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spine-buster · 4 years

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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 31

A/N: Bubble chapters incoming.....!

July 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was getting frappucinos with Kasha.

She was happy she and Kasha were on the same page – that they would get tacos for a late dinner and bring them back to their place to eat. Neither were comfortable with dining in restaurants, even though it was allowed. It just wasn’t something they wanted to do just yet. So they’d take the tacos back to their apartment, sit on their balcony, and have a romantic date night with the frappucinos and – if Aberdeen was being honest – a bottle of rosé between them.

Kasha had to run to an ATM, so Aberdeen was left waiting for the tacos herself. It was a Saturday night, so the streets were somewhat busy – not as busy as they would have been during normal times, but busy enough that it made Aberdeen uncomfortable. What was everybody doing out? Where were they going? Who were they meeting up with? Why weren’t they staying at home? It was all very weird to her. Last summer she wouldn’t have even batted an eye; now, she was hyperaware of the people around her, hyperaware of standing six feet away from the other people ordering tacos, either in line or at the restaurant, and was clutching on to the strap of her bag so her hands didn’t fidget with her mask or touch anything else around her. She was getting tested every day at work, and thankfully she was lucky to have them always come back negative. She was being extra cautious. She didn’t want to—

“Aberdeeeeeen? Is that you?!” a voice suddenly called out from down the sidewalk.

Aberdeen looked to her right to see Saylor walking down the sidewalk with a posse of girls equally as glamourous as she was. Aberdeen looked down at her outfit and gulped. Leave it to Saylor to show up when she was waiting for a boatload of food and in clothes she just threw on to appear presentable in public. “Hey Saylor,” Aberdeen half-waved. More than anything, she was surprised to see Saylor in the city – from what she’d seen on Instagram, Saylor had gone back to Lake Forest during quarantine. Kasperi had joined her.

“You’re wearing a mask outside? I thought you didn’t have to here.”

“I was just inside,” Aberdeen pointed with her thumb to the restaurant. Not that she had to justify wearing a mask anywhere. The world was still in the midst of a fucking pandemic. “Just waiting for my food…and my friend.”

“These are my friends – Gina, Amanda, Jen, and Sadie,” she pointed to each girl. Aberdeen gave them all a quick nod. They couldn’t seem less interested in her. “Girls, Aberdeen works for the Leafs with Kasperi.”

Suddenly, all of their eyes shot forward. “Really?” the one identified as Jen asked. “What do you do?”

“I—I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she revealed reluctantly. She didn’t want to tell these girls anything, let alone her job.

“Kasperi told me you’re going into the bubble next week,” Saylor said before the conversation could go any further.

“I am,” she nodded, hesitating to even confirm the news to Saylor. After their last altercation in Los Angeles, Aberdeen was fine with never seeing her again. She was almost positive Saylor felt the same way, but apparently not.

“He said you’re going to be the only girl in there.”

Saylor was right. Aberdeen would be the only woman in the bubble for the Leafs. She was sure – well, she fucking hoped – that other women from other team staff would be at the hotel too. It would make the experience a lot less fucking awkward, that was for sure. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Saylor’s friend Gina snorted. “We all know what you’ll be used for.”

Aberdeen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Now she knew why Saylor didn’t just ignore her and walk by her on the street. She wanted other people to do her dirty work for her. She wanted to re-live what happened in Los Angeles, except this time, it would be five against one.

“Not yet,” Saylor smiled wryly. “Not until she gets her nose job.”

The other girls laughed. Aberdeen narrowed her eyes at Saylor. “I fucking love my big nose, alright?”

“I’m sure you do. That’s very homely of you,” Saylor rolled her eyes. “And I’m warning you now, you better stay away from Kasperi in that bubble.”

Aberdeen snorted out loud. Actually snorted. “Oh my God, is that was this is about?” she asked indignantly. “You’re…Saylor, you’re joking right?”

Saylor didn’t look too pleased that Aberdeen was laughing at her. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t touch your boyfriend with a ten-foot pole. I wouldn’t even touch him wearing a hazmat suit.”

Saylor took a step forward, trying to intimidate her. Aberdeen was laughing too much to care. The whole thing got so ridiculous so quickly that the only thing she could do was laugh. Saylor was completely out to lunch. “It’s so obvious that you’re so jealous of me,” she said.

“Saylor, I don’t even think about you at all.”

“We ready to go? I got our tacos,” Kasha’s voice suddenly interrupted the confrontation. Aberdeen looked behind her to see Kasha holding the bag up slightly, eyeing the situation. Aberdeen wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard. “Who’s this, Aberdeen?”

Aberdeen took a slight step back. “This is Saylor. Kasperi’s girlfriend.”

Kasha nodded once. “Have fun,” she said to the group of girls before linking her free arm around Aberdeen’s. As they took their first step forward, Kasha looked at Aberdeen. “Kasperi? Is that the one that DM’ed me?” she asked. Loudly.

Aberdeen didn’t turn around to see Saylor’s reaction. She didn’t need to. She knew she would have never seen someone turn so red so quickly in her entire life. And as they walked down the street, the wry smile on Kasha’s face grew. “Was that okay?” Kasha asked.

“You’re brilliant,” Aberdeen said. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do – okay, it definitely wasn’t the nicest thing to do – but God did it feel good. Kappy had never DM’ed Kasha before in her life. Aberdeen wasn’t even sure Kappy knew who Kasha was even though he met her at the Halloween party. “I might get a phone call later, but it was brilliant.”

“If you get a phone call, I’ll let them know that she said you weren’t hot enough without a nose job,” Kasha said.

“So you heard that?”

“That’s when I came in. The guy was calling your name and so I grabbed the food and lingered.”

Aberdeen smiled. “I love you, bitch.”

“Love you too, bitch.”

***

Message from: Kasperi Kapanen

I heard u ran into Saylor tonite?

Yes

Why did Kasha say I slid into her DMs?

Must have had to do with the fact that Saylor told me I wasn’t pretty enough for any of you to fuck in the bubble unless I got a nose job.

***

minskatt what did saylor say to u tn?

Nothing important because you love my nose and that’s all that matters

can i call u

No I’m with Kasha

minskatt please

It’s fine Willy I don’t care She’s dumb She thinks I’m jealous of her And she told me to stay away from Kappy in the bubble She thinks I want to sleep with him I mean 🤣

omg

Please don’t worry about it I’ll see you tomorrow

i love u

I love you too I want you to cum down my throat tomorrow Okay?

🥴🥴🥴

***

July 25th, 2020

Aberdeen and William promised each other they would take it slow because they wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

They were both fully packed. Aberdeen’s suitcase was packed back in her bedroom. A two-month supply of food and cat litter was bought for Minerva so that Kasha wouldn’t have to go get any, just in case the Leafs went all the way (which meant, at the end of August, she’d be getting on a plane to Edmonton, too). She had organized outfits – work and casual. She made sure to bring entertainment. The Louis Vuitton duffel bag they all got her for her birthday definitely came in handy. William had packed some clothes and shoes. Made sure to pack the basic necessities. He’d texted guys on the team to see what they were bringing in so he didn’t forget anything. He wasn’t the best packer.

Now, all that was left was to spend time together before they couldn’t anymore.

William didn’t want to go straight into sex. There was no point. The sex was great but what he wanted, more than anything, was intimacy – to be able to hold Aberdeen and feel her body pressed up against his; to be able to take in her scent as he always did and be calmed by it as he always was; to be able to bury his face in the crook of her neck and graze his lips along her skin there so delicately it made her shiver; to whisper ‘I love you’ over and over again to her while “Quitting You” by the Arkells played on a constantly loop quietly in the background of their time together. This is what he would miss. Florida was different – they were a country away from each other, and it was hard. But to have her working with them, in the same bubble, while everyone was around, on the same floor, and not be able to get her alone, go to her hotel room, even hold her hand? It would be torture.

He laid his head on her chest, hearing and feeling her heart beat as she ran her fingers through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and buried underneath her – he was sure the circulation would cut off soon but he didn’t care. He closed his eyes, and pictured them holding hands. Openly. Aberdeen was smiling. He pulled her into him and kissed her. They were in the team locker room.

“What are you thinking about?” Aberdeen’s soft voice broke the silence.

“You,” he said simply. “Us.”

“What about us?” she asked.

“Holding your hand,” he said. “Kissing you in the locker room.”

When he shifted his head to look up at her, she was smiling. “Do you hate me because we can’t?”

He shook his head. “I could never hate you, minskatt. You know that.”

“It’ll happen soon. I promise,” she said. “You won’t have to do anymore waiting.”

“Shhhh…” he cooed, moving up and nuzzling his nose against her jawline. “I’m not waiting for anything when you’re here with me, am I?” he asked, placing the lightest of kisses on her jawline.

Aberdeen sighed happily. “When I write my first book, I’m dedicating it to you. It’s gonna say ‘For William, for waiting’,” she said with a slight chuckle.

He chuckled too. “I look forward to it. Your second book can be dedicated to Siena or Cam or your parents.”

“Second book? I’m writing a second book, am I?” she smiled.

“Mhm,” he nodded her. “You’re gonna write a bunch of books, minskatt. And they’re all gonna be amazing, and you’ll be all literary or whatever, and everybody’s gonna buy your books.”

Her heart was growing a thousand sizes. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re gonna be a famous writer, minskatt. I’ll just be in the background.”

She curled around and shifted her body into his. Their lips came together tenderly as they began kissing each other, Aberdeen slipping her tongue into William’s mouth easily. His hands wandered down her body to cup her ass before he helped her hook her leg over his torso. They lay kissing for a while until their lips were red and swollen and their breathless gasps the only sound they could hear in the room. When William pulled away quickly to take a breath, Aberdeen shifted to lay on her back. “Willy?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“Minskatt?”

“Make love to me, Willy. One last time before the bubble.”

He picked her up and brought her to his bedroom, setting her down on the bed gently before crawling over her body and continuing their kissing. With some trusty hands, William’s hoodie was off, then Aberdeen’s top, then Aberdeen’s pants, then William’s pants. He kissed down her body, but she pulled him back up. “Willy—”

“Minskatt—”

“I just need to feel you inside me, Willy. Please.”

Somewhat reluctantly, he kissed his way back up her body, paying attention to her breasts for a while before he put on a condom and she wrapped her legs around him and he entered her slowly. Everything was so slow and gentle and intimate, and he’d buried his face into the crook of her neck again to kiss the skin there. When he came back up and looked at her, it was very clear to him that there were tears welling in her eyes. His mind immediately went into overdrive and his body seized up. “Aberdeen? Aberdeen why are you crying?”

“I’m not – no – no no no, it’s not you, it’s not you,” she let out quickly, cupping his face in her hands. His entire body had stopped moving as he hovered over here. She felt a few tears escape down the sides of her eyes, powerless to stop them. “It’s just me. It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You believe in me, Willy.”

“Of course I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you. Where is this coming from?”

“It was Florida. Sixty-one days away from you,” she explained. “Now in the bubble we’re going to be together but we can’t be together, and I want you to know how much I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Whatever happens in the bubble, I believe in you and I’ll always believe in you like you believe in me,” she said.

William’s heart panged at her statement. He craned his head to continue to kiss her, and she could feel tears – not her own – on her cheeks as well. His slow and steady movements, passionate and thorough and pleasurable all at once, reminded her of that love they just spoke of. They made love with everything they had in them. And when they climaxed, and William collapsed on top of Aberdeen’s body, she held him close to her, unwilling to let him go.

He shifted slightly to move out of her, but she tightened her legs around him. “No,” she pleaded. “Stay. I want to feel you inside me for as long as possible.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please Willy,” she almost begged, although she knew she wouldn’t have to. “Stay. Let’s just stay like this.”

***

July 26th, 2020

Aberdeen’s family had made it to the staff send-off before they went into the bubble. Camden and Siena came along too. Camden made her a card and gave her a crossword puzzles book he’d bought her at Indigo. When Siena hugged her, she said “Make good choices!” jokingly. Their parents would always say it to them before they got out of the car when they were driven to parties or the like.

If Siena only knew.

Once her family left, Aberdeen had the fantastic tasks of preparing the buses and organizing significant others to be far enough away from each other so everyone was still social distancing. Everybody’s significant other was there, save for the single guys like Auston and (to everyone else) William. As she stood off to the side, she couldn’t help but watch.

Bee McTavish was crying. She wasn’t wailing loudly or anything like that, but Aberdeen could see her glistening cheeks from her tears as Morgan couldn’t stop kissing her and she couldn’t stop wiping her eyes. He looked pretty torn up about leaving her, too. She knew all the guys would be. They were excited to play hockey again but they weren’t too sold on the concept of the bubble. Everyone was going to hate being away from their families – Bee and Morgan were no exception. “Call me whenever you want to,” Aberdeen overheard her tell him. “And if a single thing starts to hurt you please don’t play. You need to be healthy, Morgan.”

Frederik Andersen and Aleida Casillas couldn’t stop kissing, either. Aleida was getting emotional, although Aberdeen knew that Aleida didn’t want to show it. Fred’s new wedding ring glistened in the light. Aberdeen could only imagine what it was like to leave your wife on your one-month anniversary.

Jace was giggling at his dad’s kisses. John had spent the last five minutes holding and kissing his baby boy, with Aryne smiling and cuddling them too. Aberdeen could see Aryne’s small bump peeking out through her t-shirt and realized John was going into the bubble while his wife was pregnant and having to take care of a one-year-old. Her heart ached. She saw the smile on John’s face as he cooed at his son and Jace kept repeating “Dada” over and over again and she could feel a rush of emotion flood her face.

When she saw that Jason had his four girls in a giant bear hug, Aberdeen had to hold in a giant sob. He was crouching down at their level, kissing them all multiple times and whispering things to them as Jen looked on, looking like she was on the verge of tears herself. Jason wouldn’t let them go – couldn’t let them go. Aberdeen had to look away so she didn’t start crying right then and there. It was too much for her to think about.

“You okay, Aberdeen?” Auston’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she whipped her head towards him.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying not to think about the scenes she just saw. “Do you need me to pack your bag in the bus?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna make you pack my bag, Aberdeen,” he said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Aberdeen looked at Auston, but could only see right past him. Behind him, she could see Kappy and Saylor saying their goodbyes. Saylor was hugging Kappy but giving Aberdeen a death stare. Aberdeen focused her attention back on Auston. “How much does Saylor hate me?” she asked.

Auston shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t talk to her anymore. But from what I hear, a lot.”

“Good to know. What have you heard? Because she thinks I want to sleep with Kappy.”

Auston smiled. “Something like that.” Aberdeen rolled her eyes playfully, smiling back at Auston. “For what it’s worth, she thinks everybody wants to sleep with Kappy,” Auston said. “You know, because he’s just so good looking.”

“You ready for the bubble?” Saylor’s voice suddenly surprised them from behind Auston. Because of their conversation, they hadn’t seen her approach. Auston jumped slightly. He noticed that Saylor was staring directly at Aberdeen.

“As ready as we can be, I think,” Aberdeen said.

“Just remember what I told you!” Saylor said in a playful tone. “Stay six feet away from my boyfriend!”

“Just for you, Saylor, I’ll make it ten,” Aberdeen winked. “I’ll put a pole between us if that’d what you prefer.”

***

There were cameras everywhere covering their arrival. Naturally, of course, since they were the Toronto Maple Leafs. Aberdeen only hoped that she wasn’t caught in any of the photos. She’d already had enough of a time with her identity and stalkers showing up outside her apartment. She didn’t need people to be lingering outside of the bubble gates for her as well.

They checked in. Everything was eerie. They could only go up the elevators two at a time with their suitcases after they got their welcome packages and key cards. Aberdeen was situated at the first room to the right side of the elevators. The equipment staff, trainers, doctor, and coaches were in the wing as well. Kyle and Brendan had their rooms opposite each other at the very end of the hallway. The social media person was across from her. A few more of the equipment guys were on “her” side of the hallway. To the left of the elevators were the team rooms. William was the second room in, in the middle between Auston and Mitch. Jason was in the middle of the hallway. She knew these things because – as the executive assistant to perhaps the most important executive there – she got a copy of the room allocations and floorplan.

When she walked into her room, it was set up like any normal, swanky hotel room. There was a queen-sized bed and a big, beautiful window that looked directly out onto the CN Tower. The bathroom was big and immaculate. Things were practically shining. She hauled her suitcase onto the bed before going to the window to push the curtains open. If she was going to have a view of the city, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

When she walked back to her bed, something on the nightstand caught her eye, and she walked over to it. Once she realized what they were, her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know who was responsible for this. But it made her so emotional. There were three frames with pictures in them, each more sentimental than the last. In the first frame, there was a mashup of two pictures: one of she and Siena when Siena attended the game in Ottawa, and one of she and Camden when Camden visited right before lockdown. The second picture was the group shot of the outdoor practice, where she was freezing her butt off but having the time of her life. The third, and perhaps the one that hit her the most, was a picture from the Night With the Blue and White. In it, she was posing for a picture with Brendan, Jason, and William, with a champagne flute in her hand. Her smile took up half her face.

She let out a sob.

It wasn’t that she looked so happy. It wasn’t that she could still remember the way William smelled that night. It wasn’t how less than ten hours after the picture was taken, she and William had sex and admitted they wanted to be in a secret relationship. It wasn’t that they had followed through with that promise now for months. It was that the picture depicted normalcy. Her job. Brendan. Jason. William. It depicted life before masks, before social distancing, before hand sanitizer being more readily available than water, before lining up outside of grocery stores. It depicted a life that seemed so far in the past. Giant gathering. Group photos. Seeing someone teeth when they smiled. Putting your arms around another person for a hug.

Now, she found herself alone in a hotel room, within an artificially created bubble, for a hockey team, with no physical contact with the outside world. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing.

***

William decided to call Aberdeen. Everybody was holed up in their rooms unpacking everything they bought, and the hotel was eerily quiet for so many people staying in it. He figured it was because the hotel was old, and its walls were solid – none of this new construction, shitty craftsmanship. These building was built by fucking donkeys, as evidence by the photographs in the lobby. Donkeys and stone; so these walls were thick. Some of the boys had checked up on him to make sure his PlayStation set up had gone smoothly. It did. But William could care less.

“Hello?” Aberdeen answered her phone.

He could immediately tell she’d been crying. “What’s wrong, minskatt?”

“These damn pictures they put up in my room,” she admitted immediately – no need to beat around the bush. “They framed the one we took with Jason and Brendan during the Night With the Blue and White.”

William understood completely how and why that would affect her. “Yeah, I get it. They put a bunch of pictures of my family. Well, my parents and my sisters.”

“No Alex?”

“He’s too ugly to be in a picture,” William deadpanned. He heard Aberdeen snort slightly on the other end. He found solace in the fact that he was able to make her laugh. “The pictures really got to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t just that,” she said. “Just seeing all the families say goodbye to each other. I watched John say goodbye to Jace and it made me emotional, but then I saw Jason saying goodbye to his girls and I absolutely lost it,” she revealed. “I kept it together for the bus ride but the second I got in here and saw these pictures, it was, like, a tidal wave.”

“How can I make it better?” William asked. He knew this would be hard on her – being in the bubble – and although he cautioned against it, Aberdeen made her own decision at the end of the day, and he respected that. It didn’t mean the bubble experience would be any better for her, but at least she made the decision herself and she came into it knowing what she was getting herself into. Aberdeen wasn’t a stupid girl. Far from it.

“You wanna just stay on the phone with me? So I can hear your voice?” she asked timidly.

“Of course,” he answered, equally as softly. She could practically see and feel his smile through the phone. “Want to practice your Swedish with me, minskatt?”

***

July 27th, 2020

“A girl?!”

Aberdeen’s ears turned red as she heard the gasp from behind her near the conference room where the Leafs were designated to eat all their meals. She was apparently a novelty. Because they had to stay holed up in their hotel rooms for most of the day, unless it was a pre-planned excursion or meal, she hadn’t seen any other women. It was awful. And now this.

She looked behind her as discreetly as she could. She saw two men – boys – wearing New York Islanders t-shirts staring at her. She recognized them immediately as Mat Barzal and Anthony Beauvillier. She glared at them.

“Is she here delivering the food?”

“She has a badge, you idiot.”

“You’re telling me she works for the team and they brought her into the bubble?”

She wanted to scream at them. But she didn’t have to. Kyle Dubas appeared out of nowhere right beside her, clutching a coffee and a banana. “Miss Bloom,” he greeted her formally, and loud enough so Mat and Anthony could hear. “Shanahan is going to need those CORSI stats for Matthews and Tavares after we eat.” He glanced at them quickly. “Boys,” he nodded a greeting.

They scurried away.

Aberdeen looked at Kyle. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Does Shanny really need those CORSI stats?” she asked.

“No,” Kyle shook his head. “I said that so they wouldn’t fuck with you.”

***

July 28th, 2020

Aberdeen was waiting for the exhibition game to start. Yet again, she was experiencing her second exhibition game for a hockey team she never thought she would work for, let alone for this long. She was in their usual box with Kyle and Brendan, but it felt different. No fans. No other personnel. The only other people around were the extra players sitting in the seats below them. The media was around somewhere, but nowhere near her. The boys were warming up on the ice.

“You okay?” Brendan asked as he looked at her.

Aberdeen nodded. “Are you?”

“As okay as I can be,” he shrugged. “I don’t get nervous about exhibition games.”

“Did you think I’d be here long enough for two sets of exhibition games?” Aberdeen asked, wiggling her eyebrows slightly.

He huffed, giving her a joking look. She began giggling. “To be honest…no.”

“Yeah, me neither. Don’t worry.”

***

Thirty-three seconds into the first period, Ilya Mikheyev scored off a pass from John Tavares that Aberdeen had seen one hundred times in training camp. She smiled wide.

Hockey was back.

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years

Photo

U N P L A N N E D, part six

When you came home late from work on Tuesday afternoon, the last thing you expected to find was Harry sitting on your front step. It seemed unsafe, really. Jeff and Dave would kill him if they found out that he was just waiting, in broad daylight, by the front door of the stranger he’d knocked up.

It was a quiet enough neighborhood. Young families and professionals lined the block and occasionally would get together for a barbeque or a summer celebration. But that didn’t mean they weren’t nosey.

“Hi, sorry to just show up,” he stood when you got to the end of the walkway, fishing for your keys in your bag when he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I uh--Dave called, the results are in.”

You froze at that, a wave of heat brought beads of sweat to your forehead. You tried to swallow the anxiety--why should you be nervous? There was no other option.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah--s’me, obviously. He said the test was conclusive and I am definitely the father.” He let out an awkward laugh, lifted his hand to scratch the back of his neck.

You sighed, nodding for a second. You wondered if he was mad--if his heart sank when he heard it or if he suddenly wanted to disappear, flee the country and write you a fat check to leave him be.

“I knew you were telling the truth, but--it’s good. Now we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Or maybe not.

“Yeah,” you plucked the house key from your ring, stepped around him to unlock the door. “That’s good. We can just move forward now.”

He nodded, stepped in behind you. He let the door swing shut, a cool reprieve from the June heat.

“Was Dave mad?”

“No--he didn’t call you?”

“I haven’t checked,” you put your work bag down on the floor. Your phone was buried inside, you’d opted for the radio on the way home, a welcome distraction from an anxiety provoking email from Levi at the end of the day.

Let’s have lunch tomorrow. Want to catch you up on a few things and touch base!

“He just said we should think about some logistics.” He leaned on the counter, watched as you thumbed through some mail Lexi had left out. She often got home before you from work--the sound of the shower from behind the bathroom door was a give away.

“Logistics?”

“Yeah--some more custody stuff, more financial agreements. Living situation.”

No good mail. You tossed most of it in the garbage, let the electricity bill flutter back down to the counter. “Living situation? What about it?”

“I mean--if I’m on the road, would you come with me? How do we work out custody when I’m out of the States, that kind of thing.”

You were almost nine weeks pregnant. The conversation felt more like a topic for nine months. He could tell he’d ignited a nervousness in you, licked his lips awkwardly. You shook your head and tried to put together words. “I don’t know how we figure that out--I mean, that’s so far away and we might change our minds about how to do things once, you know, we’re actually parents.”

“Right, no, I know. Just some stuff to think about, but, it’s fine. I was just in the neighborhood and figured you’d be getting home soon. Do you want to get dinner or something?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“It is.”

“I have take out with Glenne and Lexi every Tuesday. Unless one of us fucks something up and has to stay late at work. Which I did--but, Glenne will probably be here soon.”

He laughed at that, nodded before he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Got it. I should go, then.”

His words felt urgent--was Glenne not supposed to know he was here? Were you supposed to be keeping more things a secret than just the impending life changer growing inside of you?

For a second, you wanted him to stay. Sit on the couch and listen to you complain about Carson or Levi’s possible departure from Facebook. You’d kill to have a glass of wine and ask him all about the anxiety he felt. Ask him what it’s been like to deal with a team of professionals who devoted their entire lives to keeping your image clean, just to fuck it up after a few too many drinks.

The doorbell rang, though, only three seconds after the water shut off. You rounded the counter to open it, he raised his eyebrows and offered Glenne a toothy grin when she stepped inside, sunglasses nearly falling off her face as she balanced the two pizzas with a six pack of beer on top.

“Here,” you said, reaching to lighten her load. Harry stepped out of the way and she let the pizzas slide onto the counter.

“Jesus--traffic was fucking terrible and I’m pretty sure I found three gray hairs today.”

“Well, nice to see you too, Glenney,” Harry teased, heading for the door. “I”ll catch you all later.”

He disappeared out into the front yard but waved before the door shut behind him. Glenne let out a long breath, wiped her hands on her pants before she smiked. “How’s that going?”

You let your eyelids flutter in annoyance. “It’s not going--it’s just, I don’t know. Making the best of it.”

“I heard Dave called with the results, though,” she freed a can of beer from the plastic rings and popped it open, she was never one to hesitate. “That’s good, must be a load off to know they can’t fight anything now.”

“Yeah,” you said. You went to fetch a few plates above the sink. “That’s why he came over, I guess.”

“Jeff was relieved, to be honest. He texted me earlier about it. He meant it the other day when he said he believed you. But, it’s good, now we’re all on the same page and everyone can just kind of settle in.”

“What are we settling in for?” Lexi’s towel-wrapped head poked out from the bathroom, steam floated towards the ceiling.

Glenne smiled at the sight of her friend, an amused look on her face when Lexi tightened the towel around her chest. “Y/N having Harry’s baby.”

“It’s my baby, too,” you reminded them, opening the lid of one of the pizza boxes and looking inside. “You’re both assholes about that, honestly. Just because he’s famous we get to call it his all the time?”

“The results are in,” Glenne informed Lexi, breezing past your negative review of their language use. “Drumroll, please.”

Lexi tapped her hands on the door frame, letting out a snort of a laugh when her towel almost came loose.

“Harry’s the father,” Glenne shouted, gaining composure when she cleared her throat. “No surprise there, little miss dry spell over here.”

You gave her the finger when you pulled a piece of pizza onto your own plate.

“You really think they both believed me before the results?”

Glenne grabbed a plate and held it up for you to give her a slice. “Harry and Jeff?”

Lexi disappeared into her bedroom for a second, came back out with a t-shirt and shorts in hand as she tried to dress in the living room without giving any sort of a show.

“Jeff was nervous. He just wanted a definitive either way.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Harry never questioned it, from what I can tell.”

You weren’t sure why your stomach flipped at that. The veggie topped pizza was more appetizing now than it was when Lexi texted her order to Glenne earlier than afternoon. “Not at all?”

“You don’t really give off the pathological liar vibes,” she teased, heading for the couch. “You know, this might be hard for you to believe, but--I don’t actually think he’s as much of a sex god as you think.”

“I don’t think he’s a sex god,” you pulled a face. You didn’t dare tell either of them about how many times you thought about that night. And you definitely didn’t tell them that it was the best sex you ever had.

His lips pressed again the side of your shoulder, the duvet cool against the skin of your back. You turned your head to look at him.

“You’re quite beautiful,” he mumbled.

“Do you say that to every girl you bring up here?”

He laughed a little, eyelashes fluttered against his cheek. “Some of them.”

“You clearly think he’s had sex with everyone in Los Angeles.”

“Not everyone,” you defended. “Just most women.”

“Well he hasn’t. I think he’s only had sex with like, six or seven girls total.”

“Ever?” You asked.

“Yes!”

“How is that possible?” Lexi asked, her eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know--he’s always been pretty tame. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s dated casually and whatever, but, I don’t know. I don’t think he’s slept with anyone for a while either. At least not this year.”

Lexi pulled the shirt over her head and over the towel altogether. She shimmied the navy blue fabric off once she was covered. “Does Jeff know every detail of his life?”

“Probably more than he should.”

You settled onto the couch beside Glenne, picked all the olives off your pizza. “What has he said about me getting pregnant to you?”

“Harry? Or Jeff?”

“Both.”

“Harry,” Lexi corrected. “She means Harry.” You rolled your eyes.

Glenne took a bite, looked up towards the ceiling before she wiped her mouth. “He was freaked at first--I know that. After we had dinner that night he talked to Jeff like twice a day for a good week. I know he was worried about telling his family.”

“Right.”

“But he’s been okay, actually. Jeff was more freaked out, I think, especially at first. But--Harry’s…” she trailed off, she looked over at Lexi and then brought her eyes back to you.

“What?”

“I’m kind of surprised how much he’s made his peace with it.”

You sat with that for a second. You’d always sensed that from him, even in the beginning. A strange way of calmness about him when everything else seemed to be crashing down around you. That night on Glenne’s driveway, the stars overhead and the way he sat on the grass beside you. Still.

“Me too.” Quiet for a second. Lexi was now in the kitchen, surveying each pizza to choose the piece she wanted before she grabbed a beer and came to sit on the floor in front of you. “Am I not supposed to hang out with him?”

Glenne held her beer can in hand, she lifted her gaze to you. “Harry? No--not that I know of. Did they say something about that in the meeting or something?

You shook your head. “No--I don’t know--I just feel like Jeff doesn’t want Harry to be on my side.”

“Fuck Jeff,” Lexi laughed, biting into the slice on her plate.

Glenne ignored Lexi’s comment, took a sip and thought about it. “No. He just wants everything to work out. He doesn’t want anything to--” she trailed off again.

“What?”

She dropped your gaze for a second, as if she was contemplating saying something she knew she shouldn’t. “Look,” she sighed. “I think Jeff’s biggest worry is that it could get messy, you know?”

“How?”

“I don’t know, I guess if either one of you develops feelings, or something. I just think Jeff wants everything to be thought out and planned and executed accordingly,” she laughed at her own words.

“Bitch you sound just like him,” Lexi laughed.

“Bitch I don’t care,” Glenne made a face before she giggled.

Planned. Of course Jeff wanted it to be planned. You wanted everything to be planned too. You wanted everything to have a sequence, a logical order and a contingency plan, just in case.

“That’s not going to happen, though. The feelings shit.” You took another bite of pizza, as if chewing would hinder them from asking any more questions.

Glenne smiled knowingly. “I mean--yeah, it might not. But--he’s also--”

“Cute, talented, famous,” Lexi counted off, raising her eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“You guys--you’re acting as if I have no self control.”

“You’re pregnant with his child,” Lexi retorted. “How on earth do you get pregnant with someone’s baby and start hanging out and having dinner and not have any feelings for them--especially when it’s someone like him!”

“When you’re an independent adult who has her own life.”

She gave up. She rolled her eyes and opened her beer and let Glenne take over. “You wouldn’t be the first person, Y/N. It’s just not as simple with him, you know? A lot more at stake.”

“I get it!” You said, voice a bit more distressed now. “I know what you’re saying, you don’t have to worry.”

“How often are you seeing him, anyway? One of you said something last week at brunch about it--but, I wasn’t about to put you on trial in public.”

“How thoughtful,” Lexi ragged.

You waited. You looked around the room. The clock on the wall ticked, Glenne took a sip of beer. You looked down at Lexi, knowing that she’d never let you lie your way out of this one. “I don’t know. I’ve seen him a few times.”

Her ear met her shoulder, a hesitant smile. “Aside from the meetings and stuff?”

You nodded. Took another bite, buying yourself time.

“And the doctors appointments?”

“We had dinner that one time at his house--that’s what he was referring to the other day.”

Now it was her turn to nod. She wanted you to say more.

“But we had dinner two other times. Casual--literally In N’ Out. But--I don’t know. He keeps saying he wants to get to know me.”

Lexi’s eyes went wide. You hadn’t divulged that yet. The two of them exchanged a look, sent some sort of telepathic message.

“What?” You asked. “I think that’s fair--right? I’m literally having his baby.”

“I thought it was yours?” Lexi joked.

You shot her a look. “Oh for fuck’s sake, you know what I mean.”

“I think it’s totally normal that he wants to get to know you,” Glenne supported.

You sighed, took another bite and wished you could down the entire can of beer that Glenne left on the coffee table.

“He’s always been saying that about you.”

Lexi’s eyes got wide again.

“What? What do you mean?”

Glenne laughed. “I don’t know--I think he kind of had a crush on you before all this started.”

You pulled your head back in surprise, looked down to meet Lexi’s gaze. She was equally shocked. “What on earth makes you think that?”

“He’s always kind of asked about you. Back in the fall he asked, then he asked again after you two hooked up. He’s been intrigued.”

“I mean, clearly,” Lexi snickered. “He put a bun in her oven.”

“Whatever. Any type of intrigue or whatever is definitely different now,” you told them.

“I think you should go for it,” Lexi shrugged. “Worst case scenario you blame it on the hormones and he still has to deal with you for another eighteen years.”

You brushed her suggestion off. It was unrealistic. You changed the subject and successfully got them to forget about the impending chaos that would ensue if the butterflies in your stomach became uncaged or set free.

So you watched the two of them get drunk off of cheap beer--eventually option for celebratory shots in your honor, they said. You let Lexi eat all of your olives and you showed them the app you’d been using to track it. In only a few days, the baby had graduated from a pea to a cherry. They grow up so fast, you faked a few tears before bed.

Glenne slept on the couch and was gone when you woke up in the morning. She left a note on the counter. Love you and your little cherry!

At the end of the ninth week, you got the news that Levi was officially headed for Apple. Simone and Aarav insisted on a celebratory margarita even though you hadn’t been offered a promotion (yet), but you somehow managed to convince them you’d appreciate a celebratory milkshake instead. You threw it up entirely once you got home--the nausea was getting much worse.

But on the tenth week you rounded a corner. You woke up one morning excited for coffee. It was rare now, really, that you woke up hungry or even in the mood for a cup of coffee before you got to work.

And everything was fine. The smell of it was fine, the look of it was fine. You took a sip and swore that something was off. Then you took a bite of the buttered toast and that was off, too.

Another bite. Another sip. Something was definitely wrong.

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, wondering if you’d truly gone crazy. You stuck your tongue out, moved it side to side to take a look. Nothing.

The phone rang twice before he answered. “Hi,” he said, voice groggy and low.

“Everything tastes like pennies.”

“What?” He cleared his throat, you could hear the sheets ruffling beneath him. “Why? What do you mean?”

“I mean everything tastes like pennies.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything,” you looked at your watch. 8:21am. He was definitely out cold, and now, instead, he was dealing with what may or may not be a pregnancy induced delusion. “Sorry--I know it’s early. I just don’t have anyone else to panic with.”

“Where’s Lexi? Are you home alone?”

“She’s on set already. She’s sick of hearing me complain about symptoms anyway. And I guess,” you let the real reason slip out, “I haven’t talked to you in a few days.”

He laughed a little. A quiet one, an early morning, half-asleep laugh. You wondered what he looked like when he first woke up. You shook your head--what a stupid thought.

“I know, love--you’re the one who’s been too busy to see me. What are you doing after work tonight?”

“I dunno, probably googling what the fuck is wrong with me.”

“Don’t think anything’s wrong with you. I can call Dr. Weston, though, if you want.”

“No,” you said. You refused to let him do anything boyfriendy, that felt too weird. “It’s fine. I’ll just google it.”

But you didn’t have the chance. By the time you hung up and got yourself put together enough to head for the office, a link came across your phone, a message from Harry.

Harry (8:31am): Link: Metallic Taste in Mouth during Pregnancy (Dysgeusia) - whattoexpect.com

You smiled at the text. A flush on your cheeks and a somersault in your belly. Not the kind reserved for a friendly interaction or a nice message from a coworker. No--this was the type of stupid cheesy grinning that you did at the computer screen when you were thirteen and instant messaging boys far past your bedtime.

You clicked your phone shut and got settled at work. But he was definitely hard to ignore.

Harry (9:04am): Just read more about it. They say it happens in the first trimester so that’s probably what it is, right?

Harry (9:05am): I mean, you didn’t bite your tongue, right? It’s not blood? Does it taste like blood at all? This other article is saying some people taste blood.

Y/N L/N (9:07am): Yeah it’s like metal. That’s probably it! If it doesn’t go away I’ll call Dr. Weston.

Harry (9:08am): Okay, let me know. Do you want to come to mine for dinner tonight?

You stared at the message. Glenne’s words echoed in your head. Maybe you shouldn’t have even called him this morning. Maybe you were overreacting about not hearing from him and maybe you were losing it altogether.

But it had been four days. He’d texted you the day after you saw him, after Glenne and Lexi had lectured you about everything under the sun. He asked how work was and you filled him in over text about your coffee with Levi. You still had almost six weeks before Levi left Facebook altogether, still no mention of if you were going to get the promotion or not.

So maybe it was that. Maybe you were just stressed about work and the nausea was getting to your head. Maybe that was why you said yes.

And the fact that he was excited to see you only made it worse. He had music playing and dinner already cooking when you walked through the door that evening. He’d already texted you to tell you the code for the gate, just come on in, he said. I’ll be here.

He had a dish towel over his shoulder, a smile on his face as you sat and watched him cook. He promised this meal would be better, a new one he’d just seen online and wanted to give it a go.

Aren’t you too busy to learn new recipes? You teased. Musician, actor, and chef?

When it was almost ready, though, he paused. “Can I actually show you something?”

You sipped at the water he’d handed you, watched as he put the spatula down and headed for the living room. “I’m not a fan of surprises, to be honest.”

“Noted,” he said--but he didn’t really seem to be listening. Instead, he reached for something on the coffee table. Fabric, of some sort.

He brought it back over and put it down in front of you. It was white, tiny yellow ducks in a row. It was rolled up, but when you pulled the string and flattened it out, he spoke. “S’a onesie. I saw it out at some store--not a big deal. Just thought it was cute.”

There weren’t tears this time, which would have been almost expected. Instead, a warmth in your belly and a fire beneath your ribs. You smiled up at him. “It’s adorable.”

“Figured she’ll look good in it.”

“Or he--yellow,” you laughed. “Very gender neutral of you.”

One day there’d be a baby inside of it. Ten fingers, ten toes, eyes and a nose and a mouth that cried for both of you. He avoided your gaze for a second, you folded the onesie back up and let out a breath when he went back to the stove. “Are you scared at all?”

He laughed a little, bit on his lip and smiled as he stirred the contents of the dish. “Terrified.”

“Really? You’ve been so--calm, this whole time.”

He shrugged, turned the burner on low and rested his elbows on the counter. “I think I didn’t want to freak you out. I could tell from the start that you were losing it, really. Going quite mental,” he laughed. “I just wanted to be there for you.”

“Well...I appreciate it,” you said. “I’ve needed that.”

He nodded, the sun was setting behind you, casting a glow to the living room. He didn't say anything when he walked around the counter and let his arms drape over your shoulders, pulling your face into his chest. He didn’t say anything when he kissed the top of your head and then let go, an electric current coursing through your limbs.

“She’s a cherry now.”

He went back to the stove and nodded. “I know,” he said. “I got the same app.”

More butterflies at that. He was paying attention? He cared? He was also tracking the growth of your little fruit on an app with pictures and daily notifications?

You bit at your lip. “Soon she’ll be a pear.”

“One day she’ll be a cantaloupe.”

You faked a look of fear. “That’ll be tough.”

“I think you’ll be alright.” Quiet for a second, then he corrected himself. “We’ll be alright.”

Lexi begged you to come. She’d been telling you about it for a good two weeks leading up, but it didn’t make you want to go any more.

Glenne loved you, you knew that. It wasn’t a question of if she wanted you there or not, or if Lexi wanted you there. It was more a question of if Jeff wanted you around and if Harry wanted you around and you didn’t feel like finding out, especially not when the size of your belly had slowly increased, but not enough to make you look anything other than bloated.

So a bathing suit was a no go. There were too many people who didn’t even know about this. Jeff’s friend Zack and his girlfriend Mira. Glenne’s younger sister Heidi and her favorite coworker Nicki.

So you’d planned to spend the Fourth of July alone on your couch with some ice pops. You were more than happy to watch the fireworks on TV and get an early night of sleep, only interrupted by a drunk Lexi stumbling in at 2am.

But apparently, Harry wouldn’t have it that way.

“I’m freezing,” you said, reaching forward to push the vent away from you, he took a left turn into Jeff and Glenne’s neighborhood.

“You were hot three seconds ago,” he said with a smirk, turning the knob to lessen air in the car.

“I’m pregnant,” you said, turning to look at him quickly. “And it’s your fault,” you joked.

“You know, for someone who said she wouldn’t hold that against me, you’ve done a lot of holding that against me.”

You tried to fight the smile but couldn’t. He’d shown up unannounced. At first he said he just wanted ice cream. There’s nowhere good near my house. All the good places are near yours.

But when he told you to pack a bathing suit and a change of clothes, you figured a dingy Dairy Queen down the street wasn’t the actual destination. You already told him why you didn’t want to go when he invited you a week ago.

I won’t really know anyone there. I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you. Jeff seems annoyed by my existence and I don’t feel like pissing him off more than I already have.

He swore you were wrong. He promised that Jeff wasn’t mad and that you’d know plenty of people and he swore that no one there would even notice if you spent the entire night glued to his side. He made it sound like that was an option and you tried not to blush.

And that made you remember it again: his world was different than yours. Of course Glenne and Jeff were friends with people who weren’t star struck by celebrities. Glenne’s beautiful friends from work and her gorgeous younger sister were probably grabbing coffee with guys like Zac Efron on the reg.

But that didn’t stop the nerves from going haywire inside of you when Harry led you around the back. Lexi was already there, red solo cup tilted towards the sky when you both walked up behind her.

“Look who decided to come out,” she teased, letting an arm drape over your shoulders. “Love you, mean it!”

You laughed, thankful for the sunglasses that let you scan the crowd. Jeff’s brother, check. You met him last year. Another guy from Jeff’s office, check, he definitely looked familiar. Glenne’s sister, her coworker, another girl that Lexi had definitely introduced you to at some point. So far, so good.

Glenne appeared behind you, already tipsy and in a crop top. “Hi lovie,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around you. “How ya doin’?”

“Good,” you said, thankful for a second away from Harry. He was already distracted, he offered a handshake to a guy who you swore was at that dinner last fall. “Hoping he forgets all about the bet today, to be honest.”

“Oh shit,” Lexi said, nodding. “I totally fucking forgot. He’s gonna get wasted, no doubt.”

You laughed a little, ignoring the jealousy that washed through you. You weren’t a huge drinker, a rosé or bubbly type of girl, if anything. Tequila was nice and vodka had it’s moments. But at this point, you’d kill for a sip of a cold mixed drink. Hell, at this point, you might even take a tiny hit of Lexi’s miracle weed--her words, not yours.

With the stress of work and Harry and life in general, you felt desperate. So a Fourth of July party seemed like the perfect place to remember why people use protection.

Glenne lowered her voice, let her elbow knock into your side when she looked over at Harry. “Pretty scandalous to show up here together, no?”

“What? Why?” You tried to downplay it. “I didn’t even want to come, which I made very clear to all of you.”

“Hey, things are going well in paradise, okay? Leave the girl alone,” Lexi told her.

“No one is in Paradise. We’re in Laurel Canyon.”

“Sure,” Glenne smirked.

“Alright--not hanging out with you two,” you offered a sarcastic grin and walked away, sidling right up to Harry when he turned to see you.

“Matt, this is,” a pause, a look on his face like he didn’t know what to call you. “My friend--Y/N, this is Matt, he used to work with Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you,” you stuck a hand out, offered him a smile when he lifted his sunglasses to let you get a good look at his face.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said, a hawaiian shirt was unbuttoned down the middle of his chest.

“No, probably not,” you said over the music. “I don’t come around here much.”

“Y/N--do you want to go get a drink inside?”

You looked over to Harry, a bit surprised by his sudden desire. He forced a smile down at you, his eyes hoping to communicate something--but you couldn’t tell what. You followed him inside after offering an apologetic smile and a see you later, to Matt.

He tugged you towards the kitchen once you stepped through the sliding doors to the interior of the house.

“Let’s not like--y’know--pick up guys here.”

“What?”

“S’just awkward, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He was into you!”

“He was?” You looked over his shoulder, watched as Matt laughed at something Glenne said to Heidi. “How do you know?” You were flattered--after waking up and feeling like your stomach had puffed out a bit too far, it was nice to know that you still had some type of sex appeal.

Being pregnant didn’t feel sexy so far.

“How do I know? He was obvious!”

“Are you jealous?” The words fell out of your mouth innocently, curiously. A wave of embarrassment at first. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

His eyebrows furrowed together, he pulled his chin away from you, rolled his eyes. “No, I just--I don’t know. That’d be weird.”

“All of this is weird,” you reminded.

“Yeah, well, we don’t have to add to it.”

You ignored the way he turned around, looked at Matt again and then turned back to you. “I’m gonna get--nevermind.”

“Get what?”

“Nothing.”

You smirked. “A drink?”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

“I was gonna say that but I forgot. It’s fine.” He walked over to the counter, ignored all of the bottles of liquor and reached for a solo cup.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He shoved it under the tap and turned on the faucet. “It’s like Sober September, but--for longer.”

“Is that a thing?”

He shrugged, took a sip. “I think so.” Quiet for a second, you scanned the room again for anyone you knew.

“Does weed count?”

“Yes it counts,” you looked at him like he was crazy. Anything I can’t you can’t do either. Drugs, drinks, that’s the same thing.”

He sighed, bit at his lower lip before his mouth curved into a smile. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You didn’t want to tell him, but you knew you were.

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: you have no idea how hard it is to give you this chapter and NOT chapter seven yet. Big things are coming, folks. Come chat it up with me cause *disclaimer* i’m gonna have some wine tonight so it’ll be a good time.

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slowdownatthelotusinn · 4 years

Text

Dream In Color (Part Three): Surprise!

Summary: It's been almost an entire week without any activity from Y/N. Though Daniel and Y/N keep in touch when they can, it's not enough to permanently raise her spirits.. Luckily, her mother and brother have the perfect solution.

Word Count: 1136

Warnings: s a d n e s s

Pairing: none yet, future Jonah Marais x Y/N

A/N: Ooh, she long, sis! I thought about splitting this one up into two parts, but decided not to. Hopefully you don't mind it being longer than the others.

In case there's any confusion in the timeline: this series spans the time from the release of 8 Letters in 2018, all the way to the recent January 15th release of The Good Times and The Bad Ones. Happy reading!

-Auri 💜

———

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

On Wednesday morning, Y/N wasn't feeling any better. She and Daniel kept in touch throughout the week, texting and calling when time allowed, but she missed him more and more. As time went on, she couldn't listen to the album without wanting to cry.

She was on the phone with her mom that morning, trying to explain what was wrong but even she didn't fully understand.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Mom. I just don't feel like doing anything anymore. Yesterday, I didn't even go into the dark room." Y/N picked at the fuzzy blanket across her lap as she waited for her mother's voice to fill the silence.

"Sweetheart, I think I know what this is about," Keri replied calmly. "The last year has been a whirlwind for both you and your brother. I know being apart hasn't been easy on either of you."

Y/N sighed and thought back over the last time she'd seen Daniel. It was two autumns prior; the time had come and gone so quickly with him flying out to Los Angeles at the request of Jack Avery, his future bandmate. If she'd known then that it would be the last time she saw her favorite person, she'd have captured more memories.

"I—" she faltered. She swallowed, forced herself to hold back the tears. "I'm so proud of him, Mom."

She could hear her mother's gentle smile through the phone. "I know you are, honey. And he does, too. Y/N/N, it's okay to miss him. Two years is a long time to go without seeing someone, especially your twin brother. It's okay to feel lonely and uncertain."

"But I don't want to feel this way, Mom! I don't want to feel lonely. I don't want to miss him. I don't want to feel like I'm losing my best friend!"

"Oh, sweetheart… Listen to me, just because you feel this way doesn't mean you aren't proud of him. Anyone with eyes can see that you are your brother's biggest fan. You aren't losing him, Y/N, your paths just aren't as connected as they used to be. And that's okay."

"It just hurts, Mama. It hurts so much."

"I know it does, sweetheart," Keri paused a moment. "Hey, Daniel's calling me back. Get some rest, I'll call you again in a little bit. I love you so much, my sweet girl. It'll be okay, I promise."

Sunday, September 9, 2018

Four days after her conversation with her mother, Y/N was slowly regaining her sense of self back. She'd kept her mother's encouragement close, reminding herself often that though they were forging their own paths, she and Daniel would still have each other's backs. She missed him more than she knew how to say, but the cloud of loneliness was beginning to lift.

She'd just gotten out of the shower when her phone went off with a text from her brother.

Buggy 🐜: Hey, if you're not busy, call me

She paused in the middle of her bedroom, towel wrapped around her body, and hair dripping wet. She typed a quick reply and headed for her closet.

I just got out of the shower. What's up?

Buggy 🐜: Just call me when u can, okay?

Why are u being so cryptic? I hate that 😒

Buggy 🐜: Do you, though? Do you really?

Y/N could almost hear the snort of laughter as if he were right in front of her. She forgot about getting dressed and sat down on the end of her bed. Any chance she got to talk to Daniel made her day ten times better. She decided getting dressed could wait, but she wouldn't give him what he wanted just yet.

Oh, my god. Daniel, just tell me what u want!

Buggy 🐜: What, a guy can't call his favorite twin sister just because?

First of all, I'm ur ONLY twin sister. There's two of us, that's literally the meaning of twins. TWO

And no, u can't. Because it's never JUST calling with u

Buggy 🐜: Ouch, Y/N/N. You wound me

It was Y/N's turn to laugh at her brother's reaction. She waited a few minutes before texting back.

Oh, do I? Do I wound u, Dani?

Buggy 🐜: Will you quit being such a brat and call me already?

No, because u won't tell me what u want

And I'm getting dressed, so

Buggy 🐜: Well, if you would CALL ME

Why can't u call me, hmm? 🤔

Buggy 🐜: Because I need you to call me

She thought on his response for a moment. The thing about the Seavey twins was that they were terrible at hiding things from each other. However, Daniel was doing a great job of not only keeping his secret airtight, but also annoying the shit out of his sister. Y/N considered calling, then decided against it. She wanted to see if she could either get him to spill or annoy him into calling her instead.

But why? And why now?

Buggy 🐜: I just do. Are you gonna call me or not?

And she had him! She could tell he was losing his patience and it excited her.

Nope. U call me or no deal

Buggy 🐜: Oh, my god. Fine. You're so annoying

Yes, but u loooooove me ❤️

Buggy 🐜: Yeah, whatever 💙

The twins talked for five hours.

Daniel's surprise for Y/N was a trip to see him and the boys in two weeks time. She was ecstatic! It had been their mother's idea, a gift to her babies to help ease the stress and bring them both some much needed comfort.

Nothing could wipe the smile from her face, knowing she would see her favorite person soon. She decided to check her social media. Going the whole week without updating was unusual for Y/N and she knew people would notice her absence.

After posting on Instagram about being able to see Daniel soon, she checked her Twitter. Sure enough, fans of hers and the band's certainly had taken note of her inactivity. One fan in particular had even sent her a message.

She giggled at the screen name: @danielseaveyswifey. At least he was getting some recognition.

Y/N talked with the fan for a little while, feeling even better that someone who knew who she was simply because of her brother, had taken the time out of their day to check up on her. She knew Daniel would appreciate it just as much as she did.

Before going to bed that night, she made sure her schedule remained clear from September 23rd until she knew when she would be back from LA. Life for Y/N Seavey was looking up!

———

Surprise social media post → HERE & HERE

#why dont we imagines #why dont we social media imagines #corbyn besson imagines #daniel seavey imagines #jonah marais imagines #zach herron imagines #jack avery imagines #dream in color

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

Text

May Death do Us Part (Benrey/Gordon Freeman)

A/N: ahaha im a bit nervous to post this one ngl but fuck it might as well give it a shot. if you haven’t seen hlvrai please do it’s so good and so fucking funny. Thank you @kryogie for helping me with this fic! I really appreciate it bro.

Warnings:angst,suicidal thoughts,suicide attempt,hurt/comfort,dissociation.

Benrey couldn’t die. Anyone else would be ecstatic to know that they could out run the hounds of death. Gordon’s apartment was dark that night. He’d mention earlier that morning picking up another shift, so he’d be home later. The silence was deafening as Benrey stared at the bright T.V. screen. His thoughts felt like he was dragging through quick sand and his brain lagged. “not pog. cringeworthy moments right here,” Benrey murmured to himself as a CPU beat his ass on Smash. Sonic, the one Benrey mains, looked glum as he clapped for Bowser. It was suffocating; the silence and the distant but also bright colours of the T.V. The switch hummed faintly but Benrey had trouble focusing on it.

He hated the quiet. Whenever it was quiet the guilt came rushing back. The memories of Black Mesa were fuzzy but Benrey couldn’t forget what he had done. His hand laid there on the cold cement ground as Gordon cried out in pain in the dark. His form being dragged by three soldiers as they left him to die. Benrey could faintly see the blood as Tommy started to cry.

“N-no! What are they d-doing to Mr. Freeman?”

Benrey choked on his breath; his chest felt tight and his throat contracted harshly. The whispers of the dark swirled around him and laid on his trembling form thickly. The T.V. that sat on its stand became blurry and Benrey felt as if he were sinking.

He couldn’t move. The soldiers around them paid him no mind. They laughed and carried on like nothing had happened. After all, Benrey’s job was done righ? This is what he had wanted?

“calm down,” Benrey told himself. “this..this is baby behaviour...we’re supposed to be..epic gamer....” Gordon had moved on from Black Mesa. Or so he told himself anyway. His arm was back, something Tommy’s dad had fixed. Even with his hand being back, Benrey could see the underlying anxiety Gordon had. He could see it in the way Gordon fidgeted and jumped at every loud noise. He couldn’t blame him at all. This was all his fault. He had always enjoyed making Gordon irritated. It was funny and entertaining but he had taken it too far.

Benrey knew he didn’t deserve Gordon’s kindness. He didn’t have to let Benrey in his apartment as the rain poured that night. Gordon was anxious and still held some malice towards him, but Benrey could see his big brown eyes soften with concern as he saw the blood seeping through his security shirt. Gordon was insistent on tending his wounds even though he knew Benrey couldn’t die. Something Benrey still couldn’t wrap his head around to this day.

How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? Benrey couldn’t tell but the thoughts were getting louder and louder as he sat there on the couch. He had to do something. His limbs didn’t feel like moving but he wiggled them as a test. They felt sluggish and heavy but Benrey eventually got a leg off the couch. He deserved this didn’t he? He deserved the pain and despair of the aftermath. It’s what he caused after all. So why was it so hard to move on?

“wasn’t suppos’ to be..like this,” Benrey mumbled one night as the both of them sat in front of the T.V. Some stupid rom com played. Pretty and Pink, was it? Gordon didn’t say anything but his brows furrowed. “What?” Benrey huffed. “can’t hear me feetman?..gordon freeman??more like.. gordon deafman haha...can’t even hear his bro talking to him..” Gordon rolled his eyes and sighed. “Can you ever talk seriously?” “yea...I tried but deafman couldn’t hear me....” Gordon just snorted, picking up the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. “Whatever man just watch the movie.” Benrey could see a small smile on Gordon’s plush lips. It made his heart flutter.

The balcony felt cold underneath Benrey’s feet. Gordon’s apartment was high enough that he’d smack on the concrete and die from the impact. Sure, he’d resurrect again, but it helped with the pain. All the emotions swirled around him and bit at his gut. It was an endless torture of not being able to be at peace. People saw the ability of never being able to die a blessing. Hell, they would kill for it. Benrey saw it as a curse. It was perfect for him and the thought made him laugh hollowly. It was raining again and the air nipped at his toes and fingers. The wind made his skin numb from the cold. He laughed at the clicheness of it all. Like some damn cheesy RPG game where the main character hit his low. The sky wept with Benrey’s misery.

Benrey’s fists clenched tightly on the balcony. The metal railing was cold to the touch and the water made it a bit slippery. The laughter wheezed out of his chest. Was he crying? His tears felt hot;His arms felt slackish and unbearably slow.”c-could end everything r-right now....little feetman wouldn’t have to...p-put up with me anymore...i’ll just respawn like a gamer and...keep d-doing it....” Maybe one day he’d disappear. Maybe he’d actually stay dead. Benrey cackled at the thought. It was wishful thinking, he knew it. Yet, he couldn’t help but think of the science team. What if he actually stayed dead? Tommy would cry and wail like a good friend. He cared about Benrey even after all the shit he put them through. Dr. Coomer might be a little sad but would be back in no time. Bubby..well Bubby was and always will be a wild card. Benrey’s heart lurched when he thought about Gordon. The science team never worried too much when Benrey died but this was different entirely. Benrey wanted to die. Would they even care? Gray orbs left his mouth as he remincised over what he had done. He had fucked up and couldn’t forgive himself. How could he when he had hurt the man he liked.

Gripping the railing for support, Benrey balanced himself onto it. Carefully, he stood up on it. His stomach lurched with anxiety as he looked down. Cars honked and people walked among the sidewalks blissfully unaware. Benrey couldn’t help but think about if his head smacked onto the pavement. How traumatized innocent bystanders would be and if they would tried to help. Was it wrong that he couldn’t find himself to care?

“Benrey!” He jumped in surprise, causing him to teeter on the railing. His arms waved and so did his fingers for balance. A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him onto the balcony floor. Benrey let out a hiss as his back made contact with its cement floor. He cursed once he realized who prevented him from jumping off the balcony and ending his misery for a short awhile. “W-what the fuck man?!” Gordon Freeman hovered over Benrey. His glasses were speckled from the rain and his hair that was pulled up was starting to get damp. His brown eyes were wide and..was he crying? The waves of guilt that were already washing Benrey away were now crashing to the surface. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He looked so afraid and hurt. Benrey averted his gaze. “L-let’s get you inside,” Gordon said, mostly to himself. He was trying to reassure himself, Benrey noticed, as he helped him up. Gordon’s hand wrapped tightly around his as he lead him back into his apartment. God, Benrey felt so damn guilty. He just wanted to die for a bit and be nothing. It only lasted for a couple hours before he came back but the seemingly never ending darkness called to him. It called for him to come home. Benrey could barely register a fluffly towel being wrapped around his quivering frame. His clothing clung to his skin in a gross way and he felt cold and warm at the same time. There were groceries and a pack of Moutain Dew on the kitchen isalnd. Benrey’s favorite.

Gordon ran a hand through his hair. A nervous tick he had which didn’t help Benrey’s guilt at all. “’m...s-sorry,” Benrey choked out. “weren’t suppose...to see that.” Gordon’s head shot up. His brown eyes wavered as he looked into Benrey’s seemingly cold black ones. “No man don’t a-apologize. I-If I had known...” Gordon trailed off. Benrey shook his head. “n-not just for that feetman...for everything..” His lip quivered and he dropped Gordon’s gaze. Finally, he had said what he’d been keeping in for so long. “Is that why you tried t-to..do that?” Gordon gestured to the balcony. Benrey nodded. Gordon let out a shaky sigh. “L-look man.. I’ve already forgiven you. I care about you and...I worry about you Benrey..I l-lo-” Benrey’s eyes widened. Gordon’s cheeks heated up and he swallowed thickly. “..wha?..” “U-um,” Gordon stuttered, eyes averting anything close to Benrey. “U-uh..fuck it man! I like you alright? I-I.. love you after all these months! I was gonna tell you but... I-I didn’t think you’d feel the same.. Now of all times isn’t g-good to tell you either.” Benrey stood there stunned.

Gordon swallowed nervously as he waited silently. Benrey’s silence and his stare didn’t help Gordon in the slightest. “L-look man if you don’t feel that way it’s fine. I’m more concerned about you though...I-I have a friend who’s a therapist! S-she’s great and she-” Gordon got caught off by soft lips against his own. His eyes widened but when Benrey clutched tightly into his shirt, he kissed back.

Gordon cracked a smile once they pulled away. “I-I don’t wanna pressure you into anything while in this state...so I-I understand if you don’t wanna g-get into anything-” Benrey cut Gordon off with another kiss. They were a bit cold and damp from standing in the rain. “y-you’re my gamer boyfriend now feetman..” Gordon barked a laugh as he pulled away. “I still want you to get help though okay? I want to help you through this.” Benrey nodded, “i-i’ll try bro....i’ll try.” Satisfied, Gordon beckoned to the couch. “Wanna play some video games or something?” Benrey nodded, already shuffling to the couch.

After Gordon put the groceries away and grabbed Benrey a can of Moutain Dew and his so called “gamer snacks”, he joined him on the couch. “Can I,” Gordon asked, hovering his arm over Benrey’s shoulders. He nodded and as soon as Gordon wrapped his arm around him, Benrey nestled into his side. They both smiled as they basked in each other’s presence and played Heavenly Sword. Tomorrow will be a better day.

#hlvrai #half life but the ai are self aware #gordon freeman #benrey #angst #fan fiction #fanfic #hurt/comfort

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madhyanas · 4 years

Note

I pronounce it as Yin hhahahah but also um 👉🏼👈🏼 are u going to share your poly fic with the class

i feel inordinately validated w getting an anon ask (also sorry this took so long wow i’m a hoe)

alright see anon i have a love for poly reader fics there’s a whole oberyn x reader x ellaria thing i want to talk about too asjdhgfsjhdgf

@pettyprocrastination and @concussed-to-pieces really beat the shit out of me with their writing. in a really good way like i adore their poly content. also @wickedlyemma is simultaneously the best and the worst because her tua fics are what got me in this hellhole to begin with mwah

but the one i mentioned on the post you’re talkin about is a diego x fem!reader x lila fic for the umbrella academy. man it lives in my mind rent FREE. holy fuck. ok listen right just humour me for a sec.

this is about 1k lmao it really got away from me

not really what you’d call Good Writing but it’s a blurb that’s vaguely coherent please enjoy

(spoilers for s2)

s2 is where the gang finally find out they’re not the only ones w abilities, right? like they don’t know about the whole ‘43′ but they have an inkling. so: an au where lila STAYS, and after all that shit w the commission, the family gets back to the present and the next hyperfixation is to try and find these other super-powered people. (none of that sparrow academy shit alright - ben’s still hangin around - let me have my self-indulgent au where these kids catch a fuckin break)

———

It’s been a few months. The family takes in Lila as one of their own, but it’s stilted. Like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong space, made to mesh and fit in an image it doesn’t belong to. Everyone’s got their own shit to deal with after the time jump and very little time to make the effort to trust her. Five doesn’t even bother, and Luther’s inclined to agree with him. But that’s okay. They’re like her, in that they’re not normal. They’re all so laughably not normal. It’s so funny she cries.

But she has Diego. Which is all Lila really cares about at the end of the day. They’re working through things. Things she put him through. Things he needs to let go. Things they need to talk about. Little by little, they make it work. No more secrets, not with each other. They love each other too much for all that pain, all over again.

But that’s family politics and emotional healing aight back to the romance. Listen ok maybe Five does his freaky investigation shit, maybe he digs up whatever records he can find of unnatural births on October 1st, 1989. Maybe he finds one of these unnatural kids and tracks em down to a flower store downtown - closer than any of them could’ve imagined, practically in the Hargreeves’ backyard. The owner is kind, pleasant. Boring, in Five’s words. You don’t seem anything out of the ordinary.

But even with a modest little greenhouse out back, you’re still in the middle of the city. With smoke, fumes, pollution. How are the leaves that healthy? How are the flowers that vibrant? How is it, that in your shop, no plant ever really seems to die? The flourishing life your shop fosters is beautiful, but uncanny.

And yeah, sick of being treated like a knife in the back waiting to happen, maybe Lila volunteers for recon. To get away for a while. Some part of her is desperate for a mark, itching to get back to what she’s good at. Especially since the last one went... awry.

Since they won’t trust her to go it solo, Diego gets dragged along as a handler supervisor. Perhaps because he’s the only one they think she won’t harm. Idiots. She’d never, not her boy. Not after the Kennedy clusterfuck. So Diego goes along, and to her surprise he’s actually looking forward to it. He knows the urge to stick to a lead like your life depends on it. He’s been that person before. God, he still is.

A honeymoon, she croons in his ear, and he snorts. His hand sliding into hers brings a grin to her lips and a warmth to her cheeks.

Out of all of them, Lila’s the least recognisable. She’s learnt how to blend in, how to appear innocuous. How not to appear at all. So she slides into the florist’s with ease, just another customer. And maybe the little gardener is cute. You smile at Lila like she couldn’t do anything wrong. You see her as a person, rather than a ticking time bomb. Your face falls meekly as Lila tells you she’s buying flowers for her boyfriend. You look so pretty when you’re flustered, scarcely breathing as Lila traces the smear of soil on your cheek, tucks that errant lock behind your ear. Oh, if only you knew.

Debriefing takes longer and longer as the days go on. Lila tells Diego with giddy excitement how you hum while watering the succulents, smile at the blooming buds like you’re proud of them. How you listen to Lila like she’s the only thing that matters and how your laugh sounds like the first break of spring. And Diego might take some convincing, but he can’t help but feel somewhat enamoured with the gardener. The idea of you, at least.

Falling for your mark. It’s so cliché.

Even so, Lila gets to know you. So does Diego, living vicariously through surreptitious surveillance and Lila’s own love-struck recounts.

Maybe they break protocol a little. Lila takes you out for coffee, learns your order. Learns that the care you attend to your plants with is applied to just about everything in your life. Including her. Maybe Diego begins to join you, discovering that all the hiding and sneaking around was pointless because the name ‘Diego’ doesn’t mean anything sinister to you. ‘Hargreeves’, though, they don’t mention. Not right now. You’re kind, not stupid, and if you do have the abilities they suspect, then any mention of the mythic family will send you running for the hills.

While Lila’s in the bathroom, Diego throws a light jab. Just to test the waters. Maybe you counter with something quick and cutting, raising a brow. And oh, how his heart flutters once he finds out you have thorns. Diego falls quicker than he realises, your sweet half-smile taking hold of his heart just like Lila’s sharp grin did, way back in ‘63. He decides, then and there, that Five doesn’t need to know about this. None of the others do.

Maybe they break protocol a lot, and show up at the flower shop one day, asking you to sit down. No more secrets, they remember. Not between them, and now, not with you. They tell you a story of cruel parents, superpowers and lonely children. Of death and rage and destruction. Of the apocalypse, which never happened yet apparently did, and how you died, a speck amongst billions. Of falling down a rabbit hole to the 60′s, and falling all the way back again. They tell you who they are, who they think you are, and why they showed up in the first place.

Five definitely doesn’t need to know about this.

It’s... a lot. You need time to process, and they understand. They don’t like it, but Diego’s not Sir Reginald and Lila’s not the Handler. So they leave you be, thinking that’s that. Their florist, yet another mistake made by The Umbrella Academy, left in the dust. You feel confused and betrayed and heartbroken for a long while. Radio silence.

Until things get better.

You show up at their apartment one evening, weeks later, holding a potted un-sprouted bulb, panting at the doorstep like you ran all the way there. They let you in without a word. You set the flowerpot on the table and god, you talk more than they’ve ever heard from you in one sitting. It’s rambling, not all that eloquent. But they understand what you’re saying, eyes softening at your misguided panic.

And then — shyly, as if they could ever deny you anything — you ask if they want to see. (It takes Diego’s elbow in her side to get Lila’s mind out of the gutter.) You dip your fingers into the soil, frowning gently in concentration. There’s a familiar pins-and-needles sensation in your fingertips, flowing through your nerves and into the moist earth. Absently, you worry if it’ll even work. These two have a tendency to throw you off guard.

But lo and behold, the dormant bulb unfurls before their eyes in a matter of seconds, springing forth a fresh green shoot, and a moment later, a starburst of golden petals.

A daffodil, bobbing lightly on their coffee table.

———

ugh yeah lmao this got long but that’s the fic idea, anon. thanks for askin :)

and NO the super-powered kids aren’t related - in my mind the hargreeves’ were adopted/raised together and are therefore siblings and THAT’S why they shouldn’t date each other - but diego, lila and reader have no familial connection. at all. i’m not here for any pseudo-incest shit in this fic pls and thank u.

aha look at me writing blurbs for tua fics when i have a wholeass! paz fic! published! and u n f i n i s h e d ! alsdhfgalshdfg now i want to do more someone come scream at me about ezra and oberyn and ellaria and paz and boba and din and any other character under the sun

listen y’all i have a lot of IDEAS for various fics and i also have Zero self control - please ask me about them!!!! fuck it man ask me about anything odds are i’ll fuckin write it!!!!!! i am a desperate hoe!!!! i have no self-respect!!!!

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thewritingdungeon · 4 years

Text

Discordancy #1

SUMMARY: Hawkeye has a long and varied past. He’s been a carnie, a spy, a superhero, even a brainwashed soldier. He also was, no matter how much he hates to admit it, an ex-criminal. It’s a part of his past he moved on from long ago and hoped he could just forget ever happened. But when an old associate contacts him for help, Clint is reminded that not everything he had so desperately tried to leave behind was something bad.

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Clint Barton/OFC

WORD COUNT: 2,590

WARNINGS: heavy petting

"I can't believe that worked, you beautiful bastard!" Eris cries out, draping herself in the passenger seat. "That was such a rush, I could kiss you right now!"

Clint gives an easy smile in response, leaning back now that he has the luxury of driving slower. "By all means, don't fight it if you—"

The rest of his words are lost as his face is abruptly turned and his mouth covered by soft lips pressing eagerly against his. His lips part in silent surprise, and Eris takes the opportunity to dart her tongue in to swipe against his, bringing with it a taste of smoke and cinnamon he somehow finds intoxicating. But before he can register her actions enough to kiss back, Eris is pulling away, a grin on her lips and fire in her eyes.

He should have known right then and there that she'd be trouble for him.

Clint shook the memory off as he looked up at the nondescript hotel looming above him then back down at the text that had made its way onto his phone.

Hey Francis,

Long time, no chat! Just thought I'd see how you've been doing. How's the wife? Everest is lonely without your jokes, but I'm still climbing it!

-X

It was a code he hadn't seen in a long time. Her code. She had even signed it with her usual kiss.

'Need help Ronin. Meet at hotel.'

He never thought he'd step foot back in such a place after SHIELD took him in—never thought he'd be allowed to step foot back in—but he could already feel that warm familiarity slip over him like a well-worn jacket as he stepped into the polished lobby, old habits making their way back into his gait.

"Good evening, Ronin," The Concierge warmly greeted. "It has been quite the long time since we have seen you around here. We are pleased to see you make use of our services once again."

"Evening, sir. It's, uh," Clint huffed out in incredulity, and the man's smile only grew more smug, "it sure is interesting to be back."

"And how may we help you this evening?"

Clint scratched at his chin. "Ah, I'm here to find an old friend, actually." He held up his hands in a gesture of good will at the sharp look in The Concierge's eye. "Don't you worry, I know the rules. Just looking for a drink and a chat, I swear."

The Concierge hummed noncommittally, flipping through his ledger. "Well, you're in luck that a room has already been reserved in your name, though payment will still be required." There was a slap of folded notes on the marble surface, but the man made no acknowledgement. "And you have a booth reserved in the lounge for midnight. We trust you can find your way there?"

"Mm, yeah. Thanks, man."

Clint made to take the offered room key, and was given one last unsettling smile by The Concierge. "Welcome back to Hotel Soteria, Ronin. Do let us know if you find yourself in need of any assistance."

The lounge was dim, lit sporadically with shifting colored lights meant to distract and obfuscate. There was no host to tell him which booth he was intended for, but a familiar shine of icy waves flashed through the milling crowd and gave Clint his answer. Taking quick steps forward, he left himself with no time to second guess his actions as he slid into the booth.

"You changed your hair."

He drank in the sight of the woman before him, trying his damnedest not to let the spark of familiarity burn into something more illicit. Where before had been wild white locks in a disheveled undercut, bold makeup and piercings, and a 'fuck you' attitude so common amongst rebellious youth, now stood messy silver-white waves cut sharp, with subtlety and daring balanced out in what combined into an impossibly alluring form.

And yet it was still that avid, easy grin tugging at dark, painted lips that met his words and stole his attention. "Aren't men your age supposed to start a flirtation with 'what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?' If you're not careful, I might start thinking you didn't miss me, Ronin."

Clint couldn't help but snort and roll his eyes at her greeting, "You got rid of the lip ring too."

"Aw, sad that it's gone?"

"Shouldn't you be flirting with people your own age?"

That pulled a sharp laugh from the woman, "Where would be the fun in that?"

Clint sighed; he had forgotten how...whimsical Eris could be. It was a fun trait to be around in the past, but the world had made him weary, jaded. There was no real place for exuberance in a spy's life. He didn't know how to deal with it anymore. "Get to the point, Eris. Why did you bring me here?"

A slow smile spread across her face, and Eris leaned forward, voice a husky whisper, "I've got something I think you'll really want to get a hold of."

Clint had been so wrapped up in not staring at her that he didn't quite grasp what Eris had intended when she told him she had something for him. It wasn't until he felt the heat of her slide onto his lap to straddle him that Clint realized the trouble he was in.

Rough, half-gloved hands cupped his face as Eris leaned down to press an eager kiss to his lips. His mind went blank, arousal and habit taking over to urge his mouth to move against hers. He dragged her closer by her hips, earning him a gasp that let him slip his tongue inside to explore her mouth. Clint smirked into the kiss; it was rare he was able to surprise the chaotic woman.

He buried a hand into her hair, letting him control their movements and deepen the kiss as Eris's touch burned a trail down his chest. His advantage was quickly lost, however, when she dipped a hand into the waistband of both his jeans and underwear, careful to keep away from where he suddenly found himself wanting her touch the most. A ragged moan escaped Clint from the combination of that teasing brush and the harsh bite to his lower lip.

"I'll wait up for you," she whispered, placing another short peck against his swollen lips.

And then the warmth of her body was gone. Clint blinked as he tried to understand what had just happened, but Eris had already disappeared.

"Damn girl's trying to give me a heart attack with her games, I swear," he groaned. "Can't she just leave an old man alone?"

Taking a moment to adjust himself, Clint palmed the flash drive Eris had slipped into his pants, moving it to a more secure location with the sly tricks years spent in the circus had taught him. He tipped back his beer and waited, looking as much like a man who had just been teased as any around him. All he needed to do was keep blending in a little bit more; then, he could escape to his room and see what the job was that awaited him.

Clint locked the door of his hotel room, slumping forward to lean his head against the polished wood with a frustrated groan. Why, of all the people he had teamed up with in his past, did it have to have been Eris that made contact with him again?

He thought back to all the jobs they had pulled off together. The bright, brilliant, chaotic demolitions prodigy who lived up to her alias was a surprising complement to his pinpoint efficiency as a marksman and hired sword. She was an explosion unto herself, and at only age 18, she truly had been a force to be reckoned with. So why she had taken after that first heist to teasing and flirting with a man over ten years her senior, Clint would never understand.

His mind brought up flashes of moments witnessed firsthand of how she liked to play with those who caught her interest like toys, and when she was done she'd leave them behind just as easily as one. It was all a game in her mind. Which made it all the more frustrating for Clint. As much as he hated to admit it, he was drawn to Eris, but he refused to play her games and be another crushed pawn. The age gap didn't help matters either. God, every time he thought about her made him feel like a dirty, old man. It was even worse now that he actually was a dirty, old man.

"A gorgeous woman is waiting for you on your bed, and you choose getting personal with a door instead?" He heard an undignified snort from behind him. "You're a better gentleman than me, Ronin."

Clint sighed. He wasn't surprised by her presence in his room: she hadn't given him a room number to meet him at, after all. He turned and made his way to the encrypted computer that came with every guest room in the hotel, ignoring Eris as she swung her legs back and forth off the side of the single bed. "That's because you are neither gentle nor a man," he remarked tersely, settling into the leather chair. "I don't see why you had to go and grope me to slip me the damn thing if you were just gonna meet me in the room anyway."

"Cuz then I wouldn't have had an excuse to kiss you!" Came Eris's cheerful response."

Yeah, yeah. This USB of yours got extra encryption already on it?"

"It's safe."

"All right, let's see what problems you're dragging me into now." He plugged in the drive and immediately a single folder popped up:

Project Shadrak.

Clint clicked through the folder, and dozens of files appeared on the screen, each one detailing a job right down to grainy, camera-feed clips of the woman in question. "Eris, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Silence hung heavy in the air for a single moment.

"…A week and a half ago, I found a bug in my apartment," she began from behind him, voice quiet. "I sweep the place regularly, so I don't know how long it had been there, but I could've sworn it couldn't have been for long. Then a few days later, an unmarked envelope was left inside my door, lock still secure. It contained that flash drive and details on every job I've ever pulled since joining the Underground."

He spun the chair to face her, eyes hard at the implication of her words. "Why didn't you have someone trace the data? Why not check your security system feeds? What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm a hired gun, Eris, not a hacker. And I'm not even that anymore."

"I tried!" She bit out in frustration. "Once any hacker saw the flash drive's encryption, they refused to help me. Wouldn't even tell me why!"

"And what exactly do you think involving me is going to help with?"

"Don't you get it?!" Clint faltered at the distress in her voice and watched as she gripped at the roots of her hair and tugged on the strands. "They have data on every. single. job. I've done! That means they have this information on you too! You're in danger, Francis!"

Her voice broke on his false name, and Clint felt his ingrained defensiveness crack at the sound. "What about other partners you've had; have you warned them too?"

He had thought by now nothing Eris could do nothing to surprise him anymore. But then, she shifted her gaze from his, looking awkward as she muttered, "I haven't had any other partners on jobs..."

Clint blinked, “What?”

“Look, I-I don’t— I just— Before you agreed to work with me, no one wanted to work with a technical teenager, all right?” Eris crossed her arms. “After the Italy job and the banker, I got a reputation for being difficult to work with. I don’t—” she cut herself off with a petulant huff, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I just don’t really play well with others, okay? It’s usually better for everyone if I’m hired for design work or solo jobs.”

“You worked with me just fine,” he pointed out.

Eris threw her hands up in the air, exasperation weaving its way through her words, “Yeah, and I got known for that too! You were known as the only one who could ‘handle’ me, as one employer put it. Did no one ever bring it up to you?”

“Honestly, I never really thought about it,” Clint admitted. “Usually was too busy thinking about the shit coffee they always gave us.”

“Yeah, well, it was said to me enough times. So there’s no one else to warn, you happy?”

Eris was dangerously close to pouting, and it made it difficult to keep the serious expression on his face that the situation called for. “Fine, I’ll help you find out who’s after you so that both our backs are in the clear. But after that you’re on your own, Eris. I can’t be seen back in this life.”

“Thank you, Ronin,” she breathed. The next instant, Clint found himself in a crushing hug.

“Oof. Er, I can’t help if you break me, all right? Jeez, I forgot how freakishly strong you are.” Clint rubbed his back as Eris stepped away and sighed. “We’ll head out around noon tomorrow to speak to the last hacker you brought the stick to. For now, get the hell out of my room and get some rest, okay?”

#Clint Barton #hawkeye #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton x oc #clint barton x reader #marvel comics #MCU #Clinton Francis Barton #clint barton x ofc #hawkeye x oc #hawkeye x reader

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kanene-yaaay · 5 years

Text

Patton has a secret ~

Kanene’s note: *read the speech I decide to write here* Hmm...

Caham.

*Throw away the paper* Is just a lot of fluff. Like... just fluff. No drama, no angst, no action, no adventure, maybe fiction, but a lot of fluff. :v

... I should try to write others genres... xDD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Patton and Ler!Roman/Ler!Virgil (Just a itsy bitsy of Lee!Virgil and Lee!Roman).

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 3500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* My first Sanders Sides Tickle Fic finally translated!!! Yayyyyyyy!!! \0\ /0/ \0/ *jazz glitter hands*

* Here the fanfic in Portuguese (brazilian’s one!) ! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video and drink hot chocolate water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

In fact, with how times Patton took care of the other three (and sometimes, five) members of the Mental Palace it could almost be seen as a hobby, a piece of his routine even. But he just could not help or stop himself from doing something when he knows to have in his own hands a world of possibilities for lighten up their, rainy or not, days and paint in their faces a smile, even when it was a light embarrassed one. This was a little something that worked as if he was brighten his own days.

And that reason was what it was so… strange to watch them turning the table.

In the days very after the conversation they had, followed by his room visit (think about that still giving bittersweet shivers down his spine), at least one time and for a few minutes in the day, all the spotlights switched to the quartet’s cat lover.

Just as this morning, when he was woken up by a battalion of cuteness and love consisted by fifteen puppies summoned and carefully deposited in his bed by Roman, who doesn’t waited much to yell an order to “ATAAAAAAAAACK!”. Leading an awake from an extremely confused Patton, which was immediately subdued by licks and small barks doesn’t taking long to rip out happy giggles and squeal from the one who wore cardigan.

Or, even like those random moments in the day when no one is around and Virgil feels absolutely comfortable to wrap him up in a calm, filled with more signification which words could archive, hug. That time when Patton controls himself to not squeak (too much) loud, especially on those others pieces of time when the aspect of Fight or Flight eventually ended up changing to canals with Patton’s favorites cartoons, claiming between (fake) annoyed murmurs that “There isn’t anything better on TV.”

And also, there was Logan. Oh, Lo… Maybe never before, except celebrations, had Patton received so many gifts. They went from interesting books to soothing songs playing in his room’s background, expressing all those feelings that so much confused the duo with the same glasses. Morality liked this approach equally. Most of the songs sang that everything would be okay.

In the end, even if all of it were… different, new, Patton couldn’t deny that loved every second of it.

And maybe it was for all these pampering, however he started to feel a bit freer to demonstrate a little more of him, little by little… For that reason (or maybe feeling?) that some days after all the new occurrences he found himself asking Roman to summon him a tablet. Sure, he summoned one by himself, albeit Roman’s conjurations have always been the ones that spilled the most amount and shiny details, creativity, wonderfully, coloring in the Mind Palace.

This was some weeks ago. Some fast, full of giggles and blush weeks since his very newest discovery on internet. May or may not the only one to blame for his full-sleep nights shrank in order to increase his searching time.

“Tickly Community”

Just thinking on these words already unleashed warm waves through all over his face as involuntary as his began of smile and that soft and cozy sensation intertwining his heart.

Tickles, he squirmed quickly, one of the purest and simplest way to show someone trust and affection. A normal activity to improve bonding, which some disliked and others loved.

And Patton knew very well in which group he was.

It was kind of an addiction, or even a fellow, as he preferred to imagine. Making itself present not only when he turned on the electronic device, but in any and every time of the day. It seemed like a little angel with cat ears and cute voice who liked to appear from absolutely nowhere to say how much every activity in the day would be incredibly better just adding a few pokes, squeezes and sweet, uncontrollable laughter here and there.

And don’t even get him started with the movies, cartoons and series, which, unfairly, insisted in dropping one (sometimes more) tickle scene when he was the least prepared as he could be. Patton swore that in these moments he lost all the control on his body: he always felt being ‘too much smiley’ (even when he brain ordered him to stay serious… Well, he always was more a heart guy than mind one, anyway), ‘too much agitated’, looking at the movie ‘too much’ and always ending up in a mental battle, posteriorly, to choose which one was his favorite (spoiler alert: He always picked all and re-watched them.)

His fingers typed the URL he already knew by heart, snuggling further on the couch as the links appeared in his face. The one in cardigan (since his onisie was washing) loved reading stories gravitated around this subject. The descriptions made imaginary fingers dance in each one of his tickle spots… or at least that ones he suppose that were his spots. It had been few years since activities like that didn’t happened with Thomas or in the Mind Palace, so the freckled side didn’t knew if he stilled susceptible as used to be. Uurg. Think about this made him sad, so, the moral side decided focus on the arts in the art ahead.

Maybe hours or minutes have passed. He couldn’t say, however he could confirm that watched something around three absolutely adorable tickle videos and was in his fifth story whe-

- OH PATTON, MY PATTON – The high pinch scream together with the little jump gave by the called as answer seemed to amuse the prince, his stunning smile increasing. – What are you watchin’? – He let himself fall in the furniture’s arm, close from where Patton’s head rested, leading to the other automatically turn off the tablet in a hurry.

- Oh, nothing, nothing. – The group’s father waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. – Just some new cakes recipes! Thomas overbought Crofter’s and I’m not fire, but I want to help burn the stock! – Both giggled.

- You looked very happy. – Virgil couldn’t stop himself from the grin growing in his face, proud when the representation of morality released his second scream in such a short time, seeing as he truly didn’t notice the second which the purple lover laid in the other corner of the couch. His eyes shined as he saw red spreading across Patton’s cheeks.

“The world goes round.”

- W-when d-did you- for a heartbeat of moment he shuffles in his own words, stumbling in the letters and almost losing himself, taking a second to his face stabilized in a smile and the words stopped falling out his mouth. A bothersome sensation showed in the stomach of the other two sides, realizing how much trained and good at controlling his feelings and expressions he was. Maybe they saw a little of themselves in the act. – You know how much I love appreciate this little things. – Smile.

- Ho ho!! – The resounding laughter from the royal side made itself present as he approached even close to Morality, ignoring any and every signification of ‘Personal Space’. – It sees that nuestro padre is hiding something. ~

Maybe it was the Lee Mood attacking, maybe it was for how that specific phrase had sounded immensely with thousands of the dialogues he had read and which still spinning around his mind; It could even be the playful way they were going. However, Patton could only continue giggling and squirming in attempts to dodge from Roman’s efforts to take the device in his hands, being pretty good at it, something that definitely annoyed the Creativity’s aspect, causing him to let out a exasperated snort.

- Any help, Stormcould?

- I thought princes were ‘self-sufficient’. – He made quotes with his fingers, probably a reference to some fight of them.

- Wha… And we are! Even more when people like you force us to do all the work! Come on, you want to see this too! Another hand here would be nice!

- Tch. Can’t. – Virgil clicked his tongue, irony pouring out his lips as he raised his hands. – I only have mine.

The angry expression from the prince comically mixed up with the euphoric Patton’s squeal, who jumped to a sitting position, moving with more facility closer to the one wearing a hoodie.

- Was that a pun?? – His eyes seemed like could bright the starts by the way they were shining. Virgil’s eyes widened, hiding in the hood while mumbled a ‘no’, half-annoyed, half-awkward and half-happy for be the one who put that smile in the other’s face.

- Ah há!! – The victorious expression quickly took place in Roman’s face as he got the tablet. – Great distraction, my gothic subject!

He clicked the ‘Turn on’ button.

- No! Wait!! – His voice possibly raised a little bit than normal, ora little shakier, or even desperate. Patton stretched quickly, seeking to retrieve the object. He didn’t really know how to explain the suddenly panic. He always dreamed in telling this secret to the others, but… Now this possibility was too… real. He was afraid, afraid that they found it weird, didn’t liked it, felt forced in some way or didn’t really understand his liking and interpret it wrong and… In just that millisecond, Patton feared about all of it and something else at the same time.

The duo looked alarmed, and this made he doubt the reason of his fear. They were his adorable kids, his famILY with eccentric likes just as him. His sons who took care of him. He felt silly, but it didn’t change the glares in his direction.

- Roman… - A light threatening started to take strength in Virgil’s tune.

- Sure! Here you go, padre. – With a big flourish, he handed over the tablet. An apologetic smile in his features, a slightly deeper look in his glare. – I hope you to know that I was just messing with you! There is no greater honor than keep safe our secrets! - Winked, getting up, a hand resting in the chest while the other one gestured in a non-stop rhythm. – And, if is a matter of honor you can count on me to give my life into order to protect and safeguard it! – He bowed, holding Patton’s hand and kissing it, instantly dissolving the fear in the said aspect in an excited smile.

- Oh! Let me give back your kiss, then! – The moral side pulled from his pocket a Kisses’ candy bag, tossing it at Roman, who reflexively grabbed.

- Do you… Do you really have those on the pockets just for the dad joke?? – Virgil asked giving the question up as soon he saw Patton rolling his eyes, biting excitedly his tongue’s tip while shrugging.

- … No?

- They are really good! – The prince exclaimed, his voice muffled by the dozens candies he had put in his mouth and now was trying to chew. Patton felt a hand delicately hold his shoulder.

- You know we never would force you to share something you are not comfortable, right?

- Of course I do, kiddo. – The heart’s representation soothed his smile, deflecting his gaze to his lap, where the tablet calmly rested. The way both acted… so sweet and adorable…

He didn’t even knew of what he was afraid at the first place.

- But…no. – His words come out before anything stopped them. – I want to tell.

This automatically caught their attention, interest sparkling on their expressions. Sure that they were the most comprehensible as possible with the paternal aspect, however this didn’t change the flame of curiosity created by the situation in their minds, which was inflamed even more right now. Patton turned on the device.

- It’s a really silly thing… - Virgil lightly squeeze his shoulders in an encouraging way. Roman moved a little more closely and was gifted with the tablet, now unblock, being deposited on his hands. The words floated from Patton’s lips before his brain or fear could do something to stop them. – But I like tickling!

His speech come out fast and low, he raised up his eyes for a second before lowering them at equal speed and started to play with the cardigan’s tip between his fingers. Patton was a person of a lot of expressions and gestures and hops and joy, albeit this time he was just quiet, slightly embarrassed as the blush on his ears could say.

And happy. A relieved happiness for don’t need to hide anything anymore.

- Patton. – The one with glasses looked up, just to find Virgil struggling with a grin until he gave up on the battle, letting it take over his face. Patton lighted up with expectantly, feeling like he had putted a piece of his soul in the two aspects’ hands and asked ‘So…?’ – This is… - He shook almost imperceptibly his head, his voice took a softer tune, his smile gave away to a serious face. – There is no problem in liking this you know that, right? We will not going to judge you. – Virgil bitted a little his lip, the grin coming back. – To be honest this is…

- ADORABLE!! – Patton was thrown on the couch. Roman having jumped in him, his smile was stunning and his eyes twinkling dangerously. – ABSOLUTELY, INCREDIBLY, ADORABLY ADORABLE!

The cats lover just could giggle, ignoring the heat in his face growing up more and more as he spoke a couple of dad jokes. Virgil’s head appeared besides the prince’s shoulder, almost hided by it. He deposited the tablet on the coffee table, a dishonest smile shining as a sign warning dangerous. Patton felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation transforms to little butterflies in his stomach.

- Yes. Extremely cute.

He felt amazing.

- Oh, kiddos, it’s because of your influence! – Refuted. Half smile, half truth.

The dangerous spark in the pair of eyes seemed to sprawl even more as they stared him. Roman experimented to wriggle his fingers on his direction. Patton squirmed, a new wave of small, bouncing laughs escaping from his lips.

- It seems like our padre is full of giggles. ~ - He pretend to attack a couple of times, delighting himself with the squeaks and bubbling snorts that came as answers from the Morality’s representation.

A different squeal came out from Patton’s mouth, making the prince turn around just to see Virgil lightly tracing a finger in the other’s foot. There was a grin in his features. – I ask myself where they come from…

- V-virgihihihihil, deheheheheheahahar! Nahahahaha!

- I also question the same thing, my nebulous friend, BUT, not to worry! I bet the entire fabric is right here! - Patton followed Roman’s hands, which spin in some flourishes before reach his sides, light scratching they and leading another yelp to pour out from the cat lover, who could swear that he would melt with all the teasing.

- Ro, oh Ro! Pleheheheheheheheheheheasehehehehe! Roho, no teahahahahahasing!

- Don’t worry, padre! I shall help you with this awful case of endless cute laugh! – He squeezed his sides just some more times, increasing Patton’s struggling before lift his dancing fingers. - The cure should somewhere around… - He started to move his fingers, quickly spidering up and down in all his ribs. Patton’s hands shouted to hold him, but he easily dodge them, taking the opportunity to give some special attention to the victim’s armpits. – Here!!

And then, when his laugh, real belly laugh, started to fill the air, it was only then when Patton began to realize that this wasn’t a dream. The joyful filled him almost as quickly as Roman scribble his fingers along his sides, raising to his upper ribs and staying there with softs circular motions, appreciating the snorts that interconnected the laughter from the other. Before he got tired and goes down, squeezing and poking every piece of ticklish skin he could research with the shirt raising a few inches from Patton’s fight.

- RO-ROHOHOH! NAHAhahaHAHA! P-pleAHAHAHAHAhahahaseHEHEHEheeee!!

-Oh, my my! It seems like someone can’t even form phrases without being an adorable mess of giggles and squeals!

Meanwhile, Virgil calmly danced his fingertips through the foot of the one in cardigan, tracing illogic standards, scratching his arc, suddenly increasing the speed (and, consequently, the laugh, yelps and snort stream from the moral side) as found the toes. It looks that don’t be visible to Patton’s eyes just made him incredible more ticklish.

- VIR-HIHIHIHIHIGIL!! nahahaHAHAHAHAHA THEre!! Virhihihihihgil – The purple one thought he couldn’t like even more of his name until hear that variation. His heart was melting with all the adorableness. Why didn’t they discovered that before?

- Yes, Patton? Can you repeat? I couldn’t understand with all your laugh!

- Who is the cutest and ticklish side in the Mind Palace? – Roman switched to his tummy, poking and scrabbling, fingers paying attention in every minimum inch achievable and analyzing which one gave the best reactions. Patton struggled, the belly laughter shaking his entire body as getting out. His arms hugged his sides in an attempt to not to stop the tickles. His face burned and the happiness were assuming shape of tears as they accumulated in his eyes’ corner, his smile seemed truly goes to an ear from another, lighting up the entire room. – You know who are, huh, my dear and adorable Patton? – Each world was a scribble in his navel.

- YOHOHOHOHOHOHOU TWOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! NHAHAHAHA!

- Wrong answer. ~ - Virgil refuted, and almost synchronized both attackers started to blow raspberries in his foot and belly. His laughter went silent for a moment.

- RO! VI! NAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA! ITHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS ME! MEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! PleAHAHAHAHASEHEHE! NAHAHAhahhahahaha!

- I feel like he want to tell us something. – The representation of fear calmly commented as his fingers taking turns between squeeze knees and tights wasn’t leading the Morality to squeal, crackle, yelp and giggle almost at the same time, in a madness which the three loved. – But I just can’t get it, you know?

Patton thought he really, really know, the mean of ‘unbearable’, until Roman went, this time for real, to his armpits and Virgil reallocated himself to rest his thumbs on his waist.

And they attacked.

- NononononoNO! WahahahAHAHAHAHAHAIT!

He didn’t remembered if he screamed, or talked or even had some coherence. Suddenly all his muscles began to struggle and his laughter were faster, real and stronger than ever, among them also came shrieks, snorts and squeals until completely disappear. His thoughts were a mess. His eyes opened from time to time to take glimpses of Roman and Virgil’s affectionate smiles towards him. Tears flowed down his cheeks as joy materialized, a stunning joy, that one which made his head go side to side, up and down and a smile bigger than the Sun open in his face.

- STO-STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHO-

They got the message, since in any moment before the father aspect got even closer to ask them to cease the attack, and quickly moved away. However, the duo could not stop themselves to appreciate the puddle of reminiscent giggles who was Patton, who now melted in the couch, letting the last laughter end. Wiped the tears and stared Roman and Virgil with the gratitude and happiness so easily to read in his face that made both aspects blush with the intensity, leading the purple lover hide in his hood and the prince smile more.

The moral side jumped, crushing them in a tight, sincere, and kind of clumsy hug due all them be sitting and with many words between the lines.

- Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!– His words comes out as fast as a machine gun, how he had breath for it even after all the tickling, no one really knew.

- You’re welcome, Padre! – Creativity’s representation lightly poked his sides, making him jump. – But be aware that your actions awaked up two insatiable tickle monsters!

Virgil just rolled his eyes. Patton released a fast giggle as answer, and for some reason, the purple felt all his ‘Fight or Flight’ instincts be activated. He squirmed a little in the hug, but the grip didn’t ease. The Morality’s voice came out a bit lower than the normal, but equally comprehensible.

- Oh, no, Roman… - It was like a purr from a feline before the attack. – You were the ones who did.

Logan left his room, having had a very satisfactory reading morning. Automatically screams and laughter entered in his ear field, his eyes lightly widened and he followed the sound, going to the Living Room just to find Roman and Virgil on the floor, Patton between them, his hands tickling both without mercy, leading the melodious sound (he had to admit) which were flying from their lips.

- Who are the two sides with shining and wonderful laughter who the tickle monster love to tickle tickle tickle tickle? – His tune was as a father talking with two babies. – They are you! Yesh yesh! Are you you you!

Logan pondered the situation. Patton was a reasonable person who loved everyone, so he more than possible would stop when realize they have had enough. Not to mention that he didn’t wanted take the risk to being pulled into the game or embarrassing the participants. Especially the one with hoodie, who still gradually getting used with the affection of the famILY and the prince, who sometimes let himself think that he needed to show himself the stronger and flawless figure that the ‘royalty must be’.

Realizing no real danger in the activity that his eyes analyzed, the logic aspect just stay long enough to decorate Virgil and Roman’s ticklish spots, since these could be a really future useful data, before backing to his room, suddenly remembering that there was another book on his shelf waiting for him.

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lostcybertronian · 5 years

Text

Egotober- Day 4

Prompt: Jacket

Prompt 34 (from my inbox, requested by anonymous): “I’m going with you.”

Pairing: WebMD

---

Dark’s car was a small, sleek thing, completely black from nose to trunk. On any usual occasion, only he was allowed to drive it; it was a strict rule that no ego dared break.

Today, however, he had designated Google Blue to the task of running his errands.

Blue felt the purr of the engine rumble through him as he started the car, settling back into the leather seat and gripping the steering wheel at the mandated “ten and two” position, and preparing to shift the machine into drive so he might embark on his assigned tasks.

Before he could, however, the passenger door opened and Dr. Iplier shoved himself in.

“I’m going with you,” he panted, red-faced and breathless. “I need some things at the store.”

Blue surveyed him warily, noting his choice of a white cotton t-shirt and jeans with some distaste. “You are aware of the temperature?” He asked. “It is forty degrees outside. Perhaps you should bring-”

“There was no time.” Dr. Iplier said hastily, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. “I don’t need a jacket.”

“Very well, then.” Blue was in no mood to argue with his boyfriend. Instead, he shifted the car into drive, performed a flawless three-point turn, and accelerated down the driveway.

---

“W-why does D-D-Dark need all this stuff?” They walked down the sidewalk weighed down with plastic bags stuffed full of crayons, googly eyes, and construction paper. Dr. Iplier’s teeth chattered and every word exhaled puffs of steamy fog.

“It’s not for Dark,” came the answer. “Yan needs a costume for her Halloween event at school, and she threatened to decapitate him if he did not comply.”

Dr. Iplier’s head tipped back and his face flushed red as he laughed. “I-I wish I’d been th-there to see the lo-look on his face.”

Blue glanced away, feeling his core flush hot. “The footage certainly was a sight,” he muttered.

“I’m sure it was.” Dr. Iplier shivered as a frigid breeze tugged at his hair and clothes. “U-ugh. I’d k-k-kill for some coffee right now.”

“Would you like some?” They had just passed a coffee shop. Its warm aroma had clearly enticed him, yet for some illogical reason the doctor had not diverted from the sidewalk.

Now, it seemed, he was tempted. “C-could we?”

They turned around, heading back toward the shop.

It was small, but warm. Dr. Iplier practically melted when they stepped inside, taking a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the fresh-brewed scent.

“Thank you,” he murmured as the barista handed him his coffee. He raised the cup to his lips, wincing at the scorching liquid but taking tiny sips regardless. “I’m so cold.”

Blue snorted, taking his hand and leading him back toward the door. Dark would be expecting him back soon. “Next time maybe you’ll bring a jacket.”

Another laugh, another rush of warmth into his core. “Shut up.”

#egotober #egotober2019 #webmd #dr iplier #googleiplier #google blue #markiplier egos #writersofmark #fanfiction #lostandwandering #my writing #lost writing tag #writing prompts #fluff #humor #asks #lovely anon

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crankywhenprovoked · 5 years

Text

The Nanny. Part 3

Warnings: Deceit (His name is Dimitri). Remus

Rating: For Everyone.

Words: 1.2k

Chapter 1: Here

Chapter 2: Here

“Daaaaaddy, when are people going to be here?” Roman asked, tugging at Dimitri’s leg.

“In about an hour, same answer Logan gave you five minutes ago.” Dimitri laughed, picking Roman up and setting him on his hip.

“But that’s so long away, why can’t they be here now?”

“Because I like to see you suffer.” Dimitri teased, making Roman pout and cross his arms.

“No pouting allowed on your birthday.” Logan said, coming into the kitchen.

“Make Daddy stop being mean to me.”

Reaching out his arms towards Logan, the adult grabbed him, shifting him onto his hip and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Daddy stop being mean to the birthday boy.” Logan snickered, watching Dee roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry that I can’t make time go faster, and that I couldn’t make the party start any earlier than 2.”

“You could have.” Roman mumbled.

“Could not. Where’s your brother, anyway.”

“I don’t know, do I look like his keeper?”

Logan stifled his laugh behind a cough as Dimitri shook his head and ruffling Roman’s hair before tickling his side.

“Why don’t you go find Rem, and Roman and I will go make sure the backyard is all set. Sound good, Ro?”

“Yea!”

“Thank you.” Dimitri mouthed, before heading towards the living room, Logan taking Roman the other way.

Heading into the back yard, Logan gave a glance over all the decorations, making sure that none were too skewed. The table clothes were still in place and the food table was nearly ready, the lids of the coolers just needed to be taken off. Same with the bowls that were covering the non perishable foods, but still needed to be protected.

“When is the food coming?” Roman asked, as Logan shifted the plates.

“A little after people start arriving. We wanted to make sure everyone had a chance to get here, and eat some snacks before the main food came.”

“Does this mean we get to eat pizza for breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’ll think about it.” Logan smiled, as Roman hugged around his neck tighter.

“Pretty please? If we has enough leftovers, please?”

“Ok, ok. But no cake until after lunch then. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“What deals are you making with Roman?” Remus’ voice came from the door, the younger being followed by Dee.

“I’ll allow you to have pizza for breakfast, if you don’t ask for cake until after lunch.”

“Oh. Cool. Dad, can we go in the bounce house?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Both boys let out a small cheer, Roman wiggling to get down, before they took off towards the inflatable house.

“You know they’re still going to try and get cake before lunch.” Dimitri laughed, moving to stand next to Logan.

“Oh, I know. But Roman stopped asking about when people were going to show up, didn’t he?”

“This is true.”

~*~

A soft smile took place over Logan’s face as he listened to the boys running around the yard, their friends playing tag with them. Adding another name to a tag, Logan handed them to another parent who stuck the tag to a goodie bag. Dimitri had been for a few minutes, but he got sucked into another conversation before heading in to tell the parent about which kindergarden they were going to the next year.

“Roman, dear,” Logan heard one of the other parents call Ro over, directing Logan’s attention over there. “Do you have any more diet pop?”

“I’m not sure, you can ask my dad though.” Roman said, pointing to Logan, before taking off.

Logan’s mouth fell open as he watched Roman for a moment before the lady that had stopped Ro came over. Handing over the marker for a moment to the other helper, Logan dug around in the drink cooler, before handing finding one at the bottom. Wiping his hands off, Logan nodded to the lady, before going back to writing tags, Roman’s words still bouncing around.

“Are the bags almost done?” Dimitri asked, coming over to the table.

“Indeed, no thanks to you.” Logan smirked, as Dimitri let out a raspberry.

“Hush your mouth, what do you need me to do?”

“Maybe pull that other box of juice out of the fridge, I have a feeling there’s going to be some thirsty kids.”

“You got it.” Dimitri nodded, patting Logan on the shoulder before heading back in the house.

“Should have made him stay out in the heat, used the excuse to sit in the ac for a bit.” His helper teased, making Logan laugh.

“You know, I didn’t even think about it.” He smiled, handing them another tag.

~*~

“‘M not sleepy.” Remus mumbled, tucking his head further into Logan’s neck.

“Of course you aren’t.” Logan smiled, rubbing his back.

Next to them, Dimitri shook his head as he held Roman, the other twin already asleep in his arms. The fire pit crackled as another log shifted, billowing heat around them for a moment before the cool night air replaced it again. Remus mumbled again, slowly growing heavier in Logan’s arms as he rocked him slowly, watching the flames dance.

“Is he out?” Dimitri asked, neither boy moving.

“I think so, not that I’m shocked, they barely stopped moving today.”

“This is true, but I think they have the right, being a once a year thing.”

“Glad it is too, I don’t think that I could take it being more than that.”

Dimitri snorted softly, shifting Roman a little as he leaned back more in the chair, rolling his head to look at Logan.

“I do want to thank you, I don’t think I would have been able to handle today all on my own. Even with the small help my parents gave, you were the rock star today.”

“I don’t know about all that.” Logan flushed, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“I do.”

Logan’s face turned more red as he rested his cheek on Remus’ head, as Dimitri let out a fond chuckle.

“Though, your son did say something interesting today.”

“Oh god, what did Remus say?”

“Actually, it wasn’t Remus.”

“Oh?”

“It was Roman,” Logan let out a small laugh, biting his lip. “One of the moms, I don’t remember her name, asked him if there was any more of a certain kind of pop left. And Roman told her that he didn’t know and pointed at me, and told her to ask his dad.”

“Oh.” Dimitri blinked a few times, making Logan frown a little, before Dee shrugged. “I’m honestly shocked it hasn’t happened before this.”

“What?”

“Let’s be real, Lo. You are just as much a dad to them as I am. Would them calling you that confuse everyone, yea, sure. But you said it yourself at the zoo trip a few months ago, that people already mistake them for yours. So I don’t really see the harm in it, if even they slip up a few times.”

“You sure? I don’t want to upset you.”

“I’m not upset, I promise. Shocked, a little, but not upset. I really don’t know what I would do without you, Logan. And I’m sure these two munchkins feel the exact same way. So unless it becomes an actual issue, I think right now it’s just fine. Ok?”

“Ok,” Logan nodded, hugging Remus a little tighter. “Ok.

Tag list:

@no-sleep-gang-posts

@vampyrsarah

@kittycake574

@roxiefox24

@gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

@romanslunchbox

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

@razalin

@nightlovechild

@mr-rectify

@cover-your-eyes-children

@greeneggsandham1998

@vulnerablevirgil

@secretlygeneralperson

@sanderssmutsides

@karmels-stuff

@deitywithablog

@sanderssidesstuffs001

@pundefulpapa

@hell-or-high-waters

@Sanders-sides-shambles @thats-so-crash @pandagirl0730 @pansexual-cat-lady @mollycassmith @hissceit @hanramz-the-fander @callboxkat-art @anachronistic-cat @ocotopushugs @moralityism @infinitesimal-heart @someshinningideas @poundland-twoface @nightlovechild @siriuswhiskers @trashypansexual @ace-v-p-d @gamerzylo @allthemetalsoftherainbow @fanatic564 @cinquefoilelove @violetmcl @evilmuffin @k9cat @candiukas @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @angered-turtle @spacenerrrd @toujours-fidele @starlightlogan @justmyshitandmoreshit @skylagamingv2 @blaikleethepanagender @runyou-cleverboy-andremember @moltengoldenstardust @max-is-tired

#platonic lociet #for now #deceit #ts remus

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lykezoinks · 7 years

Text

[ This ficlet is a formal apology for all the klangst as well as a birthday present for two of my best friends, @t1dalwav3 & @tokyocrisis!! Go wish them happy birthday, ‘cause they’re the best. This ficlet is based off of our Voltron first responder au fic, Breaking Point, that you can find here if you wanna give it a read! The ficlet under the cut is a spin-off bit for something we have planned for future chapters without being spoiler-y. Happy birthday to my babes; I hope y’all enjoy! ]

title: are we there yet? words: 2,795 ship: klance rating/genre: T for language, humor, shippy nonsense of two dorks flirting and low-key being super into each other

Not to sound like a total black sheep, but Keith has a long list of things that he will never quite understand about society. Now he can add the romanticization of roadtrips onto it. From watching daytime television, sitcoms have led him to believe that roadtripping is supposed to be some grand adventure that friends and families embark on in their pastel colored hippie buses or wood-paneled station wagons. There’s supposed to be sightseeing and maps with overlapping red lines, road games, and songs that should probably never leave a summer camp full of seven year olds. It is not supposed to be a temperamental firefighter crammed in his red pick-up truck with the most aggravating ocean rescue guard on the planet. But here Keith is. With Lance. For sixteen hours.

So far on their impromptu road trip, Keith has compulsively eaten two bags of Twizzlers— empty wrappers now properly stuffed in his cup holders— finished ten pages worth of Sudoku puzzles, and begrudgingly agreed to a game of ‘I Spy’ for the first and last time. Lance kept it going for a full forty-five minutes, and there is no doubt in Keith’s mind that if he has to say the phrase “with my little eye” one more time, he will spontaneously combust.

And thinking about that game makes Keith realize it’s been awfully quiet for the past twenty minutes. And his eyes are getting a little dreary as he drives down a mostly vacant highway. When he glances over at Lance, he sees a head of shaggy brown hair drooped forward like a palm tree leaf.

“Lance,” Keith says gruffly, crashing his knuckles into the other’s arm just hard enough to hurt.

“Ow!” Lance rubs at the sore spot on his arm, and Keith can see Lance pouting from the corner of his eye. “What the hell—”

“You are not falling asleep on me, or so help me, I will make sure we stay in the sleaziest Motel 6 I can find.”

Lance lets out a groan, slumping in the passenger seat with a whine and rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. “You can’t honestly expect me to stay awake while you’re playing…” He snatches at Keith’s phone, watching the screen light up with a grimace. “Dear And The Headlights… Where the hell do you even find these bands?”

Keith is pretty sure his eyes are gonna get stuck mid-roll one of these days. And it’ll probably be Lance’s fault. “Wasn’t driver picks the music your rule?”

“That was before I knew you were gonna play trash.”

“It’s pronounced acoustic,” Keith corrects, ignoring Lance’s mock gagging. “And you have no room to talk if you’re gonna play nothing but Britney Spears and Nicki Minaj.”

“Well, if you’re gonna play ‘acoustic’,” Keith is sure he didn’t say it that pretentiously, “you can’t honestly expect me to stay awake.”

“Put on whatever you want!” Keith’s short fuse is about to be blown, and Lance just perks up in his seat with a wiggle of his torso.

“Relax, geez. Let’s see what’s on the radio…”

Lance starts punching the pad of his finger against the seek button, giving each station a few seconds. Static… Static… Commercials… Some 80’s ballot that should be buried along with the leg warmers… Static.

“Lance, would you please just—”

“Shhh! Sh!” Lance shoves a hand up against Keith’s arm, releasing it as he listens closely to what sounds to Keith like gibberish. It takes a few seconds for it to register that the disc jockey is speaking in Spanish. “Did he just say Fotographía?”

“I don’t speak Spanish, I have no idea what he—”

“Shhhh!”

He’s gonna kill him. Keith is actually going to commit first degree murder and dump Lance’s body out in the desert.

When a steady melody of guitar chords drift through the air, Lance starts bouncing up and down in a way that makes the car shake.

“Wait, this is acou—”

“Yes. But this is Juanes. So shush.”

Keith opens his mouth to speak, has a rant loaded and ready to go on his tongue, but then his breath catches in his throat. Lance has never sounded less annoying. In fact, he sounds… Amazing. His voice is like honey, sweet and soothing as it carries through the car.

“Cada vez… Que yo me voy… Llevo a un lado de me piel…”

Keith forces himself to close his mouth, absently remembering something his teachers used to say about flies nesting. Did it get colder? Why does he feel goosebumps? Whatever snarky comeback Keith had begins to fade from his memory.

Then the chorus rolls in. It occurs to Keith that something is very wrong with his heart. It should not be beating this irregularly.

Lance is completely unaware of the fact Keith is having both shivers and hot flashes, gazing out the window as he continues singing along softly. “Es por eso que debo decir— que tu sooo-lo en mis fotos estas…”

Lance stops his singing, and Keith can’t wrap his head around why a tinge of disappointment settles underneath his ribs. The female voice in the song gracefully begins the next verse, and Lance chuckles softly, looking back at Keith.

“I’m not allowed to sing this part,” he explains, some dreamy smile brightening his face. “This is my older sister Carmen’s part. It’s a dumb rule she made up when I was, like, ten. Which is probably for the better, ‘cause I can’t hit Nelly Furtado’s notes—”

“Y—You… I d—did… I didn’t know you could, you could sing…” Something’s wrong with Keith’s tongue too.

“What are you talking about?” Lance snorts, throwing his feet up on the dashboard, something Keith has told him not to do a million times. But he can’t remind Lance again on account of heat flushing his entire face. “I sing all the time.”

“Singing Ke$ha in the shower does not count as real singing,” Keith explains, narrowing his eyes a little at the road. He sighs, flickering his eyes between Lance and the windshield a few times. “You’re… You’re really… Good at it.”

There’s a few long moments where Keith thinks Lance didn’t hear him. And for a split second, Keith catches Lance in the corner of his eye and could swear Lance looks flustered. But that can’t be true, because then Lance is pushing his hair on top of his head, holding it up with long dainty fingers, and beaming, neck craned and eyes closed. “Well, I didn’t take choir for four years and get half the solos for nothing.” Yeah, okay, that sounds more like him.

Keith doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and lets Lance finish out the song while trying not to choke on his thickening throat.

Lance hums out the last of the notes, sitting back in the seat and sighing contentedly. “Man, I almost completely forgot about that song. My dad played Juanes around the house all the time, so my siblings and I are kinda cursed with knowing most of his songs. It’s like they’re ingrained, dude.” Lance taps his temple for emphasis.

Keith can’t help but feel warmth pooling in his chest. Lance has a way with storytelling. Sometimes he makes it feel like Keith is there. And though he’s not familiar with the feeling of nostalgia first-hand, he thinks he can feel it through Lance. And it feels warm and sunny, bright and rustic, like sepia photographs.

“So,” Lance says casually, rolling his shoulders. “Do you sing at all?” He dips his head into Keith’s periphery, waggling his eyebrows suggestively before Keith rolls his eyes again.

“Do you wanna grab dinner soon?”

“Oh, hell no. You are not changing the subject. You’re turning red, by the way.”

“Ugh.” Right when he thinks they’re getting somewhere. “I mean, I don’t know. I was never in choir or anything like that. And I have sung, just… Never for an audience, I guess.”

“Well, you got an audience of one right here,” Lance gestures to himself, placing his fingertips under his chin and grinning brightly. Keith is sure he isn’t red anymore, because he can feel the color drain from his face.

“No. No way in hell. No.”

“C’mon, Keith!” Lance whines in a tone that makes Keith’s eye twitch a little. Then comes the chorus of pleases.

“Fine! Fine, okay. Plug my phone back in and… Pull up the RENT soundtrack.”

Lance snorts, quirking a brow at Keith. His silence prompts Keith to turn his head toward the other— reluctantly— and sigh.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just never pegged you as a showtunes guy.”

Keith looks back at the road, taking one hand off the wheel to emphasize the finality of his statement when he says, “It’s a rock opera.”

“It’s a musical.”

“A rock musical. Totally diff— Wait, you know RENT?”

“Dude, everyone knows RENT… Or at least ‘Seasons of Love.’ Besides, Mama McClain is obsessed with musicals, so I’m guilty by association, and I know a lot of them.” A pause. “Including your ‘rock opera’… What’s your passcode?”

“Fire.” Silence again. Keith doesn’t bother turning his head this time, groaning instead. “What?”

“That’s creative,” Lance tells the firefighter, sarcasm thick in his tone. “How did you come up with that one?”

“Motel 6,” Keith warns, shooting a half-second glare. “Full of roaches.”

“Alright, alright… So what are you serenading me with, huh? A little ‘Tomorrow 4 U’?”

“God, no—”

Lance interrupts, already starting to sing in the most flamboyant tone possible, “Today for youuu! To-mor-row for me!” slinging his shoulders in some pathetic excuse for a dance move.

“Okay, as gay as we know I am—”

“Incredibly.”

“—yes, incredibly— you are not subjecting me to perpetuating my own stereotypes by singing the song of the drag queen in the show, as much as I love Angel. Besides, that song’s reserved for sing alongs with Shiro.”

“It’s what?” Lance is smirking, and Keith kinda hopes that he can develop the ability to teleport.

“I’ve said too much— Just! Put on ‘One Song Glory.’”

Lance makes some noise that sounds like protest, and Keith adjusts his hands on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“You would pick Roger’s song, you freaking emo.”

“Put it on. Before I lose my patience.”

Keith is bluffing, and Lance knows it. Keith can’t sing, and he’s just not willing to admit he’s not good at something. Lance has had this conversation with Hunk and Pidge several times. They came to the conclusion that if Keith could sing, they would have caught him doing so in the shower at least once by now. They’ve caught Shiro shamelessly belting out Queen songs when he thought no one would be home. Hell, even Pidge gets down to some Slim Shady every now and then. And if Keith could sing, he wouldn’t adamantly refuse to come to Karaoke night with them on Wednesday nights. Or at least come up with a better excuse than, “I really don’t need the second hand embarrassment from middle-aged wine moms trying to sing Shania Twain.” Because all the roommates know Keith can’t resist at least tapping his foot along to Shania Twain.

No way in hell can Keith “Voicecrack” Kogane carry a melody, plain and simple.

But Lance might as well lean back and enjoy the trainwreck. Tapping his thumb on the song title, Lance settles into his seat. He has to give Keith props, though. ‘One Song Glory?’ It’s ballsy. Especially when Keith probably sounds like a screeching cat—

“One song… Glory… One song, before I go. Glory. One song to leave behind…”

Okay… That was clean. Really clean. And low and a little raspy in a way that makes Lance’s lungs malfunction. But that’s probably just surprise given that Keith doesn’t sound like a dying animal. Yet. Lance will wait for the key change. That’s the real testament, anyway.

“Time flii-ii-iies… Time diiiiies! Glooo-oo-rr-yyyy-yy-y!” No. Fucking. Way.

Lance gapes, hearing Keith hit notes and run with them, vibrato low and husky in a way that… Well, Lance is pretty sure he gets a fever or something. And his mouth isn’t really working, so he can’t comment. He just listens to Keith sing the entirety of the song. Then the fact that it’s less than a three minute song pulls Lance back to reality. He just barely registers the fact that ‘Light My Candle’ has started, so he pauses the song before Mimi can tell Roger her life story.

“Um…” Keith is the first to break the silence, shifting stiffly in his seat as he continues to drive down the road like nothing happened. “So—”

“You have the voice of an angel.” What?

“What?”

“You just said…”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“… I… I heard you.”

“Nope. Never happened.”

Keith starts pronouncing a mess of stuttering vowels, and Lance perks up, brushing his moment of weakness off of his shoulders.

“So! That was… Decent. A little pitchy, but decent.” He hums for a moment to fill the silence before an idea sparks in the back of his mind. “So how about a duet?”

“Ugh, Lance—”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun…” He starts thinking up a song the two of them would know, scrolling through a mess of playlists. “Wait, you lived with Shiro before you guys moved in with us, right?”

“Yeah… What does that have to do with anything?”

“That means you’ve seen ‘Grease’ at least fifty times, right?”

Keith deflates, lips pulling into a somewhat pathetic frown. “Seventy three.”

“Perfect!” Lance wastes no time in pressing his finger down on the song. “Oh, I didn’t think about who’s doing what part.”

“Does it mat—”

“Dibs on Danny!”

“Oh, c’mo—”

“I got chiiiiills! They’re multiplying!” Lance starts, snapping along to the beat and avoiding Keith’s more than apparent eye roll. “And I’m loooosing controoo-oool! From the power! You’re supplying. It’s electrifying!”

Keith seems to get over his masculinity in a matter of seconds, crooning along to Sandy’s voice. “You better shape up. ‘Cause I nee-eed a man… And my heart is set on youuu. Better shape up…”

They swap back and forth, neither of them caring to follow the melody all that closely by the time the chorus comes along. Somewhere mid-way through the song, they’re hardly harmonizing. Lance lets himself have fun with the song, throwing his hand against his chest dramatically, belting out the notes with all the breath his lungs can muster. Keith joins in, and it suddenly becomes a contest as to which one of the two can look more ridiculous. Keith fakes a swoon, throwing the back of his hand against his forehead and dipping toward Lance in a way that makes Lance break out in a fit of laughter before he can carry on with the verse.

As the song fades out, they’re both swinging their heads from side to side, snapping and twisting like they belong in a 1940′s dance hall more so than a pickup truck.

By the time the song is over, they’re both laughing wildly until tears form in their eyes. Sucking in a few gasps of air, Lance runs the edge of his finger against the brim of his eye, still snorting a little.

“Oh my God,” Keith chuckles, shaking his head. And when Lance looks at him he’s grinning. Keith. Grinning. It’s almost unheard of.

Lance pulls himself together quickly, mock gawking at Keith with something like horror in his expression. “Keith… Keith, I think something’s wrong with your face…”

“Huh?” Keith says, placing a hand to feel against his cheek, brows furrowing. “What? What is it?”

“You’re…” Lance points a finger. “You’re smiling.”

Keith deadpans, turning his head to stare at Lance for a solid three seconds before he laughs, shaking his head. “You’re such a prick.” On the last word, Keith reaches his arm out and shoves at Lance’s shoulder, setting Lance off balance for only a moment as giggles bubble up his chest.

But then he halts. Keith doesn’t seem to notice, too busy pulling the car over on the side of the road. And Lance is frozen. Because that was a shoulder shove. A Keith Kogane Shoulder Shove, Keith’s number one flirt move when he’s joking around with virtually any guy he thinks is even moderately attractive. And he just….

“Alright, you seem awake enough to drive now,” Keith says absently, throwing his truck in park before slipping out of the driver’s seat.

But Lance is frozen. There is no way Keith was flirting with him, right? But… The Shoulder Shove.

“Yo…” Lance turns his head to see Keith holding the passenger door open. “C’mon, Chinese fire drill. Rapido, por favor.”

Rather than point out how Keith just butchered that pronunciation, Lance undoes his seatbelt whilst pondering life as he knows it.

#klance #voltron #voltron fanfic #klance fanfic #my writing

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gynecic-arbitrator · 8 years

Text

-- circuitousGrievance [CG] began pestering gynecicArbitrator [GA] at 22:35 --

CG: I kn9w the last thing y9u pr9bably want t9 think a69ut after all these weeks is any t9pic t9 d9 with children, 6ut I have an inquiry if y9u kn9w if s9me9ne has claimed cust9dy 9f Lifera and Davenf9rth's wriggler.

GA: Oh. It's fine, Kankri.

GA: Derek came by and picked her up. She's been staying with him and Riley fo+r no+w.

CG: That is g99d, I supp9se I just wanted t9 6e certain s9me9ne has taken her in.

GA: Yeah. I sho+uld have let yo+u kno+w. That's my bad.

GA: She's fine.

GA: But o+f co+urse, this is the part where I ask ho+w yo+u're do+ing.

CG: It is alright, it w9uld n9t exactly 6e y9ur resp9nsi6lity t9 d9 s9.

CG: And I am 9kay given the circumstances 9f the recent murder 9f my previ9us caretaker.

GA: That's...

GA: Definitely o+ne way to+ put that.

CG: Well it is the straight f9rward way 9f saying it.

GA: I'm no+t go+ing to+ pry abo+ut it. I kno+w we've been do+wn this ro+ad befo+re... As unfo+rtunate as that is.

GA: Just kno+w I'm really so+rry, Kankri. And if yo+u need to+ talk, I'm here.

CG: The 9ffer is legitmately appreciated, and my decline 9f it has little t9 d9 with it 6eing y9u, just s9 y9u kn9w. I supp9se I just d9n't feel much like discussing the situati9n in depth with any9ne given that I have already 6een d9wn that line 9f th9ught, the 9nly difference this time really is that there is actual pr99f she is g9ne.

GA: That's perfectly understandable.

GA: Maybe it'd be better to+ o+ffer my co+mpany?

CG: I w9uld 6e willing t9 accept that s9 l9ng as y9u f9und mine t9llera6le.

GA: I think I can manage it.

CG: Then simply inf9rm me when y9u w9uld wish t9 meet up t9gether.

GA: Is no+w a go+o+d time?

CG: Yes, it can 6e.

GA: Okay. Then I'm co+ming o+ver.

CG: Kn9ck whenever y9u arrive.

PORRIM: *that's a curious way of putting that. knocking pretty much goes without saying. does it imply that she could come in if she didn't knock? is his door unlocked? she's tempted to try, but kankri makes such a fuss about his personal space, and she isn't about to push his buttons right now... so she knocks.*

KANKRI: *Of course he wouldnt keep it unlocked, he doesnt want anyone just barging into his room. Porrim doesnt wait long after knocking because Kankri is there to promptly answer the door. He looks tired, but other then that no obvious signs of distress.* Y9u made it here rather quickly.

KANKRI: It is nice t9 see y9u th9ugh, P9rrim. *He is standing aside to let her pass.*

PORRIM: *tired makes sense... most everyone was tired, and the time to relax with each other was now. she'd been doing a lot of that with mituna, when she wasn't still helping with kids.* I was just eager to+ hang o+ut, I guess.

PORRIM: *snorts a little about the formalities from kankri. it's always amusing, honestly. she walks past him, making herself at home.* I'm glad yo+u're safe.

KANKRI: That sentiment is 9ne I share in regards t9 y9u. *He shuts the door behind her and then crosses over to sit on his couch where she is welcomed to join him. The room is clean, and organized, he had made sure it was before she came over.*

PORRIM: *smiles softly, taking a seat beside him... probably closer then he'd like her to, but oh well. watch her do it anyway.*

KANKRI: *He wont comment on it, hes done isolating himself and can't bring himself to care about her proximity to him. He briefly side eyes her though.* S9.

KANKRI: Y9u spent quite a l9ng stretch 9f time playing gr9up infant caretaker, that must have 6een an experience.

PORRIM: *she lets out the DEEPEST SIGH at the mention of it, leaning back into the couch.* That's an understatement.

PORRIM: Do+n't get me wro+ng, I lo+ve these kids to+ death... But I o+nly have /so+/ much patience. That's a damn go+o+d thing I never stuck aro+und the bro+o+ding caverns. *laughs a little.*

KANKRI: Evidently s9. Quite frankly I'm amazed y9u are still standing, 6ut perhaps that is skewed 6y my pers9nal 9pini9n and relati9n with any and every infant I've ever enc9untered. That is t9 say, a negative situati9n.

PORRIM: *snickers* Do+n't wo+rry. It's quite a feat even when yo+u have a go+o+d relatio+nship with kids.

PORRIM: No+t to+ to+o+t my o+wn ho+rn, o+f co+urse. I'm just as amazed as yo+u are.

KANKRI: D9 y9u feel as th9ugh y9u are, at the very least temp9rarily, d9ne with managing large gr9ups 9f children? N9 9ne w9uld fault y9u f9r needing a 6reak.

PORRIM: *hums a little, looking thoughtful.* Fo+r the mo+st part, yeah. But so+me parents need help after everything that's happened, so+... I do+n't mind helping o+ut there. *she is worried about dirk and jake, but they have a big family so maybe they won't need her...*

KANKRI: 9h, right, that is true... *Once more he's reminded of the other lives they lost and he frowns for a moment before recomposing himself.* I'm sure there are many wh9 will appreciate that.

PORRIM: *nods slowly as she turns the knowledge around in her head as well* Yeah.

PORRIM: We have to+ lo+o+k after each o+ther.

KANKRI: *He sighs and leans against the back of the couch.* Yes, that feels quite evident n9w m9re then ever.

PORRIM: *turns her head to look at him, quiet for a good long moment.*

PORRIM: Kankri?

PORRIM: ... I kno+w we do+n't always get alo+ng...

PORRIM: But I'm glad yo+u're here.

KANKRI: That is true, we d9 n9t r9utinely see eye t9 eye 9n quite a few things, h9wever I d9 c9nsider y9u a friend and I find 9ur aquaintence t9 6e enj9ya6le.... *Side eyes her again.* Why the sudden c9nfessi9n?

PORRIM: *rolls her eyes, but she didn't expect anything different.* I just tho+ught yo+u sho+uld kno+w.

KANKRI: *Then why did she roll her eyes, HUH. He just can't help be difficult with her.* Then that is very kind 9f y9u and I appreciate it.

PORRIM: Sure thing, Kankri. *shakes her head a little, but she manages a smile anyway.*

PORRIM: Hey. We sho+uld watch a mo+vie o+r so+mething.

KANKRI: Certainly, d9 y9u have a preference t9 a genre, 9r a particular title in mind? Y9u are well aware 9f the vastness 9f my c9llecti9n, I'm certain y9u c9uld name alm9st any decent m9vie and I w9uld have it.

PORRIM: Let's watch so+mething light. I'll take any ro+mances that yo+u have. *so long as they're good*

KANKRI: Hmm. Well my taste in m9st r9mances is limited, 6ut I d9 have 9ne classic in mind that I have n9t watched in quite s9me time. 9ne m9ment, please. *He then gets up and goes to retrieve his husktop from the desk, quickly scrolling through his files even as he walks back over. By the time he sets the computer down on the small table in front of them all he has to do is press play and the title credits for Twilight are playing.* N9w I realize this is very inc9rrect and 9ff the mark fr9m rain69w drinker culture, h9wever the n9ti9n 9f the different su6set 9f human "Vampires" are a slightly interesting t9pic l99king at it fr9m a myth9s stand p9int given that there are s9 many tradit9nal earth renditi9ns 9f the same percieved creature. 9n t9p 9f that this m9vie als9 c9ntains references t9 "werew9lf" animagus legends that are als9 rather interesting.

PORRIM: *oh sweet jesus... not twilight... this is basically the worst, most cliched drivel, and not to mention offensive to women... and yet, she too was once young and infatuated by vampire romance media. damn...*

PORRIM: ... Yeah, this'll do+.

KANKRI: *Lets just all be honest with ourselves, there has been at least ONE moment in all our lives in which we genuinely thought twilight was not bad.* I'm glad y9u appr9ve.

KANKRI: *He makes himself comfortable on the couch for this film.*

#circuitousgrievance #in which we have to be there for each other

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kekepuaa · 8 years

Text

Ladyblogging, part two

Summary: in which marinette realizes that the internet is a lot smarter than she thought and that the only way to protect her identity is to join the ranks. identity reveal. adrienette.

Notes: High-key bowled over by the positive responses I’ve received :’) Thank you for all the love!

part two: soundtrack snobs [Previous][AO3]

Ladybug Unknown, Paris, France.

Join date: 2016-04-16

Ladybug’s Official Blog.

F.A.Q.

1.) Is this really Ladybug? It says official for a reason.

2.) Does Chat Noir have a blog? Probably.

3.) Who are you? I am Ladybug.

4.) Can I send you LadyNoir fanart/fics? While I appreciate the support, I’d rather not see it.

5.) Are you single? Probably.

6.) Are you ever going to tell us your secret identity? They’re called secret identities for a reason c:

7.) Do you have a Twitter/IG/FB? Ladybug does not, no.

Marinette DC @littlestutterbug 645 Followers//210 Following

Marinette DC @littlestutterbug [IMAGE] I haven’t slept in three days but tHIS DESIGN NEEDED TO BE DONE HAHAHAHA #fashiondesign

Alya C. and 42 others liked your Tweet WALK WALK FASHION BABY and 14 others Retweeted your Tweet

Adrien Agreste in reply to Marinette DC @littlestutterbug wow marinette! that looks fantastic! :-)

Marinette DC in reply to Adrien Agreste @adrienagreste Thanks, Adrien :D

It wasn’t the first time Adrien had tweeted to Marinette, but God, every time he did, the girl felt like she was walking on clouds. It was like clockwork: one sleepy Marinette posts a barely-finished design idea, people like it, Adrien tweets her, and Marinette inevitably spends the next twenty minutes waltzing around her room and sending incoherent texts to Alya.

“He said it looks fantastic, Tikki!” Marinette cried, side-stepping a small pile of fabric scraps, “Adrien said my drawing looks fantastic.”

“Yes, Marinette. I was there, remember?”

“But Tikki! This is Adrien!” Tikki could hardly keep her amused snorts down, eyeing her starry-eyed charge as she continued to dance in her room. The last time something like this had happened, Tikki was napping and was rudely awoken by Marinette’s shrieks of unbridled joy.

Sometimes, it was hard for the kwami to make the distinction between her lovable (but still flighty and just a little Adrien-crazed) Marinette and her lovable, brave, and still flighty and just a little Adrien-crazed Ladybug. The girl wasn’t particularly talented at keeping her feelings for the boy at bay when she was on the job, luckily, she hardly ever sees him in the midst of an akuma attack.

And speaking of keeping her feelings for Adrien under wraps while still transformed.

“Marinette, are you sure this whole blogging business is a good idea?” Tikki hadn’t been able to voice her concerns before, as she was sucked up into the earrings before she could even make sense of what Marinette was doing.

All Tikki knew was that Ladybug had an Official Blog that was run by Ladybug herself.

Tikki wasn’t too sure if this was a good idea.

“It’ll be fine, Tikki!” Marinette reassured, lazily waving her hand at her kwami, “It’s not like I’ll be posting selfies regularly.”

“Last night, you transformed for the sole purpose of taking a selfie,” Tikki deadpanned.

“Details!” Marinette said, “It was for proof that this blog belongs to Ladybug. I won’t make a habit out of it, I promise.”

Tikki knew Marinette, and while she did trust her to protect Paris on the regular from the one particular jewelry-obsessed villain, she wasn’t sure that Marinette would be able to run and blog and not give out too much information. But if Marinette said that it’d be okay, then she really had no other option but to have faith in her charge.

After all, what’s the worse thing that could possibly happen?

Ladybug Posted: 2016-04-22

Subject: Blogging for Dummies

Hello, all. Lovely day we’re having, no? Well at least, it’s nice where I live. If you live somewhere where the sun isn’t shining or its gloomy/snowing/raining, then I’m sending some positive vibes your way.

It’s been a few days since I’ve joined this blogging platform thing and I find myself at a disadvantage: what could a superhero possibly blog about without giving out too much information about herself. I’m sure Chat Noir is dying to fuss at me for creating this blog, but I’ll take care of that when the time comes LOL.

Provided that someone gets akumatized and I am forced to take a break from my totally normal life as a Parisian adolescent (you already knew that) and resume my role as Ladybug.

I’m just ranting at this point, honestly.

I just wanted to give an update, say hey, and ask what am I supposed to be talking about on a blog that isn’t too revealing :’)

-LB

Comments:

Response to Blogging for Dummies Posted: 2016-04-22 Subject: WELCOME TO THE THUNDERDOME

bugab00: HI LADYBUG! I LOVE YOU! Maybe you should blog about things you like? I’m sure there are plenty of people who have the same hobbies as you.

Response to Blogging for Dummies Posted: 2016-04-22 Subject: SCHEMING.

yoyomaster12: Did the Ladyblog put you up to this???? Or IS this the Ladyblog??

Response to SCHEMING. Posted: 2016-04-22 Subject: Ain’t nobody got time for that

The Ladyblog: LMAO. Yeah, no. Also, LB: blog about whatever you want. That’s the beauty of it. People talk about their interests; topics that they could talk about for days.

Response to Blogging for Dummies Posted: 2016-04-22 Subject: (no subject)

chatblanc: You could talk about what you and Chat do while you’re doing your patrols or your akuma battles...that way, you won’t put yourself in any compromising position...or you could give little snippets about your day to day life?

Response to (no subject) Posted: 2016-04-22 Subject: POR QUE NO LOS DOS?

The Ladyblog: I second what chatblanc is saying here!

Response to (no subject) Posted: 2016-04-22 Subject: If I had a hat, I’d tip it to that. Stay tuned! Ladybug: :-)

Alya C. @theladyblogger #LADYBUG HAS A BLOG!!! AND I ACTUALLY TALKED TO HER ON IT!!!! [LINK]

LADYBUGGING TF OUT and 32 others liked your Tweet ChatNoirLuver12 and 4 others Retweeted your Tweet

Adrien Agreste in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger Do you really think it’s her?

Alya C. in reply to Adrien Agreste @adrienagreste I’m p sure its her. Though, we can never be 100% positive. Maybe she’ll blog about patrolling.

Chloe Bourgeois in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger @adrienagreste LOL she’s probably a fake trying to get everyone’s attention (1/2)

Chloe Bourgeois in reply to Alya C. @theladyblogger @adrienagreste in that way, her blog kinda reminds me of yours, alya (2/2)

Alya C. in reply to Chloe Bourgeois @queenbee @adrienagreste LMAO DID WE ASK U?

Ladybug Posted: 2016-04-23

Subject: Quasimodo deserved better

[Photo]

Isn’t the Seine gorgeous at this time of the day? I don’t get to come here often with my schedule, but when I do...it’s probably my favorite place to think by myself.

Oh! Greetings from Notre-Dame!

Fun fact: The Hunchback of Notre Dame is one of my favorite Disney movies (though if we’re being real here, the actual book is downright depressing.) Anyway, I spent the afternoon binging Disney movies and took a break after the Hunchback of Notre Dame to get some air.

It got me thinking: Do you ever think about the semi-adult themes that older Disney films used to have?

You’re not going to see some creepy old man exploiting his power to force himself on a woman in a Disney movie these days. Not that I’m asking for it, I’m just saying that it’s crazy how much Disney films have changed. Ahh, I wish I could listen to the Hunchback of Notre Dame soundtrack right now, but y’know...

...it’s probably not safe to swing around Paris on a yoyo, especially from this height.

I should probably go back to do some homework (the perks of still being in school...I’m being sarcastic), but this spectacular view beckons me :’)

As a side note/closing: What’s your favorite Disney movie? Because I’m genuinely curious and I feel like the Hunchback of Notre Dame is slept on and it’s an injustice.

-LB

Comments:

Response to Quasimodo deserved better Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: Have you watched the sequel? Ugh. Garbage.

ladynoirTRASH: Would I be a biased Parisian if I said that I loved Beauty and the Beast?

Response to Have you watched the sequel? Ugh. Garbage. Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: YEAH THE SEQUEL DOESN’T EXIST

Ladyboogieoogieoogie: Gaston is literally the only reason why I love that movie. He’s so ridiculous lol. Are you gonna watch the live action?

Response to YEAH THE SEQUEL DOESN’T EXIST Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: why are sequels even a thing lmfao

ladynoirTRASH: SKLDFAJASLKDFJJSA DUUUDEEEE. so hypeeeeddddd for the liveaction!!!!!!

Response to Quasimodo deserved better Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: ANYONE CAN COOK

rainbowquartz: ......i’m a parisian...whose favorite disney movie.....is...ratatouille....ehehehe.........

Response to Quasimodo deserved better Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: TOPSY TURVY IS THE BEST SONG ON THE SOUNDTRACK

chatblanc: The Aristocats is hands down the best Disney movie ever. I’ll fight you on this, Ladybug.

Response to TOPSY TURVY IS THE BEST SONG ON THE SOUNDTRACK Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: are we not gonna talk about god help the outcasts? because...

Ladybug: Judging by your username, I’m not surprised.

Response to are we not gonna talk about god help the outcasts? because... Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: Nah. Topsy Turvy tops. chatblanc: everybody wants to be a cat~~~

Response to Nah. Topsy Turvy tops. Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: BLOCKT Ladybug: Ugh have you been talking to Chat Noir?

Response to BLOCKT Posted: 2016-04-23 Subject: The truth will set you free chatblanc: Wouldn’t you like to know, LB? ;)

“Marinette, apparently Ladybug has the same favorite Disney movie as you!” Alya said the next afternoon. The best friends had taken their usual seats in their classroom, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

“O-Oh?” Marinette said, mentally slapping herself for stuttering. She made an attempt at appearing indifferent, taking her time to big through her bag for her books, “She likes Mulan?”

(To be fair, Mulan was tied for first place with the Hunchback of Notre Dame, but Marinette didn’t need to elaborate on that.)

Alya cast her best friend a strange glance, “No, she likes the Hunchback of Notre Dame! That’s your favorite Disney movie...”

Ever the bad improviser, Marinette unconvincingly shrugged and dropped her things on her desk, “That’s cool, I guess.”

So convincing, Marinette she scolded herself. Marinette felt that should have seen this coming. Every little detail she’d release on her blog, she’d be forced to listen to everyone gush about it until the end of eternity. And, worst of all, if she wasn’t careful, people would start tallying up the similarities between her and Ladybug.

Movies were one thing--what if she let it slip that she was really a student whose name totally wasn’t Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The logical part of her brain that had yet to short circuit denied the possibilities of this happening, but that still didn’t stop Marinette from scolding herself.

She let out a frustrated huff and dropped her elbows on her desk, rattling the surface and sending one of her pencils over the edge, hitting the floor with a loud clatter.

The noise seemed to attract the attention of Adrien, who at this point, she hadn’t noticed was in the classroom since she was preoccupied with her own internal monologue. She flushed bright pink as Adrien bent down, collected her pencil, and returned it to her desk with a bright smile.

“Ah, thank you very much!” she squeaked.

“It’s no problem, Marinette,” Adrien replied. Instead of turning back to the front, Adrien alarmed her by leaning forward, momentarily catching her off guard with the green of his eyes. He tilted his head and continued to beam at her, “So, did I hear that right? Your favorite movie’s the Hunchback of Notre Dame?”

“Yeah, mmhmm, I sure do love the Hunchback of Notre Dame! It’s great, like you!” she shook her head, “I-I mean, it’s great! It’s a good movie. Yeah!”

“I agree!” Adrien said, “What’s your favorite song from the soundtrack? I’m quite partial to Topsy Turvy.”

Alya scoffed, “Oh, do not get Marinette started on that. She’ll literally fight anyone who says anything other than God Help the Outcasts.”

“Is that true, Marinette?” Adrien asked, suddenly amused.

Marinette’s throat felt dry. She didn’t trust herself to speak, as the last part of her brain had just about short circuited from receiving so much attention from Adrien. She quietly nodded.

Chuckling, Adrien turned back around towards the front, just as the teacher walked in, leaving Marinette to her own thoughts. Ignoring Alya’s smug look, Marinette cracked open a textbook and buried her face in it, where she remained the entire lesson.

Ladybug Posted: 2016-04-25

Subject: First of all, how dare you?

You know those people who can probably make whole civilizations crumble under the weight of their stare while remaining completely oblivious to their True Power?

Yeah. The absolute W O R S T.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just gonna go crawl under a rock and die.

-Resident Human Disaster LB

Comments:

Response to First of all, how dare you? Posted: 2016-04-25 Subject: Y’KNOW IF I DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I’D SAY YOU WERE IN LOVE

chatblanc: I’m 99.9% sure you have the same effect on people.

Response to Y’KNOW IF I DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I’D SAY YOU WERE IN LOVE Posted: 2016-04-25 Subject: Bite your tongue, stranger internet cat

Ladybug: I’m 99.9% sure that YOU’RE A LIAR

Response to Bite your tongue, stranger internet cat Posted: 2016-04-25 Subject: Denial isn’t cute, LB

chatblanc: you really think someone would do that, just go on the internet and tell lies?

Response to Denial isn’t cute, LB Posted: 2016-04-25 Subject: YEAH, WELL NEITHER ARE LIARS

Ladybug: GET YOUR GARBAGE MEMES OFF MY BLOG OMG

#my fic #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #ladynoir #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir

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