#[ gosh i hate when work takes away my creative juice

[lunaetis]

[ sorry for the absence. i was planning to write but work hit me in the face with urgent deadline so now my brain is too fried to word lkjhghjkl I WILL WRITE TMR THO I HAVE A FEW THINGS I WANNA GET TO. SORRY FOR THE WAIT GUYS. ]

[doctorrookie]

A Spicy Surprise

A/N: This is my first ever fic (for Ethan) and boy, am I nervous. It doesn't really have a category, so let's just call it an introductory, smutty, fluffy piece. I was inspired by a Tiktok video and I really hope you like this one. I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this, just letting all my creative juices flow. Go easy on me.

My MC is a female, named Alexandria Lee. More on her soon.

Word count: 1,921

—

“Ooh, Aly look!” Sienna grabs my wrist and pulls me over to the Bath and Glory stand. A big 50% off sign graces the top shelf.

Sienna and my shift just ended, but neither of us felt too tired, so we decided that we would go out for dinner at the mall nearby. After a sumptuous meal of the heartiest pasta on the face of the earth, we decided to take a stroll around the mall to burn some of it off. Sephora was having a Christmas sale, and we both thought we could go with some new war paint for work. Upon entering, we’re greeted by name brand after name brand etched on stands that are completely wiped out.

We glance at the half-empty Bath and Glory stand, shower gels, bath bombs, skin rejuvenator, whatever that is. Sienna picked up a thin tube of what looks like clear lip gloss.

“Minty Lip Maximiser, perfect for tingly make-out sessions…” Sienna teased, and I can feel my face flush red.

Ethan and I were getting a little… steamy in the supply closet, and Sienna happened to barge in right in the middle of our lip-lock, and let’s just say it’s a miracle his tongue is still in one piece. It’s a hilarious story, but it’s one I’ll share another day.

“Sie, stop it. You’re embarrassing yourself,” I giggle as she starts making kissy faces and sloppy lip-smacking sounds.

“You should totally get this, trust me.”

She zips her lips and gives me a playful wink, a mischievous glint in her other, open eye. There’s something more to this. Something… sinful, perhaps? I just have to know more.

“Is there something more to the equation?”

Sienna pulls me in close, her lips merely an inch away from my ear. Her soft, lilting voice juxtaposes against the content of her whispers. I would have never pegged as someone who would do something like that, but I have been known to be wrong about these things. The corners of my mouth twist into a wicked grin as I formulate a plan in my mind to surprise Ethan, courtesy of Sienna’s mildly disturbing tale.

—

I head to Ethan’s apartment. I spend one or two nights here a week, even though he’s constantly begging for more, but I pay good money for the five-roomer every month, so I have to make sure I get my worth. I slipped the key into the keyhole, just tingling with anticipation to find out his response to my little prank. I scan my eyes around his apartment and find him sitting on the couch, reading (yes, you guessed it) a medical journal. He looks up and beams at me, a smile I absolutely adore.

“Hi, rookie.” He pats the seat next to him, inviting me to join him. I set my bag down on the counter and make my way to his uber comfortable couch. He pulls me in by the waist for a tight hug and I can smell the faint combination of cologne, detergent, and aftershave all over him. The scent is truly intoxicating, and I find myself breathing in deep, revelling in his warmth. He places a soft, tender kiss on my forehead, his light stubble tickling me as I lean into him.

“Hey, Dr Ramsey, how was your day off?”

I turn myself slightly and lean my legs on the rest of the available couch space. I’ve been on them for 10 days straight, being on call and having multiple shifts lined up. I could use about a week’s worth of bed rest. That is, only if he’s right next to me.

“It was fine. Not as good as it could have been…” he closes the journal and places it on the coffee table, giving me his undivided attention.

“Aww, why is that?” I feign ignorance as I run a hand through his soft, dark locks, tousling it in the process.

“I know you just want me to say it’s because you’ve been gone all day.”

“Alright, then say it.”

He sighs lightly, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Fine. It’s because you, Dr Alexandria Lee, have been away from me for more than 12 hours, and I had to wake up all alone this morning, holding and kissing, mind you, what I thought was my beautiful girlfriend, but turned out to be a pillow that smelled exactly like your hair.”

Ethan Ramsey, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. The sky is falling.

“Well, let’s see what I can do to make up for it then.”

I shift slightly so that my legs were in his lap and lean in close to plant a kiss on his lips, but with one strong move, he pinned my wrists down onto the seat cushions and hovered over me, his breath warm against my neck. He starts attacking my neck with kisses, and they burn into my skin with great passion and desire. He catches me by surprise when he gently nibbles and sucks on the sensitive spot right below my earlobe. My shallow breaths hitch and a soft moan escape me before I could suppress it. All thoughts disperse from my head, like a cloud of smoke. I just need him to do this to me all night long. He pulls away all of a sudden.

“E, what…”

“Let’s save this for later.  After all, we’ve got all night. And I have plans for every single minute of it.”

As much as I hate being teased, delicious tingles run up and down my body. We’ve both got a day off tomorrow and I can’t wait to see what shenanigans we’d be up to. Something wholesome, or something a little… dirtier.

“You’re right. I’ll go take a shower.”

I grab my purse, careful to not let him see the sheer, flimsy garment I have hidden in it. I make my way to the en-suite bathroom as I feel his eyes on me.

“Dr Ramsey, don’t you know it’s impolite to stare?” I say without turning back.

“Well, I can’t help it because…” He trails off.

“Because what?” I turn back, and our eyes lock.

“I like you, rookie.”

And with that, he opens up the journal and begins reading again. I sigh contentedly.

“I like you too, doctor.”

I close the bedroom door and scavenge for my towel, which is neatly folded next to his in the bathroom. I find a cute little basket of bottles adorned with jasmines and candy canes. A note sits on top of it.

Some olfactory stimulation to match how gorgeous you are, both inside and out

- E

This man truly knows his way around my heart. I’ve only mentioned I love jasmine-scented things once in passing. I can’t believe he remembered. And there’s this note. I can’t believe he went to visit my favorite retailer to get this, especially since there aren’t many outlets in Boston.

The sky is truly falling, and so am I.

I untie the ribbon and take a deep sniff of the lovely scent. Mmm… jas-mint. I love it.

—

I step out of the shower, reaching for my fluffy lilac towel. It even smells like him. I wrap it around my shoulders, the thick material providing some warmth on this cold winter day. I hunt around for the blow-dryer and let the heat take away those wet hair shudders. I rummage through my bag and find the little black negligee that I ordered last week. It got here yesterday, just in time for our weekly rendezvous. I slip it on and toss my hair back before checking how everything looks in the mirror.

Perfect.

As if on cue, the little Sephora bag tumbles out of my purse. I almost feel guilty about my little plan, but curiosity has always got the best of me. I unwrap the tube and apply some of the plumper on my lips. It’s got a menthol-cool burn, but nothing I can’t handle. I just hope Ethan has the same tolerance level as I do.

I drop my purse on the bedroom floor and twist the doorknob open, poking my head out to the living room. Ethan’s in the same position, still engrossed in the journal. He doesn’t notice my stroll from the bedroom to the couch, nor did he sense my hovering presence.

I clear my throat. “Ahem, Dr Ramsey.”

He looked up at me, mouth gaping as he took it all in.

“Aly…”

He pulled me down onto his lap, his dilated pupils becoming a tell-tale sign about his positive reaction to my little get-up. Well, one of the signs anyway.

“Mmm?” I try to stimulate a response from him.

“You look amazing.”

“Kiss me,” I whisper in his ear while slipping his glasses off, trying to stifle all signs of my mean-spirited prank. As I say that, a part of me is kicking myself for ruining this moment, and another part of me is bursting with laughter, just awaiting his response. Either way, it’s too late to back out as he’s leaning in steadily, eyes fluttering shut. I reciprocate and we lock lips tenderly. A faint taste of scotch, mixed with the mint from my gloss. Mmm.

Before any one of us could deepen the kiss, he pulls away all of a sudden, eyes wide as saucers.

“Aly, what is that?” He says urgently, breathing in and out from his mouth. “Oh gosh, it burns!”

He yelps and starts fanning his lips. The sight of it makes me burst out in laughter. The usually stoic Dr Ethan J. Ramsey is flapping his hands about and making an involuntary duck face.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME, LEE?” He groans loudly.

I barely managed to catch my breath, and he starts yelping in pain, triggering a second wave of belly laughs. Oh gosh, no one will believe me when I tell this story.

“Lip plumper…” I whimper through my laughs.

“They feel so numb. Are they bigger?” He points to his swollen, red lips. Well, it did say extreme plumping on the packaging.

I nod cautiously because he seems angrier right now than I’ve ever seen him. His eyebrows furrow as he squeezes his eyes tight. I love this.

I walk over to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and he downs it quick. After about a minute, he calms down and regains his composure. I give him a little sideways smirk as I pout my lips slightly and lean in to kiss him again.

“Woah, woah, Lee,” he holds a hand up to cup my mouth. “There’s no way you’re getting near these lips for a week!”

“Aww come on. After so many naughty texts today and that hickie you left on me just now?” I push my hair to the side to reveal the bruise forming beneath my earlobe.

“Fuck…” He groans. I’ve got him hooked.

“How can I be sure that you don’t stab me in my sleep tonight?” He cautiously backs away from me.

“Oh come on, I think you’d be able to see if I have a knife hidden on me right now, right?” I stand up and do a slow twirl for him, making sure to slow down and display the back of my lace thong to him.

He stands up and grabs my wrist, pulling me into the bedroom.

“Fine, we’ll have to work out a punishment for your escapade, but you’re not getting that pretty little mouth anywhere near…”

“We’ll see…”

[uas-fics]

Title: Lego Butterflies

Summary: Tweek is so excited to join a lego house contest with his friends Jimmy and Timmy. Nothing could ruin his day! Except maybe Nathan and his schemes of revenge against Jimmy!

Rating: G

Ships: Mentioned Creek. 

Other: For @tweekweek, day 2 Talent. I have no idea if this Red Cross idea would even work but you know what, it's just a setting and conflict set up sooo..... *shrug* 

Also, disclaimer, I didn't have time to do as much research as ASL as I should have, so the wording of Timmy's dialog isn't perfect, and I apologize. :( 

Read on Ao3

---

Tweek bounced in his seat, a goofy smile on his face. The weekend didn’t come fast enough. Since Wednesday, Tweek hopped into bed early in an attempt to force time to move its butt along so Saturday’s event could finally happen. 

Jimmy sat to his left and Timmy to his right. They shared his excitement. 

Jimmy was the one who brought Tweek the flyer, shoving it under his nose during recess. 

"The South Park Red Cross's first annual building contest: An event for children thirteen and under to show off their building skills and have fun!" The flyer proclaimed in Comic Sans font. "Come by and bring your kids for a lego brick contest with plenty of wonderful prizes for the best entries. Lunch and dinner will be provided. starts at 10 am ends at 6 pm. 5 dollar entry fee with be required in advance. For more information call the South Park Red Cross office or email us at SPRedCross@zmail. net." 

Jimmy explained that it was a creative competition where a group of up to three kids are given a lego kit and had the day to make the building, but with their own creative twist on it. The first prize winners received gift cards to the local Dairy Queen. 

Tweek didn't care about the prize. He was just excited to build with his friends and have fun. He didn't even expect to win, but Jimmy proclaimed he knew they would since Tweek was so amazing at building with legos.

"You have one of your builds on display at the library!" Jimmy reminded. "The one that looks like a b-b-bo-boat? You're a natural. We'll win for sure."

His parents donated his boat to the library without his permission last summer. Though Tweek had planned to recycle the bricks into another project, he couldn’t help but feel pride every time he saw his name on that piece of card stock in the shiny display case.

Tweek looked around the Red Cross building at the other tables. He knew some of the other kids here, but most were younger than him and he couldn't put a name to a face. He knew two of the kindergarteners in the corner. Kyle Broflovski's little brother and the youngest member of the goth kids looked less than thrilled to be there as their parents chatted a few feet away. 

Kenny and his little sister and older brother on the other side of the room, Karen speaking animatedly and Kenny nodding along while their brother had a chair pulled to the wall and dozed. 

Some girls from his class chatted near the door. A few kids from the special education class that Tweek didn't know waved to Jimmy as they walked in.

"Oh my Gosh!" Jimmy beamed. "There sure is a really big crowd out tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, this might be a fun competition," Tweek agreed. 

"Of course, it will be." Jimmy leaned over and picked up his bag from beside him. He unzipped it before taking out some peanut butter crackers and juice boxes. "My mom packed me these, but we're being fed lunch, so I thought we could have them as a pre-build s-s-snack."

Timmy nodded, reaching in front of Tweek for a pack of crackers. His fingers wrapped around a juice box, only for his nose to wrinkle up in disgust when he read the flavor. He tossed the juice box back before snatching up a different one.

Jimmy cocked his head to the side to read the flavor. He stuck his tongue out.

"I a-agree with you there, Tim Tim." Jimmy faked a gag. "Kiwi-Orange is the w-worst flavor. I keep asking mom not to buy this kind, but she a-al-always forgets."

Tweek's mom buys the same brand, and he knew its store-brand juice and the cheapest available at the local market, but he didn’t point that out. Instead, he took the Kiwi-Orange for himself, leaving Jimmy with Peach. 

Of the Tropical Explosion flavors, Kiwi-Orange tasted best to him. It was tangy with just the right amount of kiwi. He didn't understand how anyone couldn't love it.

"Well, well, well," A snide voice intoned, "look what the cat dragged in."

Nathan marched up to their table with Mimsy right behind him like a giant shadow. Nathan set his palms on the tabletop and leaned forward a little too far into their space.

"Oh! Hello there, Nathan!" Jimmy chirped, completely unfazed by how close Nathan's tinted aviator glasses were to his face. "You too, M-Mimsy. Good morning!"

"Heya, fellas," Mimsy replied with a wave.

"So, what brings you two here? Jimmy? Timmy? Are you here for the contest?" Nathan nodded to the front of the room where the adults from the Red Cross were pulling out craft supplies from some boxes. 

"We s-s-sure are." Jimmy wrapped his arm around Tweek. "Tim Tim, me, and Tweek here are all one group. Isn't that gr-great? Too bad we can't have a group of five, though. You and Mimsy would make great additions to our t-t-team."

Nathan scrunched up his nose like he just stepped on a wet turd with bare feet.

"Oh," he gave Tweek a hard look over the top of his glasses, "really?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Tweek watched Timmy grip his crackers so hard, they crumbled in the wrapper. He glared at Nathan as if daring him to say something.

If Nathan saw, he didn't respond. Instead, he shrugged and stepped away.

"Good luck, there, Jimmy, Timmy...Tweek."

Tweek shuddered at how Nathan said his name. It reminded him a little too much of a cartoon super-villain with a long mustache about to capture the hero with a complicated contraption.

Timmy must not have like how his name was said either since he flipped Nathan off behind his back. Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed unphased completely.

"Good luck to you, too! I know we'll all do f-f-f-fantastic!" Jimmy encouraged. Nathan scowled as he turned around and went to another table.

Mimsy almost followed him, when he paused, taking a look at the box of juice in Tweek's hand.

"Is that Kiwi-Orange? Oh, boy, it's my favorite flavor. Do they have some here?" Mimsy grinned.

"Really?" Timmy signed, sticking out his tongue.

Tweek smiled back at him. "It's my favorite, too. It's yummy."

Jimmy looked into his bag. "Ah, darn, sorry, Mimsy. Mom only packed enough for my team. Maybe I can bring you some at school on Monday."

Mimsy's face fell. For someone with a large and imposing a frame as Mimsy, when he got disappointed, he looked no more threatening than an upset puppy.

Tweek offered his unopened box. "Here, you can have mine. I brought my own drink." With his free hand, he lifted his ever-present thermos from between his feet, still warm with the mid-morning’s coffee. 

Mimsy's eyes grew wide. His mouth went slack as he took the juice. "Really? You'd give me the best flavor? Just like that? No fight or nothin'?" Mimsy stared down at the juice box as if Tweek just handed him the Hope Diamond to keep.

"Uh-huh. I'm ok with it, if you don't mind, Jimmy." He turned a questioning look to him.

Jimmy shook his head. "No, it's fine. Our teachers always tell us sharing makes for the b-best friendships."

"Good, there you go, Mimsy. Good luck. I hope you have lots of fun today." Tweek smiled again.

 He didn't know Mimsy well, other than he hung around with Nathan all the time, but he didn't have anything against him. Mimsy seemed like a nice kid. He didn’t give bad vibes, unlike Nathan.

Mimsy looked at the box, then at Tweek, and blushed. "Golly, that's swell of you. Thanks a lot, Tweek." He giggled as if Tweek just told him a silly riddle before making a beeline for Nathan.

After the three finished their juice--or coffee in Tweek's case--and crackers, Jimmy gathered up the trash and took it to the trash can before heading to use the restroom.

Once Jimmy was out of earshot, Tweek turned to Timmy with a frown.

"Are you alright? You seem...uh..." he gestured to the crumbs covering Timmy's shirt, "upset? Is this about Nathan?"

Timmy brushed the crumbs off with his face set in a scowl. He looked around before leaning in close. 

"Do not trust Nathan," he whispered, keeping his hand movement small and close to his body.

"Why?" Tweek covered his mouth with the side of his hand. Nathan and Mimsy sat across the room, so they couldn't hear him but better safe than sorry.

"He is a dickhead." Timmy cringed. "Jimmy is too stupid to understand Nathan hates him."

"He hates him? Jimmy sure seems to think they’re friends." Tweek frowned. 

"He is clueless!" Timmy rolled his eyes. "Nathan hates him. He tries to trick him all the time or get him in trouble."

At Tweek's raised eyebrow, Timmy went on to explain some of his experiences with Nathan that ranged from switching out Jimmy's pencils with colored ones for tests and tripping in him in the lunch line to dumping soda in his backpack and spreading rumors.

When Timmy started to explain something that happened during summer camp, he started moving his hands so fast in his anger that Tweek couldn't understand him. 

"Alright, alright, I get it! Nathan is a huge dick." Tweek grabbed Timmy's wrists when he was in the middle of signing what Tweek thought was 'Space-Racist.'

Timmy pulled his hands to his lap. "Be careful today," he warned, leaning over to shoot Nathan a glare. 

Tweek peeked over his shoulder. Nathan had his head turned, so he didn't see Timmy's glower. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Jimmy, who was speaking with some girls at a nearby table. His hands balled into shaking fists.

Tweek snapped his head forward. His stomach twisted into knots. Timmy was right. They had to be super careful today.

---

Jimmy, that asshole, flirting with those girls right in front of him! He was just doing it to rub it in his face that, for some reason completely unknown to Nathan, the girls seemed to like him. 

He didn't understand what anyone saw in Jimmy. Nathan was much more handsome and charismatic than Jimmy could ever be!

But the girls tittered and fawned over him like he was the best thing since sliced bread! 

Nathan gripped his hands into fists. 

"Mimsy, we're going to win those gift cards," He growled. "Even if I have to smash their entry myself."

Mimsy looked up from the empty juice box in his hands. He had been staring at it like a dolt since he finished sucking it dry. What was the big deal? It was just a juice box. It wasn't even a good flavor. Only some weirdo like Mimsy would like Kiwi-Orange.

"Ah, I dunno, Boss," Mimsy fingered the box, "maybe we should just try our best to win on our own. We don't gotta cheat."

"Don't you see, Mimsy? Jimmy is cheating! Us cheating would even the odds." Nathan waved his hand towards them. "He brought that Tweek kid with them to help."

"What's wrong with Tweek?" Mimsy's voice pitched up when he said Tweek's name. A small blush grew across his cheeks, eyes drifting down to the juice box.

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's an expert with legos, Mimsy! He has something he made shown off at the library! How is that fair to the rest of us?"

Mimsy craned his head around the room a moment. "Well, why don't we ask Colette." He pointed towards her. "She has a lego project displayed at the library too, and it looks like she's all by herself. We can ask her to join us!"

Nathan winced. "Hell no. She's ugly. I don't want an ugly girl on my team." He was trying to win the gift cards so he could get pretty girls. Girls love free chocolate-dipped cones. He would have a whole bunch of girls clambering for his attention when he won those gift cards. Then Jimmy would cry like a baby now that the girls saw who the real man around was.

Mimsy cocked his head to the side. "Well, Boss, maybe you should put your misogyny and bias against women aside this one time and work towards your goal so we can win honestly and you can take real pride in your win."

Nathan stared dumbfounded at Mimsy. Where did Mimsy get these ideas? Probably some dumb cartoon or something.

"Mimsy, shut up."

Mimsy turned his attention back to his juice box with a shrug. "Ok, boss."

---

The rules for the competition where simple: build the lego house from a kit and decorate it with the supplies from the craft table.

The house kit was a simple model, only twenty bricks high with four window pieces and a door piece and a premade slanted roof.

Even if Tweek hadn’t built it before, it was an easy task. He took up the job of putting it together while Jimmy and Timmy gathered supplies and refined the plan.

They had decided to turn their project into a gingerbread house with lollipop trees and candy stuck to the roof. They would use paint to add icing accents and cotton balls as cotton candy lining the outside like bushes.

As Timmy wrapped cellophane plastic around foam balls to make hard candy and Jimmy used a marker to color the cotton, Tweek stood to stretch.

"I'm going to the restroom. Be right back." 

Timmy grabbed his sleeve, holding up a sheet of cellophane. 

"Get blue," He told him before lowering his head back to his work. 

Once Tweek finished his business, he stood over the craft table shifting through the mess of stickers and papers for a blue sheet of cellophane. Most of the stickers had a faint yellow tinge to them and several of the sets of markers were missing colors. If Tweek had to guess, he would say a lot of the supplies were donated from a granny’s leftover scrapbooking supplies. 

Tweek glanced over his shoulder at a nearby team’s house kit box. Given how yellowed it was, maybe more than just the stickers came from someone’s backroom.

He set some brown felt aside before a flash of shiny, translucent blue caught his eye. 

With a noise of satisfaction, he reached for it, only for another hand to grab it at the same time.

Tweek looked up and met eyes with Nathan himself.

"I saw it first," Nathan snapped, snatching the cellophane.

"We need it for ours," Tweek countered. 

All of Timmy's stories played through his head. He needed to be very careful with what he said. Jimmy might be optimistically oblivious enough to overlook Nathan's malice acts, but Tweek sure as heck wasn't.

Nathan attempted to reply, but Mimsy stepped behind him and cut him off.

"Heya, Tweek!" He swung his hands side to side. "Gosh, isn't this fun? We's nearly finished half our house. It's going to be a summer house with a pool and palm trees and--"

Nathan shoved a sheet of craft felt into his mouth.

"Shut up, Mimsy! Don't tell our enemies the plan." He glared over the top of his glasses at Tweek. "He might steal our ideas."

"We don't need your ideas." Tweek reached across the table for the corner of the felt in Mimsy's mouth. He pulled it out then pushed it into Nathan's hands, making sure that the part covered in spit touched his skin.

Nathan dropped everything in his arms back on the table with a yelp. As he wiped his hand on his pants, Tweek snatched the blue cellophane. Before Nathan could make a bigger scene, Tweek took a pair of craft scissors and made a wavy line down the middle of the sheet.

"Here. Problem solved," Tweek set half on the slobbery felt. 

A snarl ripped from Nathan’s throat as his upper lip rose. Tweek froze like a rabbit staring down a pet dog. 

Oh, shoot! He had let himself get overconfident! Nathan was going to kill him, right there in the Red Cross building, in front of everyone! 

Mimsy put his big hands on Nathan's shoulders and turned him.

"That'll be enough blue, dontcha think, boss? I think so. We just needed a little. Ain't it real diplomatic to share like that?" Mimsy jabbered on as he forced Nathan towards their table.

Tweek's body relaxed. Mimsy glanced over his shoulder at him.

"Thank you," he mouthed at him. Mimsy turned forward instantly, the tips of his ears burning pink.

---

Nathan crumbled the blue cellophane and threw it on the table. He was upset, but Mimsy didn't know why. They got more than enough for their pool.

Maybe if his head wasn't so light and spinny, he could figure it out, but right now he felt as though his feet weren't even touching the ground. 

Tweek was so nice. He gave him his juice box. He shared the cellophane. He even said thank you for taking Nathan away to cool off. 

Tweek was wonderful.

"--msy?" 

Mimsy blinked. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, what were ya sayin', Boss?"

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses. 

"I said we have to get those punk-ass jerks Jimmy, Timmy, and Tweek. We can't let them win!" Nathan picked up a pair of scissors and cut the crinkled cellophane to shape.

Mimsy twiddled his thumbs, taking a seat. "Do we have to? I don't think Tweek deserves us destroying his hard work."

Nathan paused and looked up. He fixed Mimsy with a look before he scowled.

"Mimsy, what do you care about that blond twitchy kid?" Nathan asked in a slow, careful tone.

Mimsy picked up a button he had painted to look like a life-ring and twisted it between his fingers. "Oh, well, ah...Tweek just..." He felt a silly smile grow on his face and couldn't make himself look up at his best friend as he continued, "He gives me butterflies, ya know, boss? In my tummy, and I just don't wanna cause him no trouble."

He didn't really want to cause Jimmy or Timmy trouble either, but Nathan had his heart set on being better than them, so Mimsy tagged along and helped him out however he could.

"Oh, for the love of..." Nathan dragged his hands down his face. "You know Tweek has a boyfriend, don't you? Shit those butterflies out already. You don't have a chance."

"I don't wanna chance." Mimsy picked up a lego brick and attached it to another brick. "Just knowing Tweek’s happy makes me happy. I wanna be his friend." 

Be his friend, sit together at lunch, even, hold his hand at recess a little, that's all Mimsy wanted. He just really, really wanted that wonderful person to like him and he didn't think ruining his project would make that dream come true.

"Mimsy, you have the brain of a chicken." Nathan shook his head.

"Ah, geez, thanks, boss." Mimsy smiled at him. Chickens are really smart. Their class watched a show on them once. Chickens can count and do basic math! Nathan was such a swell guy for using inside information to compliment him.

Nathan opened his mouth then shut it with a groan. "Just finish building the house and stop pining over Tweek. I'll come up with a plan in the meantime."

Though his stomach twisted with worry, Mimsy nodded. Nathan wouldn't steer him wrong, would he?

---

Lunch was sandwiches, a snack pack of chips, an apple or orange, and a drink. The adults ushered everyone out to another room to eat, so Tweek's group stood with Kenny and his siblings as they ate.

In the ten minutes since Karen started talking to Tweek, he was pretty sure he counted her take a breathless than fifteen times.

"Since it's a kitten's house," Karen explained, "it'll have a pen outside for mice she can eat anytime she wants and--"

"Karen," Kenny cut in, "looks like they're letting people have seconds. Go get some. Get me another too."

Karen looked at her half-eaten sandwich then back up. Kenny shooed her with his fingers and a nod. 

"Mom let us come for the free food, sis," Kenny reminded her, taking a big bite of his sandwich. "We'll put the extras in Kevin's bag."

"But, I was telling Tweek about our project." Karen sighed, but pushed her chair out anyway and headed back towards the serving table.

Jimmy laughed, slapping Tweek's shoulder. "Wow, I thought she would t-talk your ear off."

Tweek blew a breath out. "Thanks, dude.” He told Kenny. “She's really excited, huh?"

He raised a shoulder in a half shrug. "It gets her out of the house to play with glitter glue and stickers. Of course, she's excited. I don't think we'll win, but she's having fun, so it's ok by me if we lose."

From across the table, Kevin snorted. "We'd better win. Girls love being treated to a dipped cone," he muttered, more to himself than the conversation between the fourth graders. 

Kenny rolled his eyes as Karen came trotting back up. Chips and fruit ladened down her arms. Several sets of eyes from the nearby tables turned towards theirs when she dropped everything down with the thump of hard apples and oranges and the crinkles of plastic chip bags.

Karen beamed proudly at her plunder. "That nice old lady gave it to me when I told her my last name." She waved towards an elderly woman sitting behind the table. See Karen acknowledge her, the woman waved back before returning to her conversation.

Kenny's cheeks blushed red. He averted his eyes and pulled his hood strings a little. Even Kevin slumped down a little farther in his chair.

As is his nature, Jimmy quickly changed the subject before the heavy silence grew too awkward. 

"So, w-what else is everyone doing for their e-en-entries? Do you know? Colette is sitting next to us and is making a fairy castle. It's r-r-r-really neat!" Jimmy waved his hands out, drawing the attention to himself and shielding the McCormicks while Kevin unzipped his backpack.

"Yeah, um, oh!" Tweek moved his arms out as well, though not as wide. "Mimsy told me he and Nathan were making a summer house. Isn't that cool? Errr--It has a pool even."

"A pool?!" Karen gasped. She grabbed Kenny's arm and shook him. "Can ours have a pool? I know cats hate water, but I don't think this kitten would. It can be a special cat pool!"

"Huh? Yeah, sure, we can put fish stickers inside," Kenny replied without looking up from his and Kevin's work.

"I want the pool to have pink water," Karen continued, wrapping her arm around his. "It's fancy rose water. We have some extra paper flowers we can put around it, and we can even make an innertube floatie!"

"I bet you can make the best p-pool ever," Jimmy told her, finally lowering his arms to the table. "I think we have some extra pink plastic wrap you can use. If you make a paper c-c-cir-circle you can cover it for your pool."

Karen released Kenny's arm and darted around the table to squeeze in between Tweek and Jimmy, bombarding Jimmy with questions for more ideas. Feeling claustrophobic, Tweek slipped out of his seat. The instant he did, Karen plopped down. 

Kenny set a hand on Tweek's arm. "Thanks. I owe you one,” he whispered, his cheeks still tinged with the red of embarrassment. 

Before Tweek could reply, another hand grabbed his arm and pulled. He spun around to see Timmy staring at him with a determined expression. He tugged Tweek away to talk privately in the corner.

"I saw Nathan and Mimsy." He nodded towards the door to the other room. "They snuck back in."

"What?" Tweek squawked. He craned his head around to make sure no one heard him. "What?" He repeated, much quieter. "When? Should we tell an adult?"

Timmy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe? Or..." He flashed a wicked smile, "we catch them."

"You want to sneak in there? How? You're not exactly..." He gestured to Timmy's wheelchair. 

Timmy frowned. "I am sneaky." 

"You are, but, eeer," Tweek chewed his lower lip. "There are too many people. We have to open the door completely to get you inside and..."

"You go!" Timmy rolled closer, pointing at Tweek’s chest. "You go in after Nathan."

"Why me? We should tell an adult." Tweek took a step away, but Timmy rolled his chair in front of him, blocking his path. 

"You go. In ten minutes, I will tell someone." He promised, crossing his heart with his finger.

Timmy had that determined look on his face. It was the same face he had when he argued with Cartman about changing his superhero from Iron Maiden to Doctor Timothy. Unless Tweek wanted to make a powerful enemy of Timmy, he had no choice.

"Alright, fine..." Tweek heaved a sigh. "We still need a distraction though."

Timmy smirked, wheeling himself back. "That is my job."

Before Tweek could stop him, he spun his chair around and surged it forward. In the middle of the room, he slammed the brakes to a stop and fell out onto the ground. He threw his arm up dramatically with an anguished cry that reminded Tweek a little too much of a soap opera character.

It took seconds for all the adults to gather upon Timmy.

 Tweek seized his moment and dashed towards the door. He slipped in and turned his eyes to a horrendous scene.

Drops of red, yellow, and blue paint rolled down half-finished walls and stained cuts of cardboard paper. Stickers had been ripped from the lego bricks on some and whole parts of the buildings taken away on others. Swear words were written along roofs in white glue. Glitter covered every surface.

And the end of the line of crafting carnage stood none other than Nathan himself, gluing marker caps to lego bricks with glitter glue.

"Hand me the buttons," Nathan held out his hand behind him without looking up. "We're going to put a big penis on this house. We'll use those stupid colored bushes as hair on the--"

"STOP!" Tweek shouted, rushing forward. He knew it was too late to save his or any of the other projects, but he had to try to save what was left!

With a rush of adrenaline, he dove at Nathan. Marker caps and buttons clattered across laminate as Nathan gasped and struggled under Tweek. 

Nathan smacked Tweek across the face with the back of his hand, but Tweek was able to pin one of Nathan's hands down by the wrist.

With a sneer, Nathan aimed the bottle of glue in his free hand at Tweek's face and squeezed. A line of liquid glue hit him right above the right eye.

Tweek recoiled back, desperately trying to wipe the glue away with his sleeve. Nathan shoved him off. He rolled back, knocking into another table. 

The folding table's leg gave way, dumping all the projects on it. Legos, stickers, paper, paintbrushes and shallow dishes of water all dropped to the floor. One of the houses hit Tweek on the top of the head. Stars swam across his vision.

"NO!" Nathan screamed. "My project!" 

Tweek looked to his side and saw the remains of a lego house with a styrofoam sun glued to the top. The house crushed a paper water bowl with blue cellophane inside and several palm trees made of construction paper.

"Why you!" Nathan snarled. "Mimsy, grab him! I'm going to put a bottle of glitter glue down his throat!"

Tweek tried to scramble to his feet, only to slip on the loose pieces. Mimsy loomed over him.

 There was no way out now. He was blocked by Nathan to his left, the other table to his front, the fallen table to his back and Mimsy to his right.

Tweek didn't think he would die today, but here he was about to meet the reaper.

 All in all, he had a good day up until all this started with Nathan. He and his friends had lots of fun building the lego house and adding the decorations. 

Too bad he couldn't say goodbye to everyone. Where were his parents supposed to find a new busboy on such short notice? Craig would be annoyed, too. They had a date planned for next week. 

Accepting his demise, Tweek clenched his eyes shut and waited...and waited...and waited, but nothing came. 

He opened his eyes to see Mimsy staring at him, face red and conflicted.

"Mimsy! Do as I say!" Nathan ordered.

"But, Boss! The butterflies," He whimpered as he grabbed at his shirt. "Can't we just go? Please?"

Nathan let out a cry of frustration. He set one foot on either side of Tweek before grabbing his chin. He held the glue up threateningly.

"If you're going to be useless, I'll do it myself," Nathan muttered.  

He squeezed Tweek's cheeks into a fish pucker, forcing them apart. Tweek gritted his teeth. 

A pair of hands fell on Nathan's shoulders. He blinked and looked up just in time for him to be thrown back into the opposite table. That one fell backwards with a crash, destroying all the defiled projects atop it.

Mimsy's lip quivered. "I asked ya to stop, Boss. I even said ‘please’..." 

As Mimsy wiped away tears on his arm, the door opened. 

"What is going on in here — Oh my Gosh!" One of the adults gaped at the scene. 

Nathan scrambled to his feet, jabbing a finger at Tweek. 

"He tried to come and break everyone's projects," He accused. "We came here to stop him from ruining everyone's fun. Tweek is a big cheater!"

"That's not--argh! That's not what happened!" Tweek countered though he didn't try to stand. His head hurt too much. Hopefully, his mom remembered to put the ice pack back in the freezer since Tweek smashed his elbow at the shop. Tweek was going to need it for the lump growing on the top of his head.

Slowly, adults and kids trickled in, looking on the destruction. Some of the younger kids started crying. A few of the adults already had phones out, preparing to call parents.

"Yes, it is, ma'am," Nathan said in his most sympathetic voice. "Tweek came in and was doing awfully naughty things to other people's projects. When Mimsy and I came in, he pushed me down.”

"No, he pushed me," Tweek snapped. "Please, Timmy! Timmy saw these two come in here, didn't you? Tell them!"

The adults turned to Timmy, who nodded once, glaring at Nathan. 

"See!" Tweek gestured. 

The adults still didn't look convinced. One walked right past Tweek to Nathan, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you hurt, sweetie?" She asked.

"A little bit, ma'am," he whimpered. “I have a scrape on my elbow. I might need stitches.”

"I'm telling the truth!" Tweek tried to stand, but the world spun too much for him to stay up.

Mimsy chewed his lip. His hands rubbed his stomach before he took a long, slow breath.

"Missum?" Mimsy tugged on the back of her shirt. "Nathan's lying. You see, we was gonna come in and ruin half of everyone's projects, so no one could tell we really were trying to ruin Tweek's teams, but Tweek came in, and Nathan pushed him and tried to put glue in his mouth. I’m the one who pushed Nathan."

Nathan growled. "Mimsy, you fucking traitor," He snapped. "See if I let you sit next to me at lunch now."

"Young man!" the adult gasped. "What did you just say?"

Nathan winced as he realized his mistake. She grabbed his shoulders and marched him towards the door. Mimsy twiddled his thumbs, uncertainly, before the adult yelled at him to follow her as well.

"Mimsy?" Tweek called. "That was really cool and brave of you. Thanks a lot."

Never before had Tweek seen a face light up as fast as Mimsy’s did at that moment. He giggled to himself before following after Nathan, almost skipping the whole way there.

---

Tweek slumped down against the table. His head still hurt, but at least the room stayed still when he moved. Timmy patted his shoulder as Jimmy sat down across from them.

"Nathan's parents just came to drove him and M-M-M-Mimsy home. They're in big trouble for this. They have to p-pay for the house kits they broke and aren't allowed at any R-R-Red Cross events for a whole six months." Jimmy cocked his head to the side. "I just don't get it. Why would Nathan do something so mean and nasty?"

Timmy slapped his palm to his forehead and dragged his hand down his face. 

"He is a dick bag," Timmy reminded him. "Remember camp?"

"Those were all just unfortunate accidents," Jimmy countered. Timmy rolled his eyes and let the topic drop. 

"And, anyway, Tweek. How are you f-feeling?"

Tweek shook held his head. "I'll be ok. I'm just glad I'm not in trouble, too. It's too bad we couldn't win the prize, though. Did you hear what happened to the gift cards?"

Jimmy nodded. "Yeah, they decided to judge the ones left standing and pick a winner from those, but open the contest again in a month for everyone else who got their projects wrecked."

"Who won?" Timmy asked.

A smile spread on Jimmy's face. "Kenny and his brother and s-s-sis-sister," he explained. "I saw their finished Kitten Dream House, and it was c-cool and creative! Better than our silly g-g-gingerbread idea by a long shot."

"Will you join us for the next contest?" Timmy wanted to know from Tweek.

Tweek winced. "No, thank you. I'll play by myself at home where no one is going to try to make me eat glue."

"Ah, that's a s-stinky spirit to have," Jimmy chided.

After all that had happened today, Tweek didn't care one bit how his spirit smelled. 

If even a fraction of what Timmy said was true, then he had to be very careful until Nathan's anger cooled--or turned back towards Jimmy. Who knows how long that will take!

But if Nathan was upset with Tweek, he was positively pissed at Mimsy for betraying him. 

Tweek pursed his lips then nodded to himself. 

Monday at school he would ask Mimsy if he wanted to join his table for lunch. It was the least he could do. Besides, as far as Tweek was concerned, Mimsy deserved a much better friend than Nathan, and he was willing to step up and be that friend.

---

AN: Shout out to my friend @najti-nightmare for help with the fic and title!

[ohnoboho]

ghosts in the flesh 1 (let’s meet our lovely contestants)

Dear reader, welcome to part one of my newest punk!Sanders multi-part fiction. A few of you voted for it, so here it is! @asofterfan‘s fantastic punk!Sanders Sides boys are going to go ghost hunting, eventually. For now, they are just going to be sassy at lunch (also a little glimpse of what’s to come for poor Virgil). It’s been a struggle to say the least with this, but I hope you will enjoy. 

much love, boho

Virgil watched the beam of the flashlight twist and spiral lazily as it fell through the air below him. The light swept over the decrepit walls of the shaft, deceptively slow. Only the deafening rush of air by his ears gave away how fast he was really falling. And something else, a voice hazy between the wind and his own blood pounding noisily in his throat he couldn’t quite make out. 

Below him, the flashlight finally made contact with the floor, the beam of light violently flailing as it bounced and rolled around the debris. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and let the terror run swift and frigid through his veins; one raw, guttural shout echoed off the metal walls before the ground rushed to meet him. He knew he was going to regret going that night.

Two weeks prior...

It had started off much the same as any of their other adventures, with a friendly argument.

An offhand comment during lunch hour from a passing student calling Roman a ‘banshee’ for his excessive wailing at the tragedy of dropping his bag of chips sparked it really. After the soda can Virgil had hucked made contact with the back of the offending student’s head and sent the group scurrying off, the punk grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that, Virge?” Patton looked up from his backpack. He tossed Roman a spare bag of cheez-its; the other boy caught it with a thrilled gasp.

“He was just stating that it’s incorrect to call Roman a banshee, because he’s not female. The term banshee translates literally to ‘fairy woman’ and he is neither of those things. Although….” Logan glanced up from the homework he had been working on with a smirk, locking eyes with the other boy. It took only a moment for Roman to catch on to the joke. The two actually laughed together.

“Roman would be a specter or a wraith.” Virgil continued, sliding back into his seat after retrieving the empty can. “I mean really, if he were anything, Roman would be an incubus. A very confused incubus, who’s shit at his job.” Patton and Roman exchanged puzzled glaces as Logan and Virgil elbowed each other cheekily.

“I don’t know what the hell that means, but since you villians seem to find it oh-so amusing, I’m guessing I should be offended.” The steampunk pouted as best he could between fistfulls of cheez-its.

Patton leaned forwards and rested his chin in his hands. “Gosh, Virgil, sounds like you know a lot about spirits and stuff! What would I be?” Virgil had to stop himself from laughing at the juxtaposition of the pastel punk’s very serious expression with his delicate sipping on a juice box.

“I think you’d probably be a brownie.” The punk fiddled with his hoodie string as he spoke, shifting uncomfortably as his stomach let out an audible growl.

“oH MY-”

“He’s not referring to the fuckin’ baked good, Patton.” Logan cut off the boy’s cheery giggles, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Brownie used here refers to a type of house gremlin.”

“Gremlins?” Patton cocked his head with a frown. Without looking, he plunged a hand into his backpack again and fished around. “Aren’t they usually mean?”

“In some cultures, but not brownies.” Virgil explained, absently accepting the orange Patton slid across the table to him. “They are little fae that pick a family they like and live in their house. They help out around the house with chores and shit and the family leaves them treats and toys to say thanks.” The dark boy kept his eyes on the orange as he carefully pulled at the peel and shrugged casually. “Seemed like a good fit to me.”

The pastel boy cooed, clapping his hand together excitedly. “Awwww, I love them!” Tucked under his hood and his bangs, a small smile crept across Virgil’s face.

Roman finished shaking the last crumbs from the cheez-it bag into his mouth, before tossing it aside. “Well, aren’t you just a regular Necro-NERD-icon! I mean, is anyone really surprised that Sabrina the Emo Witch here knows so much about ghosts though?” Virgil only stuck his tongue out in response. 

Logan offered an explanation distractedly as he scribbled away at the margins of his notes. “When we were kids, we used to go ‘ghost hunting’ around town quite often. To be honest, it was always less about the ghost hunting and more about creatively trespassing into ruined buildings.” Virgil munched on an orange slice thoughtfully and gave a hint of a smile at the precious memories of the little delinquent children they were.

“Woooow! Didja ever contact any ghosts?” Patton gasped eagerly.

“What? No, of course not!” Logan scoffed, tapping his pen sharply on his glasses frame. “Paranormal and supernatural creatures aren’t real, Patton. Although, it did take me quite a while to convince this idiot of that.” He jostled the boy next to him with his elbow and received a sound smack to his shoulder in return.

“You didn't convince me of anything, ass. I just stopped arguing with you.” Virgil grumbled sarcastically, flicking a pip directly at Logan’s glasses. It bounced off with a ‘plink’ as Logan started to squawk angrily.

“That’s just ridiculous! It's an absolute fact that ghosts aren't real and you know that, because there is no way that my best friend is as fucking dim as Dumb and Dumber over there.” Logan pointed sharply at the two punks across from table who froze in place right in the middle of Patton attempting to spit some juice from his straw into Roman’s open mouth.

“Excuse me!?” The steampunk sputtered, slapping his hands down on the table. “First, Specs, how dare you? Puff and I are creative geniuses.” The smaller boy echoed his assertion with a small 'yeah!’.  “And second, Nerd, how dare you? You assume that I believe in the supernatural? Why? Because I have a deep appreciation for fairytales? Because I happen to have an undying love for Disney’s Haunted Mansion ride? Everyone knows the ghosts are projections, Logan! Another fabulously clever way that Disney’s magic comes to life for little princes and princesses and other young royalty! ” Roman gestured about wildly as he ranted. His voice boomed through the courtyard where they sat as his armful of bangles rang noisily. The other students groups perked their heads up at the sounds of a possible fight, but quickly went back to their lunches as they realized it was just Roman.

Logan was taken aback for a moment before he leaned in with a raised eyebrow. “Wait, you don’t-”

He was cut off by a whine from Patton. “Roman?! You don't believe in ghosts? How un-BOO-lievable!” The pastel punk pressed his palms to his chest, miming being shot through the heart.

“I believe in using them as a clever literary device to force a character to confront their baggage from the past.” Roman said with a chuckle, reaching over to ruffle his friend’s colorful curls. “But no, Patton, ghosts and goblins and demons, they’re not real. They’re just fantastic stories!”

Logan blinked rapidly, removing and replacing his glasses a few times. “I’m agreeing with Roman? About ghosts?” His voice was distant and quiet.

“But you can’t know that for sure…” Virgil spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, I don't know if I believe in supernatural shit, but there is always the possibility…”

“What?!” Logan balked, dropping his pen with a clatter. Suddenly his closest friend seemed to sprout another head. Another head that was spouting nonsense.

“Yeah!” Patton jumped in, nodding vigorously. “Virgil’s right! You can’t be so sure they aren't real! What about all the people that have had ghost experiences?”

“Oh, Puff, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but people lie, cutie pie!” Roman laughed loudly, striking a dramatic pose. “It’s all just theater. You know, con people are some of the greatest actors! I can’t say I haven't given it some thought for myself. I could make millions!” The steampunk preened.

“I’m agreeing with Roman….” Logan repeated like he was practicing words from a different language, trying to decipher the meaning. The other boys ignored him, intent on their conversation.

“Not everyone is a big fucking fraud, like you, Roman.” Virgil gruffed. He picked at his nail polish, trying his best to sound nonchalant. “And not everything can be explained away, so, fuck it, maybe it's worth it for people to study ghosts and stuff. Someone could find some evidence that changes everything.”

“That’s right! People thought atoms were made out of pudding before they saw them in microscopes!” Patton asserted proudly, crossing his arms resolutely across his chest. Virgil and Roman shared a bewildered look, while Logan just slowly removed his glasses from his face and took a breath.

“PATTON-” Logan erupted loudly, before he was cut off again.

“Yeah, we definitely don’t have enough time for you to dive into whatever the hell that was, Lo. Let’s make a wager.” Roman leaned in over the table. “I’ll bet that we could go a full night in a ‘haunted’ location and not find a single piece of evidence of any of your ‘ghosty friends’.” He chuckled smugly and bounced his eyebrows at Virgil.

Patton lunged forwards to clasp one of Virgil’s hands in his own. “Ooh! The Boo-lievers (that’s us, Virge) versus The Debbie Doubters (that’s you two)!” The table nearly shook as he wriggled with excitement. Virgil held in a laugh behind his free hand.

“The Debbie Doubters?!” Roman scoffed, feigning great offense. “Logan, you will have to help me come up with a better team name than that if we are to win this. Here, I’ll start a list!”

Mercifully, the bell rang before Logan could full come back to his senses. Virgil, grateful for the distraction, tugged at Patton’s sweater to drag him along to their art class, while Logan waited impatiently for Roman to join him on their way to chemistry.

“This isn’t over, you dastardly Boo-lievers!” The steampunk yelled after the other two boys, giving Logan a hearty slap on his back. “The Science Studs will school you!”

“That is the stupidest fucking name...” Logan grumbled, shoving Roman roughly with his shoulder in the direction of their class.

“How about The Eclectic Skeptics?”

“No.”

“The Para-No-mal Punks?”

“Fuck no.”

to be continued...

Taglist:

@funsizedgremlin

[stephicness]

Fantasy Daddy Simulator -- Final Fantasy XV x Dream Daddy Headcanons (Part 3)

PHEW! I think this is my last installment for now in the FFXV x DDADDS headcanons for you all. c: I decided to just go with three of these dad dudes in this one, since there are a few that I thought about but ultimately decided to skip on. Need more information! Or some of them were briefly mentioned as it is in the other headcanons and that type of thing. Gosh, these were fun to write! Perhaps I’ll write more about these headcanons in drabbles or more individualistic headcanons about them. If you all are interested in either one of those. c;

For now though, enjoy the last part of the FDS headcanons, my friends! Thanks for letting me write and share these with you all~

PREGAME NOTES

Let’s add about 15-20 years on these boys. Give them time for the children to grow older.

Let’s also say they live in that cul-de-sac area just like from Dream Daddy.

And the children are just me throwing dumb thoughts your way. Because yay for thinking up of headcanons (and child characters unmentioned!).

FANTASY DADDY SIMULATOR – FFXV x Dream Daddy (Part 3)

Featuring: Nyx Ulric, Titus Drautos, and Dino Ghiranze

PART ONE – Featuring Noctis, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio PART TWO -- Featuring Ravus, Ardyn, Loqi, and Cor

Nyx Ulric – Adoptive Father, Father of One Girl and Two Boys

Likes: Being the Hero, Smoking, Watching TV and Napping, Busting A Sick Dance Move Dislikes: Guys Hitting on His Daughter, People Who Yell at Him, Having to Pay Per View

Nyx Ulric is a man married to his job as a police officer. There’s nothing that could be avoided about that with Police Commander breathing down his neck about Nyx doing his work so he can go home to his kids.

But the thought of that was really nice, Nyx thought to himself. To be able to go home and see his kids, kiss his spouse on the cheek, and just be able to have a good family life instead of going back to his crusty apartment. Not that he’d have a spouse anytime soon. Unless their name was the LPD, that is.

However, when he found himself investigating a series of domestic violence calls to a single address, he knew that the married life was a lot harder than it looked. He arrived and managed to get the parents away from the children, arresting both parents as the little girl held her face to cover her black-eye.

After having taken the kids back to the precinct, he was supposed to get their statements and then find a guardian who would take them. But no guardians were known in the area, and it seemed like the kids were refusing to go in the first place. The only one who could calm them down was Nyx.

So Commander Fleuret let out a sigh and asked Nyx if he can let the kids stay at his apartment to calm down and avoid being scared at the police station even more than before. Nyx agreed, but he’d need to clear out all of those empty beer bottles in his place first. Oops. Those aren’t for kids!

Eventually, he and the children bonded by making pillow and sheet fortresses in the living room so they can sleep, learning more about their situation from the eldest son and how they just wanted to get out of there to make sure their little sister wouldn’t get hurt anymore.

Sympathizing with them, Nyx promised to make sure he’d find them a place far away from their abusive parents.

Nyx, however, after the few days of keeping an eye on the kids, refused to let them go to any shelter or home. But with how bad his apartment really was, he’d have to get his act together to give them a better place. So with what money he had saved for that new car he really wanted, he put a down payment to rent an actual house for himself and the kids, asking if they would want to come live with him now that he actually had a new place.

And so, with their agreement, Nyx became their adoptive father. One step closer to that fancy dream. Now he just needed a spouse of some kind. Could you rent one maybe? Wait, no. That’d be called hiring a prostitute. Oops. Oh well, he can just ask Uncle Libertus and Auntie Crowe to drop by and make the family a bit bigger.

Speaking of Libertus and Crowe, they visit often enough with the others from the precinct for the kids to consider them like their aunts and uncles. Even Tredd comes over to steal some food, but finds himself bonding with the youngest boy and giving him pointers on how to actually be good at doing, well, anything (unlike his dad).

Despite him having two sons and a daughter, he hated to admit it, but he spoiled the living hell out of his daughter. He and his sons both did. He’d keep every cute photo of her in his wallet next to his boys’ photo with their soccer trophy, pointing at the photo and going ‘THERE’S MY LITTLE GIRL. And my boys.’

Nyx would also volunteer to chaperone every school dance too – especially the ones where he knew that his little girl had a boyfriend to go with her. So you would literally just see Nyx, standing bodyguard position in the corner as he and his boys stare down the Amicitia kid when his hands wandered too low on her sides.

He wouldn’t change this life for anything in the world. Because after being able to bond with the kids he rescued and protected, he knew that there was something out there worth fighting for.

 Titus Drautos – Widower, Father of One Girl

Likes: Reading Smutty Literature, Kicking Ass, Boxing, Cosplaying Dislikes: Guys Staring at His Daughter’s Ass or Boobs, Insubordinate Punks, Hearing ‘Are We There Yet?’ Whenever He Drives

He’s an older guy, he’s not afraid to admit that. But regardless of how old he is, he’s still able to get out his baton and beat you to hell and back. It’s how he managed to become the Chief of the Police, after all, and he runs the police department well.

He’s a grumpy old bastard, even more so after his wife passed away from sickness, so don’t you dare try to piss him off unless you really want to get beaten up. He doesn’t really care if you’re a perp or a cop. If you get in his way to get the job done, guess who’s going to have a taste of some Drautos-brand beatdowns?

Of course, there is one person in the world that he’s got left that does know how to calm him down, and that’s his daughter. Tall with eyes just like her father. And also, buxom enough to draw a lot of attention whenever she decides to drop by the police department and say hello to all of the officers.

Drautos shoots a lethal glare at them all when their eyes lock onto her for too long before he and his daughter go out to dinner, and he makes sure that none of those slimy guys gave her their phone number. If anywhere was going to date his little girl, it wouldn’t be anyone he knew directly.

Or if he had it his way, his daughter wouldn’t date anyone no matter what.

His daughter had grown up to be a rather successful writer, one who graced the world with her popular novels known as The Glaive of Kings, inspired by those who she met in her real life.

The books became so popular that she often is invited to be guests at conventions and events that make her father really proud of her. His baby girl being a successful author!

Though when he finally did decide to read her books, he was shocked to see just how profane they all were. Violence, sex, scandal – and where those two men doing it on top of a burning citadel?! He had to close the book, red-faced as he stared at his eager daughter looking for feedback.

But despite his first initial shock, he’s his daughter’s number one fan and sometimes helps her promote her books by building a full-replica model of the evil General Laucag’s armor. He wore it for a few days to Insomnime, claiming that he was on a ‘business trip’ instead.

His lie was short lived as Officer Ulric and his partner Officer Ostium arrived at the convention to make sure everything was peaceful and well.

They recognized Drautos’s daughter, asking her how things were. In which she gladly replied, ‘Things are great! My father’s been really raking in the crowd!’

They both turn and stare at the armor-clad, sword-wielding behemoth of a general standing next to her before they felt Drautos’s deathglare through the suit of warbola and PVC armor. If they spoke of this at work even a little bit, they’d be worse than fired.

So they simply backed away, allowing Drautos and his daughter to take photos with the fans. Man did that armor look cool though…

 Dino Ghiranze – Divorced, Father of Three Boys, One Girl, and Too Many Dogs

Likes: Jewelry Making, The Latest Gossip, Hanging His Kids’ Art On The Walls Dislikes: Uncreative Minds, Picking Up After the Dogs, People Cutting Him Off On The Sidewalk (Cause He’s Walkin’ Here!)

What has two hands, access to all sorts of creative juices, and a studio dedicated to making his jewelry and miniature metalwork sculptures? Dino does! It was unfortunate that he decided that his metalwork and passion for making jewelry was more important than his wife, but it was all okay, he supposed.

Because in the end, the kids all wanted to stay with him anyways.

He’s a bit more of the struggling father compared to the others, mostly because he had quit his job as reporter to pursue jewelry making full-time and decided to try living off the idea of taking on commissions to provide for himself and his four kids.

Despite it being rough though, he’s been doing well with his business, getting commissioned by people (including the rich eris of the Fleuret family at one point) to craft two wedding rings. That handsome sum of money was enough to afford his house’s rent for an entire year!

It’s those types of commissions that’s able to get Dino by in terms of rent, and they actually come a lot more frequently than he anticipated. But that’s all the better, because then he was able to work as he could and then spend time with his children and teach them all about the craft.

Not like they really wanted to know about it, except for maybe his daughter, but he didn’t really mind it because all of them became artistic in some sort of way.

His eldest son is a ceramicist, learning the art during his high school days and just having a natural knack for it ever since. His other two sons (identical twins) both decided to become painters and drawing media artists, and they’ve been working on a comic book together to one day beat out the famous Glaive of Kings book and TV series.

Dino’s daughter and the youngest in the family is still trying to find his knack of things, but really likes the idea of doing what his dad is doing. It’s mostly just him stringing beads together and saying that it’s a pretty necklace, but Dino adores it anyways, wearing them all with pride whenever he can.

He’s proud of his kids’ artworks, always displaying them around the house in what he calls ‘La Gallaria della famiglia Ghiranze.’ Basically, the family gallery. His eldest occupies the kitchen with all of the dishes and platters he throws, his twins litter the walls with paintings and drawings framed and taped on walls, and his little daughter gets her brothers and father to model for her.

Of all the things though, Dino could do without the random dogs that his children like to collect. Strays, adopted ones, dogs who just wandered into the wrong part of the neighborhood and crossed paths with the Ghiranzes, they all for some reason end up at Dino’s house.

There were a few times that the Amicitias’ dog ended up at Dino’s house. So when the girls asked if they saw Behemoth around, Dino assumed it was the Saint Bernard that the twins literally rode home one day.

Nope. Instead, it was the wiener dog that his daughter stole to get revenge on one of the Amicitia boys putting gum on her bracelet. Dino apologized to the girls before giving them back their dog and apologizing on behalf of his daughter.

He gave her a high five when nobody else was looking though. Way to really stick it to the man!

[artificialqueens]

Baby, New York City: Chapter Five (Biadore) - Boleyn

AN: HELLO WORLD. I HAVE RETURNED. I’m so sorry this took me over a month to get to y'all!! Life got super hectic and I felt so absolutely overwhelmed and unmotivated but I’m here and here is the next chapter! Thank you so much to everyone that’s been keeping this little story in their thoughts. Y'all pushed me to keep going! I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter Five: Workplace Distractions and Stage Time Together

Roy sat around the large oak table trading bored glances with Shane the vocal coach. It was the monthly staff round table and why the hell they held them on Monday mornings was a mystery Roy had never figured out. He looked over to where University President RuPaul Charles was droning on about rising costs necessitating less extravagant freshman and sophomore productions. Roy rolled his eyes. He didn’t know why he needed to be present for this discussion. I coach comedy. Most of the kids I work with end up standing in front of a microphone and telling jokes. They don’t need production. They barely need lighting. Some of them would benefit from less lighting. No lighting even.

Shane sniggered from across the table at Roy’s antics. Roy looked at him and hammed up his performance, crossing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

Willam, a dramatics professor, began to spar with President Charles over attacking the theatrical department disproportionately and Roy animatedly sighed. Great. He knew that if Willam got started, there was no way that this meeting would end before his 10 am lecture. Shane sensed the direction the situation was going and extended an arm, gently pulling Willam back down. He smiled at Willam. “I’m sure this is something we can discuss with President Charles? The vocal department is also being effected by this and I would love to partake in this discussion. Dr. Charles, is there any way concerned faculty can address the budget deficit and proposed solution with you at a more appropriate time?

God fucking bless you, Shane. Yes. Let’s get the fuck out of here. He snuck a look at his phone and noticed a text notification from Danny. He felt the corners of his mouth pull up, wishing he trusted himself enough to open the text now and not grin like a fucking idiot. He tried to school his features before looking up again, immediately making eye contact with Shane who was staring him down quizzically.

“Of course we can discuss it, but remember that the final decision is mine to make,” Dr. Charles announced, closing his leather portfolio and looking across the room. His eyes mildly reprimanded Roy. Guess subtlety will never be my strong suit. “That’s all. Make your way to your lectures.”

Everyone waited until RuPaul had exited the conference room before stirring and making small talk with those around them. Roy barely had time to stand before Shane was practically on top of him.

“Okay,” the lithe Australian chided him. “What’s going on with you? You’re all happy and smiley. Where’s my reliable cynic?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “What, cunt? I’m not allowed to be happy every once in a while?”

“No, actually you’re not. Not unless I get to know what’s got you that way. Did someone you hate die?”

Roy loudly sighed. “No, Shane. Someone did not die. I’m happy not fucking ecstatic.”

Willam burst out laughing as he dragged the new dance coach over with him. “Bitch, it would take a fucking miracle to get you jolly.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Okay cunts. I don’t need your fucking shade. It’s too early for this shit.”

“Y’all I need to get me some go-go juice. Where the hell can a lady get a Red Bull up in this gig?” the new dance coach interrupted in a lilting southern drawl.

“I need caffeine if I’m going to be around you two all day,” Roy agreed turning to the big-haired woman beside him. “I’m Roy Haylock. I teach comedy and scene study.” He extended his hand to the tall, slender woman, using the moment to take in her entire presence. She had hair up to high heaven, piled over onto one side, and a shoulder padded, dark green, brocade blazer and pencil skirt combination on. She had sleek black pumps on that were an inch or two taller than perhaps professionally appropriate, but certainly accentuated her toned calves.

“My name is Miss Alyssa Edwards and it’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetie.” She daintily placed her hand in his and smiled toward him. She seemed larger than life itself.

Roy smiled back at her, retracting his hand and turning to face Willam and Shane. “You assholes coming on a coffee run?” He deadpanned at the two fuckers he called friends. He heard Alyssa give a small, scandalized gasp.

Shane laughed, intertwining his arm with Roy’s. “I’m not going anywhere until you’ve told me what’s going on.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Willam?”

“I’m not doing shit until my 1 o’clock,” he quipped.

The group of four meandered their way to an on campus Starbucks taking turns reading one another along the way. Alyssa could hardly keep up with the three. She knew she liked them but she couldn’t imagine spending every moment with your friends on your toes, waiting for the next bomb to drop. The topic of discussion was blessedly never her, so she used her time with them to observe the odd trio of professors that she now worked with. They stepped through the doorway into the Starbucks. The place was littered with students, all flamboyantly dressed, with scripts or instruments or lyric sheets spread around them. Alyssa smiled. She missed Texas like hell, but she was also grateful to be in an environment that fostered creativity in all its forms and expressions.

Roy made a particularly devilish comment about Courtney’s choice in bed partner and Willam nearly doubled over laughing.

Alyssa’s head snapped over to him and her eyebrows flew up to her hairline of their own accord. “Girl, your laugh sounds like a fucking asthmatic seal.”

All three of the men turned to look at her, eyes wide. Alyssa began to panic. Maybe she wasn’t allowed to join in their mockery yet? Maybe there was some sort of right of passage she needed to complete first?

Suddenly Roy burst out into a gigantic grin and laughed. “That was good bitch! That was good!” He clapped as the group got into the Starbucks line.

Alyssa felt relief was over her. She was definitely in.

Roy walked up to the counter and frowned. He hadn’t been able to go to the Steampot this morning before work. He was surprised by how much he missed it. The barista smiled widely at him.

“Hey Dr. Haylock! What can I get started for ya?” It took Roy a moment to realize who the younger man was.

“Oh my gosh! Tyler! I barely recognized you! You must be in your, what? Senior year now?” Roy smiled, remembering Tyler the busted, annoying freshman from his costuming course three years ago.

“Yep. Last year and then out to the real world,” he said with far too much enthusiasm.

“You’ve got a storm coming kid,” Roy laughed, not managing to appreciate Tyler’s sickening optimism near as much as Danny’s enthralled him.

“I’ll miss this place. Not my professors though. Just you. You were always my favorite. Funny, nice, charming. Always happy to stay after and help me when I couldn’t get something right,” Tyler smiled sweetly at him.

What the fuck? Roy looked back at him quizzically.“Umm, I’ll take a black coffee, double shot,” he stated, uncomfortable under Tyler’s oogling.

“Someone likes theirs strong, Prof.” Roy handed Tyler a few bills and immediately retreated away from him to the opposite end of the counter.

Roy watched as Shane placed his order, paid, and made his way over to Roy. He grinned fanatically at him. “Someone likes you.”

“Disgusting.” He returned Shane’s gaze, face devoid of humor.

“Oh come on you old grump! He’s cute, not in any of your classes, and he’d be an easy shag. He practically screams bottom!”

“You should know, bitch. Takes one to know one.”

Shane enjoyed watching his friend squirm. Very few things were able to throw Roy quite like students’ misplaced affections were. “Then you won’t mind if I went ahead and gave it a go?”

“Shane, that’s inappropriate.”

“What? He’s never been in any of my courses, I’m younger than you are and he’s a senior. And I’m practically a regular top now. I’ve done it twice this month!”

“The age thing doesn’t matter. He’s a student here and you’re a professor.

“The age thing doesn’t matter? Roy, you dog! He’s got to be like ten years younger than me. I’ve never known you to be one to ignore something like that.”

“Listen age is just a thing. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how many years are between two people if everything else just clicks, you know?”

Shane looked at him intriguingly before his entire face lit up in understanding. “Roy Haylock. I’ve figured it out. You are involved with a younger man.”

Roy’s phone chose that moment to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text message notification from non other than Danny. Roy involuntarily smiled.

“And his name is Danny,” Shane observed, quickly peeking at Roy’s phone screen.

“Shane, for fuck’s sake, keep your voice down!” Roy hissed, noting that Willam had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Roy’s got a man?” Willam excitedly chirped, grin still obnoxiously plastered across his face. Roy felt flashes of irritation pulsate through him.

“It ain’t none of your damn business what body I got in the trunk of my car, queen,” he threw back, eyes challenging Willam to continue.

Willam either decided to ignore the glint in Roy’s eyes or the look went over his head as he barged on, “bitch, you wouldn’t be this defensive if the body was dead. You found yourself some dick!”

Roy’s gaze turned witheringly cold, burning into Willam. Alyssa felt the weight of Roy’s stare and stepped back a few feet, overwhelmed by the intensity. Willam appeared to be oblivious, grinning idiotically at the other man.

“If you all must know, I met someone but it’s very new. Happy now?” Roy stressed his ending question, daring someone to continue.

“Oh c’mon Roy! You can’t leave us with just that!” Shane whined, grabbing his and Roy’s drinks off the counter. “You’re not getting this,” he teased, shaking Roy’s beverage, “until you spill some T.”

Roy practically growled. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you fucks. Okay, his name is Danny. He works at a coffee shop that I go to. We’ve only been on one date. It’s not even a real thing!” I want it to be. It could be.

Shane narrowed his eyes and Roy squirmed under his scrutiny. He was relieved that his tanned skin hid the blush he felt creeping up his neck.

“Have you fucked him yet?” Willam asked loudly drawing the attention of the other patrons to them.

Alyssa gasped. “I … I am shocked. What the hell kind of question is that? He just said they’ve only been out once!”

Willam looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Yeah, so you get dicked?”

“Oh, honey. No, not my gay ass. I was raised a good Christian woman. I don’t live in sin baby.”

Roy and Shane started laughing as Willam took time to process the information being presented to him. “No, no I’d rather fuck now and go to hell later. Bet there’s amazing dick down there.”

Alyssa gasped and pointedly turned away from Willam. “Baby, sweetie, you need Jesus. Now Roy,” she quipped, attention fixed fully on him. “When we gon have a good ‘ole church wedding?”

The three men cackled in laughter as they walked out the store back toward the Performance Arts buildings. Alyssa followed them, warmth settling in her heart at having made three fast friends among the faculty her first day here.

–

Danny’s phone rang again. He cringed when he saw the Caller ID display Michelle Visage. Fuck. Ugh, might as well just fucking deal with it man. He took a deep breath and tapped his phone screen.

“Hey,” he more or less whispered, subconsciously hoping that his manager would think he hadn’t answered if he were quiet enough.

“Daniel. I’m guessing you’re either in a hospital or a prison. I can’t come up with any other explanation for why you didn’t show up to our meeting yesterday. Without notice, I might add,” the stern, older woman barked into the phone, her Jersey accent more pronounced in her anger.

“Yeah, sorry. I kind of lost track of time. I was totally vibed out and writing and feeling and shit. I had to go to that space and, like, do whatever I had to for the music, you know? I’m a Libra.”

“Mmmm.”

“But I got a shit ton done, man! Wanna hear some? I promise it’s fucking cool.”

“Go on.” Danny winced at the lack of emotion in her voice. He was sensitive to her energy and the negative aura was killing his enthusiasm. Her opinion mattered more to him than anyone else’s. She was his manager, she had believed in him and trusted him before anyone else. He hated the thought that he might disappoint her.

Danny nervously walked over to his keyboard and put his phone to speaker as he sat down. He flipped his notebook a few pages back and cleared his throat. “Okay, so it’s called Constellations and it’s not done yet but I’ve got, like, almost all of it in my head already.”

He ran his fingers gently over the keys once before beginning to play them, beating out a soft tune. He took a deep breath and silently prayed that Michelle would like it.

“It’s the weekend, anything can happen

Anything can happen tonight.”

Danny smiled as he thought back to taking small peeks at Roy over the top of the sketchbooks, watching him quickly turn away, trying not to be caught also staring.

“Feel the space with cosmic revelation

Let our bodies go on and fly.”

Danny’s mind flashed back to Roy’s lips pressed against his, his heart beating against Roy’s, the world slipping away save for everything that was them.

“And just surrender

Live forever

It’s all ours tonight.”

Danny closed his eyes and briefly allowed himself to picture a future where he was worldwide superstar rocking out on stage every night but with Roy waiting to hold him at the end of the night, traveling the world with him, supporting him, saying sweet, validating things to him.

“A million stars light up the night

The constellations give me life

And heaven’s boulevard it’s shining.”

Danny opened his eyes and it was suddenly last night. He and Roy were walking hand in hand down the street, the dark sky illuminated with specks of light.

“I’m givin’ in, and letting go

The constellations fill my soul

Our heart beats are on zero gravity.”

He raised a hand to his chest where his heart was frantically hammering. He looked around himself and it was his room again. A small smile graced his lips. He felt strangely nostalgic and novel at the same time.

“Okay, I’m impressed. That’s one of the best things you’ve ever written.”

Danny flushed with pride. Yeah motherfucka yeah. I wrote that shit. “And that’s not the whole thing. I’ve got more of it done. The only thing I need to still figure out is the sound cuz it’s not, like, the same as my other stuff. I don’t want it to be, like, some party, dance track, cuz this is, like, some real shit to me.”

“Really? Talk to me, girl. What’s going on?”

Roy.

“Nothing, man. I just don’t want to, like, only have club songs. Like, I want to have some real life shit too.”

“I’m not buying it. Something’s going on. I think we both know that I’m not patient so you can tell me or I can force it out of you.”

Danny laughed. His manager was one of the greatest people he knew, but also stubborn, hot-tempered, and one of his most reliable critics. She was never shy to voice her opinion. Danny knew better than to keep her in suspense, especially when he was trying to redeem himself for skipping his meeting the previous evening.

“Okay, so I guess I like might have met someone,” he chewed his bottom lip as he waited for Michelle’s reply.

“Daniel Anthony Noriega,” she gasped. “It’s about time, girl! Spill, sweetie.”

“We met at the coffee shop. He’s so cute and so smart, like, he’s a professor at Juilliard. He’s been so nice and understanding and shit. Like, Gregg showed up to one of my shows this weekend and-.”

“Hold up. Who the fuck stopped by?” Michelle practically growled into the phone.

“Yeah. I don’t know how he found out where I was but, like, yeah he was there. But Roy was too and he made sure I was okay and he got me out of there. He took me to get pizza which was really fucking cool of him. And then he walked me home and we went out the next day so yesterday. And we went to this really fucking cool place where people like make sketches and leave them there. And so he drew me and then we got tacos and then he walked me home again. I know it kinda doesn’t sound like a lot but it feels like a lot and he’s so great.”

He heard Michelle laugh lightly and smiled himself.

“I’m glad you’re happy, baby. Just promise me something,” she said softly, Danny already knowing where this was going. “You promise me that this one treats you right or I get involved, okay? You deserve the best, Danny. Promise me you won’t let yourself settle for any less?”

Danny smiled sadly. He understood that Michelle was concerned for him, and he had given her every reason to be, the way he had stayed in his last relationship and hidden from view how bad it was. But he didn’t want Roy compared to that. Roy was a different person. Hell, Danny was a different person now.

“This isn’t anything like Gregg. He isn’t anything like Gregg,” Danny quietly answered.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, no more ditching your responsibilities. I’m not going to manage you if you can’t even show up to a damn meeting. You got that?” Michelle barked. Danny tried to keep himself from laughing. Michelle could only stay sentimental for so long before retreating back behind her wall of sarcasm and cynicism.

“Yes ma’am Mama Michelle. I’ll be a good boy.”

He heard her laugh. “Bye Daniel.”

“Bye Michelle!”

He smiled as he tapped the End Call button thinking about Roy.

He pulled open a new message to Roy and began typing.

Danny N: I missed you this morning.

Danny N: You know you have to be around to be a tease…

–

Roy finally managed to get rid of the three idiots. He smiled as he walked into his 10 am lecture room and realized hardly anyone was there yet. He pulled out his phone and hit the home button. The screen lit up and Roy’s eyes were automatically drawn to the text notification. He glimpsed at the clock, noting that he had at least ten minutes to indulge himself by trading texts with his adorable barista.

Danny N: I missed you this morning.

Danny N: You know you have to be around to be a tease…

Roy smirked.

Roy H: I’d say it was pretty successful considering you missed me and felt the need to text me to let me know about it *nail polish emoji*

Danny N: Okay, I take it back then.

Danny N: I missed the awesome fucking tip you always leave me.

Danny N: I may have to starve tonight without it. *crying emoji*

Roy had to keep himself from laughing at his phone screen. He was not going to be that crazy professor who had a mental breakdown before class. He was happy to let Dr. DuJour have that title.

Roy H: I knew you were only after me for the money …

Danny N: That and you’re amazing ass *tongue out emoji*

Roy looked up to ensure none of his students were close enough to catch a glimpse at his phone.

Roy H: Daniel! I am at work. A little subtlety please?

Danny N: K babe. Just know that the money isn’t your only asset I’m interested in. I’m all about the fucking package that comes with it …

Roy bit the inside of his lip discreetly as he flushed with warmth. He said babe. Is that just like a casual babe? Or is it like a babe-babe? Fuck Roy. Calm down, you’re reading too much into this. Play it cool.

Roy hesitated answering. After a couple minutes of trying to figure out what to say, his screen lit up with another text from Danny.

Danny N: And I mean the fucking package. *tongue emoji* *water drops emoji*

Roy glanced at the clock. 9:58. Great. I have two minutes to text Danny back, calm down, get my shit together, and remember what the fuck I was going to lecture on today. Fuck.

Roy H: And here I thought you liked my personality, whore.

Roy H: I need to start my lecture. QUIT DISTRACTING ME

Roy reluctantly turned his phone upside down onto the podium and got up to begin class. How he was going to focus on comedic timing in silent films was beyond him when all his mind would come back to was Danny and what it would be like to indulge in his package.

–

Danny nervously reordered his portfolio for the sixth or seventh time since he sat down outside his thesis professor’s office. Dr. Michaels had a reputation in the Creative Writing program. He was known to be supportive of his students’ exploration of their talents, but also super realistic about things. If your work wasn’t good enough or if you were running with an idea that wasn’t going to get you anywhere, Dr. Michaels would say so. He didn’t want to go in there with a month’s worth of research and written pieces just to be told that it was all for naught.

The door clicked open next to him and another student he recognized from his graduate courses walked out. She turned to look at him.

“You meeting with Michaels?” she asked, his voice monotone and dejected. What the fuck is her accent?

“Umm, yeah?” Danny replied, closing his folder deciding whatever order the pieces had fallen in was where fate wanted them.

“He’s ready for you.”

Danny stood up. “Party,” he responded automatically. His nerves were far more frayed than his go to word let on.

“Good luck. Nothing like having something you’re proud of torn to shreds to start the week, am I right?”

Danny had to remind himself to breathe. “Oh.”

The grey haired girl moved out of the doorway gesturing for Danny to go in.

Danny stepped into Dr. Michaels’ office, noting the pile of papers covered with red notes on his desktop.

“Hey there, Daniel. Take a seat. Let’s see what you’ve been working on.”

Danny smiled sheepishly and handed his folder over. Dr. Michaels took all the pieces out and spread them on the stretch of open desktop in front of him.

I spent all that fucking energy getting that folder together and this guy just dumps all of it out?! Danny internally groaned. Mental note: Dr. Michaels doesn’t give a shit what order shit’s in. He’s just going to throw it all around anyway.

Dr. Michaels silently thumbed through the pieces, moving from one onto the next without so much as glancing up at him. After he’d worked through the third piece, he finally made eye contact with Danny.

“Daniel, I don’t do this kind of thing often, I pride myself on being a professional. I’ve been at this university a lot of years and I’ve only come across this situation a handful of times before.” Dr. Michaels looked him straight in the eye as he spoke, never once wavering. Danny felt his breathe escape him and his lungs collapse.

Oh my god. I’m fucking awful. He’s telling me I’m not good enough. He’s telling me to leave. I can’t do this. Why did I ever tell myself I could? Why the fuck did I try? I knew I wouldn’t be anything! I’m just some no name kid from California who told himself he had a fucking shot. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuckkk.

Danny reached out to retrieve the papers he had worked so diligently on, the pieces of his soul he’d been so proud to share. He was desperate to get the offending words out of Dr. Michaels’s sight as soon as possible. “I’m so sorry Dr. Michaels. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so fucking sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry for saying that. I shouldn’t’ve come here. I’m sorry you had to read -.” Danny rambled, his face burning crimson, as he clumsily tried to grab his work back, managing to only shuffle them further over the open desk space.

A gentle grip settled on one of his wrists and Dr. Michaels laughed softly. Fuck, great. He’s fucking laughing at me for even thinking he should waste his fucking time reading my shit. Oh god. Fuck.

“Danny, no,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “I love it. Both your thesis work and this,” he explained as he pulled the piece Danny was holding in a vice grip, easing it from his hold. “This, your work, your writing, is amazing. I haven’t read something so uniquely stylized since …. Gosh I don’t even know, kid. This is special, you are special.”

The hot prickle of shame dissipated from his extremities and gave way to wonder. Dr. Michaels was … complimenting?! … Him? What???

Danny lifted his head up, his eyes gilded with unadulterated reverence. “What?” he barely managed to breathe out.

“Kid! I like your stuff!” he exclaimed in exasperation. He knew he had a reputation for being a hardass but was it really this shocking to get praise?

“You like it? Like seriously? Like, no disrespect or whatever, but like you’re not just shitting me?” Danny couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that the Chad Michaels actually thought his writing, the writing inspired by his darkest thoughts, was dope. What the actual fuck man?

“No, Daniel. I’m being honest. You’ve got something good here,” he replied, fishing one of Danny’s short stories out of the disaster Danny had made on his desk. “This,” he said, gently shaking the haphazardly paper clipped together bundle of sheets, “is genuinely one of the best things any student has written in this program, especially a first year. Your voice is reminiscent of Faulkner’s stream-of-conciousness. I’d like to work with you to polish it up some and submit it to a few lit magazines, see if we can get it published. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Danny could feel his mouth hanging open and mentally forced himself to shut it. “Yes, Dr. Michaels. Yes, that’d definitely be something I’d want to do. Thank you so much!”

“Alright kid. Let’s talk about your poetry,” Dr. Michaels smiled as he walked through several of the pieces Danny had brought with him. Many of the works ended up riddled with red marks, but each mark made was thoroughly explained. By the end of the meeting, Danny had pieces that were praised, pieces that were torn to shreds, but none in a way that made him feel incompetent or not good enough. Dr. Michaels had a way of critiquing him that felt entirely nurturing and empowering. Danny wanted to write, he practically felt new ideas buzzing within his soul. Holy fuck! This is so fucking goom.

Dr. Michaels held back another two of Danny’s pieces along with the initial one to read through more carefully before returning. Danny couldn’t believe it. THE Dr. Michaels, notorious for being the gatekeeper to success, loved his stuff! He nearly squealed with delight as he walked out of the professor’s office, thanking whatever diety (that may or may not exist) that he managed to contain it.

The thing that surprised Danny most was that he immediately wanted to tell Roy. Before he even thought of telling Jay or texting G about it, he was fixated on what Roy would think about it. Deciding not to second guess his gut, the same gut that had told him that New York was where he belonged, he pulled out his phone and began to type out a message.

Danny N: Oh my fucking god. I’m literally still shaking and I’m not even in the room anymore.

Roy H: Wtf?? What’s going on????

Danny N: I had my first dissertation check in with my thesis prof.

Danny N: It was actually terrifying.

Danny N: Like I don’t even know if I was breathing while it was happening.

Roy H: You’re a fucking asshole. I thought you were dying.

Danny N: I literally could’ve.

Roy H: But you made it through! What happened?

Danny N: He liked my stuff! Like the short fiction especially and that’s the shit I was the most proud of Roy! Like I actually cannot believe that this is real. I’m freaking out for all the best reasons but I’m so

Danny N: I don’t even know just like

Danny N: Ugh this is so goom I’m dead. *skull emoji* *skull emoji*

Roy laughed. He was changing in his office from his slightly less formal daywear into a slightly more formal evening suit and currently stood with his shirt unbuttoned and a bow tie draped over his shoulders. He had decided against running all the way downtown just to change. He couldn’t imagine how much it would have confused his two pups for him to rush into the apartment just to leave it again. No. It was better to fumble with his tie and suit jacket inside his cramped office.

Danny’s frantic texts were a more than welcome distraction. He’s been distracting me all day. Roy had barely managed to push Danny to the back of his mind the entire day. He had thought about him during his two lectures, one of which had focused on comedic timing in romantic dramas. How fucking convenient that had been. How could Roy not have fixated on his adorably disarming barista while discussing the role of physical humor in relationship storytelling.

Danny’s so fucking physical. I wonder what it would be like to lick up his-. No. No. Roy was not twelve. He could damn well contain his hormonal urges. He was an adult. A professor. A damn seamstress. Not some giddy youth only just discovering lust. No he was better than that.

Roy H: What the fuck is a ‘goom’?

Danny N: If you don’t know goom maybe you don’t know me…

Roy H: I don’t have a fucking clue what that means but I definitely know that I want to get to know you. All of you.

Danny N: I thought we weren’t supposed to send suggestive texts PROFESSOR.

Roy H: And what about that message was suggestive? I was just saying that I want to know more about you.

Danny N: Mhmm.

Danny N: so I guess that means you’re only interested in knowing me better with my clothes all on?

Danny N: *tongue out face*

Roy H: I’m open to the idea of spending time with you and your clothes ….

Roy H: ON THE FLOOR.

Roy H: And very much off of your body.

Danny N: I’m ready when you are babe.

Roy had to slow down. Since when did he send suggestive text messages? He had an important dinner to go to tonight. One where he would potentially be accepting an award. No, he could not just jet off to eat out Danny’s ass. He needed to be a fucking professional and spend a night with a bunch of old, washed up theatre nerds who had nothing better to do than finance the younger generation of art kids.

Pull it together Haylock.

Roy had lowered his threshold of maturity since meeting Danny. Not because Danny was younger than him, but because Danny managed to make HIM feel young. He felt like he was having his first crush all over again. Danny made Roy’s faculties desert him, his maturity vanish from grasp, and his physical reactivity escape control. Danny was so different from anyone Roy had previously known and it was equal parts exhilarating and absolutely terrifying.

Roy H: Regardless of what I want to do, I can’t tonight.

Danny frowned at his phone. So Roy wanted to sleep with him. That would be great, if he were coming over here to sleep with him. But he isn’t, because he “can’t tonight”. What the fuck does “I can’t tonight” fucking mean?! Danny groaned as he walked down the steps of the English department building.

Danny N: Life’s short old man. Gotta make the most of what you got left.

He felt a twinge of regret after having sent the text. It came off a little sharper than he wanted it to, but he was anxious. Don’t be fucking vague, man. I don’t need that shit.

Roy cackled as he read Danny’s message. He had managed to perch his phone on his desk at just the right angle so that he could read his texts while also looking into the mirror to arrange his tie and jacket pins. I don’t feel all that old around you kid. Roy smiled as he pondered what to write back.

Roy H: I’ll have even less life to live if I don’t show face at the Arts Education Banquet tonight. I’m pretty sure it’s mandatory for people being recognized.

Danny N: Who’s getting recognized? *eyes emoji*

Roy half sighed, half laughed in exasperation.

Roy H: You’re quick aren’t ya kid? What’d you get on your SATs? KETCHUP?!

Danny N: Fuck you! I got more than that bitch!

Roy H: Mustard too?

Danny N: Fuck all the way off. Why do I even like you?

Roy H: I’m still asking myself that question *kissing emoji*

Danny N: Maybe it’s because you’re kind, understanding, accepting, brave, handsome, YOUR INCREDIBLE ASS, and because you’re insanely smart. Congrats on the award baby. Whatever it’s for, you deserve it and so much more.

Roy blushed. He felt his heart surge. He didn’t deserve someone so pure and kind. He didn’t want to go without seeing him. He couldn’t skip the banquet but arriving fashionably late wouldn’t be the worst thing he could do.

Roy H: Are you still at NYU?

Danny N: Yep! I was going to try to get some more writing done while here.

Roy thought back to NYU’s layout and cringed when he realized the English Department was right by a park. Almost instinctually Roy knew Danny would be going there.

Roy H: Please tell me you’re not actually going to Washington Park to write.

Danny N: And what if I am?

Roy H: You could not be more cliché.

Danny N: I vibe with nature man. It helps me open my mind.

Roy H: I’ve become very aware that you “vibe” with nature. I don’t know how I made it out of your room alive. It’s a fucking gas chamber!

Danny N: I’m from Cali. It’s my lifestyle.

Roy H: I have to be at NYU later tonight for this banquet, but I could be there in like half an hour and we could spend some time together?

Danny N: Fuck yeah! I’ll be at the park feeling my oats *nail painting emoji*

Roy smiled the whole cab ride uptown. Even the crawling traffic wasn’t able to dampen his excitement. He had been expecting a painful evening and, even though he would still have to go through the pomp and fare of a high society dinner, he now was going to have a bright spot to hold him over. He was going to get to see his adorable writer.

He practically jumped out of the cab as it pulled up to Washington Park. He quickly scanned the area around the fountain, guessing that would be where Danny would set up shop. Once again, he was right. On a small stretch of grass he saw the man he had been thinking about all day.

He looked like something out of some ridiculous pretentious indie fantasy. He was leaning back against a slender tree trunk with his legs propped up in front of him. A laptop was cradled in the angle formed by his stomach and thighs. He had dark wash skinny jeans, combat boots, a loose black tank top on with a red and black checked flannel tied around his hips bunched between him and the tree. He was intensely focused on what he was typing. A chocker encircled his neck deliciously.

What? Roy seriously needed to work on this damn control thing.

He strolled easily over to him, allowing himself some time to really just take in the vision before him. “Hey babe,” he said softly as he bent down to sit next to him.

“Roy! Hey!” Danny’s face lit up and Roy’s followed in response. He leaned forward to peck Roy’s lips chastely before shutting his laptop and throwing it into his bag. Once he had everything put away, his hand found its way to Roy’s, molding perfectly together. They sat there for a minute not speaking, just running their fingers over each other’s skin, enjoying the feel of the other.

“Want to go somewhere a little less public?” Roy suggested, smirking at the way Danny practically leaped up.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, suggestively raising one of his eyebrows.

“Somewhere dark, quiet, where I can have you to myself,” he nearly growled, capturing Danny’s lips again quickly before he grabbed his hand and began dragging him out of the park.

“I’m down,” Danny breathed into his ear, dipping down to press a delicate kiss to his neck.

Roy felt every part of him respond to the younger man. Roy needed to get Danny alone. Now.

He led Danny down E 4th to the performing arts center, dragging him through the doorway and down the hall.

“Are we even allowed to be back here?” Danny laughed, amused at the way Roy was walking through the halls as though he owned them.

“Wimping out, kid? I thought you were ‘punk’?” Roy tossed over his shoulder, cackling.

Danny smiled, happy to follow Roy wherever.

Roy turned one final corner before excitedly spinning around to face Danny. “This was one of the most important places to me when I went here. I made some of my best memories in this room.”

Danny smiled encouragingly at him as Roy pushed open the heavy metal door and lead him in.

“Before you read me for having taken the stage in this tacky, polyester-seating hall let me remind you that you sing in bars that have puns for names,” Roy said as he walked over to the stage edge and sat down.

Danny looked at Roy adoringly. “Nice try, bitch. At least I can order a beer while I work.” He moved over to where Roy was and stretched out next to him.

“Doesn’t matter if you bring your own.” Roy’s smile practically split his face in two.

“Whoa Roy. I’m not sure I can be with someone so hardcore,” Danny teased as he leaned in to capture Roy’s lips, the kiss quickly growing heated.

Roy leaned into the kiss, moving them so that Danny was pinned beneath him on the stage floor. He positioned one knee between Danny’s legs and caged him in with his arms. Danny raked his fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, earning a small moan from his man. He smiled slightly at receiving physical validation that Roy was just as affected by his touch as he was.

Roy’s hands began to wander, running down Danny’s sides and toying with the hem of his shirt. Danny felt Roy’s fingertips ghost along his skin and dragged his nails through Roy’s stubble in response, breaking away from the kiss to suck his lower lip.

Roy’s hands stayed at the junction between Danny’s shirt and belt, drawing figures along the exposed skin there. Every sliver of skin Roy managed to get to seared electricity through Danny.

Danny abandoned Roy’s lip and worked his way up his jawline to his ear. “More.”

Roy pulled slightly away from Danny to look in his eyes. “More?” He replied, searching his features to ensure that this was what he wanted.

Danny used the space to ruck up his shirt, roughly pulling it over his head and dropping it beside them. He returned his hands to Roy’s neck, fiddling with the exposed skin by his collar.

Roy’s eyes raked down Danny’s torso, following the small trail of hair leading out of site. He slowly returned his heated gaze to Danny’s eyes. “You sure?” He managed to breathe out.

“Yes,” Danny replied softly, moving one of his hands to guide Roy’s to his exposed torso. “Touch me.”

Roy responded with fervor, diving down to reclaim Danny’s lips in a bruising kiss, his hands exploring Danny. Learning, memorizing every part of him.

Danny felt on fire. His body covered in delicious burning heat wherever Roy had touched. He felt amazing. Roy somehow balanced passion with care. He was intense and consuming but intimate and gentle. Everything around him was Roy and he was drowning but felt incredibly alive.

Just as Danny’s hands had worked their way to Roy’s hips, grabbing handfuls of ass on their way there, Roy’s phone blared.

Roy broke away and groaned. Danny laughed as he recognized the song.

“You do not have Rocky Horror as your ringtone,” he giggled.

Roy shot him a dazzling grin as he answered his phone.

Danny felt his heart flutter with affection for his theater nerd. He watched as Roy’s eyes widened and he moved away from Danny, offering him a hand to pull him up.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry traffic was awful. Yes. I’ll be there soon. Tell them I’m on my damn way. Yeah. Okay. See you soon.” Roy rolled his eyes as he ended the call and looked apologetically at Danny. “We may have gotten a little carried away and I’m late to the dinner. I have to go.”

Danny frowned. “I’ll miss you, baby.”

Roy laughed. “I’m going to a dinner, I’m not going to China, bitch! You’ll live!” He pecked a kiss to Danny’s lips before leaning down to scoop his shirt up and hand it back to him.

Danny grabbed his shirt, using it as leverage to draw Roy back in, kissing him meaningfully. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll still miss you.”

They exited the theater and made their way out of the building, holding hands, Roy rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles. Once outside, they stood still, neither one wanting to leave the other.

Roy smiled warmly. “I really have to go babe. I’m sorry. I’ll be thinking about you.” He grabbed Danny’s hand, pecking a kiss to it.

“Text me how it goes,” Danny urged, pushing Roy away from him gently.

“Let me know when you get home?” Roy called, shuffling backwards away from him, holding his gaze.

“Go!” Danny laughed.

Roy smiled goofily back at him. “Bye.”

“ROY! GO!”

“Okay, okay, I’m gone. Bye!” Roy laughed, turning around and walking away.

Danny stared after him for a bit before turning in the other direction to head toward the subway platform.

His phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket.

Roy H: I miss you already.

Danny flushed with warmth. He really liked this man.

Danny N: I miss you too.