing,” Damian says hastily. “I... forgot they’d actually speak, like, French here. I thought I was just too tired to understand them for a second.”

They both laugh as they climb in, Cady squished in the middle since she’s the smallest. She’s not complaining, this way her head will land on someone’s shoulder when she inevitably falls asleep again.

—————

She wakes up several hours later in a soft bed in a room she doesn’t recognize, spooning Janis. She checks the adjusted time on her phone and finds it to be about one in the afternoon, which isn’t terrible. They have a few hours left in the day to get things settled.

She leans down to kiss behind Janis’ ear as lightly as she can, murmuring a quiet “J’taime tellement,” into her ear before cuddling back into her wife. Apparently she wasn’t quite gentle enough, because Janis stirs and turns to face her with a grin.

“J’taime aussi, mon papillon,” Janis hums as she leans in for a kiss. “How did you sleep?”

“Pretty well, I don’t even remember getting here,” Cady replies.

“I carried you in, you looked exhausted,” Janis says. “What time is it?”

“Just after one,” Cady says as she strokes through Janis’ short hair. “I still love this haircut.”

“I can tell,” Janis chuckles as she cuddles in closer. “You don’t miss the blonde, though?”

“I do,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “But this length is so satisfying to play with. And your shave is in an easier place to reach now.”

Janis had continued sporting the side shave, and stretched it to an undercut at the back of her head as well when she cut the blonde off. Cady loves running her fingers over the buzzed areas, and Janis certainly doesn’t complain.

“Guess I’ll keep it like this then. Should we go get Damian?” Janis says as she leans in for another sweet kiss. “Can’t let him sleep too much longer.”

“Yeah. Are we doing anything today?” Cady asks as she follows Janis out of bed.

“I don’t really have anything planned from this point, I just figured we’d walk around and if you find something you want to do, we’ll do it. But maybe we should start tomorrow,” Janis replies. “Nana’s definitely gonna throw some family reunion type thing tonight and make a shit ton of food, we should save our energy for that.”

“Aww. That sounds fun,” Cady says. “But also tiring, you’re right.”

“They are usually pretty fun,” Janis hums. “And Charlotte is coming, she tells good stories, you’ll like those.”

“Is she the one who told that story about the time you fell into that lake and came back to a picnic totally drenched and told me to watch you around water at our wedding?” Cady asks.

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles sheepishly. “I can show you that lake, if you want. It’s nearby.”

Cady nods excitedly. “Of course. Oh, and hey, guess what?”

Janis turns from the door she’s approaching to leave their little room. “What?”

“I love you,” Cady says, pulling her down for a kiss. Janis has to fight a squeal.

“I love you too,” she replies after a second. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Cady whispers against her lips. “I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you too. I want this trip to celebrate all of us. Not just me and Damian. You deserve this too.”

“Okay,” Janis whispers back. “Thanks.”

Cady chuckles. “You promise you’ll tell me if you see something you want to do, too?”

Janis kisses her soundly one more time. “I promise.”

“Good. Let’s go get D,” Cady says with a final peck.

“Okay.”

—————

“Damian!” Janis calls as she leaps onto his bed.

“Cheese and crackers!” Damian yelps, throwing himself to the ground. “Janis!”

“Jay, I swear to god,” Cady groans from the doorway. “That is not what I meant by ‘wake him up’.”

“It worked though,” Janis says as she helps him up. “Morning!”

Damian glares at her. “Hello, Jan. Is it actually morning?”

“No, it’s almost two in the afternoon,” Cady replies. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Damian says as he brushes himself off.

“Good. Janis says there’s gonna be some sort of big dinner thing, can you help me study everyone?” Cady asks.

“Yeah,” Damian answers.

“Oh, hold on a second,” Janis says, running from the room. She returns with a framed photo of her whole family from a few years ago. “Here. It’s old, but everyone looks pretty much the same.”

Janis sits in between them and points everyone out so they can match names to faces. Cady looks a bit overwhelmed, but eventually can point everyone out.

“I’m gonna go shower, if you stay here nobody will bother you guys,” she says once her part is done. “Have fun.”

-

By the time Janis is put together enough for a family gathering, Cady and Damian know all her relatives by name and how they relate to one another. Janis is kind of touched that they both put so much effort into learning everyone in her family.

She hadn’t quite been expecting every member of her family to show up, but they all make an appearance at some point. Cady isn’t big on crowds and Damian hasn’t spoken French since high school, so they both stick around her throughout the meal.

Her aunt Charlotte shows up fashionably late as always, with gifts for the three of them. She greets Janis with a hug and hands her a set of incredibly expensive oil paints, and then looks around for Cady.

“Where is the doctor one?” She asks in fluent but heavily accented English. Cady peeks up from where she’s crowded by all of the younger cousins, coming over to say hello.

“Bonjour,” she says shyly. Charlotte greets her and hands over her gift, which looks to be a tasteful diamond bracelet. Cady frantically leans in to whisper to Janis. “I can’t take this, this had to have cost at least a thousand euro.”

Charlotte, evidently, hears her whispers and laughs. “Nonsense, Cady darling. You are smarter than anyone here, you deserve my money even more than my dear Janis. I am glad she is spoiling you.”

Cady blinks a few times, before begrudgingly accepting her beautiful gift. “Thank you, it really is beautiful.”

“But of course. Now where is darling Damian?” Charlotte responds. Damian comes over from the kitchen to say hello as well, and gets a very soft cashmere sweater.

-

Janis struggles to guide her wife and friend through a family dinner, and Cady collapses on their bed by the time they’re excused.

“Did your dad actually punch your great-aunt in the stomach?” She asks with a slight chuckle. “Just, like, no warning, full force?”

“I’ve heard that story from a minimum of five relatives, so I think it’s probably true,” Janis responds. “But he was only about five. And I think the stories explain a lot.”

“Do you miss him?” Cady asks quietly. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” Janis says. “But I don’t think I miss him in the same way you miss your brother. Like, I wish I had gotten to know my dad, and I wish I had grown up with a decent father figure. But I didn’t really get to know him well enough to miss him as a person.”

Cady hums empathetically. “From what I’ve heard, you’re a lot like him anyway. But I wish those things too.”

“Thanks,” Janis mumbles. “I’ll take you around town tomorrow, we can see all the places from the stories.”

“Okay,” Cady grins. “J’taime.”

Janis smiles back as she cuddles into her wife. “J’taime aussi. Bonsoir.”

————-

The next morning, they both wake around eleven, starting to adjust to the time difference. Janis takes both Cady and Damian on a walk around the nearby area.

Cady laughs happily as Janis explains stories and where they happened, pointing out the shop where her mother met her father, the lake she had fallen into as a child, the tree her aunt had carved every family member’s initials into.

Cady stays behind for just a second at the shop, brushing a hand over the wall to thank it for sparking the events that gave her her beloved. She can almost feel the history inside.

For the time of year, it’s a remarkably cool day, and once they’ve stopped for a quick break Cady and Damian both ask to keep going. They go a bit farther than they had anticipated, into a larger area of the city.

Damian wanders off for a second, having spotted a sign on a building nearby. “Cads, come here, you read French better than me.”

Cady approaches, leaving Janis behind for a moment to join him. “Swim with... I don’t remember this word.”

“Dolphins,” Janis says suddenly from behind them, making them both jump.

“Swim with dolphins?” Cady asks. “Oh, that sounds fun! Can we, Jayjay? Pleeeeease please please?”

“Of course, Butterfly,” Janis says with a grin. “I’ll see what they have for tomorrow.”

“Oh, yay!” Cady squeals, hugging Janis tightly. Damian just cocks an eyebrow at them and joins the hug.

—————

Janis has to pin Cady to the bed to get her to sleep that night. But somehow by morning, their positions are reversed. Janis wakes up to her wife happily straddling her back, drumming her hands against her cheeks to wake her up.

“Caddy. What are you doing?” Janis groans sleepily.

“It’s dolphin day! I’m waking you up,” Cady responds far too brightly for eight in the morning. Janis grabs and pulls her back to cuddle.

“Go back to sleep,” Janis grumbles. “G’night.”

“Fine,” Cady chuckles. She should’ve known better, Janis never would’ve woken up this early anyway. She’s too excited to go back to sleep herself, so she rolls onto her side and watches Janis sleep. It’s rare that she’s awake when Janis isn’t, so she tries to memorize the way Janis looks while she sleeps whenever she gets the chance.

-

Janis finally stirs about two hours later, smiling as she sees her wife looking at her. She kisses her gently before she stretches. “Did you go back to sleep?”

“No,” Cady says. “I’m too excited.”

“You’re too cute,” Janis says, voice still rough with sleep. “It’s not ‘til three, babe.”

“Ugh,” Cady groans. She rolls on top of Janis again, straddling her front this time. She leans down to squish her face against Janis’ neck. Janis feels more than hears the words, “I wanna see them. Dolphins are so cute.”

Damian comes in then to get them up for breakfast. “Y’all-whoa! Okay bye.”

“Dame, come back! We’re not doing anything,” Janis calls. “I’m not that stupid.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Damian grumbles. “Breakfast is ready, your grandma made crepes.”

“Ooh!” Cady squeals, flying out of bed to get ready. Janis follows quickly, pushing Damian out the door so they can get dressed.

-

Cady eats more happily this time, now that she’s not surrounded by quite so many people. But now Janis has to keep her occupied until they get to go to the dolphins.

Cady is chattering excitedly, and poor Damian still looks exhausted. Janis knows he’s excited too, dolphins are his favorite animal, but he’s very much not a morning person. Janis isn’t quite awake herself. Time for some drastic measures.

“Peanut, do you want to look at some old pictures? I know Nana has some around here somewhere,” she says, griping internally.

“Like baby pictures?” Cady says excitedly. “Lemme at ‘em.”

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Janis grumbles. She returns a few minutes later with a photo album. “This is from just before we moved to America, I think.”

Cady makes grabby hands for the book and flips excitedly to the first page. Damian perks up a little and sits on her other side. Cady coos when baby Janis makes an appearance.

“Your little cheeks! Oh my god,” Cady squeals.

“Have you not seen any old pictures of Janis before?” Damian asks in confusion.

“Not this little, the only ones she’s let me see are from five and up,” Cady says as she turns to the next page. This one features baby Janis chewing on one of her feet. “Oh my god, look at you.”

“I’ve seen them, Cads, I’m good,” Janis chuckles. Cady flips the page again to one of her dad holding her.

“Is this your dad?” Cady asks quietly. Janis nods with a grin.

“Yeah,” she says. Cady looks back and forth between the photo and her wife.

“You look like him,” Cady says after a moment. “Dame, look at their jawlines. And-oh, Jay, smile. See? Exactly the same.”

“Shit, yeah,” Damian says, looking back and forth. “And the... is it their noses?”

“Yes! That’s what it is,” Cady says. Janis is confused, but happy that there’s such a strong resemblance. “My god, you were so cute!”

“Were?” Janis jokes.

“Oh, shush. You’re always on my case for calling you cute,” Cady says, gently flicking her ear.

“Yeah, yeah. I need to go shower, y’all can keep looking if you want,” Janis says, gesturing to Damian behind Cady’s back to keep her busy. He nods.

—————

By the time they’re outside the dolphin place, Cady and Damian are holding hands and bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Come on, dorks, let’s see some dolphins,” Janis says as she leads them into the massive building. It spans the area of several blocks, and a vast majority of it are large tanks and pools.

A lady welcomes them at the main desk and introduces herself as Bernadette, handing over their life jackets and taking them on a short tour. Upon seeing the slight confusion on Damian’s face, she switches to English and explains how they take care of the dolphins.

Cady looks relieved when she explains that the only dolphins here are ones that wouldn’t survive in the wild, and that they do rescues to help injured ones to eventually release back into the ocean. The tanks are absolutely massive with plenty of room to swim, and the water is kept at the perfect temperature.

Finally, they’re lead outside to one of the massive pools, and Cady gives a quiet squeal when she sees the dolphins swimming around happily. Damian follows Bernadette into the water first, yelping at the cold temperature.

“Ooh, it’s cold!” Cady squeals, walking around on her tippy toes until she gets used to it. The three dolphins suddenly swim over, sort of circling around her curiously. “Oh, hello.”

Janis follows after Cady, but the dolphins won’t leave her wife to greet anyone else.

“They seem to like you,” Bernadette chuckles. She swims over to introduce them. “This is Poséidon, and Daphné, and this here is Corail.”

She gives a command and one by one, the dolphins pop up on their tails and wave to them. Cady squeals when she gets splashed as they go back down, but claps for them at their impressive trick.

Bernadette guides them over to Damian with a bit of effort, and gives another command for Corail to pop up and kiss his cheek. He gasps in surprise since the command was in French, but chuckles at the sensation. “Aww! Bonjour, Corail!”

“Is that the first girl you’ve kissed, D?” Janis jokes.

“Actually, yeah,” Damian says. “Except you.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, what?” Cady insists. “When did that happen?”

“We were like, eleven, and trying to work out if we were actually gay so we kissed one time,” Janis explains quietly. “And we agreed not to talk about it again, Damian.”

Cady is laughing so hard she’s only held up by the life jacket, forgetting to tread water to keep herself afloat. “That’s so cute. Oh, bonjour!” She says when the dolphins return to her side.

“You may pet them if you like,” Bernadette says, pretending she didn’t hear the story. “All of you can.”

Cady happily reaches out to brush a hand over their smooth backs, in awe at the sensation. “Ooh! They’re so smooth! That’s so cool. Guys, come feel them!”

Janis and Damian swim over to pet them too, and Janis yelps a little when she first makes contact. “Oh, that’s weird!”

“They’re so cute,” Damian coos. “It’s a really nice feeling.”

“Their skin regenerates almost every two hours to help maintain the texture,” Bernadette explains. “Much faster than humans, to say the least.”

“They feel like wet rubber,” Janis says. “They are cute though.”

“Many people say that, that is a good way to describe it,” Bernadette laughs. She gives another command and Poséidon pops up and kisses Janis on the cheek. Janis yelps slightly and jumps back, but swims close again when Cady reaches for her. “Oh, I should have warned you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Janis chuckles. “Bonjour, Poséidon.”

He pops up again, seemingly waiting for something. Bernadette laughs. “He wants you to kiss him back.”

“Little man-whore,” Janis grumbles, but leans in to smooch his beak. Cady leans in on the other side too, prompting an excited chirp as he swims a happy lap around the pool.

Corail and Daphné seem jealous and also pop up for kisses from Cady, who obliges with a delighted laugh. They chirp happily and kiss Cady’s cheek in return.

“Aww, you have competition, Jay,” Cady coos.

“You’re gonna leave me for a fish?” Janis calls.

Cady gasps indignantly. “They are mammals.”

“Whatever, they live in water and don’t have legs, they’re close enough. You’re gonna leave me for a water-dwelling mammal?” Janis pouts.

“Of course not,” Cady says. “Come back, they’re sorry.”

Janis swims her way back over for a kiss from her wife. “You taste like dolphin.”

Cady laughs. “So do you, fish face. What happens now?”

“They can tow you around the pool by their fins, if you’re interested,” Bernadette offers.

“Does it hurt them?” Cady asks worriedly.

“Not at all, they actually seem to rather enjoy it,” Bernadette responds. “You only add a touch more pressure to the fin, if you don’t grab it too hard.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds fun!” Cady cheers. Bernadette shows them all how to gently hold the fins, each of them getting their own dolphin. Damian gets Poséidon, Cady gets Corail, and Janis gets Daphné. Once they’re all securely but carefully holding on, Bernadette gives a cue and the three of them set off. They go slower than Janis had thought they would, but she’s grateful that she’s not getting splashed or lugged underwater.

“Ooh. This is nice,” Damian says, cuddling into Poséidon a little closer. “Relaxing.”

Janis paid a fair sum for this experience, but she thinks it’s worth it for the tow. It is quite relaxing, and Cady is laughing brightly the whole way.

“That was so fun!” Cady calls when they’re done.

“I’m glad! If you would bid the dolphins a quick adieu, we can now move on to the shore activities,” Bernadette replies. She leads them out of the tank and offers them each a towel, and they return their life jackets as they dry off.

Once they’re not dripping anymore they follow Bernadette inside to a kitchen area, and are immediately confronted with the smell of fish. Damian has to tap out and waits for the girls outside. Bernadette greets and has a quick chat with her co-worker in French before grabbing a couple buckets of prepared fish and heading back out of the room.

“My apologies for the smell, but you get used to it after a while,” Bernadette says to Damian. He nods shakily and follows them back to the dolphins. They all rush up when they spy the buckets, almost begging like little dogs for a treat.

“Aww,” Cady coos. “Water puppies.”

Janis links their fingers together and leads them to the edge. Bernadette explains that she’ll have them do tricks, and then if they want to, the three of them will get to feed them the fish as a reward. Damian sits far away from the smelly buckets, opting to just watch.

Bernadette gives the first command and the three of them all hop up and wave their fins, and they wave back happily. Cady and Janis toss each of them a few of the small fish. She gives another cue and they turn away, facing lengthwise down. They pick some speed up and suddenly leap into the air, diving a couple times.

“Holy shit!” Janis yelps at the height they can get. “That’s impressive.” Cady and Janis toss them more fish.

Bernadette continues giving cues, prompting the dolphins to dance, come up for pets, shake hands, give more kisses, and even hop up next to them on the shore for a split second. Cady even gets to play fetch with Poséidon for a while with a small ball.

Once they’re down to about a quarter of the last bucket of fish, Bernadette stops giving the dolphins commands. They swim around the area contently, calming down after the exercise.

“Now, I understand you are an artist, Janis?” Bernadette asks, heading to a nearby cart.

“Um... yeah,” Janis says anxiously. “Kind of.”

“Nonsense,” Bernadette chuckles. “Your wife tells me you are very good.”

Janis looks at Cady in confusion. “Does she?”

“You are! You teach art to kids, for the love of god,” Cady says. “Just wait, this is awesome. You’re gonna love it.”

Bernadette chuckles and heads to a nearby cart of supplies, returning with several pieces of paper, brushes, and a few colors of non-toxic paint.

“Our friends here enjoy art as well, you all get to help them create their next masterpiece,” Bernadette says. Janis looks very excited. She got to paint with elephants in Kenya, so she’s excited to do art with another animal.

Bernadette places the brushes into a sort of hoop shaped thing, and instructs them to pick what colors they want for the paintings. Janis picks purple, blue, and grey; Cady picks yellow, pink, and green; and Damian picks black, pink, and orange.

The colors are squeezed into pallets, and they dip the brushes into the paint. Then, the hoop attachments are slipped gently over the beak of the dolphins, and they’re instructed to hold the canvas over the dolphins’ heads. All three wag the brushes back and forth, making bright streaks on the canvas.

The process is continued until all three colors are used up and the canvases are mostly covered, then they turn to see the beautiful works of art the creatures have made for them. It’s rather abstract, obviously, but they are very beautiful.

Unfortunately they now have to say goodbye to the dolphins. They kiss and pet each one before they have to go, waving goodbye sadly. Janis buys all of the photos taken of their experience, and also buys each of them a commemorative shirt and a stuffed dolphin from the gift shop.

Cady and Damian are both still shaking with adrenaline as they head home, chatting excitedly about their favorite parts. Once they get there, though, they start to crash. Cady’s almost totally asleep by the time they make it through the door.

Janis carries her up the stairs, Damian following closely behind them. He slugs his way to his own room, all of them deciding to take a nap before dinner. Janis has to wake Cady to get her out of her swimsuit, and Cady just tugs on Janis’ dolphin t-shirt and flops into bed, crawling under the covers and cuddling her stuffed dolphin.

Janis changes into other comfortable clothes since her shirt was stolen and crawls in after her, spooning her wife gently. She’s not quite tired enough to sleep, so she contents herself with holding her girl and remembering all the fun they had.

——————

A few days later, they head to Paris. Janis’ grandmother threw yet another dinner for them to celebrate, and insisted they come back for another visit soon. Cady promises they will, and Janis agrees.

Janis’ cousin takes them to the train station to see them off that afternoon. It’s about a six hour trip, so they’ll be at their hotel at around seven in the evening. Cady looks out the window the whole way, and Damian looks a bit green. He’s never been great with motion.

“So what do you want to see in Paris, Bluejay?” Cady asks, munching happily on the croissant she had gotten off the cart.

“The Louvre,” Janis replies instantly. “More than anything. And the Eiffel tower, I guess.”

“Oh, I would love to go to the Louvre,” Cady says happily. She’s interested in the art there, of course, but she loves seeing Janis in her element. “I’m excited to eat.”

“You’ll get plenty of opportunities,” Janis chuckles. “What about you, what do you want to see, Peanut?”

“I want to see the historical stuff. Like the Palace of Versailles and the Arc de Triomphe and stuff,” Cady replies. “Dame? You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Damian hums. He’s looking better now that he’s eaten. “I just want to go to Disneyland.” Cady suddenly looks very excited.

“I forgot about Disneyland! That would be so fun,” she squeals. They’ve managed to get Cady caught up on Disney movies and shows, but haven’t had a chance to take her to any of the parks yet. Now they have to go.

Finally, a lady’s voice announces their stop, so they all hop up and grab their bags. Once they’re above ground again, Janis barely manages to get them a cab to their hotel. Cady gets stuck in the middle again, but keeps leaning over them so she can see out the windows.

“It’s so pretty,” she sighs happily. She spins around as they’re dropped outside their hotel, staring up at the sky. It is rather beautiful, with the city bathed in the light from the setting sun.

Janis leads them in and checks them in to their rooms. She’d booked Damian one on a different floor, for his own sake. They are in the city of love, after all. Janis plans to make full use of it.

Cady enters the room first, immediately rushing over to the window. “Jay, come here.”

Janis comes up behind her, kissing her cheek and hugging her from behind. “It’s beautiful. That’s the top of the Eiffel tower over there.”

Cady turns in her embrace. “It is beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.” She giggles as Janis blushes. “I love you so much. Thank you for bringing us here.”

“I love you too, Butterfly. I’m glad I could. What did you think of Marseille?” Janis asks, pulling Cady next to her on the large bed.

“It was beautiful,” Cady replies. “And your family is... so lovely. I loved hearing all the stories and seeing the places that are important to your family. It was wonderful.”

“Good,” Janis grins as Cady leans up to kiss her. “Should we get D and find somewhere for dinner?”

“Oh, yes! Can we walk? It’s so nice out,” Cady replies, dragging Janis up by the hand and towards the door.

“We should change first, but sure, baby,” Janis says. “Come on.” They put on fancier clothes and Janis switches their positions, running down the long hallway towards the elevator and hauling her laughing wife behind her. The doors close behind them as they both try to catch their breath. Janis brushes her hands through Cady’s curls to smooth them back down. “Have you ever had escargot?”

Cady pulls a slightly concerned face. “No. Those are snails, right?”

“Yeah. They’re not bad, though, I think you’ll like them,” Janis replies. The doors open when they reach Damian’s floor. Janis leads them to his door and knocks. “D, we’re gonna go get dinner, do you want to come?”

He answers the door already wearing the hotel robe and with a sheet mask on. “Can I have a second?”

Both girls laugh and nod. Janis sighs when the door closes again. “We’ve been here for ten minutes.”

“It’s Damian,” Cady giggles in reply. “And skincare is important.” Damian comes back fully dressed and sans mask. Cady grabs his hand as well and leads them both back to the elevator.

Janis finds a restaurant within walking distance that has very highly rated escargot. She knows Damian hasn’t had it either, and wants to know what they’ll think of it.

-

They get to the place right as dinner service is beginning, and are led over to a table.

“They’re all so close together,” Cady says, having to wiggle her way in.

“They have a lot of people to fit in,” Janis replies. “Just how it happens here.”

“I’m glad we changed. Everyone here is so fancy,” Damian mumbles.

They continue making light conversation as they wait for the food Janis ordered to arrive. Finally it arrives, and Cady and Damian look more than a little concerned.

Janis pops some of the snails out of their shells, eating one herself and offering the others to Damian and Cady. They take them, looking to each other for confidence and eating them.

“Oh!” Cady says. “Thats way better than I thought, that’s so good! Way better than snake meat.”

“I told you,” Janis laughs.

“It’s like ravioli,” Damian says as he reaches for another. “But... snails.”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to put it,” Cady giggles. “How do you get them out?” Janis shows her how to use the fork to pop them out, and Cady follows suit once she knows how.

-

Many hours later, Cady cuddles up to Janis in bed, finally ready for sleep. “How long are we here, Jay?”

“We’re in Paris for a week,” Janis replies.

“A week?!” Cady says in shock.

“I wanted to make sure we had time to see everything you both wanted to,” Janis says. “And I have another surprise when we get home. But that’s kind of for both of us.”

“Jay, you’re spoiling me,” Cady whines. “Can I know the other surprise?”

“Nope,” Janis hums. “But I’ll tell you right once we’re back in America. And you deserve to be spoiled, Peanut. You’re a doctor, you’ve worked so hard.”

Cady grins at her. “Fine. Will you tell me what we’re doing tomorrow?”

“I don’t have anything planned,” Janis says. “What do you want to do?”

“The Louvre,” Cady replies with a smile. “I want you to tell me all about everything. I won’t even need a tour guide.”

Janis smiles back, leaning down for a kiss. “Sounds like a plan.”

Cady cuddles in close, nuzzling into her chest. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Butterfly. Sweet dreams,” Janis replies, holding her closer.

————-

Janis wound up being the one with trouble sleeping that night, struggling to fall asleep and waking up early. She decides to return the favor Cady pulled on the dolphin day.

Cady, as always, is asleep on her belly, so Janis rolls to straddle her back at her waist and drums on her shoulders. Cady gives a sleepy groan and pops an eye open to look at her.

“Jay.” She grumbles crankily. “Wha’ you doin’.” Janis leans down to kiss her cheek and around her ear.

“Good morniiiiiing,” she hums. “It’s Louvre day, I’m waking you up!”

Cady groans into her pillow. “Go back ‘sleep.”

“No, I’m too excited!” Janis says. “Come on, don’t you at least want breakfast?”

“Wan’ sleep more,” Cady moans. She shifts and Janis falls off her with a yelp, thudding to the ground.

“Hmph. I see how it is,” Janis grumbles. “Fine, you can sleep in, cranky pants.”

“Thank youuuu,” Cady calls into her pillow, and is snoring gently again within minutes.  Janis giggles and slides back into bed, stroking a curl away from Cady’s face and watching her sleep. She is actually too excited to go back to sleep, so she decides to make slightly better use of her time.

She heads to her carry on bag and pulls out the sketchbook and pencils she had brought along, before opening the window to sketch their view. She flips past the ones she did of Marseille to a blank page. The rooftops seem to stretch for miles, and she can just spy the top of the famous tower a ways away.

Cady groans sleepily behind her as she’s finishing shading in the skyline, rolling over onto her back and throwing her arms over her head. Janis decides she needs to work on sketching people more. She perches herself on top of the wardrobe and sketches her life, smiling lovingly at the little snuffling noises she makes every now and again.

“G’morning,” Cady groans as she finally wakes up, stretching and yawning before rubbing her eyes.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Janis chuckles, hopping down as Cady reaches for her. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, until someone sat on me,” Cady says, glaring at Janis.

“Just returning the favor,” Janis chuckles. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

“No way. You haven’t kissed or cuddled me yet, you’re not going anywhere,” Cady demands, pulling her back.

Janis laughs and cups her face, leaning in to press their lips together. “Can that hold you over until we eat?” Cady leans in for one more sweet kiss.

“I suppose.”

—————-

Janis takes Cady and Damian to a nearby bakery for some breakfast croissants. All of them eat outside, enjoying the way the whole street seems to smell like fresh bread and baking sweets.

Cady asks to walk again, wanting to see as much of the city as she can. Surprisingly, Damian agrees, even though he’s never been one for much physical activity. The Louvre isn’t particularly close by, but Janis also agrees to a walk. Saves having to pay for a cab.

“Shit,” Janis murmurs in awe when they finally reach their destination. “It’s big.”

“It says here it’s seventy-three thousand square meters,” Cady says, holding up her phone. “So yes, it is very big.”

“Very astute observation there, Janjan,” Damian teases. “Let’s go in, come on.”

“They have tours, should we do that?” Janis asks, pointing to a sign.

“We don’t need to,” Cady says, lacing their fingers together. “We have you.”

-

Once they’re past the impossibly long line to get in, Janis instantly heads off, hauling Cady and Damian behind her. She follows the signs to the area with the Mona Lisa first, knowing there’s going to be a large crowd for them to work through to see it up close.

“Wow,” Damian says when they make it in. There is a massive crowd in front of it, but they can still just barely see. Except Cady.

“Hang on,” Cady grumbles, grabbing their hands and somehow weaseling her way through all the people until they’re at the front. “There. Short people tricks.”

“Nice, babe,” Janis says, staring in awe at the famous painting in front of her. She rattles off all the facts about it she can remember from her years of study, before they move on to look at other things.

“Oh, that’s in Animal Crossing!” Cady says happily, pointing to a painting nearby. “What is this, lovey?”

Janis laughs at her excitement over finding the real versions of something from her favorite game. “That’s called The Summer. This guy did a few like that, with the faces made out of fruit and stuff.”

“It’s... nice,” Damian says confusedly. “Why did he do that?”

“Hell if I know. Most of the people who did these paintings were probably on some drug or another,” Janis says in reply. “Neat though.”

Janis leads them from area to area, explaining and listing facts about whatever Damian or Cady point to. It works well enough for all of them. They get to see all the famous works, Janis gets to see everything she wants, and Damian and Cady get explanations and extra facts from Janis.

“Wow,” Cady says when she spies the Vénus de Milo. She breaks away from them and wanders over to get a closer look. Janis follows her and leads Damian after them, since Cady is small and easy to lose.

“That’s the Vénus de Milo,” she hums in Cady’s ear. “She’s supposed to be one of the Greek goddesses.”

“Which one?” Damian asks.

"Nobody really knows,” Janis replies. “Most people think Aphrodite. Venus was her Roman counterpart, so that’s where the name came from.”

“Her dress is falling off,” Cady mumbles distractedly, making Damian and Janis laugh. “What happened to her arms?”

“Fell off,” Janis shrugs. “There’s a lot of theories about that too. They probably were just too heavy and broke away at some point. Some people think it was a shipwreck or something, I can’t remember specifically.”

“Hm. That’s interesting,” Cady says. “Oh, her foot is gone too.”

“Yeah, she’s lost a lot of stuff over the years. She had jewelry and stuff originally,” Janis replies. “Just lost to time one way or another.”

Cady leans back against her and turns her head to kiss at Janis’ jaw. “You’re so smart. I love you, art freak.”

Janis grins. “I love you too, math nerd.”

“Okay, time to move on! Chop chop,” Damian insists, wanting to get as far away from their sappiness as he can.

—————

“That was... really fun, Bluejay,” Cady yawns once they’re finally back in their hotel room, freshly showered and ready to sleep. “I love seeing you with art.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Janis replies as her wife spoons her. “Go to sleep, Butterfly, we have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Why?” Cady yawns again.

“I’m not gonna tell you, or you’ll never sleep,” Janis says. “It’s nothing terribly exciting, but they open early. We should be there pretty soon after it does.”

“Oh. Mmkay. G’night, love.” Cady mumbles, seeming content with Janis’ surprises for once. Janis had toned it down slightly, they were going to Disneyland Paris tomorrow. She’d talked it over with Damian, and agreed that he got to pick what they do tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Janis says, secretly giving a little hint.

——————-

She kisses Cady awake the next morning around eight. “Good morning, Butterfly.”

“Good morning,” Cady yawns. “Where are we going today?”

“I’ll tell you in a bit,” Janis replies. “I made sure we had cuddle time today.”

“Good,” Cady replies, pulling Janis down on top of her. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, actually,” Janis replies. “I think I’ve finally actually adjusted to the time shift. How did you sleep?”

“Good,” Cady says. “Nobody sat on me to wake me up today, I much prefer kisses.”

“Noted,” Janis chuckles. “For the record, so do I.” Cady gives a chuckle that says she already knows but has chosen to ignore that information.

“When do we get breakfast?” Cady asks after a long, peaceful moment.

“On the train,” Janis replies. “My cuddles not enough for you?”

Cady flicks her nose gently. “Yes, they are, but unfortunately I can’t live on cuddles alone. The train. That means somewhere pretty far away.”

Janis checks the time, it’s been about a half hour since they woke up. They should probably get ready now. She sits up, and rolls off of Cady so she isn’t thrown to the ground again.

“Dame and I decided we’re going to Disneyland today,” she says gently. As she expected, Cady flies out of bed with a delighted squeal and starts dancing around the room. Janis just watches her with a smile, until Cady leaps on her from above and kisses everywhere she can reach.

“Disneyland! Let’s go, come on, we have to get ready!” Cady calls, lugging Janis out of bed to shower and get dressed. She’s almost as excited as she was when she found out they were coming to France in the first place.

“Baby,” Janis says lovingly. “Breathe. You have an hour long train ride to get through first, we can’t have you leaping out the window when we’re going several hundred miles per hour.”

Cady comes back down to Earth a bit then. “Oh.”

“Come on, let’s get ready, Peanut,” Janis coaxes, turning the shower on.

-

Half an hour later, both ladies are showered and dressed in loose clothing and good shoes, before they head down to meet Damian. Cady leaps on him before he can even open the door all the way.

“We’re going to Disneyland!” She squeals when he yelps in surprise as a small redheaded rocket suddenly barrels into him.

“Good morning, Caddy,” he chuckles affectionately. Janis grabs her wife back, picking her up to carry her to the elevator.

“Come on, Peanut, let’s go,” she tuts lovingly as Cady clings to her with a delighted giggle. “Gonna have to get a leash for you.”

“Kinky,” Cady teases. “I’ll calm down.”

“No you won’t,” Janis retaliates. She doesn’t really want Cady to calm down, anyway. “I know you, wifey.”

“Fine, you’re right,” Cady agrees. “But I won’t run away. I need you guys to show me around anyway.”

“Happily,” Janis says as she finally sets her down.

—————-

Cady is already spinning around in awe when they’re finally outside the gates. Janis links their fingers together as she buys their tickets, and Damian grabs Cady’s other hand before Cady tugs them forward.

Janis buys their way into the park and squeezes Cady’s hand. “Where first, babe?”

“Oh, I don’t know! There’s so much,” Cady says happily. “Oh, can we get ears?”

“Sure,” Janis says. “Well, you can.”

“You don’t want ears?” Cady pouts. “They have a bunch.”

“Under no circumstances am I wearing Mickey ears,” Janis replies. “But you pick some, they’ll be cute on you.”

Ten minutes later, Janis is wearing ears. Cady has some on that look like Simba’s, Damian has a pair designed to look like Mulan’s costume, and Janis has been coaxed by her wife into a Maleficent themed pair. Cady takes a selfie of all of them with their ears, making kissy faces at the camera, and one with their normal smiles.

“Yay! Okay, I wanna see the castle,” Cady cheers as she puts her phone away.

“There’s a dragon too,” Janis says.

“A dragon?” Cady asks. “In the castle?”

“No, underneath,” Janis says. “This way, come on.”

Sure enough, the shortcut Janis takes leads them to a very large animatronic dragon deep in the belly of the castle.

“That’s so cool,” Cady says as she watches it move. “Look, you can see it breathe.”

“The wings move too,” Damian says, pointing to one. “And its feet.”

“Wow,” Cady says. “Can we go in the castle?”

“I think so,” Janis replies. “Line might be a bit long, but we can if you want.”

“It’s so pretty,” Cady sighs happily. “The waterfalls.”

Damian leads them inside and up to the second floor, where there’s a series of large and beautiful stained glass windows depicting the story of Sleeping Beauty. Cady leads them around to peer through each.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful up here,” Cady says. “But let’s go ride stuff, we can come back here later.���

“I wanna go on the Ratatouille ride,” Damian says quickly. Cady nods rapidly, and Janis is also intrigued, so Damian takes their hands and leads them that way. “It’s super cool, they’re not on a track. It’s all computers.”

Cady looks more than a little apprehensive at that. “And they don’t crash into each other?”

“No, they all have programmed routes, every car is different. Don’t worry,” Damian replies.

“Oh. That sounds fun,” Cady cheers. The lines are usually decorated with some sort of theme to match, and Cady looks around excitedly. Janis contents herself with watching her wife until they’re led onto the ride.

Janis has to admit that it is more fun than she had anticipated, it actually makes you feel like a little rat running around. But the best part is still Cady and Damian’s laughter throughout the whole thing.

“Where do you want to go, Jayjay?” Cady asks once they finish, still giggling slightly.

“Hyperspace Mountain,” Janis says immediately. “I don’t know if you guys would like it though, it goes pretty fast.”

“I’ll try it,” Cady says.

Damian says, “Hard pass,” at the same time. “You guys go, I’ll just look around.” He holds their ears and bags as they go to wait in line.

“Cads, are you sure you want to come? It’s a roller coaster, you didn’t like them last time,” Janis asks once they’re in line.

“That was almost ten years ago, love. Maybe I’ll like this one,” Cady says. “I’ll try anything once. And anything for you.”

Janis grins and leans in for a chaste kiss. “If you’re sure. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Cady retaliates.

“No, we’ve been through this!” Janis insists.

“And we’ve never reached a conclusion, so what’s your point?” Cady says with a chuckle. “This could continue until the end of time.”

Janis kind of hopes it does. They continue bickering until they’re fastened in. Cady goes quiet when she realizes where she is. She’s excited, but still nervous. She doesn’t have a great track record with roller coasters so far. Janis takes her hand and kisses her knuckles to help calm her down just before they shoot forward.

Cady’s hair is entirely poofed out by the time they get off, and she’s shaking slightly.

“Did you like it?” Janis asks as they head back to Damian.

“Uhhuh,” Cady says shakily.

“Are you lying?” Janis asks, knowing her wife.

“Uhhuh,” Cady says again. Janis laughs, but hugs her gently once they’re out of the way.

“You don’t have to come with me on anything else, it’s okay,” Janis chuckles as her wife clings to her. She seems better this time, she’s not shaking quite so hard and doesn’t look near tears. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Cady replies. “Just... maybe shouldn’t go on anything for a little while. I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“That’s fine, baby,” Janis says. “I’m hungry anyway, let’s find something to eat.”

“Oh, yay!” Cady cheers, always excited to eat. “Oh, Damian has something.”

“Hey guys!” Damian says as they finally reach him. “I found crepes.” He hands each of them a Nutella crepe he had gotten off a cart. “Nice hair, Cads.”

“Thanks,” Cady says, knowing she resembles a lion. She grabs her Lion King ears back to complete the look, before she ties her hair back in a ponytail to make it more manageable. “Ooh, this is good!”

“Yeah, for Disney it’s not bad,” Janis agrees around a mouthful. “Where d’you want to go now?”

“There’s a little Alice in Wonderland maze thingy over that way, it looks cute,” Damian says as he finishes his own snack. “And would be a good way to recover from the coaster.”

“Yes, please, let’s go there,” Cady says, already setting off. Janis and Damian hurry after her towards the maze.

They decide to split up and see who makes it out first. Cady winds up winning, jumping up and down as her wife and friend come out after her. “I win!”

“Nice, Cads. Must be some Kenya left in you,” Damian congratulates, ruffling her hair. “Where now?”

“There’s a pirate thing over that way, I can’t remember if it’s Peter Pan or Pirates of the Caribbean,” Janis replies. “That’s pretty chill.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Cady says. Janis leads them over to it and hugs Cady tight as they wait in line.

“Are you having fun?” She asks quietly as Damian sings along to the music playing.

“Yeah, I really am,” Cady grins. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Janis says back. “I am. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady replies.

-

By the time the sun is starting to go down, they’ve gone on everything they wanted to, eaten almost every food offered around the premises, and taken pictures with just about every character they could find.

They have enough time to stay and watch the fireworks before they have to catch the train back. Cady has exerted all of her energy, so Damian and Janis switch off carrying her piggyback around as they finish doing what they want to.

Janis has her as they watch the fireworks, bundled cozily in the matching Mickey Mouse hoodies they had bought when Cady got cold. Cady squishes their cheeks together as they both look up, their Mickey ears clacking together gently.

“I love you so much, Janis,” Cady says quietly as the last firework pops off in the sky. If Cady wasn’t so close Janis wouldn’t have heard. “More than words can say.”

“I love you too, Cady. More than any language can say,” Janis replies. Cady nuzzles into her neck and drifts off to sleep, so Janis just adjusts her grip and chats with Damian as they head out towards the gates.

—————

A couple days later, they head out to see the Palace of Versailles. They’d taken a day to recover from Disneyland, just staying in their hotel and spending quiet time together.

Cady has read up on the history of the palace, and is rattling off facts about each area they visit. Janis is very interested in the beautiful murals on some of the walls and the gorgeous statues scattered about. Damian is more interested in hearing about the royals who built and used to live in the palace. Cady tells them about everything they want to know.

“What if we had a garden like this at home, Jay?” Cady asks as they stroll around the sprawling grounds. Damian had wandered off and got stuck on a tour, so they’re waiting for him to be released.

“We would be very tired trying to maintain it,” Janis responds. “It’s so big, I’m tired just looking at it.”

“True,” Cady giggles. “But I think if we were rich enough to have something this big we’d be able to pay someone else to take care of it. Just think of how much hide and seek we could play here. I’d never run out of hiding spots.”

Janis laughs. “That’s why you want such a massive place? Just to play hide and seek?”

“Why not? What else are you supposed to do with it?” Cady asks. “Just walking around it must get boring after a while.”

“I don’t know that it would, it’s so beautiful,” Janis hums. “You could take a different path every day.”

“You could paint a different part every day, too,” Cady says. “And it must look different in every season, you could do four for each part!”

“You want four paintings for each bit of this place?” Janis chuckles.

“I always want your paintings,” Cady says quietly. “They’re part of you.”

Janis is almost stunned silent. “Thanks, baby. That’s why I love everything you make.”

“Even that shitty plate I tried to make you?” Cady giggles.

“It works! It’s a plate,” Janis insists. “I can still use it. The lumps are good for holding salsa and stuff.”

“And you say you’re not cute,” Cady responds. “I wonder how much this has changed since people lived here. Like, someone from two or three hundred years ago could have walked this same path.”

“I don’t think it’s changed much,” Janis says. “Maybe we walked it before. Past life, or something.”

“Could be,” Cady hums pensively. “You think we were together in a past life?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have been,” Janis says. “I definitely feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than I actually have.”

“I feel that way too, I just thought it was a cheesy ‘our souls are connected’ thing,” Cady giggles. “Oh, there’s Damian. Poor thing, he looks so confused.”

“I don’t think that tour he got stuck on was in English,” Janis laughs as they wave him over. “I told him he should keep studying French, but no.”

“How was it, Dame?” Cady asks as Damian finally makes his way to them.

“The bits I could understand were quite interesting,” Damian replies. “Lot of walking though, this place is big.”

“It’s massive! And everything is so detailed, I think I could walk around here every day for ten years and still miss something,” Cady says happily.

“Right? I almost plowed some people down because I kept staring at the ceilings,” Damian chuckles. “Anyway, have you ladies seen what you want to see? I’m hungry.”

“When are you not?” Janis jokes, earning her a whack from her wife. “Ow!”

“Be nice,” Cady scolds. “I’m ready to go, I’m hungry too.”

“I’m nice! This is just how we treat each other,” Janis insists. “You’ve known us for ten years, come on!”

“Yes, and I’ve been constantly exasperated with you two ever since,” Cady sighs lovingly. “Now come on.”

—————

They head to a chocolate shop on their second-to-last day in Paris, so Aaron can get the freshest sweets possible. Janis is slightly worried that they won’t be able to bring them on the plane, but she decides to cross that bridge once they get there.

“So what kinds of chocolate does your boy toy like, Dame?” Janis asks, looking at a small bag of truffles that she’s very interested in for herself.

“Anything, really, he loves candy,” Damian says. “Where did Caddy go?”

“I dunno, she said she wanted to see something,” Janis replies. “She went that way.”

“Hm. Okay,” Damian says suspiciously. “God, everything smells so good.”

“Fresh chocolate,” Janis responds. Familiar arms suddenly wrap around her waist from behind. “Hi, Peanut. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing,” Cady hums in a tone that says she’s definitely been up to something. “Did you pick something?”

“Damn, why is this so expensive?” Damian asks suddenly, holding a case of chocolates of varying flavors. “All of the stuff here is.”

“Because it’s handmade,” Janis says. “They make new stuff every day.”

“Jesus,” Damian sighs. “He’d like this, though.”

“Done,” Janis says as she takes it, working her way over to buy them with her wife still clinging to her. “Now, what did you really get up to, Butterfly?”

“I might have signed us up for an eclair making class,” Cady mumbles. “They said we get to eat the rejects, I couldn’t resist!”

Janis laughs. “That sounds fun, babe, it’s okay. When is it?”

“Now,” Cady says shyly as a man suddenly emerges from the back and greets them. They’re led to wash their hands and put on gloves and hairnets.

The chef gives the instructions in French, so Janis translates as quickly as she can. “Oh, shit.”

“What? We haven’t even done anything yet, what could’ve happened already?” Damian asks frantically.

“He says if ours are good enough they’ll sell them in the shop,” Janis explains. “Or at least use them as a display.”

“Ooh,” Cady says excitedly, paying even closer attention.

“Why is a little bread thing so complicated?” Janis asks in slight fear, as the chef adds flour to a milk mixture and cooks it out.

“But they’re so good,” Cady says, restraining herself from eating all the caramel ingredients and tasty chocolate within her reach. “It’s worth it!”

The chef instructs them through the process of making a sort of caramel custard while the eclairs bake. Damian has started taking notes on his phone.

They’re set loose then, to replicate what the chef has taught them from scratch. Cady starts what she remembers from making the pastry, adding milk and a few other things to a pan. “This already doesn’t look right.”

“Shh, no, it’s fine,” Janis says quickly. “Just keep going, it’ll be fine.” Miraculously, she’s half-right, by the time everything else has been added and combined it almost looks like the one done by a professional.

Damian helps Janis load the dough into the piping bag, Cady watching anxiously off to the side. Janis gets to pipe them out on the bakeware, trying to remember how the chef did it.

She butchers the first one. It turns out sort of lumpy and misshapen, but for her first try it’s not terrible. Unfortunately, the improvement for the others is rather minimal.

“What are you doing? The fuck is that?” Damian calls as she pipes one and twists the end the wrong way.

“My best! I’m doing my best,” Janis calls back. “Look, we can fix it, it’s fine!”

“It’s not fine, oh my god,” Damian says. Janis suddenly hits an air bubble, making one of the eclairs much shorter than it was supposed to be.

“And you’re not helping!” Janis says, piping a little more out. Cady is bent over double laughing at their interaction. “Get the egg wash ready, dork.”

Damian helps Cady get the wash ready, brushing it over the piped pastry and shaping them back to something approaching decent.

“There,” Cady says as she brushes tears of laughter from her eyes. “Good job, guys.”

Janis huffs as she rests the piping bag down and glares at Damian. “Thank you. I tried very hard.”

“I never said they were bad,” Damian defends as the chef helps them clean up to prepare to make the filling. He’s also laughing, apparently having understood most of the recent conversation. “I just criticized your every move.”

“And I appreciate that so much,” Janis says sarcastically. “You fixed them, they’ll be fine.”

Cady gets to make most of the filling, with the chef watching protectively nearby in case of disaster. For her first time making caramel, she does remarkably well. She yelps a little when it puffs up as they add the cream to make it a custard, but recovers quickly and keeps going.

“There, see? Much easier,” Cady says, looking meaningfully at her wife and friend. The caramel is only slightly burnt, but the chef tasted it and said she could get away with it. That was her goal all along.

The eclairs come out of the oven looking remarkably good, and Cady helps Janis prepare the piping bag for the filling. The chef watches them in amusement, and Cady suddenly realizes they’ve made a terrible error.

“Jay?” She asks as Janis fills the bag, blissfully unaware.

“What?” Janis asks.

“We’ve made a mistake,” Cady mumbles, trying to hold back laughter.

“What? What did we do wrong?” Janis asks sadly.

Cady giggles hysterically. “When is the tip supposed to go in?”

Janis’ eyes go wide, and Damian bursts out laughing.

“Shit. Um... how do... what do we do?” Janis asks.

“Take the filling back out so we can put it in?” Cady suggests. Janis takes the bag and scrapes the caramel custard back into the bowl frantically while Cady hunts for the piping tip. “There, problem solved.”

“How are we so bad at this?” Janis mumbles as Cady puts the tip in and holds it for Janis to refill.

“We’re American,” Damian answers. “And eclairs are, like, famously tough to make.”

Once the filling bag is properly constructed, Cady hands the bag to Damian so he can pipe the eclairs full.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Janis teases to get him back. “Look, you have to fill them more! What are you doing?”

“Okay, point proven,” Damian grumbles as he pipes in more on the other side. Cady covers them with the same custard once they’re all full, and then a piece of chocolate is rested on as decoration.

“Yay, we didn’t do that bad!” Cady cheers. “They don’t look that different from his.”

“Yeah, but how do they taste?” Janis asks. She grabs what is clearly the worst looking one and takes a bite, and her eyes go wide when it’s actually quite good. “Oh, shit. Guys, try it.” Cady takes a bite too, and she dances happily at the taste. Damian goes next, giving a surprised hum.

The chef tries one of his own, hiding his surprise well. He informs them that they’re not quite good enough to sell, but they look good enough that they can pick one to put in the window. They pick the best looking one, and get to take the rest home.

“Well that was certainly an experience,” Damian chuckles. “Nice pick, Cads.”

“Thanks! That was fun,” Cady says happily. “And we get eclairs!”

Janis chuckles at how cute her wife is. “Let’s go eat them all.”

—————

On their last full day in Paris, they finally get to go up the Eiffel tower. Damian and Janis are more than a little anxious, since it’s so high, but Cady promises to keep them both safe.

The sun went down a few hours ago, and the stars are out in full force. Cady leans up against the railing and looks out over the rooftops of Paris, thinking back on all the experiences she’s gotten to have over the last week and a half or so.

Janis comes up to hug her from behind as she spies Notre Dame, making her jump. They were warned about pickpockets, so they gave everything important to Janis to keep in her inner jacket pockets. Cady still gets startled.

“Sorry,” Janis says quietly. “Just me.”

Cady leans back against her and turns to smile up at her. “Just my favorite person in the world.”

Janis chuckles. “You’re pretty high on my list, too.”

“Good, nice to know,” Cady giggles in reply.

“Was this a good trip?” Janis asks, kissing her cheek and looking out. She can see the candy shop they got Aaron’s thank you present from the day before, and their hotel. It’s all lit up, and very beautiful.

“A great trip. I loved every minute,” Cady replies. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I don’t either,” Janis says. “We’ll come back soon.”

“We better. We can actually go places now that I’m not in school anymore,” Cady replies. “Thanks for bringing us here.”

“Of course. Dame, come here,” Janis says, reaching for him. He comes to join the cuddle, forming a group hug.

“I love you guys,” he says quietly. “Thanks for the trip, Janjan.”

Janis sniffs, crying slightly. “Both of you stop it, this is too mushy.”

“Aww, Jellybean,” Cady coos. “Come here.” She pulls Janis and Damian in tighter, both of them bending down slightly to cuddle into her shoulders. “I love both of you so much.”

“I said stop,” Janis whines. “God, I love you guys so much.”

“We are in the city of love, Jan, you can’t stop it,” Damian chuckles. “I don’t even want to think about what you two did in that room.”

“Damian Hubbard!” Cady scolds. “Behave.”

“Sorry,” Damian says sheepishly. “I’ll give you guys a moment.” He heads to the other side then, looking out over a different part of the city.

Janis pulls back from her wife and wipes her eyes gently, Cady cupping her face and running her thumbs over her cheeks.

“J’taime tellement,” Cady whispers, leaning up to press their lips together. Another thing to check off their bucket lists, making out on top of the Eiffel tower.

“J’taime aussi,” Janis replies between kisses. “Tellement.”

“We’ll come back someday,” Cady murmurs gently, ghosting the words against Janis’ lips. “We do have to go home.”

“Do you want to know your other surprise?” Janis asks. “Make going home a little easier?”

“Yeah,” Cady says excitedly. Janis grins.

“Remember how when you were trying to guess what I got you in the first place, you asked if we were getting a puppy? And I said no?” Janis asks. Cady nods. “I lied.”

“Really?” Cady squeals. “You’re serious?”

“I don’t kid around about puppies. I found a breeder who just had a litter of golden retrievers a while ago, once we get settled back home we’ll go choose one,” Janis replies, giggling as Cady kisses her passionately again.

“Oh, golden retriever puppies are so cute, yay,” Cady says, bouncing happily. “Elvira gets a sibling.”

“Oh, she’s gonna hate that,” Janis chuckles.

“She’s still young, she’ll learn to like them,” Cady says. “She’s only two.”

“Yeah, that’s, like, a lot of cat years,” Janis says. “She’s a moody teenager.”

“God, yeah,” Cady chuckles. “Sleeps all day too. Oh well, we’ll pick a puppy with a similar personality.”

“I think you’re right, though. They’ll get used to each other eventually,” Janis says.

“We’ll work on it,” Cady replies. “Good job, love, now I almost want to go home.”

“Good,” Janis laughs. “But for now, kiss me again.”

“Gladly,” Cady purrs, popping up on her tippy toes again.

————-

A week later, they’re back in New York and almost adjusted once again to the time change. Time for a puppy.

They’d gotten all the supplies they would need the day before and set up the living room, deciding to keep Elvira in the bedroom until they were ready to be introduced face to face.

Cady shakes with excitement almost the whole way, frantically fiddling with a few of the stim toys she’s recently added to her collection.

When they enter the shelter, they’re immediately swarmed by a flock of puppies, wagging their tails happily and sniffing their shoes. One hops up on its hind legs to sniff Cady better.

“Oh my god,” Cady squeals, in a higher pitch than Janis has ever heard from her. “Oh, you’re all so cute, how am I supposed to pick?”

Janis sits down and laughs as several clamber onto her lap, trying to kiss her face. Cady follows suit, shrieking in surprise as about seven suddenly swarm in and knock her onto her back. One makes it to her face first, sniffing curiously at her nose before settling in on her chest for a nap.

“Oh. Who’s this one?” Cady asks, waving the others away from her face and cradling the one resting.

“That’s Salt. You can change her name if you want,” the breeder replies. “She’s the smallest, and pretty lazy, but she’s very gentle.”

Janis comes over carrying three others in her arms, trying to keep them off her lap. She extends a hand for Salt to sniff and chuckles when she chomps gently on her fingers.

“What do you think, baby?” Janis asks, looking at her wife.

“I love her,” Cady says happily. “Look at that face! We have to go now or I’ll take all of them, get me out of here. I want this one.”

“Sounds good, Butterfly,” Janis laughs. “Come on, let’s go get everything sorted.”

“Okay,” Cady says, scooping up her puppy and following them. “Bye guys! Oh, god, all of you are so sweet.”

“Okay, Salt here is already spayed and microchipped, mostly housebroken, but she’s not trained in any other way. She’s also had all her vaccinations to date, and here’s a recommendation for a vet,” the breeder says. “We notify on our social media whenever one gets adopted, so if you’d ever like to meet up with any of her siblings you can get in touch with their families that way.”

“Aww, that’s great, you’ll get to see your brothers and sisters again,” Cady coos. “Now we get to take you home!”

Janis manages to wiggle the puppy into her new harness and clip the leash on, leading her wife and new addition out once the puppy has said her goodbyes.

“What should we name her, Cads?” Janis asks as the puppy sniffs at a tree.

“What was the name of that shop? From Marseille, where your parents met?” Cady asks.

“La Jonquille,” Janis replies.

“What does that mean? I forgot,” Cady says with a chuckle as Salt runs out of leash and falls down.

“The Daffodil,” Janis says.

“Aww! What about Daffodil? That’s cute,” Cady squeals. “And we could call her Daffy.”

“I like it,” Janis replies. “Come here, Daffy! Come here!” Daffodil comes running over and bumps into Cady’s legs. “Aww, she likes it too, she responded to it.”

“Yay,” Cady says, picking her up and laughing as Daffy licks her face happily. “Oh, goodness, we love you too.”

“Okay, you ready to go home?” Janis asks, scratching behind Daffodil’s little ears.

“Yeah,” Cady grins, taking the leash and holding hands with her wife with her other hand.

But I’m always home with you.

-

does one of the characters in this have my real name because I am just that lazy? yes. this work was a challenge for me, but so much fun to write. hope you enjoyed!

our status for requests is the same as it was in the previous work. I am still taking them, but be aware that it will be July until your work is released.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #aaron samuels #mean girls #mean girls broadway #mean girls musical

[peakyblinderswhore]

Request: michael gray x reader where the reader starts as his receptionist at shelby’s company and he can’t fight his attraction towards her, maybe he’s still married to gina and she’s seeing finn? jealous michael 😍

A/N: hey! feel guilty for forgetting about this one as it was hidden in the comments but i remembered and here it is. i hope you like what i did with this. also, thank you guys for helping me pick which one to write first, it really helped as i’ve been kind of going through a mini break form writing. i won’t be stopping anytime soon, though!

the people have spoken and i have delivered.

W/C: 2.1k

[one] [two]

Having next to no idea what you were in store for, you cautiously put one step in front of the other and made your way diligently towards the Shelby Company Limited building where you had been instructed to go.

You’d received a letter signed and sealed from Thomas Shelby himself telling you what you were going to be doing whilst working for his company. His letter was detailed enough for you to know that you were going to be a receptionist on the first floor but it was also vague enough for you not to know who you were a receptionist for. The letter described your duties as a personal assistant with a few extra duties for when anyone else in the building may need you.

It was, however, delivered by his youngest brother, Finn, whom you were non-exclusively seeing. He had been the one who had bagged the job for you and pushed Tommy to take you on. Finn knew how much Tommy liked to ‘give back’ to his community, helping out those who needed it the most.

It was a windy day and so you had wrapped a wool coat around yourself and pulled on a matching hat to hold your hair in place whilst also managing to fight off the cold from biting away at the tips of your ears. When you had received the letter, you had gone out and bought some clothes that looked more professional and matched a bit better than some of the things you already owned — which was hard considering this was going to set you back a few more pounds that what you actually had yet, making you grateful for the opportunity to make the money back as soon as you would. Finn had paid for your clothes and you felt so guilty spending money that you didn’t actually have yet, but he had insisted that for your new job you got some new clothes since you had been moaning about how worn and old the ones you currently owned were.

Thinking through every possible scenario that could be a bad start for you, you walked in your low heels to the doors of the building, not having noticed that you’d made it there already. Finn had mentioned something about Tommy’s assistant being Lizzie, to which you were mildly shocked, after hearing all of the stories Finn had told you about his family beforehand. You push the door open to reveal a large room, sparsely decorated with minimal furniture, there was a tall woman who you assumed to be Thomas’ assistant from what he had described in his letter.

She looked up from her desk and smiled widely at you, “Oh, you must be Michael’s new assistant,” she looked up to the clock on the wall above the archway you were standing underneath, “and you’re early, we like that here.”

She gets up from her seat and walks over to you, offering you her hand, “Lizzie Stark, love.”

You sigh, thankful that you’ve managed to get some bonus points in already whilst also being pleased that you’d been greeted by Lizzie first since you had no idea who you would be an assistant to.

After shaking your hand, she pulls you closer to her by placing an arm on your back, guiding you towards where you needed to go, “Up those stairs, you’ll see a similar layout to the one down here, you make yourself at home at the desk, move things about however you need them and Michael will make himself known in a few; he’s due here any moment now.”

Hands folded in front of yourself, clutching tightly onto the purse that held a few of the things you thought you would use while here, or to decorate with a few things to remind you of home to help make you more comfortable, you nodded your head and thanked Lizzie and headed up the stairs.

Sure enough, it was exactly as she had described, the desk was pushed into the corner a bit more but you assumed this was so that it was out of the way whilst no one was using it and decided to move it once you’d hung up your hat and coat.

Taking in your surroundings, you slowly began to underestimate the reach of the Shelby Company — whilst the walls were barely decorated, there were a few certificates hanging on the walls, almost blending in with their surroundings, so much that you almost didn’t even notice them.

You placed your purse on the desk and slipped your coat off while you were viewing all of the certificates. You were trying to figure out what the company was whilst also mentally noting some of the things you might have to ask for to help with filing and keeping everything organised. You were determined to impress whomever you had to and to keep your job for as long as possible — not that you were planning on losing it any time soon either.

Pulling off your hat, you turn to see if there was a cloak hanger for you to put your coat and hat on, only to be met with the observant gaze of a young man dressed in a three-piece suit and a tan coat to keep him warm.

You gasped, quickly placing your  hand over your heart, “You must be Michael.”

He stood, seemingly waiting for something to happen before he could make any further movements.

Whilst he stayed observing you, you suddenly realised that you hadn’t introduced yourself, you internally cringe and offer your hand, “How rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself; I’m —”

“You needn’t bother; I already know who you are.”

“Oh,” you simply say, retracting your hand and clutching onto your coat. You look around the room, waiting for him to say something to you as he seemed to know what he wanted.

Deciding that he most likely was waiting for you to say something, you open your mouth but close it again, not knowing what to say to him and frown at the floor.

His piercing eyes follow your head, watching your every move. He knew that he couldn’t show too much emotion as that’s how they get attached, right?

Michael blinks and holds his arm out, “I’ll hang your coat and hat up in my office with mine… I’ll also get Lizzie to send one up for you for tomorrow.”

Offering a small smile and backing away slightly, you say, “You don’t have to, it’s not a problem.” 

“I insist,” he stares right into your eyes, to which point you give in and pass over your things to him.

“Thank you,” you say.

He walks off into his office and you decide to try and make yourself useful by going over to your desk and perching on the chair provided.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper, head in your hands, resting on the desk, “what am I going to do with him staring at me like that all the time?”

Michael steps out of his office and leans up against the door frame, now in his suit minus the coat. You hadn’t yet noticed him but he was watching you as you were freaking out and whispering to yourself, what an impression, eh?

He clears his throat, you instantly lift your head, your face hot, and he begins to talk, “There’s a few things I need to get sorted, I’ve been away for a little while now but until then, you can set up your desk however you want and organise whatever files I give to you later on.

“I’ll also have some office equipment ordered in so that we have enough storage space; for now the one over there,” he points at a file organiser, “is the one you’ll be using. It’ll probably fill up quickly considering that I’ve been away. Anything you can think of that would benefit your workspace, let me know and I’ll get Lizzie to order some until I can get you fully supplied with everything you’ll need to assist me properly.”

“Alright,” you breathe out, “uh, how long have you been away?”

“Does it make a difference?”

Your eyes go wide, “It might help me guess how much work I’ll be getting until it regulates out later on… assuming that there are things that need filing from that time period.”

Michael grits his jaw and sighs, knowing that he can’t argue with that logic before replying, “Two years, give or take.”

“Thank you,” you reply as he pushes himself off of the wall. As he does so, you notice a glint from his left hand; you spy a golden band on his wedding finger.

You smile to his back, knowing that he most likely missed it completely but continued anyway. You had to uphold a positive image of yourself, no matter whatever came at you.

Michael pushes his door up but doesn’t close it completely, you sigh, knowing that he’ll be able to hear everything that you do if he wants to and stand from your seat. You perch on the edge of the desk and grip the edge with your hands. Biting your lip and crossing your legs at the ankle you take in the empty room. It was cold when it was empty, the light sconces warmed the room up but not enough, you wrap your arms around yourself and walk over to the sconces to see if you could light some more or somehow turn on some heating.

You’d worn a long-sleeve dress as Finn had told you that floor hadn’t been heated since it hadn’t been used for a while.

As you were inspecting the sconces and trying to figure out the heating or if it even worked on this floor, Finn bounded up the stairs, greeting you with a grin, “How’s it going?”

You smile and watch as he pulls off his glinting peaked cap and ruffles his hair slightly, “It’s good. Cold a little, but I’m managing.”

Finn chuckles, “Michael or the heating system on this floor?”

You shake your head and say with a smile on your face, “Heating, Finn.”

He steps closer to you and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head as you snuggled closer to his neck.

“Do you need anything bringing?” He whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of your face with the back of his finger.

“No, this is just fine,” and you hold him tighter.

The two of you stand for a moment, enjoying the other's presence until you look over Finn’s shoulder and notice Michael’s looming figure, watching from behind his frosted glass in his office. Startled, you cough and pull away from Finn, “Hey, do you think you could help me move this desk so it’s more centred? I think it’ll benefit in the future if I can reach everything within a few steps.”

“Sure,” Finn replies, “I’ll go get Isaiah so that we can move it for you,” he kisses your hair and says, “I’ll be back soon.”

After Finn’s footsteps reach the final step, Michael comes out of his office and you turn to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and his hands in his trouser pockets, waiting for you to say something to him.

Instead you stand, uncomfortable with the fact that Michael managed to see you with Finn and irk you the way he did, just watching.

“You and Finn, eh?”

“Yeah,” you say, brushing your arm up and down, feeling awkward like this in front of Michael and you let your hair fall in front of your face again, quickly thanking yourself for keeping it down this morning.

“That’s a shame.”

Eyes widening, you drop your arm to your side and whip your head to catch his eyes, “What do you mean?”

Michael takes a few steps forward, he brings his left hand out of his pocket and when he is inches away from you, “Because,” he says, breath fanning your face, “you deserve more,” he pushes your hair behind your ears, similar to how Finn had done moments ago, only Michael’s action sent thrilling chills down your spine when his hand brushed against your skin.

“But,” you whisper, unable to pull yourself from the spot you were frozen to, “you’re married.”

Without missing beat, Michael breathes out, “That’s a fixable mistake.”

Tags: @burnitup​ (requested by), @saintd0lce​

#michael gray #michael shelby #reader x michael gray #reader x michael shelby #michael gray x reader #peaky blinder imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #birmingham #1920s #littlemissshelby #littlemissshelbyreplies #jealous!michael #apparently thats a thing #gina shelby #receptionist #forbidden? #finn shelby

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Intern (CliffxReader Pt. 2)

Pt. 1 :)

Requested by @perawuat​

@tealaquinn​

Let me know if you wanna be added to either the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)

You grinned widely as you reached for your diploma. You looked out into the crowd, your radiant smile reminiscent of a sunflower as you looked to the cameras and did a peace sign with your left hand as you raised your diploma with your right.

You finally graduated.

You had a big job in a hotshot Hollywood production to show for all your hard work.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid...

You looked out at the crowd, spotting dozens of familiar faces.

You found your family among the sea of pride.

And by them, two empty seats.

Rick and Cliff couldn't make it. They were in Italy...

You sighed softly. It as a bittersweet moment. They were doing the best they could, you couldn’t be mad at them.

The next few days your family kept you fairly busy. They’d flown in from out of state. You didn’t mind the company. Especially since the summer felt a little empty without Rick and Cliff to deal with.

But as the summer wound down, so did your work.

You moved out of your old apartment, leaving Ziggy, Rowan, and Odie...

You moved into a high-rise apartment in west Hollywood.

It was your first time ever living completely alone. You had a place all to yourself, no brothers barging in or bathroom hogging sisters. No roomates.

And still...

....no Cliff and Rick...

Nothing....

You sighed, and muttered a despondent, “Groovy...” As you looked up at your new building.

You took a breath, and took the elevator to the fifteenth floor, and walked down the long hall to your apartment.

You stopped, seeing a bouquet of red roses at the doorstep. You wondered if it was from the apartments landlady... She seemed like an old fashioned person.

You picked up a card that came with it, expecting it to be complimentary.

But...you knew that writing.

You smiled a little, and sighed a little more cheerfully, "oh Cliff..."

You sighed, flopping onto the second hand couch from a garage sale that you’d hastily strewn in the middle of the empty living room.

Your living room.

You read the card.

Cliff apologized for missing your graduation and not being there to help with the boxes. He also added a million little things to make you blush.

You held the letter against your chest as you presided over the rows of brown boxes scattered around the room.

You smiled a little as you looked through the first box. The first thing you picked out was a framed picture of you and Cliff.

You smiled, knowing you'd finally made a life of your own, and that he was part of it.

And you knew you really had it together a few months later, when you were invited to a party. A big Hollywood party.

The movie you'd worked on had been nominated for a few Academy Awards, including for best cinematography...which you'd had a big hand in.

You met a few big names at the party, and a few familiar faces. The night was young, and you danced there with the stars and the writers that gave Hollywood it's lights. After a while you stepped aside to grab a drink. You looked at the scene, your new friends, and future.

Rick had been rigth all along... You were going to make it big.

As you took a sip of your drink, you overheard something behind a nearby table.

There were a few older and frankly snobby producers talking, and avoiding the younger crowd. They'd been talking about some projects they had been looking into.

The name Rick Dalton came up, and you raised your eyebrow in curiosity.

"Rick Dalton is an old, washed up chain smoking alcoholic has-been who's still waiting to happen!" The group of producers broke out laughing as he went on, "Won't be long till he drinks himself into a grave!"

Your blood boiled...

You'd been trying to get Rick to get help. You'd been making progress, until he had to go to Italy.

The producer went on, "Or worse. Lets himself go, gets a beer belly, and lets those pothead hippies melt his brain! And that pal of his, Cliff Boot."

One of the other producers corrected him. "Booth."

He nodded, "Booth. Killed his woman, didn't he? What's he still doing on sets? Bad luck. Don't want Dalton or that scumbag anywhere near me."

Another man stood between you and the circle of snobs. He smiled, "Say, aren't you that talented young lady what worked on that western?"

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

He smiled, "Say, O'Mara, this is the young lady that worked on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid!"

The producer that had been ripping on Rick and Cliff turned around, with a wide, yellow, broken grin, reached his hand out to shake yours, but you stepped away in disgust, maybe hurting your relatively young and vulnerable career. 

But to you  it was worth every second seeing those snob's blood boiling.

"Don't get too cocky, O'Mara. You wrote Rick Dalton's first check, and then ripped him off when he got too big for you. Of course he's having a rough time, you all turned your backs on someone that made every single one of you a pretty goddamn penny, while he and Cliff are scratching and barely surviving. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, listening to that fucking rumor like a bunch of teenagers listening to Paul Anka. The man's a war hero, for crying out loud, and you're a fucking draft dodger. So no. Don't ask me to shake the hand of a man who turned his back on people he owes everything to."

Before things escalated, the man that had attemtped to introduce you to the producers stepped in, spoke fast, made them laugh, and ordererd drinks all around.

As the producers picked up gossip about other 'has beens,' the mystery man took you aside, "I like your work, and I like your spunk, you're a good kid."

You smiled a little, and he went on, "How about I let you in on a little secret, kid? All those old boys back there? Tearing apart actors because they’re jealous. And when they’re not with each other, they tear each other apart, because they all want this." He raised up a briefcase.

"What's that?" You laughed a little, seeing the quirky, odd character gripping the case as if it were worth the world..

He smiled, "Well, kid, this here's the next big thing in Hollywood what's gon' get somebody an Oscar, or an Academy Award round this time next year."

"So you're a writer?"

He nodded with glee, "Writer, director, as of now sole producer. But I still need my crew, and my stars. And kid, I seen the wonders you've done down at NBC and for that picture. So, once I get this show on the road, are you willing to get in on it?"

You could not have felt happier, "Absolutely!"

He smiled, "Well then, I need some stars, don't I? How about I talk to your friends about this, huh?"

"M-my friends?"

He nodded, "Mr. Dalton, and his stuntman, I hear they're a damn good team!"

You nodded, proud that some people still knew them as what they were, "That's right, sir."

He smiled, "I pictured Rick in this role. It's not exactly his regular western character, but, it's new, its fresh! It'll give him a new face, a new chance! I see him as...." He grinned, looking into the distance as he waved his hands, as if the name was appearing in front of you on a screen, "Hudson Murdock! International spy!" He sighed in satisfaction, "We’ll knock Bond out  of the water! And probably knock that guy, Cliff into the water!"

You both chuckled, and he asked, "Think they'll be interested?"

"I think so, sir."

He smiled, "Please, kid, call me Rudy!" He handed you a business card, and then a pen and a paper so you could write your number, Rick, and Cliff's down for him.

He took the paper after you were done, and hid it away safely with the script he guarded with his life, "Be in touch soon, will ya kid? They'll be home from Italy, soon I'll bet."

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

He titled his head, "Come on, kid."

You sighed and smiled a little, "Rudy."

He smiled, "Alright, that's better, kid." He gestured to the growing crowd of young party goers, "Go on, have fun before the real work starts!"

Despite the rocky moments with producers, and the inevitable burning of a bridge or two, you couldn't get over the fact that you'd just gotten Rick and Cliff a new big shot in Hollywood...

Still, the adrenaline and fun started to wash down the more the night went on. By the time you were home that night, you were a little more than just uneasy.

Cliff was supposed to call you and let you know he'd made it home safe with Rick.

You were sure they wre going to get blind drunk together, 'one last time,' thinking it was the end of the line...

Of course, they didnt' know about your development...and you'd let them have their fun for the night.

You could wait a million years for Cliff.

Or...you thought...

It just wasn't like him

Even in Italy, he called you every single night. Now that he was home, there was no excuse.

You spent the next half hours or so debating and reasoning with yourself....

Maybe they knocked out because of jet lag? Maybe they were drunk because they drank on the plane? Maybe the phones weren't working? Maybe he went straight to get Brandy? Maybe he wasn on his way to yours?

The possibilities were endless....

Still, there was that constant, nagging, feeling wringing your heart...

Ringing...

The phone was rining.

On the third ring, you picked up.

It was Rick.

You glanced up at the clock.

12:55 AM...

Your eyes went wide as Rick quickly and calmly tried to explain every thing that happened in the last half hour without giving you a panic attack.

12:56 AM...

"HE WHAT?!"

Rick replied, "H-he's o-k, don't w-worry! He-"

"He got stabbed! And-"

"He-He'll be ok, Y/n, everything's fine!"

"And you? Are you ok?!"

He chuckled a little out of tension, but mostly because he just missed hearing from a friend like you, "I'm uh...I'm actually at the neighbor's right now. Everything's ok, Y/n, don’t worry."

"The Polanski's?" You felt a little ease in your shoulders, knowing Rick finally got what he'd been wishing for for months.

"Yeah..." You could practically hear the smile, "But I'll meet you and Cliff bright and early tomorrow. We're ok, honey, don't worry. Get some sleep, he's ok."

"Ok..."

Rick sighed, knowing you better than you gave him credit for, "Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yeah, Rick?" You held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you reached between the couch cushions for your car keys.

Rick chuckled, "Drive safe."

You smiled a little and shook your head once.

You practically raced to the hospital, giving Cliff and every other stunt  double in Hollywood a run for their moeny.

Your heart skipped a beat, stopped, and broke al at once when you saw Cliff again... After six months...t felt like a lifetime,

And it felt like even longer seeing him like that.

You knew he was going to be alright. Rick told you so. The doctors told you. The nurses told you...

But you didn't believe it until you saw him for yourself.

"Cliff..."

He looked up at you, clearly tired. Of course, the acid, the fight, the stabbing, and the morphine were behind that. Still, he shifted trying to get up to get to you.

"No, no, stay down, it's ok..." You sat by him, rested your hands in his and smiled softly.

To him you were nothing less than an angel...

Especially with the drugs (legal and illegal) and the bright white hospital lights behind you. "Y/n....you...you came? Told Rick to tell ya to get some sleep I-"

"That's crazy talk."

He took your hand and pulled it up slowly to his lips, and kissed your hand softly. He looked up with soft eyes, "I'm sorry, baby...I should've gone home, should've gone to see ya..."

You shook your head, "If you had, there's no telling what would've happened...Best not to think of that, not now."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

You shook your head, and rested your hadn against hisncheek, "Best is yet to come, Cliff." You smiled cheekily.... you'd tell him about the party the next day.

Until then... You gave him  a kiss, and said, "Get some rest, Cliff."

"Only if you do, baby..."

You nodded, "I will, I will."

He chuckled a little, through the meds and drugs, and mumbled and hummed "Dream a little dream of me..." as he fell asleep, holding onto you desparately.

Somewhere deep in his mind, he was scared you were a hallucination...He wanted to hold you enar and dear. He wished Italy and that night never happened. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

When you woke  up, it was nearly noon, and the sunlight was streaming through the blinds. You'd fallen asleep on the chair by Cliff's bed, with your head against his chest. His arm was around you still. And you could hear the warm hum of his voice through his chest as you woke up slowly.

You could hear Rick too.

"Goddamn, Y/n and Francesca are gonna get along, they sleep like logs."

You smiled a little as you stood up to hug Rick.

He smiled at you, and shook his head, "You wanna tell me how the hell you managed to save me and Cliff's careers in one night?"

You shrugged, and playfully "Hey, when you got it, you got it."

Cliff guffawed, but then immediately held his wound, "Shit, Y/n, you oughta be the one carryin' Rick's load then!"

You rolled you reyes with a cheaky smile and sighed, "Anyone would've done the same."

Rick sighed, "Oh, honey, you don't know Hollywood just yet."

Cliff said, "What we're tryna say baby is thank you."

"Ah, it's nothing." "You got us some work!" Cliff looked at Rick, and they were both relieved, knowing it wasn't quite the end of the line. "We knew you'd make it far..." Rick saw the way Cliff smiled and looked at you. It was all clearer now that Cliff wasn't wearing sunglasses. Rick smirked a little, as he chuckled, "I'll go ahead an' leave you two alone for a while." You covered your face as your rubbed your eyes, "Oh, come on Rick!" Cliff chuckled, "I wIsH!" You looked to Cliff, "Cliff!" He laughed a little as he reached out for you. You heard Rick closing the door as he left. You sat by Cliff again, and he kissed you. "Told you everything would be ok, kid." "Yeah?" "Yeah..." He nodded. "Rick was right. You made it. You're not just an intern anymore...and me and Rick are gonna be ok, and you n me are more than ok." You smirked a little, looking down a tthe ground for a moment, then back at Cliff, "Yeah, we are..." He rested his hands on the sides of your face, his thumbs pressed against your cheek. It wasn't something he did often, but you weren't complaining. Because in that moment, everything mattered. The past six months had been hell, and the past night was a nightmarish trip. His blue eyes were wide open then. Everything realy was ok... And you could see that in his eyes: The hope and love the 'washed up' stuntman hadn't felt in a decade or two. And he owed it all to you, the intern.

#ouatih #once upon a time in hollywood #cliff booth #cliff booth x reader #rick dalton

[schrijverr]

Behind the Scenes

This is a story that developed from a small peek into my brain whenever I write the stories you read into a thinkpiece about writing and posting fanfiction. 

On AO3.

Ships: none (unless you wanna ship me with my keyboard lol)

Warnings: none, I suppose, but it does get a little down in the end, I was having a rough day when I wrote this, sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~

I sit on my chair before my laptop. I’m curled into myself as my fingers glide over the keyboard and my thoughts flow out of my fingertips onto the screen.

It isn’t all that late, just past midnight, but it’s already dark outside and in order to see the keys properly I have to turn on the lamp I have on my desk. With the light it’s kind of cozy here in my little nook of the world.

I look to the screen and try to make sense of my own words. I don’t have a fully fledged idea yet, but a vague idea that floated through my brain at some point during the day has inspired me enough to open a new document and start typing.

I now know how this story begins and I see where I am going and how it will end, but the question of how I get there sits heavily on my mind.

I stop typing for a moment and think. If I introduce this character now, it might set some other things in motion and that’ll be good for the plot, but I don’t know how to write that character at all and I’m afraid that if I do it wrong, people won’t like me or my story.

I sigh and realize I’ve started almost every new paragraph with the same word. I hate it when I do that. The story starts to feel repetitive and as a non native English speaker I want to prove that I have a bigger vocabulary than that.

How to proceed?

A synonym, maybe? But I’ll have to look that up and I don’t think there is a good synonym for I. Sighing again I scan the page and think. Maybe I could start with a verb to shake things up a bit or a question. No, not a question that would feel out of place here.

Now I’ve written a few paragraphs again, so I could use the word I used before, but since I used it so many times already I want a bit more space between now and the next time I use it. So a synonym it is, I guess, I think as I open my browser to look one up.

…

There is no synonym for I.

Goddammit, I think. Well, it’s no use now anyway. I’ve decided to write this story in the first person, despite knowing I’m horrible at it, and now I have to deal with the fact that I don’t have another word for I.

I start my next paragr- no that’s not right. Backspace, backspace. Moving on to the next- No, not that either. Backspace, backspace. I look at what I’ve written last and wonder why I’ve written something upon which I can’t, hmm, what’s a good word there?

I know I have a good word in Dutch ‘voortborduren’, but when I translate it, it gives me elaborate, which doesn’t fit in the sentence at all. Mentally groaning I recline in my chair as I try to think.

Maybe it’s the sentence itself? Lets see what did I write again? Oh yeah: I look at what I’ve written last and wonder why I’ve written something upon which I can’t- and then I need to find a word. Hm, funny, I don’t know how to go on by the sentence about not knowing how to go on.

‘I look at what I’ve written last and wonder why I’ve written something upon which I can’t’, I whisper it to myself in the hope the right word comes to mind.

First there is nothing, but then! Expand! Not perfect, but it fits, which is good enough for now, maybe when I proof read it a better word will come to me and I can use that.

So, expand. I wonder why I wrote something I can’t expand upon.

Fuck, I’ve spend so much time finding the right word that I have forgotten what I was talking, well writing, about in the first place. Softly swearing under my breath I scroll up and read what came before the sentence with the stupidly hard word to think off.

Ah yeah, it was about the other stupid thing, namely that I am writing this in the first person, which I still cannot do, no that skill has not come to me in the time it took to look up a word. What a pity.

But I have started the last few paragraphs with something other than I from time to time. That at least is something. Wait, should I add punctuation there? That, at least, is something. Looks better, but maybe that is just my love for commas talking. I mean, why write a boring sentence with a dot in the middle, which makes it short and doesn’t give you enough space to play with it, when you can also add unnecessary punctuation, so that you can play with the cadence of how something is read out loud or in someones mind?

Whoops, now that whole paragraph is long, if I want to make this story easy to read I’ll have to make this one shorter. Hmm, is this good? Yeah, probably. Enter.

Now, I’m suddenly wondering, if paragraph is even the right word. In Dutch the word is ‘alinea’ and the word ‘paragraaf’ also means chapter, but not really, only in a school book. It doesn’t really make sense, because you also have a chapter in a schoolbook and that’s divided in paragraphs and each paragraph has ‘alinea’s’

Aaand I’ve distracted myself by thinking about the differences between each language instead of looking up if paragraph is actually the right word and it means what I think it means.

I look it up on Google translate, not the most trustworthy source for sentences, but for lone words it’s alright.

It is the right word, along with indention, but I’m not really familiar with that word, although I can see where it comes from with the paragraphs creating indentions in the text. Still, I decide to stick with paragraphs, cause “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and I live by that.

Looking back to the clock in the corner of my screen I realize that I’ve now been writing this for 40 minutes. It isn’t all that long, but I don’t know where I’m going with this anymore. I had a point when I began and now I’ve forgotten it.

I stretch my arms, by pushing away my chair, leaning forward until my shoulders are at the same height of my desk is. My right shoulder cracks, it has always done that, but the sound snaps me out of my musings and makes me pay more attention to my surroundings.

It is raining outside and I hear people screaming. They sound happy, probably celebrating something and drinking, but I still wondered what they’re doing up so late (ignoring the fact that I am still awake too.)

Right, my word document. I was trying to remember what my point was. No wait, not remember, recall sounds better. I double click remember and replace it with recall: I was trying to recall what my point was.

Although I have found a nice sentences with the best word to describe the action, I still don’t know what comes next. I suddenly begin to doubt myself. Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe I’ve read this somewhere before and I am unconsciously copying someone. Maybe I should just delete this and move on to something else.

I mean, come on, who wants to read this? No one. I’m just going to post it, knowing that no one cares and no one will read it. People don’t go to AO3 for original works, you don’t, so why would anyone care about it? It’s going to get five hits tops, with maybe two kudos, three if you’re lucky.

And now I have accidentally switched to a second person perspective, can’t even stay consistent. Maybe if I play it off as an introspection or and internal dialogue no one will notice or think it’s an artistic choice.

Pff, artistic choice. You can hardly call what I’m doing artistic. It’s just fanfiction, a hobby. Yeah, I know that is still good and can be great, even amazing and artfully written, but this isn’t. I have a too direct writing style for that. I’ve only been getting English education for six years and it’ll take so much more practice until I ever reach that level.

I’ve gotten off track completely now. I faintly remember that this started out as a mock internal dialogue of what happens when I write a fanfic, but now it turned into a self deprecating shit parade.

I blink long and hard, trying to get my head back on track and write something better, or at least more consistent.

Realizing that in order to do that I should probably scroll up and read (lets be honest scan) how I started. I don’t have the energy for it, but I force myself to do it with a sigh.

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Ah, yeah, I began with where I was and then that discussion about language and looking things up. Oh, but I’ve also reflected on what I’ve written before, well, before. Then it was about re-finding what I was doing after I had to look up a word and now it is desperately trying to remember what the actual fuck I was doing in an attempt to make something cohesive, but still. I decide to not do that again.

I still don’t know what my point was when I started this, but I’m making a new one up right now. I think I’m going to call the work ‘behind the scenes’ or ‘the thoughts of a writer’, since I have now decided that this is a way to get readers a peek behind the curtains.

As a reader, I can respect people so much for all the work they put into a story. And of course I’m not saying you can’t do that if you don’t write, no, that would be pretentious, but I do have more respect for them than before I started writing all those years ago.

It is really easy to forget that something you read in a few minutes has taken hours to write. This is not even 2k words long right now. I know I can read that in a few minutes, not even blinking and mostly forgetting, before moving on to the next story, but I have been writing almost nonstop for over an hour now.

I am lucky that I can usually keep the words flowing long enough to make some bullshit up that I can reason into a coherent story in the end, but that has taken practice. A lot of practice.

In order to become a good in writing a story you have to do it so many times and you won’t even notice you’ve gotten better until much later. I know this, because I recently went through all my works and made them better. Got all the typos out there, I fixed vague sentences and I made the lay out better. I also cringed a lot.

Well, I think I have to go with a ‘behind the scenes’ now, because I don’t think I can claim this is my internal monologue when I’m writing. Instead this has turned into a think piece about writing and appreciating it or something.

I don’t even know anymore.

I recall I had a point when I started this, probably thought it out and then my brain decided to throw it away and throw up this garbage instead. It is interesting, I suppose, but not at all what I was going for in the beginning.

Oh well, maybe I can fix it when I proof read it, because I am tired and I think I’m going to bed. I have half the mind to just fuck it and throw it on AO3 without glancing over my own words even once. It’s very tempting to leave others to deal with these honest words and pretend they aren’t mine, but I don’t.

However, I don’t think I will edit this that much, because it was nice to get some frustrations on, well not paper, but on screen. Just order my thoughts, you know?

It is hard to stay motivated when it seems that everyone around you is doing so much better than you. It is disheartening and it makes you want to stop.

I don’t.

I can’t.

Writing is what I do, it helps, it’s nice. I love writing and I don’t think I will stop loving it. But one of the reasons I love writing is because it can get the constant thoughts and ideas to stop swirling around in my head.

Today I needed it to stop, so that I could just go to sleep properly and I feel like this helped. It was honest and I feel better now. Tomorrow can come at me and I will face it like I did today. Maybe my last few fics weren’t to everyones taste and that’s okay, they were my taste and I love them and I am proud of them. For me that’s enough.

I would apologize for ranting, I usually do, but since you could stop at any time and leave, I don’t think I’m going to do that, what I am going to do, is thank you.

Thank you for reading this, despite the fact that it is not a fanfic. Thank you for allowing me to just dump all these thoughts on you. And thank you for being here and clicking it, your support, even if it is only an extra number by “hits”, means so incredibly much to me and I cannot put in to words how grateful I am that you are here.

Since it is now 01:18 and if I recall correctly it was 00:02 when I started, I think I am really going to stop now. Goodnight, or good-whatever time a day you’re reading this!

Goodbye :)

#RR writing #just me thinking #think piece #internal monologue #writing fanfic

[deans-baby-momma]

Past Haunts-Part 20

A/N: Guys! This is the last part. There is an epilogue that will be posted next Sunday but after that, no more Past Haunts. I enjoyed seeing everyone’s reactions as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. I am sad to see it go too!!! 

'He's lying,' I thought to myself. 'He has to be lying. No way, someone who looks like him was a virgin at 17 years old.'

"Dean, don't lie to me."

"I'm not Becks, " he tells me sincerely. "You were my first and I never regretted it."

"Really?" I tried to fight the smile but it crept onto my face.

Dean huffed a half laugh. "You think I would have been that damn clumsy otherwise.  Hell, I as nervous as a whore in church on Sunday morning."

*FLASHBACK (Rebecca's POV)

After Dean had kissed me, we went back to watching the movie. Toward the end of All Saints Day, I reached over and placed my fingers with his. He didn't acknowledge the movement other than the grin he got on his face. When the movie was over and the pizza and popcorn was all gone, Sammy began being the irritating little brother I had heard other kids complain about. He kept asking a million questions and I could tell Dean was getting annoyed. I pull some money out of my pocket and give it to the whiny kid.

"Here ya go. There's an arcade down at the end. Go crazy!"

Sammy's whole face lights up as he jumps off the bed. "Can I, Dean? I promise not to go any further."

Dean looks at me and then to his brother. He gets a serious look on his face and tells him, "No further. And if you see anything….suspicious come back here. You know the codeword. "

"Poughkeepsie, " Sam says with a nod. He grabs his jacket and heads out the door.  

Dean turns to me then. 

*END FLASHBACK*

"You weren't the only one! As soon as Sam left the room, I realized what I had done and, to be honest, I seriously thought I was going to be sick."

"I'm glad you didn't. Would've put a damper on the mood."

I laugh and notice Dean scoot closer on the couch.

"So you didn't get rid of my brother to seduce me Becks?"

*FLASHBACK (Dean's POV)*

As soon as the door shut behind Sammy, my whole body went on alert. I was alone in the room with a girl. What was I supposed to do? What was she expecting me to do? Do I just pretend that it's no big deal or do I try to kiss her again? Honestly, I want to kiss her again

And again and again, and more. But I don't know what she wants. What if Sammy had just been aggravating her too? 

I take a cautious step closer to her and she mimics me. A few more steps and she is right there in front of me. I can smell her strawberry shampoo, see her kiss-swollen lips. I lick mine as I tentatively reach for her.

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me. She loops hers around my neck and I go for it. This kiss is even better than the first. I take a chance and swipe my tongue across the seam of her closed lips. She gasps and it gives me just enough room to lick into her mouth. 

She tastes like heaven,  if there was a heaven. Our tongues wrestle for dominance. I revel in the feat as I lightly suck on hers, causing her to moan.

Next thing I know, we are laid out on the bed in just our underclothes,  her in her bra and panties and me in my boxers and socks. 

*END FLASHBACK*

"No," I answer him breathlessly and move towards him. "I had no idea what I was doing."

"Me neither," he confesses  as he reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. 

"Do you now?" I ask without thinking,  just looking into those green eyes. I cringe as I realize what I said. I really didn't want to know how many women he has been with all this time.

"I've gotten better," he says smugly. "I know not to use a sandwich wrapper as protection."

We both bust out laughing at that memory.

*FLASHBACK (3rd person POV)*

Dean nervously pulls Rebecca's bra straps over her shoulders.  As soon as there was slack in the bands, he reached around and unclasped her bra, having trouble with the fastener. He pulls the material from her body and drops it to the floor. He slowly lowers his head and places a gentle kiss to her pink nipple, flicking his tongue lightly across the hardening bud. 

He pulls away and sets up on his knees.  His dick thickening in his shorts. Rebecca lays on to her back and looks up at him. He hooks his fingers into her panties and leisurely pulls them off her hips and down her legs. Stepping backwards off the bed,  he drops the lingerie into the floor and, never taking his eyes from hers, drops his boxers and steps out of them.

Climbing back up the bed, he claims her mouth. He can feel his dick growing and rubbing against the outside of her thigh.

"Dean," Rebecca breathes out. Their eyes meet and they both realize that this is actually happening. They are about to have sex. 

"Do you have a condom?" she asks him and Dean internally chastises himself for not replacing the one in his wallet that his dad gave him when he became a teenager. A four-year-old condom probably wouldn't do the job properly.

He looks around and sees the cellophane wrappers from the sandwich he had for dinner the day before. He grabs the plastic wrapper and shake the crumbs off it. It keeps sandwiches fresh and dry so it should work, right? He wraps it around his length, making sure the tip is covered. Once he is confident that he is protected, he slides between Rebecca's legs and grabs the base.

"Ready baby?"

Rebecca is biting on her bottom lip but nods. Dean runs the tip along her slit and stops right at her entrance. "This might hurt and I'm sorry."

"Okay," Rebecca answers timidly.

Dean pushes past her folds and right into her body. Only the head though. Rebecca is so tight he knows it's going to take some work before he can get all the way in.

He leans down and captures her mouth in a kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips. Slowly he pulls out and pushes his dick back into her body, getting an inch or two further. They resume kissing as he continues the task of pushing and pulling until he is finally fully seated inside her. She whimpers and he looks at her, fearful he had hurt her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea, just keeping doing what you're doing. It'll get better."

Dean begins pumping into her as she becomes vocal with moans and grunts; he does too. Her tight channel squeezes him so deliciously that in no time he is cumming and he feels her body clamp down on him as she throws her head back in a wail. "Oh God! Dean!"

*END FLASHBACK*

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed with a laugh.  "I totally forgot about that! No damn wonder I got pregnant!"

Dean laughs along with me for a minute then becomes serious, "You know,  I really thought it would work. Rebecca, I didn't mean to…"

"I know," I assure him as I move next to him and turn to look at him. "And if I had had  a way to contact you when that test was positive, I would have." I look up at him and the expression on his face and in his eyes takes my breath away. The display of complete adoration and love is evident.

"I don't have any plastic wrap but do you-" I begin but am cut off when his mouth covers mine. I willingly open my mouth when his tongue sweeps across my lips. We kiss until we both need air and part ways,  panting. 

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Absolutely, Dean. I have loved you for 14 years. I want this. I want you."

Dean picks me up bridal style and I direct him to my bedroom. 

As we undress each other, we both take notice of the changes in both of us. He traces a fingertip along the stretch marks that litter my body and I observe the muscles and scars that weren't on him before. I kiss each one as if he is made of glass. 

When he drags his boxers off, I gasp. "You're,  um… bigger than I remember."

He smirks and leans down, kissing me softly. "Don't worry baby. I'll go as slow as I did the last time."

He grabs his jeans and pulls out his wallet. I see the foil packet as he rips it open and rolls the condom down his length. 

He crawls over me and hovers above my body. "I love you Rebecca Quentin. I always have." His kisses distract me completely as he enters my body. The feeling of being full overwhelms me and I have to disconnect from him to catch a breath. 

"Fuck Dean," I exclaim. "I forgot how good this felt." We lock eyes and breathe each other's air while my body adjusts. As soon as I adapt to him inside me, I speak up. "Ok, move."

For over an hour we are connected until both of us find our release, together. He reluctantly pulls out and away from me to discard the used condom as I glance at the clock. 

"Oh shit," I utter, clambering to get up and get dressed. "Whitney will be home in 15 minutes.”

When our daughter comes through the door, Dean and I are sitting at the kitchen table, as if just a few minutes ago we weren't in the throes of passion. Dean only stays for a few minutes after she arrives, saying he has to go pick Sam up and head out of town.

He gives Whitney a hug and it pulls at my heartstrings, seeing them together. He approaches me and hugs me. I can tell he doesn't want to let go; I don't either. Ultimately he pulls away and heads for the door, looking back at us one more time. We follow him to the door, watching him get in the car and back out of the driveway.

I hug Whitney to my side as we watch the taillights of that black car from my past disappear. The boy I loved, the man I love now, disappear with them.

"That was him, wasn't it?" she asks, timid and quiet.

"Who, hun?"

"My dad. That was my father, right?"

I look down into her usually bright green eyes, this time though they were dull and tear-filled.

"Yea," I sighed out. "Yea it was."

@vickiq9761​ @flamencodiva​ @mysteriouslyme​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @hoboal87​ @squirrelnotsam​ @spnbaby-67​ @natura1phenomenon​ @drakelover78​ @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @tftumblin​ @blacktithe7​ @lilulo-12​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @cpag7​ @austipoppa​

#dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #SPN #spn 4x13 #After School Special #Sam Winchester #rebecca quentin #angst #fluff #Smut #whitney quentin winchester #episode rewrite #cliffhanger

[heavenly-dio]

A Slightly Bitter Love Story 1

Within UA's office building, through the twisting corridors and dozens of offices, you would find the head office of one Nedzu, the genius animal whose eye for talent and strategy remained unmatched. Within this office, a particularly curious group had assembled. Nedzu himself- it was his office after all- One of Nedzu's trusted teachers, the ever logical Aizawa Shouta, and, oddly enough, the Rank 5 Pro Hero Miruko, arms crossed and foot tapping in annoyance.

The two humans stood behind Nedzu's desk, flanking the small rodent as they stared at the student sitting in the center of the room. They were tall for a 17 year old, and they had longer black hair that fell down their face in long wavy strands, although it was still much shorter than Aizawa's own unkempt hairstyle. The boy, whose face was twisted into a sour expression of frustration, sat with his arms crossed, glaring at the Rabbit Hero with as much heat and anger as she had been sending his way for the last 15 quiet minutes.

Nedzu figured it was about time they broke that silence. “Shogeki-kun, you could just say no, you’ve been glaring at that file fo-”

“Alright sick, later-”

“Sit your ass down, boy!” Shogeki Akira groaned in frustration while Nedzu just sighed, asking Miruko to keep her voice down. She harumphed loudly, crossing her arms and continuing to bare her teeth at her student intern. He gave her back just as much as she gave him, really really not in the mood for her shit today.

“Shogeki-kun," Nedzu decided to try again, "While I can’t force you to accept this offer, I’m sure it will be of great benefit to the both of us.”

“Look Nedzu-sensei, I get it, I really do, but how the hell would I benefit from this? I already have to deal with my classes and training, not to mention my internship with this bitch!” He gestured to Miruko, who just rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t have time for any of this, not that I would want to do it anyway.”

“Hey brat," Shogeki looked back over at Miruko, who had lost her scowl, "Quit being a jackass and actually think this through. The League has had a leg up on the heroes for too long, and we finally managed to catch one. This is a victory these whelps," She gestured to Nedzu and Aizawa with her head, "Desperately need. Now quit causing problems and put what I've taught you into action."

The student pinched his nose, trying to ignore the small bit of shame he was feeling that was quickly replaced with more annoyance. He turned to Nedzu, "Alright, alright. Let's say I agree to this crazy ass plan you've got. What then? I still have my classwork, plus my extra coursework for advanced classes, and hero training, and my internship. I'm running on fumes at the end of my days as is, I don't have the time to play babysitter to some blonde bimbo in a sailor outfit."

"We've thought it over," Aizawa spoke up, bringing the students attention to him, "And we're prepared to transfer some of your classes into a workload only structure. You'll be given all of your work for that class at the beginning of the month, and you'll be able to complete them on your own time- Lectures no longer required."

Shogeki hummed, "Alright, but what classes? Hero training is obviously not an option, I'm acing the entirety of mathematics, so I guess that? And Modern Hero Art History, not that I give a damn about that class anyway."

“Is that so?” Nedzu glanced over at Aizawa in the corner of the room, who returned the look with a dead stare. Looking back, the ferret-like creature shuffled around a few papers on his desk and said, “I think we can drop Modern Hero Art and Mathematics.”

The student blew air out of his nose in thought, before he sighed, nodded his head, and leaned forward to sign the paperwork. He shook Nedzu's paw and asked,  “When am I getting her?”

“We’ll have the police bring her to your dorm in about a week. We’ll make your classmates aware of the basics of the situation and we’ll help you rearrange your room to accommodate.”

“Yeah, that makes sense" I'm gonna nee- Wait, wait wait wait, she’s gonna be shacking up with me?! I agreed to babysit her, not marry the psycho.”

Aizawa jumped in with, “There needs to be a constant watch over her, so measures will be taken to ensure she’s never more than 20 meters away from you. Any chance she has to escape or cause harm to another student, she’ll no doubt take, so you can’t let her out of your sight. Hygiene and other more private concerns will be deliberated to a female classmate of your choosing, however the large majority of her captivity is your responsibility.”

“The hell is gonna stop her from slitting my neck in my sleep?”

“We’ll be changing the lock on your door from the standard deadbolt to a special electromagnetic lock that Power Loader is designing. It’ll only open when a current of 2 Million Volts run through it, a dangerous level of electricity that very few people in this school have the ability to interact with.”

“Alright, I see how she’ll be unable to escape, but you glossed over the bit about her maybe killing me.”

“All staff and students will be made aware that opening that door themselves will result in severe consequences, meaning that if she kills you, she’ll be left to starve to death.”

“Glad to see my safety is of such a high conce-” Miruko clocked him on the head, a sign that he should probably quit running his mouth. Growling and feeling a bit of blood in his mouth, he swallowed and gave up trying to figure out the situation and just stood up to leave. “I’ll assume you assholes won’t just leave me to die and take my leave then. Need to make sure I hide most of my important shit at my dad’s place, but I’ll wait on you guys to help with the furniture stuff. Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah, actually.” Miruko spoke up, “Stop giving the cops such a hard time, you’re not a pro hero yet, so the cops are gonna have to go through the standard procedures whenever you actually bag a criminal. It’s not their fault, so stop acting like a jackass.”

“I’m not giving them a hard time, I’m just showing them a video on my phone that I’ve found to validate my actions.”

“Oh god, it’s not Stain’s video is it?” Aizawa asks from the corner.

“No, it’s a video of me saying ‘Shogeki Akira is my intern and he’ll do what he wants’.” Miruko gave the second-year student a look like she was just asking him to argue with her. Well, if she was asking…

“Well, you did let me record that video.”

“Because that was the only way I could get you to quit calling me at 3 am from the police station every time your sorry ass got arrested for beating up thugs when you couldn’t sleep!”

“And I haven’t woken you up since, now have I?”

“Shogeki-kun, you can return to class now.” Nedzu interrupted what was quickly becoming a pissing contest before either of them could come to blows, or more realistically, before Miruko could beat him into the ground for disrespecting her authority.

The younger hero in training was only too happy to leave, saying over his shoulder, “I don’t have to go to Mathematics anymore, so I’m heading back to my room. Later boys.” A snarky handwave followed and it was only Aizawa’s capture gear that stopped the rabbit hero from chasing him down.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“Damnit man, I thought we told you not to get yourself expelled.” The voice that came from behind him was playful, if not still somehow mature at the same time.

With a heavy sigh, Shogeki looked up from packing a box with now-unneeded textbooks and over to his door, mildly upset to see Totsu standing there with his arms crossed. “Will you fuck off and leave me alone for once in your life, I’ve got enough shit to do without having to play 20 questions with you.”

“Oh please, we both know I’d kick your ass at-”

“Coffee table.”

“What are you, a wizard?! How do you do that?”

“You always guess coffee table first, even Hamada knows that, and she’s as scatterbrained as they come.” Totsu pouted, ignoring Shogeki’s very obvious annoyance and sitting on his bed. “What do you want, Totsu, I’m busy. I have to make room for a roommate, because being forced to live with all of you apparently wasn’t punishment enough.”

“Would you lighten up, it’s probably not that ba-”

“She’s a serial killer who’s killed over 90 people.”

“You’re complaining about sharing a room with a chick? Don’t you know that half of the guys in our class would kill to be in your shoes right now?”

“Did you literally not hear a single word I just said?”

“Wait, you’re tossing your neons?!” Totsu pointed to a box of neon wall signs wrapped in an excessive number of towels. “Dude, those are sick, I’ll give you 10,000 yen for them.”

“First of all, those are worth at least 500,000 total, so fuck off my dick with this 10,000 shit. Second, fuck you, third, I’m not tossing them, I’m taking them back to my dad’s place for safekeeping. Supposedly this bitch can kill with her teeth, so I’m not gonna give her chemical weapons in the shape of a glass pineapple.”

“Ooh, are we making fruit salads in here? I heard pineapple!” This time the voice was high pitched and feminine, and the face in the doorway was one made completely of water.

“Hamada, get out of here, we’re not making fruit salads, I’m movi- Why won’t you people leave me alone! Go away, Kikai!” Shogeki screamed at the large robotic student that had appeared behind Hamada, spooking them a bit. The robot charged down the hall, seemingly upset, leading Hamada to voice her thoughts on Shogeki’s rudeness. “Goddamnit, Totsu, go get Kikai and calm them down, I need to talk to Hamada about some shit.”

“Don’t go sleeping around, now, your new girlfriend will get all upset.” The shorter boy left with a cheeky laugh, ducking under a textbook thrown his way.

“Stupid bastard. You can’t even have sex, Hamada, your body doesn’t allow it… Right?” Shogeki shot the water girl a look, gesturing to her body.

“Well, not with you Sparky, you’d drive me a different type of crazy.”

“Can you not do this?”

“Like, I get what you mean, bu-” He shoved his arm into her shoulder and released a small shock, causing her body to lose its shape and collapse into a puddle, her clothes falling with wet smack.

“I get that you love talking, but seriously shut up for a minute.” She reformed just her upper body, sticking out of the floor and causing water damage that he’d probably have to fix later but whatever. “The principal is giving me one of those League bastards to keep an eye on, and there’s certain shit I can’t really do. You’re gonna be in charge of that shit.”

“Like what?”

“Like making sure she’s not turning a wall tile into a shank when she’s in the shower or something. Despite Totsu’s efforts, we don’t have co-ed bathrooms, so I’m not really allowed to be around when she’s showering, so you’ll have to tag in for that.”

“How’s it pay?”

“…Fuckin what?”

“How much are you paying me? This is a job right?”

“No, I’m not getting paid, so neither are you bitch. Got a problem, talk to Nedzu, now get out.”

“Fine, I will talk to Nedzu.” Hamada pouted, reforming the rest of her body and walking out of his room with her arms crossed.

With a deep sigh, Shogeki put the last few textbooks into the box and taped it up, carrying it down to the common room. He sent a message to his father to figure out a time to pick them up and went back up to his room. Taking a quick look around, he decided he’d done enough with his day and retreated back to his room, planning to lie down on his bed to wait until dinner. He used his phone to look up some extra info on this Toga chick he was gonna have to be putting up with. He was aware of the basics, just about anyone knew who the League of Villains were, and the names of the members had become common knowledge to most.

After 20 minutes of searching the internet, he still hasn't found any news of her capture. He had to give it to Miruko, when she decided she wanted to keep quiet she actually pulled off the impossible and didn't make a scene. Since he figured he wasn't gonna find anything he didn't already know, he put his phone to the side and crossed his arms behind his head. Once Toga was passed off to him, he fully expected his precious peace and quiet would disappear in its entirety. It would be wise to savor it while he still could.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

2-A Student Spotlight

Shogeki Akira- Male

Birthday- 8-10

Quirk- Electricity

Hero Name- The Gigawatt Hero: Shock Jockey

Heroic Rank 1

Academic Rank 3

6 foot tall, angry, tired, and rarely irrational. Extremely overworked and irritable. Top of the class, with a strong belief in the law. From a long family of servicemen. Black hair past his shoulders, often tied back. Piercings in his eyebrow, nose, ear and lips.

Artwork by Brabbit

https://brabbitwdl16.tumblr.com/

#mha #mha oc #mha ocs #bnha #bnha oc #bnha ocs #ASBLS #himiko toga #toga himiko #bnha toga #mha toga #fanfiction #fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia oc #my hero academia #MY OCs #my hero academy fanfiction #boko no hero academia

[devnny]

CHAPTER SEVEN.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

A SMALL RELIEF FROM DRAMA.... KINDA. i’m laughing i hate this chapter i hope you enjoy it, it was too funny to write

A crinkly set of snaps released themselves free from Devi’s backbone as she stretched in front of the kitchen counter. She shook her shoulders as a secondary effort to clear the bogging feeling of sleep out of her body, but it was growing useless at such a late hour. She gathered her newest cup of water and returned to her seat at her small dining table, across from Johnny, who was focused on what he was sketching. After sharing a late lunch one day at the same table, he migrated his drawing space from the floor of her living room to his new designated ‘spot’ in her kitchen.

Devi watched him with tired eyes while she sipped her water.

Johnny was doing exceedingly well with focusing on his work, but that meant him working later into the night with each passing session, which meant a later sleeping hour for Devi. It wasn’t like he needed her hovering nearby the entire time anymore, but she was still too paranoid to leave Johnny by himself for very long, since he was quite gifted with finding trouble to get into. Devi had let him drag on until almost midnight tonight, since he was so engrossed in whatever he was drawing, but her consciousness was finally at its limit. Pity that she slept so terribly before their meetings, otherwise staying up into the twilight hours would be no problem.

“Ugh.” She mumbled, gathering Johnny’s attention. “Okay, time to pack it up, Nny. My eyeballs are falling out.”

Johnny sulked, looking between his current project and Devi’s yawning face.

“Well…” His lower jaw stuck out a bit while he thought. One of Devi’s eyes twitched closed while the other listed to the side in mild annoyance.

“Well what, Nny?” She asked lethargically. He always had to make up some excuse to stay longer.

“…Would you mind if just— I mean, do you think I could just, stay and keep working? While you’re sleeping?”

Devi’s sleepy eyes blinked open at the question, but Johnny only sat motionless, looking at her curiously.

He really didn’t find anything wrong with a request like that? Just… staying in her home while she was asleep and totally helpless to being stabbed to death? The man that tried to slash her open twice, roaming around her apartment unattended all night long?

Her face pinched uncomfortably the longer Johnny kept his neutral expression settled squarely on her.

“Why?” Devi asked finally, internally demanding an explanation for such a dumbass question.

“I just don’t want to lose my concentration.” Johnny shrugged his body backwards, as though the idea tired him. “By the time I put everything away, and drive home, and unpack it all again, and sit down to draw, I know it’ll be all… fuck-y.”

Devi’s mouth tilted to one side. She could at least understand that feeling; losing your creative mojo simply by being interrupted from it for too long, even if ‘too long’ was something as miniscule as a five-minute phone call, or say, a quick drive home. But did he have to stay here?

She frowned the more she debated it. Johnny had proven himself to be… trustworthy. Mostly. More trustworthy than ever before, anyway. He had really stuck with his promises of self-betterment, at least with the standards she set for him, and he had successfully passed her ‘test’ that he wouldn’t attack her again, even when normal people probably would have. Maybe her brain was just tired, but she figured this could be a decent way to test his self-control again, in a way.

Devi groaned. She was putting herself in harm’s way a lot lately.

“Oh, fine.” She surrendered and got up from her chair. “Just keep it down.”

Johnny smiled at her from his seat and nodded.

“I will. Enjoy your sleep.” He offered casually, then returned to his sketching. Devi pursed her lips shut.

“Thanks. Night, Nny.”

“Goodnight, Devi.” He hummed contently, his hand scratching away in tight circles. She huffed and left to her room, locking the door silently behind her. No need for him to suspect her lack of faith in him.

--

HOURS LATER:

Johnny inspected his finished graphite drawing with his knuckles curled over the point of his chin. He was perched awkwardly in a lean atop one of Devi’s kitchen chairs, with one of his boots anchored on the seat and the other balancing his weight at the very top of the chair’s back. He chewed away at some unmarked leftovers that he had dug out from the back of Devi’s fridge, and tilted his head thoughtfully. It looked good, Johnny thought.

Finished! Devi will be pleased.

His head swiveled to the clock, and the content face he wore slumped into an unamused frown. It was already mid-morning! What a waste of time sleep was – Devi had been incapacitated this entire time, and he had been working for hours on end! He made a mental note to bring up the many valuable things sleeping got in the way of to her again sometime today; she had already shot down his many very good arguments against being asleep, but maybe his finished artwork would convince her.

It wouldn’t be long now – he hoped – that she would awaken, and Johnny wondered what he should do in the meantime. He stepped down from his post to ponder his options. He supposed he could make breakfast, or something like that, but he had already eaten a decent amount of Devi’s food, and didn’t expect Devi to eat much more than he could – he didn’t even know if she liked waffles or not. He made another mental note to ask.

The mild thoughts in his head rattled like marbles at a sudden thudding sound, and he realized as his mind quieted from the disturbance, that the sound was the apartment’s front door. His pupils thinned in suspicion, and he moved to one of the kitchen drawers. After a quick search, he brought up two knives, one in each hand. He weighed them both with a few lolling wrist motions, debating which one would be most effective in warding off any unpleasant intruders. He settled for the chef’s knife, and slid the drawer shut as the knocking started up again.

Johnny made his way to the door with slinky, quiet steps, only turning his attention away for a moment to watch Devi’s bedroom door for any movement. She was either not expecting anyone this morning, or wasn’t interested in having company. Either way, he would answer the door for her so she could rest.

There were no windows like his house had to inspect whom exactly was on the doorstep, and rather than look through the peephole, Johnny simply undid the locks and opened the door to see for himself. He only parted the door enough to allow his figure to fill the gap, and he stood in a hunch, exposing his weapon of choice to the unfortunate woman on the other side of the doorframe. He wasn’t even allowed the chance to speak before she shrieked to the high heavens.

“AAAAIIEK!!” Tenna screamed, holding Spooky close to her mouth afterwards for comfort. Johnny’s irises shrunk further at the grating sound, and he slunk back a ways, though he brought the knife up higher as if to warn her.

“Oh my GOD! I KNEW she was going to get killed hanging around you!” Tenna cried, then leaned forward thoughtlessly to attempt to call into the apartment past Johnny. “DEVI, ARE YOU LIVING!? I’M CALLING THE COPS.”

Johnny winced in annoyance and pushed her back out the door, making her scream from the contact.

“BE QUIET.” Johnny hissed. “Devi is sleeping!”

“YOU SICKO… YOU SICK, SICK MAN.” She languished, misinterpreting what Johnny meant by the comment.

--

IN THE ROOM ADJACENT:

Devi was almost at the comfortable end of a good night’s rest, something that she so rarely experienced the past year or so of her life. Most of her attempts at sleeping ended with exhaustion, after her overactive brain dragged her through hours of anxiety driven scenarios that barely made any sense once she was up and able to evaluate them.

Her body was only just rousing itself from the remaining strands of sleep that tethered her away from consciousness, when a piercing cry startled her awake. For a moment, she was half-convinced that the shriek was another figment from her tormented brain, until she heard Johnny’s familiar irritated voice yelling back at it. Devi shot up, realizing instantly that the other person in the conversation was Tenna.

Tenna, arguing with Johnny.

Good Lord.

Devi heaved herself out of bed as fast as she could to rush to the the living room, only to half-run-into her bedroom door when it failed to open. She cursed, having forgotten that she’d locked it, and hurriedly undid the bolt. The moment she flung the door open, both Johnny and Tenna turned their attention toward her, each surprised to see her awake. Johnny grumbled, unhappy that this guest, identity still unknown to him, had indeed woken Devi up.

Devi could only stare in horror at the large knife clenched in Johnny’s hand, and failed to hear Tenna joyously cry her name in relief that she had, in fact, not been murdered and mutilated by Johnny. Devi sped over to where the pair stood and angrily snatched the blade away from Johnny, wanting to disarm him before addressing the situation.

“JOHNNY.” She whisper-yelled at him, her loose hair pricking out over her forehead. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

Johnny didn’t look nearly guilty enough.

“This person was trying to get into the apartment.” He answered.

“SO YOU GET A KNIFE…”

“DEVI, YOU’RE ALIVE!” Tenna sparkled, hugging onto her shoulder with some rapid squeaks from Spooky. Devi shrugged her arm away, mostly because the arm she latched onto was the same arm that currently held a 10-inch kitchen knife. She wondered why all of her associates had such little common sense, but couldn’t dwell on it long.

“Oh.” Johnny spoke, more relaxed, but still annoyed. “You do know her, then?”

“Obviously.” Devi said through clenched teeth. “God.”

She managed to keep some composure, but still stalked away from her two guests to take in a few calming breaths for good measure. Johnny glanced at Tenna suspiciously, but closed the door as he expected Devi would want.

Devi went to return the knife to its proper place, and grumbled about her misfortune. She knew that eventually Tenna and Johnny would have had to meet, seeing as Tenna was, currently, her only ‘friend’, and Johnny was… there, but she didn’t want it to be like this. She was only grateful that the meeting hadn’t resulted in any bloodshed before she woke up to intervene. Devi patted imaginary flecks off of her tank top and sweatpants, then returned to the living room.

Tenna was lounging on the sofa comfortably, with one leg dangling off of couch’s arm, and Johnny stood off to the side, arms crossed and watching her like a distrustful cat. Devi sighed. At least the room’s atmosphere was less erratic now.

She took a seat beside Tenna on the couch, and got an upside-down, puzzled look from her friend.

“What’s he doing here so early?” She asked, adjusting her posture so she was almost sitting upright.

“—Late, actually.” Devi scratched her hair tiredly. “He stayed over to finish working on something.”

“He spent the night?” Tenna gasped, and Devi tilted her head backwards and away from Tenna’s accusing look.

“It’s not that serious.” She replied.

“Why does she know so much about my schedule here?” Johnny’s head lowered as he approached cautiously. Devi went back to rubbing her hairline.

“She’s my friend, Johnny. This is Tenna. She hangs out with me sometimes.” She gestured across to Tenna like she was on exhibit. Tenna sat up fully, a little insulted.

“You’ve never mentioned me before now!?” She puffed.

“WHY would you want me to bring your name into this? It should be considered a favor to keep knowledge of your existence from Nny.”

“Well he tried to STAB ME because he didn’t know who I was!” Tenna argued back.

Johnny frowned, closer to Devi’s side now. He was unused to having to share her attention with anyone else, and he certainly didn’t like it. It was worse than before, with those random, intrusive customers at the bookstore, seeing as Devi actually gave this particular individual a voice in the conversation.

“Why are you here, Tenna-person? Go away.” He asked sharply, and Devi perked an eyebrow at the rather possessive tone in his voice. Tenna gawked at him angrily.

“YOU’RE the one that’s not even supposed to be here! YOU go away!” Tenna shot back, and Johnny steamed in response.

“NO, NO. We are not doing this.” Devi stood up and offered them each an annoyed scowl, not at all fond of her attention being viewed as something anyone had a right to ‘have’.

“Johnny you were invited to be here, you’re fine. Shut up. Tenna you weren’t, but I begrudgingly accept your random visits, so you’re also fine. I don’t want to hear another word about who is and isn’t supposed to be in my house, or near me, or whatever. Okay?” She crossed her arms – what was this, grade school? Both Johnny and Tenna looked unhappy to not have the opportunity to keep yelling at each other, but agreed half-heartedly.

“Devi.” Johnny moved closer to her, as if he had to now with someone else in the room. “I finished my piece, it’s in the kitchen.”

He stopped, having a quick flash of recollection.

“—Do you like waffles?”

“…What?”

“Do you like waffles? I was going to make breakfast, but I didn’t know if you liked waffles or not.”

Devi stared at him lamely.

“I…” She was still not awake enough for this. “Yeah. Sure, yes, Johnny. I like waffles. Make me some waffles, please, for the love of God, waffles.”

--

ONE MORNING ROUTINE LATER:

“I didn’t even know I had a waffle maker.” Devi commented while she chewed. Johnny’s mouth was full, so he refrained from responding besides a quick nod, but Tenna had no problem talking with a mouthful of dough and syrup.

“REAL GOOD WAFFLES, TOO!” She laughed, forking another half into her cheerful maw. “I didn’t know he could cook things. I think you’ve got a keeper.”

“Oh, please, spare me.” Devi exhaled. She took her empty plate to the sink, and eyed the aforementioned waffle maker suspiciously. She was rather sure that she did not own this particular kitchen appliance, actually.

“Hey, Nny.” She turned slightly, and Johnny perked up on the stool that she had dragged in for him from her art room, lest he bitch and moan about not getting to sit at the table with her.

“Yes?”

“Where did you get this?” Her finger hooked downwards, toward the maker in question.

“Oh, I borrowed it.” Johnny looked to the side, hoping she wouldn’t pry more than that.

Of course, she did.

“You borrowed it? From who?”

“One of your neighbors. They left their window open.”

“You mean you STOLE it, then.” Devi stared at him angrily, and he tapped his fingers together.

“I was going to RETURN it after!” He insisted, but Devi wouldn’t hear it, and only rubbed her eyes in frustration.  

Tenna watched on in interest as Devi began chastising Johnny for stealing from her neighbors and potentially endangering her lease, and with even more interest that Johnny’s reaction was to mope and attempt to argue his point like a bratty child. She had been wondering how their relationship had truly developed after months of hard emotional labor on Devi’s part, but it looked as if she hadn’t been exaggerating his attitude about things – which was good! Maybe Tenna had less to worry about than she thought.

“—Ugh!” Devi flexed her hands in front of her like a pair of talons. “You’re impossible, Nny!”

“Oh, so stealing cheese out of my neighbors fridge makes me Public Enemy #1, then!?” He huffed back.

Tenna laughed; stealing cheese was funny.

“No.” Tenna interjected. “Cheese-thievery is a far cry from hacking people to death.”

“YOU SEE.” Johnny waved his arm backwards toward Tenna, as if Devi needed to visualize Tenna’s ‘defense’ of him. Devi moaned in social agony.

“Johnny—!”

“AH.”

“For God’s sake—alright, fine.” She caved. “It’s not murder. but it’s still not good, Johnny. Especially not when it can get ME in trouble.”

Tenna’s mischievous smile grew from watching them interact. The disagreement was winding down, and she thought she might help it along.

“Don’t be upset Devi!” She grinned, sitting backwards on her chair now. “At least his crimes against humanity have dropped from murder to theft, right?”

Johnny turned his head to look at Tenna questioningly, curious to exactly how much about him Devi had disclaimed. A lot, it seemed like. Devi grit her teeth, but snorted and shrugged it off.

“Yes. I guess I can take theft with a SMILE if it means you’ve stopped killing people.” She deadpanned.

Johnny flinched at the assumption, and snapped his eyes to the opposite wall nervously. The reaction did not go unnoticed by Devi, as usual.

“…Johnny.” She spoke warningly. He didn’t respond besides rapidly drumming his fingers against his pants.

“JOHNNY.”

“W-what!?” Johnny looked to the other wall, and continued to fidget.

“You HAVE stopped murdering people, haven’t you!?” Devi lurched closer to him, and Johnny tightened his posture before shuffling backwards and away from her.

“We-ell…” He looked up and around, anywhere but Devi’s face, which only made her fume more. Johnny stepped around the table, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that he might be able to use Tenna as a shield if this went south rapidly.

“You—I mean, it wasn’t like—there was never any mention about… stopping… err—”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!” Devi screamed, and lunged at him.

Johnny also screamed, narrowly escaping her swipes for him as he scrambled around the kitchen. She stopped for only a minute to gather her footing, and Johnny took the opportunity to again try to reason with her.

“DEVI, WAIT.” He sweated. “It’s really not that bad!! It’s not like I’m holding people prisoner in my basement! Just a couple… spur of the moment… killings! Nothing dramatic!”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—” Devi jumped at him again, causing a crashing sound of cabinet doors as her and Johnny tore along the side of her kitchen counter. “—YOU IDIOT!!”

Terrified shrieking and the clomping of metal-tipped boots trampled into the living room, leaving Tenna wide-eyed and curious about the sudden turn of events. She chewed up the last of her current waffle, and pocketed another two for later, before peeking out past the threshold of the kitchen archway. Johnny was frantically playing ‘monkey in the middle’ around the coffee table with Devi, who looked like she might beat his head in with the robot statuette she was wielding if he failed to keep the distance between them.

“DEVI.” Johnny called frantically, only to wheeze another scream when she hurled the figure at his head. She only barely missed. “DEVI, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO ASK ME NOT TO MURDER YOU?” Devi hissed, then vaulted over the table, tackling him onto the floor in a flailing ball of skinny limbs.

Tenna’s eyes followed the thrashing ball around the living room floor back and forth a few passes, before her smile returned with some ease. They seemed like they could work this out just fine by themselves.

“Okay, thanks for breakfast, Nny!” Tenna stepped around the carnage and toward the door, ignoring the shrill arguing and sounds of fighting.

“I’ll see you later, Devi!” She piped up again as she slid out the door, leaving her face inside just long enough to allow Spooky to say goodbye as well with a few energetic squeaks.

“AUGH, MY KIDNEYS—DEVI—DEVI—”

--

SHORTLY:

Devi’s breath was still leaving her body in short, angry puffs, but the pummeling she gave Johnny had eased most of her wrath out of her. Most of it. Johnny sat wearily on the couch beside her as she dabbed the rugburn on her elbow with alcohol. She looked up to the scratch on his cheek and frowned, more annoyed with herself for bothering to care about it. She slapped a Band-Aid onto his face unceremoniously, then closed her shabby first-aid kit and left it to sit on her still-misplaced coffee table.

Johnny jolted a little from the sudden contact on his face, but slouched back down after a moment. Devi sighed.

“What the Hell am I going to do with you, Johnny?” She grumbled into the air. Johnny let his clasped hands fall between his legs, pouting at the floor.

“I’m serious, Nny.” Devi looked to him, exasperated, and Johnny looked up enough to meet her gaze.

The day had been going so well, too, he thought. Well, beside the potential-stabbing of her friend and all that. He hadn’t meant to upset her again.

“I’m sorry, Devi.” He offered softly, and Devi groaned. She hated when he showed off that pathetic, passive side of his – it made her feel almost sorry about attacking him.

“Well ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix you killing people this entire time, you moron.” Devi stared at him and watched him shift uncomfortably from the attention. At least her voice was more casual now, even with the added insults, it just sounded like their normal talks.

“I don’t think it’s making anything worse.” He raised his head to her again. “It’s not as though bludgeoning any of those ass ticks makes me want to hurt you, Devi. It doesn’t make me bloodthirsty, or something.”

“That’s not what I’m bothered by.” Devi’s brows furrowed. “Ignoring the fact that it’s murder, it just proves your impulse control is still terrible!! It means the only things you’ve made any real progress in are art and not attacking me specifically.”

Johnny sulked again. In his mind, those were much more important accomplishments than not breaking a coffee pot over some dickhead’s skull, but he relented.

“I know. It’s easier to control myself when you’re nearby to threaten me with violence.”

Devi snorted.

“So what, am I supposed to do then, Nny??” She stood up and turned to him. “Do you need me to keep a constant eye on you? Is that what I have to do to get your murderous impulses in check? You want to just box up all your crap and move onto my fucking couch? Hm?”

Johnny’s previously downtrodden expression vanished, his face overtaken by his dinnerplate size eyes. He stared at her in surprise, uncertain if that was sarcasm or a genuine offer.

“Are… you asking me to move in?” Johnny asked, nearly breathless. Devi’s face went a strange color.

“WH—NO!” Her lower eyelids bent up while she grimaced. “I mean—well—NO.”

It definitely wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but it was rather plain that if Johnny was here, then he wouldn’t be there, at that shitty, old, previously-demon-infested house of his. Maybe that would do him good, being away from that place? She had only been in his house once previously, but knowing all that had occurred there, she was certain it didn’t put his mind in a good place to call that glorified shed his sanctuary.

No, there was no fucking way she was debating this.

“No, no, no, no.” She continued, pacing away from him. “Alright, I’m done for the day, go away. Go on, go home, Nny.”

Johnny shifted a little, aware that tonight was supposed to be another one of their tutoring sessions.

“…Do I come back tonight for—?”

“GO… HOME… JOHNNY.”

--

NEXT.

#jthm #jtrm #mine #devnny #im laughingggg god!!!! #tenna is here to make things.... better? #chapter

[carefulvenom]

Views

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha had pushed you away recently and she just can’t seem to leave your mind, and neither can the question of what you did wrong.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angsty and emotional. Cigarettes (?) There’s some bad language words in here as well. 

A/N: y’all...i’m sorry i suck, but i wrote something. it’s terrible. welcome to hell. also there may or may not be a happy ending!

-

The air is thin and cold tonight.

It’s dark and the day is over. Sure, work is good and it tends to boost my mood. People like me. I make good money and it's a distraction. But now that it’s Friday, I can’t help but think about how quickly my mood changes with the night. Walking out of the office doors remind me that there’s a whole other world of thoughts and feelings outside of the work I take pride in. Maybe I never did feel good. Maybe I just got good at pretending.

As I walk outside in the darkness with my cold hands clenched inside my coat pockets, I think of her. The one who I never expected to share my feelings with. She's the one who I never expected to have such a beauty that the smell of her lingers in my nose and I have to stop myself from going insane. Think I might not be doing a very good job at that, since being apart from someone so alluring like that is like being homesick. She's that someone, the one everyone never expects to sweep them off their feet - as cheesy as it is. It's her.

Natasha.

Her fiery red hair that makes me wanna sing, “Come on baby, light my fire.”

The cute smile and laughs she gives when she stops the cold deadpan every once and awhile. I always wonder if she only brightens up because of me. Was I such a strong connection that I helped her forget about all the weight of the world she carries on her shoulder?

There’s a possibility that I think too much.  

 Maybe after our talks in my apartment, cuddled up on that L shape couch staring at the stars out the window, she knew I was one she could trust. That even though our experience is nothing similar, the pain is. Maybe that's why she got soft on me. I notice a big smile creep on my lips. I wish she was here to stand on her tippie toes to squeeze my cheeks and peck my lips with a giggle, like she always did.

“Your smile is just too cute, I have to kiss it.” She'd say, with that soft, sultry voice. I'd stare down at her in adoration. She'd probably say she could see the love in my eyes.

But why'd she pull away? Why'd she stop? Why did she obviously want me to leave?

I shake my head violently to get rid of the thought. I don't wanna think about that anymore. Maybe I should try to stop thinking about her entirely if she didn't even try to talk to me.

The harsh coldness of the air seems to crack in my lungs when I inhale, and the steady exhale of my breath steams the air. I look up to the stars as my right hand pulls out my smokes from my pocket and the left takes one out and places it in between my lips. I light my cigarette as I start walking to the train. As soon as I get home I know I'll pour myself some wine and look out the floor-to-ceiling window. That window. Yeah, like something out of a movie. Picturesque with a sense of longing. If I look at the situation like a cinematic masterpiece maybe it won't hurt as much. Separate myself from the real.

 Natasha and I, we'd never called it official, but it was. We’d known each other for a while, I met her when I came into her office on a sales call. It started off soft, but strong. Little glances and wary touches, grazing of finger tips. There was undeniable attraction there. I’d finally came back into her job two days later, and asked her out. That took balls, and it was way out of character for me, but I knew that red headed woman with the alluring voice and plump lips was worth it. Rest was history.

5 weeks together was all it took to feel this strong. We were just us, and we felt comfortable in each other's grips. We laughed, and cried. We both felt that anxious warmth in our belly as we became more acquainted, and the feeling got worse as we were apart. Sometimes when she left the apartment I'd sit on the floor and lean my head up against the door. It all happened so fast, and maybe that's just because of the same-sex hormones in the air, but it was so god damned real. It still is.

  Until 2 weeks ago, she pulled away. She didn't call, she didn't answer my texts. I'd pace around the nearly empty apartment and stare the vacant space on the couch next to me. Looking at our messages was painful since I looked a fool, with my questions and lingering. I gave up after a few times. As my last hope, I waited for her to come with her choice of take out and a movie on Friday night - tradition - but she never showed. And that L shaped couch got even bigger and lonelier.

I arrive at the station and put my cigarette out in the smoker's post. I fix my hat over my hair, take a deep breath, and check my phone. It's 6:39 and the train arrives at 6:45.

“Nice,” I mutter to myself. “Home.” I sigh, and pull my hat over my eyes as I sit down on the nearest bench. It's nowhere near comfortable, but it's familiar. Finding solace in a routine is a smart idea if you feel string out and lost in the universe. That's why I like to clean the apartment in a certain way, start with paperwork first at the office, and wake up at the same time every day. That's why it was a bad idea to have a movie night with Nat every Friday. Should've known.

A loud grinding and screeching from a bit away seems to snap me out of my thoughts. My hand finds its way to the top of my hat, pulling it up so my eye can peek cautiously out. Got a habit of being either too careful or too careless. Standing up, I fix my hat and check my pockets for everything, and wait until the train comes to a stop to get on to the top level.

Train rides are the best part of my day, when I'm out. The scenery isn't the best, but it's still nice to look at as it speeds by and I rest my head back into the seat, legs stretched out in front me. I take my year pass out of my pocket and place it on the small table in front of me, available for the workers to check it while I put my hat back over my eyes and try to rest.

---

My internal clock, or rather, my comfort in routine, wakes me up just in time before I hear my stop being called. I mistakenly pull my hat off my eyes too quickly, forgetting that the brightness of the lights will burn my eyes. I wipe them quick, stretch my neck, and grab my pass. Almost home.

The steps down from the upper level of the train and then on to the platform seem to speed past me. Before I know it, I’m on the pavement walking quickly away, cold air blasting my face. My place is close to this station, so I don’t need to call a cab. My steps are quick, they always have been. I walk with a purpose, always needing to go fast so I don’t wait around. Nat always joked that it looked like I was making a “death strut” and I was “ready to kill.” I’d reply with some dirty joke about killing that ass. Shaking my head, I can’t help but chuckle to myself. I probably look like a fool, but I sure make myself laugh.

The door to my apartment complex is always tricky, but I get it unlocked moderately fast with my shivering hands. I make my way down the main hall and press the up button on the elevator. Taking off my hat and smoothing down my hair, I wait eagerly for the creaky old elevator to come. It’s funny, really, my apartment is modern and polished but this damn elevator is an old thing that brings screeching with every movement. It’ll probably crash sometime soon. Suppose it gives the building character.

The elevator slowly, and loudly, brings me to the 8th floor. One floor away from having a loft, I suppose. I make it out of the elevator alive and make a beeline for apartment 8C, keys jangling in my hand. Turning it slowly, I finally get inside the apartment. I kick my shoes off and throw my keys and hat on the foyer table to my left. Letting out a much needed exasperated sigh, I run my hands through my hair and stare straight in front of me. That big window, and that goddamned couch. It sure is a pretty view, seeing the stars twinkle and the building light in the dark with an occasional plane fly by. There’s a silence in the air and my mind, surprisingly, and I shake my head. Wine time.

My sock covered feet feel good on the hardwood floor as I stretch my arms above my head and start my walk to the kitchen. I pull out my phone and open it, wanting to put on some soft but still upbeat music to set the mood for getting weekend wine drunk. I reach the kitchen with my eyes still staring at my phone, grazing my Spotify library for something perfect. Wanna set the mood nice enough, wanna feel b-

I hear a throat being cleared.

“Hey, stranger.” I hear a familiar voice break the silence. I nearly jumped out of my skin and dropped my phone, with a gasp and a hand up to my mouth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Natasha nearly whispers, with a somber expression.

I freeze up. What do I do? What do I do? My mind is screaming at me, begging me to make a move or for fucks sake, say something.

“What are you doing here?” I finally squeeze out, swallowing the lump in my throat. I examine her, the piercing eyes and full lips. She looks beautiful, of course, but I know I don’t. My heart seems to squeeze yet beat a mile a minute. That warm anxiousness in my stomach is back again. What the hell is she doing here?

“I came to see you,” she fixes her lips and smiles. “It’s Friday.”

I look at her, confused. She lifts up her arms and reveals two plastic bags full of styrofoam boxes. Take out. I know it’s movie Friday, but she missed two of them. Why is she here now? I thought she wanted space. I thought she didn’t want to be with me anymore.

I figured instead of stand still and thinking of what I want to say, I’ll sit across from her at the kitchen island, and say it. “Nat, I thought you wanted space. You withdrew from me. You didn’t answer me, you didn’t call, you didn-” my voice starts to crack.

“I know.” She cuts me off. “I’m so sorry, I can’t even begin to explain what happened.” She seems eager to talk to me but scared, and her voice speaks volumes but it’s somehow...small.

She clears her throat again. I can tell she’s about to tear up. “I had gotten terrified. I realized that the way you held me and kissed me, and the way you understood me...the way you touched me,” she gulps, and looks up at me with those stunningly sad eyes, “I loved you. I love you. And I got scared. I’ve said it before to others but I never really meant it. Which is scary, because it’s been so fast with us, but I know it’s real.” She finishes, shaky and sad. A tear falls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away.

I grab the hand that wiped the tear, bring it down to the counter and intertwine my fingers with hers. She stares down at our hands, seemingly surprised, and moves her head up to look me in the eyes.

“Baby, I love you.” I smile brightly. The pain dissipated. “You’re amazing. I mean, I can’t really put all that,” I gesture to her body, “in words.” She giggles.

“Let alone how you make me feel,” I breathe out and shake my head in joy. “Every single thing about you, Nat. I swear.”

I wanted to continue, but she leans over the counter to kiss me. Our lips crash and I taste all the beauty and love I felt once again. I put my hands on her face, cupping her cheeks and kissing her deeply. I pull away, and stare into her eyes as I swipe my thumb across her cheek. So fucking beautiful.

She gets up and puts her hand out in front of me, asking me to take it. Intrigued, I put my hand in hers and stand up, as she walks me to the couch. I look down at her, being slightly taller than her, and I take in the beautiful red hair and her scent --gardenias. She gestures for me to sit down with her hands excitedly. She always acts like she owns this place, stealing my clothes and making all the calls. She gets it though, since she knows I have all the power in the bedroom. I chuckle to myself yet again. She plops herself in my lap, and kisses my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, the solemn, longing expression making an appearance again. “I wanna be with you. Us, together, no space.”

I tuck her hair behind her ear, and kiss it. “Space is the last thing I want from you.” I whisper, and grab her face to kiss her again. I’ve been waiting for this. I needed this. I needed her.

As she pulls away and looks at me, biting her lip, a question arises in my mind. “How did you get in here? The door was locked.”

“Fire escape. Bedroom window.” she snickers, and licks her lips. “Beautiful as ever, babe.” she whispers and gently starts kissing my neck. I gasp and throw my head back, and as I open my eyes, I see the view out of the window.

----

tags: @obrreogneon, @rogmobile

#nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #my writing #eeeeee im nervous

[dresupi]

love in a zero-gravity climate

Darcy Lewis Crack Challenge 2019 |  Day 8: Anti-Gravity | 

Ship: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers |  Prompt: Day 8 - Anti-Gravity |  Other Tags: Crack, Space, Zero-Gravity, Science Mishaps, Swearing, Flirting, Banter, Pre-Relationship |  Rated: T |  Word Count: 2356 | 

Summary:

Darcy’s Tuesday is nothing special. She’s just sliding through a portal into space and helping a shirtless Captain America pilot a SHIELD spaceship back to earth.

All in a day’s work, right?

Steve wasn’t usually in the lab on Tuesdays.

Darcy couldn’t believe that was her final thought before she was sucked cleanly through the hole that had opened up in front of them. She could have had any number of distressing thoughts. Like… “Gee, I hope there’s oxygen where we’re going” or “Gosh, I hope the lifeforms we encounter are friendly.”  But no. Her first and only thought as she and Captain America were being slurped into another place in space was the downright KevinSmithsian thought, ‘Steve wasn’t even supposed to be here today.’

Darcy’s day had started off just fine. Up and out of bed after only hitting the snooze three times. That had to be some kind of a personal record for her. She’d grabbed coffee for herself and Jane, arriving at the lab only a few minutes later than her scheduled time, as opposed to her usual half an hour late.

Like always, her boss was working diligently. Possibly through the night, but Darcy had delegated that particular worry to one of the lab’s many interns. Scientist wrangling was behind her. She was only here to make enough money to pay off her student loans. And to work alongside her bestie. After she’d done that? The sky was the limit.

Meaning she hadn’t really figured things out that far in advance.

But that was really, okay, wasn’t it?

Jane was testing some portal gun, Darcy wasn’t sure of the exact logistics, but there was definitely some theoretical math involved because Janey had filled three whiteboards with her calculations.

Much of the morning was spent calibrating some of the more touchy equipment so Jane could pull the trigger thingie on the portal gun and swear at it for not working.

Or at least, that’s what Dr. Foster was doing. Whether that was what Jane had in mind for her Tuesday was up for debate.

Darcy left for lunch, bringing something up for Jane on her way back. It was then that she noticed the Star Spangled Man with a Plan himself. He was standing over near Tony talking in a very low and solemn tone if the expression on his face was any indication.

He was wearing a white t-shirt and jogging pants. Sneakers.

So he was probably fresh from the gym. Or headed there afterward. Yeah, definitely that second one because he wasn’t sweaty or anything.

But did he sweat, though? Darcy nearly toppled over a rolling cart that Jane had pushed away, too deep in her thoughts to notice its existence until it stopped her from moving forward. She ran into it, hitting her hip, which smarted and made a hugely loud racket that she really hoped no one heard.

They did hear it. Of fucking course.

It interrupted Steve and Tony’s discussion of boring and brought Steve over to inquire as to whether or not she was okay. “Are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing with a worry that made her cheeks feel hot. Why was Steve Rogers worried about her clumsiness?

She wasn’t okay, but it wasn’t because of the cart. And she didn’t know how to tell him that, so she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, but no sound came out at first. Dumb nerves.

It was at that precise moment in which Jane pressed the button on the doohickey gun again, opening up a swirling, sparkling black hole in front of Darcy and Steve.

Darcy let out a tiny screech as the hole’s force pulled her towards it, the absent thought of ‘Steve wasn’t usually in the lab on Tuesdays,” floated through her head. She heard Jane’s frantic voice calling her name. Or the beginning of it, anyway. Just “Dar!”

And that was as far as Darcy got before the wormhole spit herself and Steve out and closed behind them.

She panicked the second she opened her eyes.

Floating. They were floating.

She sucked in a deep breath and was met with no resistance. No horrible feeling like her lungs were about to explode or she was going to drown.

“Leapin’ fucknuts,” she exclaimed, reaching out to brush her fingertips over the wall of the room they were in.

No. Not a room.  There were windows. A windshield. Some kind of crazy piloting apparatus.  And nothing but black sky and stars out the front windshield. It was small, the area. No longer than about twelve feet of ‘walking’ space from the windshield to the back of the craft.

“I was going to go with ‘holy shit’, but yours is better,” Steve said, chuckling a little as he floated past. Below her. He seemed oddly calm for someone thrust into zero gravity in outer freaking space.

“Where are we?” Darcy asked, looking around rapidly for something to hold onto.  She settled for what could have passed as a towel rack on the ceiling, clinging to it like a scared cat on a tree branch. “Does any of this look familiar to you?”

“This certainly feels familiar,” Steve muttered, probably thinking she wouldn’t hear him. But she did. She really fucking did and she wished she hadn’t.

He used the floor grate to pull himself forward and to push up. His eyes scanned the room as he floated up to the ceiling. “Actually, this does look familiar… I think this a SHIELD ship…”

Darcy hated that he used the word ‘ship’ and not ‘plane’ or ‘quinjet’.

“Does that mean you know how to pilot it?” she asked hopefully.

He made a scoffing sound. “Not a ship like this. I only know planes.  But I do know there’s a comm under the pilot’s seat. Emergency backup battery. We should be able to contact someone on the ground and let them know we’re here. And we can get further instructions that way.”

Steve pushed off the ceiling and Darcy heard a tiny tearing sound.

Alarmed, she looked up just in time to see Steve’s white t-shirt fluttering past so she was treated to an eyeful of Captain Pecs and his Glorious Abs.

Steve either didn’t notice or figured it was a lost cause in the situation they were in. Either way, he didn’t address it. Instead, he rummaged around under the pilot’s seat. He found the comm right where he said it’d be.

He sent out a call. “This is Captain Rogers… I’m not sure where I am, but I know I’m in outer space. There’s a civilian with me, get back soon. Over.”

A voice, clear as crystal responded. “Come again, Captain? Over.”

Steve planted his feet on the ceiling and repeated his message, only to be treated to a long silence.

“How are you there, when we just clocked you in NYC?”

He glanced back at Darcy for confirmation and she floated over, grabbing the comm. “I work for Dr. Jane Foster. She was working on an interdimensional wormhole generator and might have accidentally sent us here. Wherever ‘here’ is. Uh. Over.”

The man on the other side didn’t miss a beat. “Is she in NYC as well? Because I have on file a frantic call from that area thirty seconds ago. Lots of screaming, something about a wormhole? Over.”

“Affirmative, over,” Steve replied.

Darcy pressed her hand to her heart. Her Janey was already looking for her.

“Okay, we’ll get more info once you’re back on Earth. In the meantime, we’ll get the power reserves turned back on.  It’ll take a little while, but the only other way is to switch it on manually from the outside. You’d need a space suit. There are two on board, but neither of you is trained for that. “

Steve got some kind of look in his eyes, handing the comm to Darcy, who hurriedly signed off and floated after Steve, having to push off the windshield to do so.

She’d have no way of actually stopping Captain America in normal situations. But since there was no gravity, she could wrap her arms around his waist and yank him backward if she hooked her feet around the headrest on the pilot’s chair. Which she did.

And it really was a power trip, watching that muscley fella fly backward every time he made for the back of the ship, to where the space suits were.

“Let me go,” he said, attempting to spin around and just ending up spinning himself in place.

Darcy tried not to laugh, but it was hard.

“Stop it. I’ve been trapped on a doomed ship before,” he reiterated. Like she didn’t know.

“I know, dude. Everyone knows what you did. You’re in every US History book. Is this some kind of claustrophobia or…”

“No.  I signed up for this. You didn’t.”

Darcy tilted her head, throwing a look his way that could have frozen ice if they were back on earth.  “Dude. Do you think I didn’t sign up for this? My boss is a renowned astrophysicist. I handled the Dark Elf invasion. And I totally beat Thor in hand to hand combat.”

“You tased him while he was weakened,” Steve retorted. “And no. You didn’t sign up for perilous situations like this.”

“First of all, don’t take my victory away from me. I know you’re freaking out a little, but really. There’s no need to be rude. I’d never tell you that you didn’t beat Thor in hand-to-hand combat.”

Steve smirked. “I beat Thor in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Okay, not to be a stickler, but you didn’t. I did. Weakened form still counts.”

“Fine, you beat Thor and I didn’t. But--”

“Look, I’m an agent with SHIELD too. I’m learning self-defense from the Black Widow. I have a badge thingie just like you do. My clearance level isn’t as high, but whatever. The point is, I signed up for this, knowing damn well something like this would happen. And I’ll be damned if Captain 1940s-Booty-Shorties is going to manhandle me into a submissive role!”

He stopped struggling, but it didn’t matter much, it was still spinning them around until he reached out and placed his palm against the wall. “1940s Nooty Shorties?”

“I saw the pics, Cap. I know those were booty shorts and tights.”

He smirked a little and stopped trying to ditch her.

“Fine. So we’ll just sit here until they turn the remote power on?”

“We can thank our lucky stars that there’s oxygen in here,” Darcy mused as they slowly spun around the cockpit. Like the slowest and least controllable 3D tour ever.

“Not to burst your bubble, but I think it might be limited to what’s already here. The fact that we came from a place with oxygen also probably helped matters. Some got sucked in with us through the wormhole.”

“And you’ve been sucking it down in your attempt to Herosplain this situation to me?” she gasped, clapping one hand over her mouth.

“You mean save you? Because my argument was that I was the best candidate to go on a spacewalk and turn on the backup power.”

“No. I mean herosplain me. Like I didn’t fight the Dark Elves and I don’t know you have some kind of superhero complex about self-worth and whatever.”

“Touche…” he replied. “I won’t do that again, sorry. I was just…”

Darcy filled in for him. “You were just being Captain America. But I think this situation calls for Steve.”

“Steve, I can do. I think.” He reached out for one of the handles. “So… you wanna turn flips or something to pass the time?”

“I don’t really believe that you aren’t going to make a break for that space suit, but actually, yes? I’ve always wanted to have a zero-gravity flip contest.”

She had to yank him back from the space suits three times, and from the look on his face, he could probably keep this up all day. But so could she.

Darcy resolved the situation by wrapping both arms around his bare waist and hanging on for dear life.

“Are you going to hug me all day until the gravity comes back?” Steve asked, a smile apparent in his voice.

Darcy shrugged. “Maybe? You can’t go outside with a whole-ass me attached to you.”

“Fine, but I’m hugging you too.” He proceeded to twist in her arms and wrap his beefy biceps of justice around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head. She almost let go of him, but she had a sneaking suspicion that was what he wanted.

She sniffed. “Why are you hugging me? I’m not going anywhere.” She glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his for a long moment.

“Okay. Me either,” he conceded.

She snorted. “Ha, LIke I actually believe you”

“You don’t believe Captain America?” Steve joked. “I stand for truth, justice, and freedom. If you can’t trust me, you can’t trust anybody.”

“Yup, that’s right,” she replied, her arms tightening around his body, pressing her cheek snugly to his shoulder. “I’m not falling for that, Rogers.”

“Fine by me. I’m enjoying this.”

So was she, but she kind of wasn’t going to tell him that.

Their little cuddle-fest was interrupted just a few seconds later.

“Captain Rogers? This is SHIELD Mission Control. We’re turning on the gravity boosters and are ready to talk you through your return flight to earth. Are you ready? Over.”

Darcy felt Steve laugh a little. “I feel like I should ask for ten more minutes…”

“How about I give you double that when we land back on terrain I’m familiar with?” Darcy asked.

“What do I do with my twenty minutes?” he asked.

“That’s entirely up to you,” she replied, cheekily

He smiled that genuine smile of his that had ceased being about honor and patriotism and had started being something that made Darcy a little weak in the knees. Gravity or no.

“We’re ready, SMC. Tell us what to do first, over.”

Darcy couldn’t help but smile a little. She had plans. With a guy. To land a spaceship and spend twenty minutes doing… well, the specifics didn’t matter. She was making plans. Apparently, the sky wasn’t the limit anymore.

Not bad for a regular Tuesday, honestly.

#Shieldshock #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #Darcy/Steve #dlaf2019 #Crack Challenge