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justfandomwritings · 2 years

Note

I have been devouring your content for the past few days and let me say: your writing is absolutely AMAZING! The way you write Jake is just chefs kiss. Jake and Addie are my new OTP

That said, I have read everything you have written about these two, the fic and all the OTP questions as well. But I have this very specific itch that will not leave me alone which you kind of touched on in one of your asks. What do you think Addie would be like if Jake got into an accident while flying? Nothing major obvs, but maybe a really bad scare?

No Callsigns

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader (Addie)

Word Count: 3.1k (Idk how that happened)

Warnings: whole thing takes place in a hospital, panic attack, character is seriously injured but the injuries are not described in any way, some light angst but with a happy ending

Notes: I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but this little scene has been playing around in my head for a long time. This is Addie reacting to Jake being injured, but it's not really an angst heavy introspective of how it makes her feel. It's more how it would play out.

This is a prequel to The Only Thing, but it can be read without reading the only thing. This story takes place before Jake goes to Top Gun the first time as a student but after he becomes a pilot.... Also Featuring Iceman and Coyote because why not.

“Seresin residence, you’ve got Addie.” Addie tucked the phone between her cheek and her shoulder to free up her hands as she turned back to the sauce bubbling away on the stove.

It was Thursday night. Thursday night meant family dinner in the Seresin household, and the girls, Addie included, took turns rotating who cooked. Normally, it would’ve been Ronnie’s turn, but she was back in Austin studying for an organic chemistry final. Which meant it should’ve been Andy’s turn, only Andy was off in New York at a high school friend’s bachelorette party. Which meant it should’ve been Debbie if not for the fact that Debbie’s sister was in town and demanded the two go to the city for the night.

Kate had offered to order the two of them Chinese food so neither had to cook, but Addie had been perusing the Seresin family recipes again and decided it was time to try her hand at Debbie’s world – or at least county – famous marinara sauce.

Things were shaping up quite nicely before the phone began to ring.

“This is Admiral Tom Kazansky, US Pacific Fleet Commander. I’m calling to speak to Miss Debbie Seresin.”

Addie’s back straightened involuntarily. The wooden spoon in her hand slipped lower in the sauce as her grip on it loosened.

“She’s not in at the moment...” Addie didn’t really know what to say. “Can-Can I take a message?”

There was a quiet sigh on the other end of the phone. So quiet she almost missed it. So quiet she almost missed the melancholy coloring its’ tone. “Unfortunately not. Do you know how long until she’ll be back?”

The man’s voice didn’t turn up at the end the way one normally would to indicate a question. It stayed flat and even, like he didn’t have the energy to raise his voice, or perhaps more likely that the words were too heavy, too weighed down to be lifted up in any way.

“W-What happened to Jake?”

It wasn’t a question she was supposed to ask. Addie knew that. She’d had that talk with Jake before.

If something happened to him, she would have to find out from Debbie. The Navy didn’t exactly recognize ‘besties’ as a category for immediate disclosure. If he got hurt… or worse, the Navy would call his mom until he had a wife or kids.

“Pardon?” The high-ranking admiral on the other end of the line was, no doubt, not used to being questioned.

Addie wasn’t supposed to ask, wasn’t supposed to cause a scene, wasn’t supposed to stick her nose in. Jake had made it very clear that, much as he wanted them to tell her, much as he didn’t want her to find out second hand or have to wait for news, much as he loved her, the Navy would make her wait. She would have to wait, not on him, never on him, but certainly on them.

But Addie couldn’t help it. When Jake told her all those things, told her that if she ever got a call she would have to get ahold of his mom, told her that she shouldn’t barrage whoever called with questions, told her that she would have to get any news after the fact, told her to be on her best behavior if something really bad ever happened and someone important made the call… When he told her that, he’d never been on the receiving end.

He’d never felt his throat close up knowing that best case scenario she was in an ICU bed somewhere. He’d never gone weak in the knees when someone told him they could neither confirm nor deny that she was dead. He’d never spent hours waiting by a phone with the news blasting over loud speakers knowing she was going into a combat zone where she could be killed any second, knowing the six o’clock news might be told before him.

Jake had never gotten a phone call from someone telling him she was dead or dying, and he would never have to worry about getting that phone call, not really. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if their roles were reversed he would be so much worse.

“You’re a Fleet Commander; you wouldn’t be calling un-unless some-something really bad happened to Jake.” She felt out of breath, like she’d run a mile. Maybe it was the way her throat felt like she was breathing through a straw.

“Ma’am I’m not at liberty to discuss that with anyone other than Lieutenant Seresin’s next of kin.”

There was a loud crack followed by the sound of breaking glass. The salad bowl, balanced on the kitchen island behind her toppled to the ground and shattered as she stumbled back.

Next of kin. He was looking for Jake’s next of kin.

Addie gasped for air. “Is he alive?” Her words came out in a pant.

“Ma’am…”

She didn’t hear any more than that as Kate burst into the room.

“Addie, what’s…”

Addie was hyperventilating now. A hand on the island behind her, gripping the granite so hard her nails were cracking under the pressure, was all that kept her from sinking to the ground, unintentionally kneeling in the shattered glass around her.

Her hand pulled the phone away from her ear and waved it blindly in Kate’s direction as she desperately tried to catch her breath, tried to steady her shaking legs, tried to calm herself down.

“Who is this?” Kate’s tone was demanding, accusatory as she snatched the phone away from Addie. There was a brief pause as Kate’s face contorted. She clearly wasn’t getting the answer she wanted, or an answer at all.

“This is his sister, Kate. Now tell me who is calling, and why does Addie look like she’s having a panic attack?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Addie?”

Addie’s head jerked up at the sound of the name.

It was a pilot calling her. She recognized him immediately. One of Jake’s friends, the only Navy friend of Jake’s she’d met so far.

“Coyote, right?”

Coyote nodded and crossed the room in long, sure strides to stand beside her chair. There were seats open all around her, but he didn’t make a move to occupy any of them. He stood, feet shoulder-width apart, hands tucked behind his back. There was no rocking or shifting to his stance like there would’ve been a civilians, no pacing or show of emotions. He was soldier.

“Your Jake’s wingman?” Addie pulled her legs up into the seat with her, hugging them against her chest as she stared up at the man standing over her.

“Yes ma’am,” Coyote wasn’t looking down at her. He was looking straight ahead at some unknown point on the waiting room wall.

“Please don’t call me ma’am. You can call me (Y/n), or Addie, whatever you prefer.” Addie sighed, slumping back in the chair to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m not old enough to be called ma’am. Jake calls me ma’am when he says I’m being a buzzkill.”

“From the stories Jake tells me, ma’am, that can’t be often.”

Addie’s eyes flashed back from the ceiling, just for a second, to see the corner of Coyote’s lips tugging up. He suppressed it well, but the amusement was still there. “You’re not much of a buzzkill either from what he tells me.”

“I try not to be.”

There was an amicable silence for several long moments. Coyote standing vigilant, staring at the wall behind her head, Addie tracing patterns in the ceiling with her eyes.

It was Coyote who broke it. “Are they… not allowing visitors yet?”

“They let his mom and Kate back about ten minutes before you got here.” Addie quickly corrected. “Two at a time. I let them go first.”

“Would you mind if I came in with you?” Coyote’s tone was constantly polite, deferential. It fit with the military man she knew he was, but she couldn’t reckon it with the stories Jake told her about his friend who seemed like absolute mayhem. “I know you’ll want some time alone with him. I’ll only need a minute. I just need…”

Coyote’s voice fell away, choked on a word Addie wasn’t sure which. It drew her eyes back from the ceiling, tilting her neck down to a more reasonable angle to look at his face.

Coyote’s gaze finally left the wall. It was like watching him pull himself together, draw up the courage to meet her gaze not that that made any sense. “It’ll only take a minute. I need to thank him, ma’am.”

“Thank him? What for?”

Coyote visibly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, but he made no other display of emotion even as he said, “Because, ma’am, I would be dead right now if he weren’t in that bed.”

A dawning realization crossed Addie, her jaw going slightly slack. “The medal… You’re the pilot he...”

“Yes ma’am.”

Addie gave a thoughtful nod. Much as it hurt her, pained her, filled her with overwhelming dread to think of Jake lying cooped up in a hospital bed, Commander what’s-his-name had painted a marvelous tale of heroism for Debbie once she finally returned home, and he told her the story.

And now she had a face and a name to put to the ‘fellow aviator’ whose life Jake had saved. A face she knew, a name she liked, a nice guy with his whole future ahead of him because of Jake’s skill and sacrifice.

“Of course,” Addie choked out, “you’re welcome to come in with me.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Coyote’s head turned back up to face the wall. He was only staring at it, and she was only staring at him, for a minute more before the doors behind him swung open.

“Addie, sweetie,” Debbie crossed the room in a flash of worry seeing yet another Navy uniform standing in front of one of ‘her own’.

“Debbie, this is Coyote,” Addie jumped straight to introductions even before she made it to her feet. “He’s going to come inside with me to see Jake for a minute if that’s alright. He is Jake’s wingman.”

Kate approached behind her mother, sticking out her hand to the aviator, “It’s Javy, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Debbie hugged Addie, ignoring Kate as she seemed ready to vet Coyote before allowing him entrance. “He’s doing a lot better than he looks,” Debbie whispered in Addie’s ear, hiding her voice in the tones of Kate and Coyote’s polite small talk in the background. “Really, the doctors say he’ll be his usual handsome self in no time and back to flying in a couple months. Don’t worry yourself to death, okay sweetie?”

“I’ll try not to.” Addie’s tone was as clipped as she felt.

Debbie pulled out of the hug and jerked her head towards the door. “Get on in there; you look like you’re barely stayin’ in your skin you wanna leave so bad.”

Addie nodded. She clearly wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the fact that she was ready to bolt.

“They made Jake sign a couple waivers for you,” Kate added before Addie could leave. “But it should all be sorted out now. They all know you’re staying the night and to talk to you.”

“Thanks Kate.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jake,” Addie’s voice broke on his name as she froze in the doorway.

‘He’s doing a lot better than he looks.’

He didn’t look good.

Hospital gown slung low around his neck with wires running down under the fabric, needles poking from IV bags into one arm, head lulled back against a pile of uncomfortable looking pillows, an oxygen mask hanging loose around his neck, and a bag partially filled with what could only be urine connected to a tube that ran up under his thick pile of blankets.

The air was filled with the smell of chemicals and the constant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Addie,” Jake croaked out. His voice was rough, deep and crackling as if he’d been screaming nonstop for days which she knew he hadn’t.

Addie couldn’t help it. She flung herself across the room to his bedside. She’d not said a word about waiting for Debbie to get back from the city to find out what had happened. She’d not said a word while they waited in the airport for the first plane out to the base. She’d not said a word waiting for the taxi to the hospital. She’d even held herself back to let his family see him, knowing she wouldn’t be able to leave once she was in the room.

But now that she was in the room she couldn’t hold herself back. She balanced herself on the free inch of space at the edge of his bed and gave in to the absolute panic and desperation that had been warring quietly inside of her since the moment she managed to swallow them down in his family’s kitchen.

One of her hands reached across his body and clutched his left hand in a vice grip. It was almost the only inch of skin free of any signs of what happened. Her other went straight to his cheek, cupping it in her hand as the tears finally began to fall.

“When that admiral called I thought for sure you were dead.” She didn’t sob. Her voice was soft, calm, and unwavering even despite the tears. “I was so scared. I broke your mom’s favorite bowl. I couldn’t form a sentence; Kate thought I was in shock.”

Jake sighed and leaned his cheek into her hand. The rough cuts and scratches to the skin there brushed against her palm and reminded her that every part of him would be effected by this in some way. “You’re gonna have to try a little harder if you wanna get rid of me, darlin’.”

Addie smiled through the tears and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss, barely more than a brush of her lips, to his forehead. “Noted, next time I’ll do it myself.”

“I always knew you’d be the death of me.”

Addie chuckled and turned her face into his neck. Her temple brushed against his shoulder, and Jake winced. “Sorry.” She pulled back immediately.

“It’s alright, Addie,” Jake smiled up at her. Even his smile was scarred. His lip split in more than one place along it’s usually silky smooth lines. “Having you here makes up for it.”

“Well in that case, you should know I brought a friend.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Jake tried to laugh but immediately winced at the motion shaking his chest, “I only wanna see you.”

“I know,” Addie conceded easily and without any show of false modesty, “but I think you need to see him too.” Her fingers went to his hair, absently brushing the sweaty, greasy flyaways out of his face as she glanced back over her shoulder.

Coyote stepped in from where he’d been standing in the doorway. Jake’s senses, usually razor sharp, hadn’t so much as gotten a whiff at the other pilot. Whether that was due to his current state or the all-consuming peace that visibly washed over him the moment Addie walked in the room, no one could be sure.

“Hangman, I…”

“You don’t get to call him that here.”

It came out with more bite than Addie meant it to. She hadn’t intended it to have any at all, in fact. She’d only meant to say it matter-of-factly, but the emotions boiling up inside her simply could not be contained when she heard that callsign, that word.

“It’s fine, Addie.”

“No it’s not.” Addie looked to the floor to try to hide the glare that was forming in her eyes, but her words didn’t need an accompanying glare to convey how upset she was. “His name is Jake, and he wouldn’t be here if he hung you out to dry.”

“Addie…” Jake’s tone was placating.

“She’s right,” Coyote cut him off. “I’m sorry… Jake, I came here to thank you not insult you.”

Jake looked up at Coyote, utterly shocked. They were friends, certainly, but no one, not even his friends, had batted an eye when his squadron assigned him his callsign. No one batted an eye using it every day. No one ever questioned if he deserved it.

“You saved my life today, Jake, and I can never repay you for that.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Addie couldn’t lay down with Jake in the hospital bed, much as it would have been both of their preference.

The nurses had spotted her sitting back against the pillows with him in the early evening hours and immediately put a stop to that and any other notions of Addie getting on the bed.

Instead, she’d shuffled the uncomfortable plastic couch in the corner up against the bed in what she was sure was a safety violation but could not have cared less at that moment in time.

The couch was much lower than the bed, but it was close enough that she could curl up and still reach a hand up to hold Jake’s.

“You didn’t have to do that today, Addie.” Jake murmured into the absolute stillness of the night.

The rest of the floor seemed to be asleep, even the beeping of his heart monitor had seemingly faded to a background drone. They were, at that moment, in the silence of the hospital and the darkness of the night, the only two people in the world.

“Yes I did,” Addie countered in a similarly quiet voice.

“Addie, they call me Hangman for a reason.” Jake gently pushed back. “I don’t like to admit it any more than you, but I earned that name. I hang them out to dry in training every day, and if it came down to it in a fight I probably would hang them out then too.”

“You didn’t though,” Addie reminded him quietly. “When the cards were down, you risked your life to save his.”

“And I almost didn’t make it.” Jake didn’t need to remind her of that. The awkward position holding hands through the railing of his bed did a fine job of that. “When I did it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How you met Coyote, how you liked Coyote, how you joked that the two of you would be really good friends one day… and I thought… I thought, ‘I have to go for it.’ For you.”

Addie’s hand tightened her grip on his, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “Well, that’s… morbid.” She propped an elbow on the back of the couch and lifted her head just over the edge of the bed to give Jake a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess I’m just only allowed to meet friends you’d be willing to die for.”

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wingsofhcpe · 3 years

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What kind of YouTube accounts do you think the grishaverse characters would have?

Oh gosh I love these questions! Hehe.

Alina: runs a pet channel with so many cute cats and puppies that she saves from the street and rehomes to loving owners. Has her own pet-products brand, everything is super high quality but also affordable, and she has struck partnerships with many vets and zoos! Harshaw is often a guest on her channels and gives tips on kitty care!

Aleksander: emo metal indie songs. Think Jonathan Young or Violet Orlandi, just edgier. He has a great voice (as we now Binbons does) and he plays the guitar while Ivan is his drummer. Both of them attract people of all genders and ages to their channel, especially Aleks, because he's just so dark and tall and handsome. Ivan has fewer fans since he doesn't like showing his face much, but his fanbase is extremely dedicated.

Fedyor: gaming channel! It's mostly him just getting his ass handed to him in games like CoD and LoL, but his commentary is always hilarious and he keeps all of his swear words appropriate. Never says fuck/damn/shit/etc on camera and never calls anyone an asshole. He substitutes these with "YIKES" "Oh nooo bestie", "that's sad" and, when on multiplayer, "stop asking for heals you barnacle!". Ivan also makes the occasional appearance (which their fanbase is delighted for, the fans just KNEW these two were dating) and he kicks Fedyor's ass if they play 1v1 or carries him throughout the game during co-op. Fedyor loves that uwu.

Genya: makeup and fashion tutorials ALLLL the way. She has such an eye for art and aesthetic, matches colors perfectly and gets so creative with different styles or makeup and outfits. She has her own makeup brand (as in @darbydoo22 's fic!) and hosts many different guests so as to spread diversity (for example, she calls Nina over for larger body types).

Zoya: tea/politics channel but she's actually serious about it, does extensive research and never falls for drama or clickbaits. She swears a lot, but her audience can always rely on her to deliver facts and listen all of her sources and proof. She's also known to have made trolls/haters run crying to their mamas.

Nikolai: runs a monthly Ravkan history podcast! He often invites Zoya to give her view on current events and compare them to similar situations of the past, also providing analysis.

Inej: gymnastics channel! Her tutorials range from easy for beginners to hard enough that may make you break your back. She always looks encouraging, positive and active without overselling it or filling her videos with sponsorships. She also films her acrobatics performances and uploads them to encourage her fans to try new things.

Kaz & Jesper: it's a buzzfeed unsolved channel and im not even kidding. It was Kaz's idea but Jesper tagged along and now it's a mess. Kaz has a deadpan, unimpressed face every time they enter a clearly haunted building and Jesper screams and jumps if he as much as sees a bat. Milo is their channel's mascot and Jesper's emotional support!

Nina & Matthias: they run a cooking channel together, though Matthias is just her helper. It's obvious in every video he's madly in love with her & their banter is hilarious. They have done collabs with Fedyor's channel where they all play cooking simulators or invite Fedyor to help them make traditional Old Ravkan recipes! Ivan has also joined along sometimes, but he looks a bit lost.

Wylan & David: they run a science and chemistry channel together! Wylan also makes crazy experiments such as "dropping 1000°C metal ball into a pool of orange juice!" and David keeps listing facts about why these experiments are usually a terrible idea.

#sparklingrainbowdragon #may have forgotten someone but my brain is cooked also thank u for the asks!!! <333 #heartrender husbands #fivan #darklina #zoyalai #helnik #shadow and bone #the grisha trilogy

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princecharmingmendes · 3 years

Text

Heart by Heart | Chapter I | Raul Mendes

*secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Helloo, this is the first chapter of this series and I'm super excited about it. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. I plan on posting a chapter weekly, which means new chapter every Thursday (and maybe a sneak peak every monday). Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like it as much as I did. I'll stop rambling now, byee. Happy Reading!

masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 3.4K+;

*Warnings: cursing, descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, hostage situation and a whole lot of teasing. Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: July 1st, 2021.

-*-

Raul Mendes was a pain in the ass. Y/N loves him way too much for her own good, but he was a pain in the nonetheless.

He was the only person she knew who could be in a possible life-or-death situation and still make fun of her through their communicators. And sure, that made the whole thing lighter and less scary, and sure, he was the best agent she’s ever met, but damn did he get on her nerves. And Raul always knew how to get her frustrated or squirming, he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. Sure, they’ve been friends for a long time and she should be used to him, but it never got easier. The fact he had a killer smile, the looks of a legit greek god and had this whole tough guy exterior, but secretly had a soft spot for her did not make her case any less complicated.

Y/N and Raul knew each other ever since they’re basically born. Their parents met when they worked together at a company of secret agents, it was only a small corporation back then, and they were known as the best agents at the time. After they retired from field missions and eventually desk jobs, they became only advisers and emergency contacts. But despite that, they kept their friendship going though all the years and that’s how Y/N was introduced to the triplets. They’re always together, doing everything with each other and protecting themselves. And of course she loved Peter and Shawn with her whole heart, they’re like family to her, but Raul was different. Y/N wished it wasn’t, but there are certain things in life you can’t exactly control. Like falling in love with your best friend.

And it’s not like she stood a chance, to be honest. Regardless of his looks, he treated her like she hung the moon and stars on the sky. Sure, he was a tough guy, who rode motorcycles and wore leather jackets, and wouldn’t admit alive that he cried while watching Lion King. But he took care of her when she was upset or having a bad period, he would take her driving around town at midnight on random occasions just because he knew it would make her feel better, and would always be so mindful of everything involving her. And yeah, he teased her endlessly, but it was part of it and in reality, Y/N didn’t mind it that much.

So when they started growing older and decided to follow their parents career, it only made sense they trained their asses off and got the job together. The company their parents worked for grew a lot, a team that was originally formed by 15 agents turned into a massive business, with over 100 employees, doing various functions. Shawn was picked for a more diplomatic field, always in meetings with important people and traveling around the world. Peter became a tech engineer, developing the coolest gadgets and weapons imaginable, something out of Totally Spies! Raul was clearly a field agent, an expert on body combat and weapons, best out of the four when it came to their physical test. And Y/N was the one who guided the operations, the hacker and responsible for strategies, also for the tech part and best sniper out of the three of them.

That made her and Raul an unbeatable team and the best duo ever. Their chemistry on the field was recognized by their bosses on the first week, basically glueing them together for every future mission and it worked. For the company. But it only dug her little crush deeper on Y/N’s heart. And obviously no one knew it. She was a spy for fucks sake, she knew how to lie and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Raul didn’t date, working on this field made everyone’s love life a bit harder than it was already, and he never seemed interested enough in anyone with the same career to have a long lasting relationship with. That didn’t mean there where a lot of people interested, which made Y/N’s heart twist in her chest.

“Sweetheart, you still with me?” Raul’s voice came through her earpiece bringing her back to reality.

“Of course I am, you idiot, I take this job really seriously” Y/N replied rolling her eyes as if she didn’t just daydreamed a bit.

“Oh sorry, doll, didn’t mean to insult you hard working” he chuckled “but could you please check in the corridor number 6, half the team is heading down there right now”

“Sure” she quickly typed on her computer changing cameras really quickly, perks of being Peter’s best friend is that she could usually take extra stuff and the newest gadgets on the market “It’s clear and, by the way, you look pathetic with this glasses”

Raul laughed clearly amused, throwing his middle finger up in the air in the direction of the security camera he found “Oh really? Tell that to Peter, he’s the one who created them”

“Technically their still a prototype, so make sure to let him know”

Raul scoffed playfully as he climbed another set of stairs, the man and woman with him following without questioning, used to his ways of leading “Of course, I’m sure he’ll like to hear your fashion critiques to his million dollar glasses”

“I’ll write it down, now careful, you’re approaching the level where they’re at”

“Sure, mom, I’m always careful” he said in a hushed tone signaling to his teammates to keep quiet and try to find the possible security team they left to watch the hostage.

“Shut up” Y/N said trying to hold back the smile from stretching her lips, already letting the airway team know to be ready to pick them up as they approached their target.

They’re currently in the middle of a mission where they needed to recover another agent who got caught up in an ambush two weeks ago, and now they’re being kept as a hostage. Raul’s leading a team to retrieve the agent as quickly and as silently as they could, two with him and three other on the opposite side to meet halfway. All that while Y/N’s on the under construction building across the street seated among her gear, gun in hand following their every step and guiding them through the camera system and the big windows that other building had. It’s not the worst mission they’ve ever been, no apparent violence or blood bath, just a simple rescue mission, but they still felt a little jittery and always worried about each other’s lives. And through the years, they noticed that their copying mechanism to make this less stressful (at least a tiny bit) was through light banter and jokes. That somehow brought a bit of normality to their very non ordinary job.

Y/N did her best to keep them hidden while they crashed into the building as quietly as possible, trying go unnoticeable since they didn’t have enough munition or people on the tactic team. It would also prevent them from moving the target around or opening fire. And despite the fact Raul kept on trying to joke around and that she’s been doing this for at least four years, the fact that they’re working with a less experienced and fresh out of the academy crew made her a little jittery. Not that she didn’t trust Raul to command everything and boss everyone around if things got messy, she just didn’t want him to get in the middle of a crossfire again.

He had the terrible habit of playing the hero in the most inconvenient times, like when they were little and a guy twice his size, with three friends mocked her pigtails. He didn’t stand a chance, but he went after them anyway. They ended up having to run as fast as they could so they wouldn’t end up with a black eye or something. And that was nothing compared to the stupid shit he could do on field. And Y/N couldn’t be more pissed whenever he came home with more bruises then he should just to play Superman or something. Sure, that was admirable and the fact that he put everyone on his team on his top priority was definitely something fantastic for a captain, but not for Y/N’s heart.

And for that reason, she was always extra careful, but when he had a newbie joining him on the field, Y/N tripled the attention to avoid putting the kid in danger, and, consequently her best friend.

Raul was quick to take down two man on their level without raising much alarm, grabbing their munition, dragging the unconscious bodies away from where they’d be easily seen and moving forward to another set of stairs. He was a very skillful agent, with great physical development and worked great under pressure, with quick thinking and a natural leader. So it didn’t shock her when he was able to do that as if it was the most natural thing in the planet. While Raul was more of a passionate person, Y/N was more rational, was analyzing every possibility and coming up with creative solution, she was also really cold on work (she just had one exception) and was a quick thinker, great person to rely on. It’s almost as if the complimented each other and that’s why it worked. That’s why when she tells him to shoot, he does without thinking, or to jump, he wouldn’t blink before doing it head first.

And that’s why they’re able to reach the hostage without much trouble.

“Told you to chill out, I knew we could make it” he murmured through their coms and she giggled, shaking her head incredulously.

“You should watch the entrances while your teammates take care of the hostage”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart” he said with his infamous smirk stretching his annoyingly pink lips.

Y/N shook her head when she felt her face warming up a bit, stupid boy “Well, actually I’m pretty busy calling for our ride, so watch your own back this time, you’re a big boy, I’m sure you can do it”

Raul scoffed but did as she say either way “fine, are we clear?”

“On your floor yes, climb three more levels and meet me on this side of the street, don’t stall champ, they’re going to notice there’s something wrong with the cameras and their man who aren’t responding, so be quick”

Raul chuckled as he helped balance the hostage on Roman’s arms and signaling them to climb the stairs again “Yes, ma’am, anything to keep you from frowning and scolding my ass”

Y/N rolled her eyes smiling, sighing in relief that half of their mission was done and it went as smoothly as it could have been “Great, now get your ass out of there now, Raul”

The tactic team started moving to the floor they’d have access to jump, and everything was going too smoothly to be true, not even a minor inconvenience. And that was not normal, at all. That’s when Y/N started getting worried.

Everything was great until Seth, from loosing a lot of blood and being severely dehydrated, started loosing his conscious, making Roman’s job a lot more complicated and making everyone move slower. And while that was happening, Y/N saw when one of the guys saw his partners laying limply on the corner of a hallway and finally the pieces clicked. Luckily she was able to caught it quickly enough to be able to mess up their coms, so instead of a dozen men, they’d have to deal with two. She was also quick to let Raul know, so he jumped into action, telling everyone to rush and grabbing Seth’s right side, basically carrying him alongside Roman up the stairwell.

But as they’re almost reaching the door, Raul heard footsteps rather close, rushing Roman up the rest of the way, warning he’d be right behind him, that he was only to be a bit far back so he could hold whoever was coming.

He ran downstairs, quickly blocking the door to the staircase with a fire extinguisher, running all the way upstairs to reach his teammates and jump to go home. But as he had just reached the door, his colleagues waiting for him with their gear (and also his) ready to cross to the other building, he felt the barrel of a gun touching the back of his head. Raul raised his hands in surrender, his teammates staring at him with horror in their eyes as they aimed their guns to whoever was behind him, but he knew they couldn’t do much before he got shot. He also knew they’re too young, apart from Roman and Cara, who were both holding Seth up, they weren’t experienced enough to do something like that. But before the person could pull the trigger, they grunted in pain and Raul felt the barrel slipping away.

He turned around to watch the guy on his back in the floor, clutching to his left ribs, a little pool of blood already forming underneath him and gun long forgotten. Raul looked around to see if it was anyone from this guy’s side or anyone on the stairs, only to be met with silence and a single security camera with the green dot on, meaning Y/N was still in their system. He shook his head in disbelief, dragging the whining man outside of the room, quacking his gun down the stairs and managing to lock the door so they could escape safely.

“Still with me, baby?” Y/N’s voice teased mimicking the way he said it earlier.

Raul shook his head with a smirk on his lips, before moving to where his teammates stood still a bit shocked with all that happened in front of them “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you, sweetheart”

“Alright boys, the helicopters are coming for us, meet you all on the roof in three” Y/N said through the coms for the whole team, quickly shifting to a line only the captain, Raul, could hear “and if you dare be late just to make a big entrance or another dramatic scheme you can think about, I swear to God I’ll leave you behind”

“You wouldn’t dare”

“Try me” Y/N sing sang picking up her stuff and quickly shoving them down in her backpack, gathering the rest in her hands before turning around to climb to the rooftop.

As she climbed the last set of stairs, Y/N saw their helicopters approaching as the seven agents she was waiting for used a special gun to shoot a line to her building, before locking them in place before zip-lining their way to meet her. She helped Seth, the agent that was kept hostage climb up the little wall since he was in a pretty bad shape, throwing his arm across her shoulders and basically dragging him to where they thrown the stair to climb up to the helicopter with the medical team waiting for him. Cara and Roman climbed first since they’re going to report what they saw and assist Seth as best as they could. Roman grabbed him and the rope stair, shouting to pull them up so he could be taken care of.

Raul was the last one to arrive, as always staying behind to insure everyone got there safely and no one would try to kill them or anything. He graciously climbed the all as if it was nothing, pulling the gun from the string and cutting it so no one could follow them up there that quickly. Raul told everyone to climb onto the helicopter and they’re quick to follow his order, only one person stubbornly waiting for him, as always. He held back the relieved smile from stretching across his features, noticing how warm and relaxed he felt only by seeing Y/N standing besides the hope ladder. She looked worried, a frown on her beautiful face and Raul wanted to smooth his fingers over it as if it would ease all of her troubles away.

She nodded as soon as he was close enough, Raul being quick to pick up the heavy backpack she was carrying and leaving the rest to her “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course, Why do you ask?” he knew why she was asking, hell, his heartbeat was still a bit too fast to be normal, and yeah, partially was because he was standing in front of Y/N, but on the other hand he almost got killed. She only arched her brow at him and he sighed in defeat “Of course I am, doll, you know me, I’m always okay”

“That’s what’s scares me the most” she said with a sad chuckle and started climbing the rope ladder to the helicopter and Raul was quick to follow behind.

“Dude, that was insane, I can’t believe you didn’t miss or accidentally shot Raul from across the street!” the youngest guy from the mission shouted as soon as they reached them on the vehicle, Raul closing the door behind them.

Y/N only giggled in response “yeah, a bit crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s because she’s the best, Tommy, but she won’t believe it” Raul said as he sat on one of the vacant seats, waiting for her to join him.

“Oh shut it” she said unable to stop the smile from forming.

They kept on talking about the mission for a while, Tommy and the other two kids who recently joined still high from the adrenaline, but Y/N couldn’t be more worn out and Raul was quick to catch it. He leaned closer to her and she automatically laid her head on his shoulder, a movement that was almost mechanic to both of them. He gently grabbed her hand that was placed on her knee and interlaced their fingers together, letting her play with his hand to pass the time.

Y/N sighed and mumbled after a while, when most of the kids were too distracted to pay attention “Are you really okay? Don’t say that you’re always fine, I mean it”

Raul had mastered the art of the poker face. He could easily be having the worst time of his life, but he would never let it showcase always with a quick sarcastic remark and an easy smirk on his lips, ready to flirt with anyone to distract them from the real problem. Raul was not the best when dealing with feelings and emotions, always thought it was easier to push them away, but Y/N saw right through him. She always did, ever since they were little. After that, he never tried to hide it again from her, always being as honest as he could with her about how he was, and obviously it didn’t always work, but she understood and respected it. It’s not like he needed to say anything for her to know.

But at the same time, she didn’t know that he would always be fine, as long as she was safe and right next to him, the rest didn’t matter.

“I promise you I’m fine, you saved my beautiful ass and we’re going home, I’d say we’re fantastic” he said after a while, pressing a long kiss to the back of their laced hands.

That seemed to be enough to convince Y/N, since she huffed through her nose and let out a tiny giggle, before leaning closer to him and Raul took it as a sign to drape his arm over her shoulder pulling her closer to his chest “your beautiful ass is really annoying, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I do, but you love it anyway” he said with a giggle, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as she just showed him her middle finger, making him laugh even more.

Yeah, he was definitely fine. For now.

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

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piratewithvigor · 3 years

Text

I Have To Bake A Cake?

A small fic based on the above gif and the following recipe.

Assorted delishiousness and panic below

Kane couldn’t deny he was a little nervous. His experience with food had been sorely limited in the past. Hell, he still sometimes found himself eating like there were rats lurking in the shadows to steal what was his. But this wasn’t a case like that.

This was a cake. As ordered by Vince himself. Or at least through a couple dozen people who couldn’t give him a lot more details than the fact that he was supposed to bake a cake for Monday.

Okay, a cake. How hard could it be?

According to the recipes he dug up, very hard.

He was starting to get overwhelmed just by looking over the plethora of options. Every flavour under the sun, and that was just the cake itself. When combined with frostings and fillings and decorations, there were probably more kinds of cake than he’d had tiny pointless arguments with Daniel.

And that didn’t even change the fact that he hadn’t been told what the cake was for. All these recipes online seemed to indicate specific cakes for specific occasions, but what about when he had no occasion? No hints of any kind? What then, Pinterest mommy bloggers??

Even when he did find a recipe that seemed like it would work, it wasn’t like he had the ingredients for it. He and Daniel had made compromises when they moved in together. Kane could eat all the meat he wanted so he could get enough protein in his diet without having to resort to powders that made him gag, but in exchange, he’d put up with Daniel’s vegan substitutes for pretty much anything else. No animal milk and no eggs.

Which seemed to be the two staples for pretty much every recipe.

He was half tempted to just give up, retire and run away to parts unknown to escape the hellish task when a recipe offered itself. A plain chocolate cake. Nothing fancy about it whatsoever. Except for the fact that it offered substitutions. No animal based ingredients of any kind. And even shit he had. If he wasn’t so loyal to Daniel, Kane felt like he could have kissed the mommy blogger in question.

With Kane’s penchant for burning things, he usually left the more delicate cooking to Daniel. Baking was especially out of his wheelhouse, but he wasn’t one to let down whoever needed this cake. Nor whoever was supposed to eat it. It would just take a little remembering where Daniel kept everything in the kitchen and a little learning on the fly. No problem at all.

Step one was to preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Kane liked this recipe already. The little extra heat in the kitchen set him at ease. It was like a nice hug.

The stand mixer, on the other hand, was like a chihuahua on cocaine. It was loud, it was fast, and it made every ingredient he added to the bowl explode in a tiny cloud. Explosions were for the ring; not for a tiny machine that Julia fucking Child could use.

3 cups flour? Poof. 3 cups sugar? Poof. 1 ½ cups cocoa powder? 1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder and salt? 1 tablespoon baking soda? Poof, poof and a relatively underwhelming lesser poof (he later read the recipe more closely and noted that it said a ‘low speed’. Go figure.)

The 1 ½ cups of warm water (warmed literally by hand), ½ cup vegetable oil and 2 teaspoons of vanilla were much less exciting. It was starting to look more like cake batter and less like a slightly murky pile of powder, which set Kane a little more at ease.

But then came the chemistry.

Kane liked chemistry, usually. Liked reading about how different chemicals went together and caused what. The only difference was that he was usually in the wheelhouse of combustions. Making things explode. Making dairy-free buttermilk was not a combustion. And if it was, it wasn’t supposed to be.

He had the choice of 1 ½ cups of almond or soy milk as a substitution to be combined with 2 far-too-delicately added tablespoons of vinegar. The funk coming from the measuring cup within the next few minutes was… interesting to say the least. Not quite “Daniel’s casserole that was basically all sprouts” or “the time Taker wouldn’t say what he had barbecued” funky, but not something pleasant. How it wasn’t going to ruin the cake, Kane wasn’t sure, but the picture in the recipe looked delicious, so he’d have to trust the crazy mommy blogger for the time being.

The egg substitute made a little more sense. Eggs were gooey and yellow and so was the cup of applesauce he added. Plus it smelled a lot better than the buttermilk.

The second beating was a lot less exciting. No added mess onto himself and almost none onto the counter. Once the batter was smooth, all that was left was somehow getting it all into the pans he’d dug out of the cabinet.

Somehow, the sticky, gooey batter was going to have to make the seamless transition between stand mixer (fuck that thing) and pans that would move just out of the incoming dollop of batter like there was some kind of spirit just hanging around to fuck with him. He wouldn’t put it past the spirit. Wasn’t much to do in the afterlife besides fuck with the living.

A quick lighting of the incense stick Taker had given him seemed to do the trick. Or maybe it calmed his nerves and he stopped jostling the pan. Whatever the case, he made the successful transition from bowl to the three 9” pans and only lost a little batter in the process. They might end up a little wonky, but he planned to fix it with some of the vegan frosting Daniel kept in the back of the fridge where he thought Kane wouldn’t know about it (the man would buy and eat frosting for no reason other than to eat it and pretend immediately after that he’d never eaten frosting in his life, regardless of how much was still in his beard).

35 minutes later, the toothpick he stuck into the middle of each pan was coming out completely clean. Hardly even any crumbs.

He was pulling out the pans as he heard the front door open and Daniel walk in.

“Kane, you here?”

“In the kitchen,” he called back, kicking the oven door shut.

“Kitchen? Isn’t it a little early for dinn- what the fuck are you doing?” Daniel asked, blinking a few times as he paused in the doorway.

“Cake?” He’d been feeling certain about it thus far, but hearing Daniel’s confusion led him to wonder if the cake was supposed to be common knowledge.

“What’s the occasion for cake?”

“Dunno. Vince told me to bake it.”

“A cake?”

“Well… yeah, obviously a cake.”

“He told you to bake a cake?”

“He told John, who told Sheamus, who told Kofi, who told Big Show, who told-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that, but what were the actual words?”

“‘On Monday, bake a cake.’”

“This Monday?”

“I think so.”

Daniel took a pause and inhaled deeply. “This Monday, when Raw begins at eight? As in, 8pm?”

It was Kane’s turn to pause and look towards his lover with a furrowed brow. “Are you telling me I spent the afternoon baking a cake that wasn’t actually needed?”

“Looking like it.”

Kane wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or drop kick the cakes. He settled for a scream into one of the throw pillows they kept on the kitchen chairs. One so eerie and heartbreaking that Daniel wasn’t sure if he should even touch Kane or what exactly was going to happen after he lifted his face from the pillow. Whatever he was waiting for, it certainly wasn’t laughter. Or a grin from underneath his mask with his eyes dancing.

“Break out the frosting, Danny boy, we’re eating good tonight.”

#Kane #Kane bakes a cake and stuff happens #Writing #this is total crack fluff #and I'm hungry

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spritewrites · 4 years

Text

Day 5 - Five

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Five & the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 1166

Author’s Note: Sorry that this is a day late! Ben’s fic will be up soon. Once again, huuuge thanks to @anasticklefics for the event, the information can be found here. Enjoy!

When they were kids, the Umbrella Academy didn’t learn many life skills. Or, maybe that’s reductive; they certainly learned how to load an assault rifle, hack into a government computer on eight different systems, or hotwire a jet ski. But when all was said and done, they were four thirty-year-olds and one grumpy sixty-year-old who didn’t know to separate their whites from their darks before they stuck their clothes in the washing machine. Vanya was… appalled might be a good word for it.

Thus, Operation Life Hack began. It was also known as Operation “Oh God, My Siblings Don’t Know A Damn Thing.”

Phase 1 (it needed phases; mission terminology was the best way to get the Umbrella Academy to understand anything) was cleaning. Grace loaned them a lot of the equipment she used, and Vanya showed them how to dilute bleach, remove stains, and wax floors. Diego got the hang of it quickly (it was just a scaled down version of what he did at the gym), but Luther struggled to get to the hard-to-reach places behind furniture. Phase 2 was laundry, which went remarkably well, but Vanya was most nervous for Phase 3: cooking.

The siblings were huddled around the kitchen table, peering over one another’s shoulders at the recipe laid flat before them.

“Okay,” Vanya began, catching their attention. “What do you already know?”

“I can scramble an egg,” Luther offered.

“I can make ramen,” Diego added, not to be outdone. Vanya sighed. Okay, long day it is.

An hour later, five well-meaning superheroes (and one exasperated superhero) were about two-thirds into a three-course meal. Allison had come in knowing how to boil water, but quickly learned that you weren’t supposed to keep the lid on the pot after the pasta started cooking. Similarly, Luther had his giant hands wrapped around the world’s smallest pair of tweezers, carefully picking out pin bones from the fish.

Some of the other siblings were faring slightly better. Turns out, the drugs had given Klaus an affinity for chemistry, and he was elbows-deep in a bowl of biscuit dough at this point. Diego was so adept at knives that he was an unexpected expert at chopping vegetables, dicing the onions and mincing the garlic without ever once cutting himself. (He did shed some tears at the onions, though, which the others made fun of him for.)

Vanya, however, wasn’t paying much attention to them anymore. Her focus was directed at her oldest brother, who was flouring the counter for Klaus. Five wasn’t much of a team player, and on top of that, cooking clearly wasn’t his thing. His brows were knitted firmly, and he kept flinching anytime somebody so much as brushed past him. He already wasn’t used to eating real food, preferring either pure sugar or canned vegetables and spam, and the crowded, chaotic setting of a kitchen wasn’t putting him at ease.

With a sigh, Vanya set down the instructions for the fish and sidled up next to him. He glanced up to acknowledge her approach, but he hid his discomfort behind a wall of concentration. His whole front was covered in flour, so clearly the task needed some focus. Vanya softened at the sight. Operation Life Hack was temporarily put on hold in favor of Operation Make Five Smile.

“You want an apron or something?”

Five rolled his eyes, grabbing a rolling pin from a drawer. “This whole cooking thing is nonsense. Operation Make Life Harder.”

Vanya raised an eyebrow and elbowed his side. “Yeah? What’re you going to do, get a job? Buy food instead?”

“I can just steal it,” he shrugged. “Blink in, blink out. Never know I’m there.”

A laugh escaped her, despite her best efforts. “I thought the whole point of the apocalypse being stopped was that we were avoiding committing crimes.”

“What’s a little petty theft among family?” Five retorted, but he was grinning. Score.

Across the room, Allison let out a yelp as a little bit of hot water splashed out onto her hand. “I’m okay!” she groaned, but the noise had already made Five jump. A handful of flour burst out of the bag he was holding, spilling down his already dusty front. Vanya clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

“Here, you’ve got some – I’ve got it.” She smiled, reaching for him, but Five ducked out of range. His nose wrinkled, and for a second Vanya could see the old man that he really was.

“I can do it,” he grumbled, rubbing at his shirt. The flour smudged, but stubbornly refused to come off.

“No, you’re – here, I can—” Vanya insisted, grabbing the fabric and scrubbing firmly at his stomach. Five’s whole body jerked backwards, stumbling right into Klaus.

“Hey!” his brother protested, shoving Five off and back into Vanya.

Five, for his part, was thoroughly rattled. “I can do it, I said,” he tried again, but Vanya knocked his hands away.

“You can’t get the flour off if you have it all over your hands too, here—” She snatched a wrist and started brushing at it with her shirt sleeve. For the first time, an actual giggle rang through the kitchen.

“S-stop it, you’re t—I can handle it,” he snorted, twitching in her grip. Honestly, he’d forgotten how ticklish he was there – but Vanya hadn’t. She grinned as she dropped her shirt sleeve in favor of scratching at his palm with her fingernails. This time, Five jumped so hard that he nearly toppled over, tugging uselessly at his wrist and falling over himself with giggles.

A presence behind him made him gulp. “Aw, I forgot about that spot,” Klaus teased over his shoulder. “Is this one still bad too?”

Five shrieked and kicked out as the backs of his ribs were attacked with devastating pokes. Vanya tried to keep a grip on his hand, she really did, but the sight of her brother spasming with laughter as he frantically tried to keep his balance was too much for her. She started laughing too, hard, letting his wrist slip out of her grasp. With the loss of that stability, Five finally lost his battle with gravity, slipped away from Klaus, and ended up sprawled on the tile, gasping for air.

When he found the strength to look up, he found his entire family standing over him, not even trying to stifle their laughter. Five wrinkled his nose.

“You’re all assholes.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Diego cried.

“Not yet,” Five sniffed, propping himself up on his elbows and brushing fruitlessly at the flour that still clung to his shirt.

“Actually,” Allison smirked. “You’re right. We haven’t done anything... yet.”

Five’s cleaning efforts stopped short, and he scrambled back – only to run up against Klaus’ knees. “No. No no no, wait—”

Operation Life Hack was largely unsuccessful, and Vanya still ended up scrubbing their dishes more often than not. Still, if she could make her family smile, then that was enough.

#tua #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #ticklish!five #my fics #tickle fic #tua tickle fic week

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niksixx · 4 years

Text

Plus One

Welcome to part 5 of Plus One. We are approaching the end of this mini fic, but do not worry my loves. We still have a few parts left. I hope you enjoy part 5, and please remember to leave comments, reblog, and add tags. It motivates me to continue writing for you all. 💜

Note: Just a reminder, though this fic may seem fast, it takes place over the course of a few months!!

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*Pia’s POV*

Eight bright, colorful beanbags are scattered around the floor in a private room at the back end of the library. It’s quiet, far away from small children who squeal excitedly when they spot their favorite comic book and a good distance away from the college students who gather at the old wooden tables to recite chemistry flashcards in one big study group.

Black coffee and burnt wood is the signature smell of the book club room. Only a few windows are open, allowing just a bit of sunshine and breeze to fill the room. The aura is comforting.

“Okay, everyone,” I say, setting the book in my lap. I believe The Catcher in the Rye is a classic, but various opinions, both positive and negative, have been directed toward the book over the years. Romance is the genre I’ve always been drawn to, fiction or nonfiction, but I can certainly appreciate a coming-of-age novel. “How did we feel about the story?”

Margaret, an elderly woman with curly gray hair and silver glasses, raises her hand timidly. It’s the first time she has volunteered to speak since the start of our club. I give her an encouraging smile, nodding. “I enjoyed it very much, though it was slow at times.”

A small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless. “Thank you Margaret. Would anyone else like to share?”

Shayne, a third-year college student, wiggles his fingers and clears his throat. “I would.” He snaps the book shut with one hand. “The book itself is enjoyable. There’s a lot of important themes that are entwined in the storyline. But Holden, and let me be clear, I feel terrible for saying this about a sixteen-year-old, was insufferable.”

“I thought I was the only one who thought so!” Stacy chirps from her beanbag. The thirty-year old mother of two crosses her ankles, drumming her fingers on the spine of her novel. “I was under the impression that Holden believed he was better than everyone else. His personality alone was enough to make me despise the book and it’s a shame. I wanted to love it.”

“That’s an interesting point, Stacy.” Setting my book on the ground, I adjust my legs deeper into the beanbag while the rest of the book club eagerly sits forward, awaiting my response. “And this is why I love reading so much. Whether the story is true or not, we know Holden Caulfield is not a real person, though there have been assumptions that J.D. Salinger modeled Holden after himself. Stacy, you said that Holden’s personality gave you enough reason to not enjoy the book. We certainly have to appreciate Salinger’s talent as an author. He was able to create a character that made you feel such strong emotions.” The club nods in agreement before I continue. “Now Shayne, you mentioned themes. Explain a bit more for me.”

“Gladly,” he answers eagerly. “Innocence. It’s the main theme. Holden, for lack of a better term, is obsessed with the preservation of childhood innocence. I do think that’s admirable, and while he was intolerable in my opinion, I can understand his desire to conserve one’s purity.”

“I assume there’s going to be a but in your next statement,” Charlie pipes up with a chuckle. The forty-seven year old retired firefighter wears a kind smile on his face.

“But,” Shayne smirks and holds up a finger. “Holden is one big contradiction, and here’s why. We know how much Holden hated the adult world and it’s “phoniness”. It’s the whole reason he wanted to preserve innocence wherever he could. Holden himself was a phony, a fake. He condemns adulthood but is seemingly unaware of his own phoniness. I now hate this word, by the way.”

A collective chuckle sounds in the room. I shake my head but can’t help the growing smile. The book club has been the highlight of my week so far.

“Anyway,” Shayne continues. “He’s deceptive and a compulsive liar. Holden is the epitome of what he hates.”

“That is a fantastic observation, Shayne, and thank you for sharing.” He bows dramatically before slinking back deeper into the beanbag. “Before we conclude our meeting and I introduce our new book, I have a question. Does anyone know why Holden’s name is symbolic to the story?”

I can see the wheels turning in their brains, and for a moment I think I’ve stumped them. Charlie looks like he wants to answer, but nothing comes out of his mouth. I take the chance to speak up. “First, does anyone know what a caul is?”

Stacy’s hand shoots up in the air. “I think I learned about this in one of my birthing classes but forgive me if I’m wrong. But isn’t the caul a part of the amnion that protects an unborn baby? Near the head, right?”

I snap my finger and point to Stacy excitedly. “Yes! And what does the name Holden sound like?”

“Holden...hold...en...hold...hold on?” Charlie asks skeptically.

“Exactly right,” I grin proudly. “Put it all together.”

“Oh my gosh,” Margaret says softly. Everyone turns toward the older woman. “In the book there was mention of Holden imagining children frolicking in a rye field. I just realized it now. He’s the catcher in the rye field, protecting the children. Holden Caulfield. Hold on to childhood innocence.”

I grin wildly, clapping along with the rest of the book club members. “Incredible, Margaret. You’re exactly right.”

“So, what’s our next book?” Shayne asks, hands tapping his thighs. “I’m feeling a mystery book.”

“Or Sci-Fi,” Charlie answers.

“Oooo, Sci-Fi,” Shayne murmurs excitedly.

“Neither,” I say, giggling at their frowns. From my purse, I pull out a purple paperback book and show it to the group. “Historical fiction mixed with romance. Our next book is The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie. I’ve never heard of it, so I’m sure you haven’t either. It’s about the same length as The Catcher in the Rye, maybe only a few pages more. Let’s all try to read the first five chapters and we’ll meet again next week.”

Stacy, Charlie, and Margaret bid farewell. Shayne stays back with me, shooting me a smirk as I gather my belongings. “Another romance novel, huh? Something you’d like to share with the class? Maybe his name?”

A slow smile spreads across my lips. I sling my purse over my shoulder, clamping a hand down on Shayne’s. “He’s a dream, Shayne. I’ve known him forever, but it’s finally official,” Two months ago, I used to cringe on the word official when it wasn’t. It still isn’t, but something between us feels different, feels real. The more I’m with him, the more I don’t want to pretend.

Shayne slings an arm around my shoulder, leading me out of the room. He’s had his fair share of relationship issues as well, but at twenty-one, he’s still young. “I’m glad one of us isn’t having boy trouble. Philip called me the other day, said he wants to get back together.”

“Are you going to?”

Shayne makes a face, opening the front door of the library. He scoots aside, letting me walk first. “Hell no, Sweets. He was a terrible boyfriend,” Shayne considers for a moment. “At least the sex was good. You think he’d settle for friends with benefits?”

I laugh heartily, pushing Shayne’s shoulder. “That’s a recipe for disaster, my friend. You want my advice? Spend some time on yourself. Find out what you really want in life.”

I head off to my car, Shayne walking the opposite way to his. Before I can slide into the seat, Shayne calls out to me. “Is he the one?”

I don’t have to think about it. It comes out naturally. “Without a doubt.”

~~~

Janielle has outdone herself, but I never expected anything less. Desserts are on every counter in her kitchen, from cupcakes to brownies and pastries. Outside on the back deck, a long white table is filled from end to end with finger foods and appetizers. With a beer in his hand, Dominic flips burgers expertly at the grill, shooting his wife a goofy grin when she utters a stern ‘be careful’. The rest of the adults gather on the patio, laughing and drinking, while the kids swim excitedly in the pool.

It’s the hottest day in August so far, and I can’t tell if my cheeks are red from the heat or from my constant ogling of Nikki’s shirtless chest. I watch from the deck as Nikki, Vince, and Amanda clink their bottles together and down their drinks. Nikki wins, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically, before turning his head to shoot me a wink. I laugh and shake my head, holding up my glass of wine that is still half full.

“So, you and Sixx,” My laughter is cut off by Dom, whose eyes twinkle with the same amusement present in his voice. “How about that?”

My stomach flips just at the mention of Nikki. “Going on almost four months,” I answer proudly, swirling the wine in my glass. “We’ve got nothing on you and Janielle, though.”

Dom smirks, carefully plating more burgers. I take the plate from him, and he nods in thanks. “Hey, not everyone knows who they’re going to marry at sixteen years old.”

This time, my heart beats faster just at the brief mention of marriage. I try not to let myself think of a long-term commitment with Nikki just yet. To everyone else, we’ve been official for a few months. But to myself and Nikki, we’re just two best friends playing a role.

“It’s too early to talk about marriage just yet,” I reply with a soft grin.

“But it’s a possibility in the future, yes?” Dom asks, stacking the last few burgers on the plate.

All I can answer with is a subtle nod just before I feel an arm snake around my waist. I crane my neck to glance up at Nikki just as his lips press a kiss to my jaw. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dom’s lazy smile and it puts me at ease knowing that Nikki and I have done our job at convincing everyone that what’s between us is true.

“Hi gorgeous,” Nikki greets breathily. “You doing okay?”

“Never better,” I answer truthfully, leaning back into his chest. I hand off the plate of burgers to Dom before directing my attention back to Nikki. “Are you?”

Nikki nods, arm tightening around my waist. “I’m perfect.” He holds up three empty beer bottles. “Come with me?”

I nod and take his hand, letting him lead me into the kitchen. While Nikki rummages through Janielle’s fridge for more beer, I steal a cannoli from the dessert tray, biting into the sweet cream.

“I’m having so much fun with you,” I blurt out honestly, licking the cream from my lips.

For a brief second, something flashes across Nikki’s face, almost as if my statement mimicked a bitter taste in his mouth. It’s gone just as fast as it came, replaced by an easy smile. “I am too, P.”

I bite my lip as Nikki opens the three bottles, eyes lingering on his tattooed arms. He catches me, smirking. “Pretty girl, you’re not exactly trying to hide it, you know.”

I blush, looking away like I always do when a compliment from Nikki is directed my way. And because I look away, I miss Nikki freeze in alarm, eyes wide, studying me.

When I turn back around, I notice his lips are in a thin line, jaw clenched ever so slightly. “P, I think we need to talk about something.”

His voice is serious, more serious than it’s ever been, and momentarily I fear the worst. Nikki’s fingers fidget nervously, and I can tell whatever is on his mind has been there for quite some time. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” It’s not a convincing answer, but I don’t say anything as he continues. “It’s more of a question, actually.” His hands fall at his side as he steps forward, exhaling a strangled breath. “Are we...what we’re doing…” His voice goes low. “We’re still pretending, right?”

There’s a lump forming in my throat, and I try my best to speak around it without giving off the impression that I’m either extremely hopeful he wants to make this real, or going to start crying because he wants to call everything off. “Yeah. Unless…unless you don’t want to pretend--.”

“No, no,” He says all too quickly, hands skimming my arms. “I like pretending. Pretending is good, safe. I just...wanted to make sure we’re still on the same page.” He grabs my hands, pressing a gentle kiss to each, before grabbing the bottles from the counter.

And as he leaves Janielle’s kitchen with a smile, I’m left standing alone and more confused than I’ve ever been.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx fic #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue fanfic #Motley Crue #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fluff #nikki sixx angst

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hournites · 4 years

Text

Say that we’ll stay with each other

An aged-up Jealous!Rick hournite fic for @samarasketch

~.~

They grab coffee at the diner to catch up every week. It’s not the only time they see each other, but missions require zero personal life talk for safety, as learned very quickly into their JSA run, and their texts just aren’t sufficient enough for the way they miss each other’s company.

Beth rearranges the cutlery, waiting for Rick as he picks out two desserts from beneath the glass window by the cash. It’s late and quiet, Rick had to work overtime to finish a deadline, so she took a nap at her office until he swung by with his car to pick her up.

The steaming coffee is in front of her, untouched. It’s been a long day and she’s second guessing whether or not caffeine is actually such a good idea after all.

“Wow,” Rick greets her, sliding into the booth across from her. He’s no longer slicking his hair back with gel and the small change makes a massive difference in how he looks. His hair is thick, falling over the front of his face, long enough to frame his eyes. Those eyes are lit up now, bright hazel. They sweep over her, taking everything in like he needs the moment to process.

The silent gesture pushes Beth to look down at herself, wondering if she spilled something or was showcasing a wardrobe malfunction of some kind.

“You look amazing. I noticed before but your jacket was on.”

Beth relaxes, settling against the leather backing of her seat. He grins at her, which she returns easily. Rick is her best friend—has been for a very long time. Her lips curve around the rim of her ceramic mug. “Oh, thank you! I was on my date earlier over lunch. I didn’t want to show up in my lab coat.”

“Right,” he replies. “Dr. Leho, was it?” ” Rick twirls his fork into the perfectly cut marble cake slice on the pretty small plate. “How’d that go?”

Beth suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. “Dr. Leon.”

“Oh, was that it?” As if he hadn’t deliberately botched the name of her date in the first place. Rick has met Denny before. Beth’s mom had invited him to her surprise birthday dinner that she organized with Courtney a few weeks ago. He was nice, bought her a book of easy recipes that he swore got him well fed through night shifts that he thought she’d enjoy. The gesture was thoughtful and was what made her agree to giving him her number. Rick was there for it all, one eyebrow arched high in what she was able to tell was silent judgement as he kept sharing a look with Yolanda.

“—And it went fine.”

He raises that brow again now. “Just fine?”

Beth shrugs. She already knows how Rick feels about why she’s giving him a chance. He’s not exactly her first choice when it comes to dating—Rather, he wasn’t much of a choice at all, pestered into giving the youngest single doctor working at her mom’s floor the time of day.

Her parents are getting concerned she’s throwing herself too deep into work without any support. It’s not precisely fair—Juggling a new position at Central City emergency with spontaneous secret crime-fighting against metahuman villainous egomaniacs does not give a woman much time to find someone new to love. Long shifts end in face-planting into bed until the next one and there’s nothing more she’d rather do than shove off her work shoes to do that. Only a handful of people have enough grip on Beth’s heart for her to sacrifice her evenings—Courtney and her family, Yolanda, Jade, Wally, her parents. And while she enjoys the pretty dress and matching pair of high heels for dinner, her energy to sustain a relationship would require an extension of self that she’s not sure she has to offer.

She’s tried to explain this, cutting out the important JSA parts, which she self-admits would strengthen her argument.

“It was a nice lunch.” She’s already preferring dessert with Rick, though.

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“What, he was that boring?”

Beth sighs. She finds herself describing her entire lunch break, from waiting for Denny to scrub his hands from surgical fluids to grabbing her hand to chatter about his day without a moment of pause for her to get something into the conversation until their food had arrived. It’s because he was excited to be on the date with her. Beth’s mom was talking her up to him, no doubt, clearly that was the case by any indication of how her mother kept talking about Denny to her over the phone too. So Denny was likely nervous, he kept letting out a barking type laugh after something he thought Beth should find funny. Beth couldn’t exactly be annoyed for his rambling to no end, she was the queen of that when she was younger. Her mom probably thought it was nice they had that in common. Except, it’s not. Beth’s excited verbal amusement park went away with age. Beth learned to keep her mouth shut when she needed to, she’s hoarded too many secrets.

“There’s one thing though that bothered me a bit,” she admits finally, tapping her cut nails against the table. “He asked me what...pleased me... the most.”

Rick frowns at her. “Huh?”

She flushes, eyes flitting away as she mumbles, “In bed. What I find pleasurable in bed.”

Rick bristles, his mouth dropping open. “Did you tell him?”

“After what he told me first? I kind of had to. There was a family sitting within earshot of us, it was barely noon so I sort of said something vague, I don’t exactly remember, I think my brain is trying to block it out. It was embarrassing.”

“God, that’s tacky.”

She knew Rick would say that. “I think he was trying to assess our compatibility?”

“You make him sound like some socially inept robot.”

Beth lowers her mug, biting her tongue on calling herself a socially inept robot. She reaches over the table for the pot the waitress left for them after Rick’s second refill, instead. He lifts it for her when notices, pouring her a fresh cup and slides over the basket of sugar packets and creamers.

“Thanks,” she says, then returns to their conversation. “I think he was trying to be suave.”

“You hate that word! You’ve said so yourself!”

Had she? Beth wrinkles her nose. It’s crazy how much of their lives they’ve shared together. “In high school, maybe.”

“I vividly remember you telling me that talking about sexual preferences with acquaintances freaks you out.” That’s true. Whenever a horror story kinky sex accident patient shows up in Beth’s emergency room describing their incident in full detail, it takes all of her professionalism not to drop her clipboard and run out from second hand embarrassment.

She shifts in her seat and explains, “He was my date, Rick.”

“So that’s what, half an hour of getting to know him? You’d think someone that went to med school would have the patience to keep it in their pants.”

“Rick!” She gapes at his bluntness because he’s just flinging it out there, dragging Dr. Leon’s entire personality with barely any effort at all, what’s worse is that he’s being unintentionally funny and now she’s trying not to laugh.

“What? This man is clearly not for you. He’s not your type.”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Then what is?”

Rick looks down at his plate, quieting. He hasn’t really eaten yet, just danced his fork all over that cake. She’s half tempted to ask him for it if Rick’s not hungry. She finished her lemon square in four bites.

“Well...”

“Well?”

"Well... He’s not my type... for you. He’s not good enough for you. He sounds like a secret sleaze."

Beth stops trying to defend Denny after Rick says that. She’s not sure if he’s so adamant because he can tell the way she’s not really interested in him, but feels the need to make her mom happy and is trying to give her an out, or if he honestly thinks Denny is not a good person. She’s been a superhero for ten years now, Beth is pretty sure how to gauge a person’s character. There’s nothing wrong with Denny Leon the way Rick is painting him. It’s hard because she knows there’s no real spark, but she’s willing to try. Chemistry doesn’t develop like that over one day.

Beth thinks about her mom again. She just wants Beth to have a fulfilling life. And she had found Beth’s father while also steadily making a career as a respected research clinician. What’s Beth’s excuse then, to say finding someone isn’t possible?

“I don’t have a type, I’ve barely dated at all. The man I’ve spent most of my time with is you.”

Rick takes a while to respond, but his eyes are on hers like he’s waiting for an afterthought to accompany her last sentence. It’s sincere and gentle, and for the second time since they’ve met here today, she finds her heartbeat picking up because of the way she’s being seen.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just—“

“What?”

He takes another moment before answering. “Why are you forcing something with someone you have no desire to connect to? Are you not...Happy?”

His question takes her by surprise. She stammers, feeling more heat rise to her face. “Why are you asking me this?”

Rick drags a hand over his face and leaves it there for a moment, like he’s just trying to breathe. Eventually, he sweeps his hair back up over his head, and he strikes a nostalgic resemblance to the angry boy Beth latched onto in tenth grade whose soul she watched soften over years of time. Her heart pangs at the memory of the way things were. When they spent all week side by side, and didn’t have to schedule coffee dates that inch towards midnight around saving each other in costumes with relics because of their hectic lives.

“I care about you,” he finally says. “I just don’t want to see you exhaust yourself over someone that’s not worth your time. You should be with someone who makes you feel how I feel whenever I’m with you.”

She smiles at that. “I love you too, Rick.”

His own smile falters, something dims in his expression, she’d almost call it wistful, but that’s not exactly a feeling Rick has in his emotional repertoire. He lowers his gaze to his plate again.

“Hey.” Beth places her hand over his. “Are you okay?”

In high school, Rick was on track to becoming a mechanic like Pat until the man turned him around by the shoulders and walked him through scholarship applications for college. To the surprise of practically everyone in Blue Valley except his inner circle of friends, he graduated with honours in both chemistry and physics, and is now an independent research scientist for a big pharma company. He says he likes his lab, but the regulations of being under a company contract means there’s only so much experimentation he can get by with on his own. Beth has been encouraging his recent talks of starting up his own research lab for JSA, but he seems stressed thinking of taking that beyond the realms of idealism.

His hand freezes beneath her palm. He glances up at her again without words, like he’s struggling with what to say. The creases between Beth’s brows deepen further with concern. “Rick?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. The smile is so fake it hurts that he thinks she could be fooled by it.

“Come on, it’s just us. Something’s bothering you. Is it work? Did your uncle contact you for money again?”

“No, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Rick—“

“You don’t have a type. You just have a person. I know that because you’ve been my person since I was seventeen. You don’t need your mother’s fancy surgeon prodigy to sweep you off your feet, Beth. You have me.”

“I—”

Her pulse rushes in her ears. She’s honestly speechless. Beth just sits there. Rick searches her face for some type of recognition she can’t give back because she’s just confused. She’s blinking back unexpected tears, the hand she has over his shaking, because there has to be something more to this, the gravity behind everything, but her mind keeps hitting against a blank wall. She understands what Rick is saying but not what he means.

He sees her distress and slips out of his booth, sliding into her side. “Hey,” he says, wrapping an arm around her as she presses her wet face into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s okay.”

Her stomach drops at the horrible way his voice sounds scratchy, thick with regret. That’s when it clicks, and the tears fall for real.

Rick is in love with her.

She’s not crying because she’s upset. Blindly, she reaches up for his face to see him, those fond hazel eyes blinking back. They used to be so hardened and guarded, but it’s just openness now, with her. It’s late, the diner is almost empty, nothing but dim lights and the only waitress busy cleaning up behind the counter. It’s just them, in their special spot. And it’s just them, their solid partnership, that Beth needs in her life to carve out time and effort and feelings for. He’s been trying to articulate this over and over since the evening began. Hugging her tightly, lets out a long breath. The solace he finds in her, alone. The relief and love. How she feels it in equal measures, how it’s always been there.

“I didn’t know.”

“I never really told you.”

But he has, really. He’s shown her since they were kids.

She touches his face, guiding him down so he could kiss her the way she suddenly desperately wants.

He does, kissing Beth deeply until her head goes dizzy and the light feeling is not something she ever wants to let go of. There is no extension of self when Beth is with Rick. No room to make. He already is in her future, can have all of her time.

#stargirl #hournite #rick tyler #beth chapel #fluff #jealous!rick #hournites fic #dctv

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kiwiana-writes · 7 months

Text

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Don't forget, Fandom Trumps Hate bidding opens 8am EST on March 5th! Details of my offerings are here, and a roundup of all the RWRB offers can be found here.

Remember a couple days ago when I said thanks to the people who tagged me in the WIP ask game but my list had just hit 62 and I couldn't be bothered writing them all out? Well, welcome to #62. I watched a film, realised how many fics I've read based on it across a ton of fandoms in the last couple of decades, entered some sort of weird fugue state, and then there was a Google Doc open. As usual.

2019 Outside Kensington Palace, with the car waiting to take him back to the royals’ private airstrip, Alex seriously considers taking Henry’s phone out of his hand and plugging in his phone number. It’s the same tug in his gut that led him across a Buckingham Palace ballroom to poke and prod at Henry’s perfect princely veneer; the one that dragged him across the room to introduce himself at Rio; the one that used to pull him out of his bedroom and into June’s to open a magazine. But that’s not what’s happening here. They’re not friends, even if Alex did see a glimmer of something resembling a personality while lying elbow to elbow with Henry on the dusty floor of a cupboard. It’s a PR stunt, nothing more, and they both have people who are literally employed to make sure they both come out of this looking good. No point in complicating it. In the end, Alex only reaches out when it’s time to shake Henry’s hand in farewell, and then he climbs into the back of the car and ignores the nagging sensation of something left unfinished. 2029 Alex rolls out the crick in his neck as he steps off the plane in Austin, his shoulders relaxing with every step into the familiar terminal. A couple of months into his second congressional term, he’s only just starting to feel like he really has a handle on the House schedule and the punishing weekly commute back and forth between Texas and DC—but just because he doesn’t have a spouse and kids to come home to like many of his colleagues on the Hill, it doesn’t mean he’s not still spending as much time in his district as he possibly can. Even if it does mean he has an even heavier reliance on caffeine than he did during college and more frequent flyer miles than he’ll ever know what to do with.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #fic: chemistry without a recipe

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

if love was a snake, it’d have bit you

Ao3

Summary: Remy, Patton, and Drew are dating. This is a fact. Remy, Patton, and Drew refuse to admit they are dating. This is also a fact. Guess it's up to Roman, Virgil, and Emile to force them to acknowledge the truth. Content: Some swearing, kissing (mostly face kisses, but some lip kisses too), nb!Patton + nb!Emile, genderfluid!Remy, oblivious gays, seriously guys, so much obliviousness, the obliviousness might kill you, gods know it killed me, Disneyland cast member AU Pairing: Romantic Mosleepceit Additional notes: So many additional notes -Big thanks to @emo-disaster for beta-ing for me and confirming the gays in this fic are wayyyyyy too oblivious -This fic is almost 11k words. it was meant to be around 3k. I’m so sorry. -Inspired by, but not actually based upon, this disneyland cast member au -This is probably hella inaccurate to real Disneyland but i don’t care alright -This fic is a (late) b-day gift for the one-and-only @notveryglittery !!! She’s an incredible person who I’m extremely happy to know, and I’m really hoping she even kinda likes this mess of a fic dsfbcdsjf

“-and if you’ll just sign here, I can finalize that upgrade for you.”

The woman smiled at Remy as she accepted the pen he offered her. She looked tired, her entire appearance screaming ‘overworked mom’ even without the literally screaming (playfully, but still screaming) kids behind her. She definitely needed the vacation.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” she said gratefully, quickly signing the paper Remy offered her.

“It’s no problem, ma’am,” Remy said, smiling politely as he took the paper and pen back, hitting a few keys on his computer as he did. “Just happy to make your stay as magical as possible. Here’s your keycard.”

The stressed mother accepted the keycard from Remy with another smile. “Thank you.” She reiterated the sentiment before convincing her children to give her their hands and heading off for the elevators, her wife following with the luggage. Remy smiled after them, briefly letting the last of the room change form sit unfinished on his screen.

“You’re going to get yourself fired for that eventually, you know.”

Remy’s smile only grew at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. He turned back to his work then, enough of Roman in his peripheral for Remy to tell he was strutting his stuff as a friend of Flynn’s. “Ah, you know they love me too much for that.”

“More like they don’t look hard enough to catch all your illegal ‘on-the-mouse room upgrades.’” Roman corrected, leaning against the back of the receptionist desk. “Though if they ever do? You’re screwed.”

“Shush, I’mma be gay and doing crime til Disney falls.” Remy responded cheekily. “And speaking of people who are going to get themselves fired, shouldn’t you be over in the good ol’ Disneyland already?”

Roman shrugged. “Shift doesn’t start for another half an hour. I’ve got time.”

“Time for what, exactly?”

Roman grinned at that. “Gossip, of course!”

Remy grinned now, too. “Well, if you’re looking for tales, a little birdy’s been keeping me updated on a blossoming relationship between one of the friends of Rapunzel and one of the friends of Snow White-”

“Oh, not that kind of gossip.” Roman interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m talking the good gossip- preferably about you and your boos.”

Remy scoffed, shaking his head as he hit the enter key and finished out the form. “Hard to gossip about those which I do not have, hun.”

Roman groaned, slumping against the desk and throwing his head back. “Oh, please, Remy, don’t tell me you’re still in denial.”

“Denial about what?” Remy asked, finally turning his full attention to Roman. “The fact that I’m single?”

“The fact that you have not one but TWO partners!” Roman answered, dramatically holding up two fingers. “Not only are you being a proper partner HOG you are refusing to admit as such.”

“Well if you’re just looking for someone to be the soul to your mate, handsome, I think I can hook you up.” Remy said teasingly, briefly lowering his sunglasses to wink at Roman.

Roman met the wink with a deadpan stare. “You’re a taken man.”

“Only if you make it so.”

“You can’t keep pretending your partners don’t exist.”

“I can if I don’t have any partners.” Remy told him, finally pushing his shades back over his eyes and giving up at his mock attempts to seduce Roman. “Now, of course, I have two very close friends with whom I do many things with, but given I’m not dating either of them, calling them my ‘partners’ seems a little much, don’t you?”

“I get it, I get it, I have good friends too.” Roman said, as if he were going along with what Remy was saying until he quickly added, “Except I’m not obviously DATING them!”

“You’re hopeless, princey, truly hopeless.” Remy said in response, smirking as he patted Roman’s cheek. “Ya gotta stop finding romance where it simply ain’t.”

“The only thing I am finding is the truth behind all the bullsh-”

“Remy!”

Both Roman and Remy turned from each other, gazes moving to the entrance, where the voice had originated from. The owner of the voice was hurrying over to them, their blond curls pulled back into a loose ponytail, keeping their hair out of their face and allowing them to smile brightly at both Roman and Remy. They stopped in front of the receptionist's desk, taking a moment to catch their breath and straighten their relatively small red tie.

“Heya sunshine.” Remy greeted easily, smiling at Patton in a way that was a little too soft to be a proper smirk “May I ask what brings you here in the middle of your shift? You’re gonna get yourself fired.”

“‘Worth it for a chance to see you.” Patton told him sweetly, giggling just a bit and ignoring Roman’s expression of self-confirmation. “Buuuuuuuut I'm on lunch break. Just came over to ask what you wanted for dinner. I know the plan for tonight was take-out, but I just realized that we have all the ingredients to make lasagna- aside from the noodles, which we can pick up on our way home- so I thought it might be fun to make that tonight instead!”

“Sounds wonderful to me.” Remy answered. “We’re going to keep it a secret from Dee though, right?”

“Of course!” Patton agreed. He leaned over to stage whisper to Roman, “It’s his favorite.”

“Oh, you guys know each other’s favorite dinners, do you?” Roman asked, smiling in a knowing way and wiggling his eyebrows at Patton. Patton tilted their head to the side, clearly confused, while Remy answered casually,

“Of course! You can only live with someone for so long without picking up on what they like to eat. Dee’s favorite is lasagna. Patton’s favorite dinner- which is coincidentally their favorite breakfast, lunch, and dessert as well- is waffles. And mine, of course, is a nice big cup of espresso-”

“Don’t lie!” Patton cut him off, smiling as they leaned on the counter and ended up within an inch of Remy. “Your favorite dinner is chicken soup!”

“Remy hates soup.” Roman said, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Not chicken soup.” Patton confirmed, not looking away from Remy. “That’s his favorite, no matter what he says.”

“Mmm, nice try, Pat, but that’s not it.” Remy denied. Patton pouted at him then, and almost immediately Remy relented with, “My favorite dinner is your chicken soup. You’re the only one who knows how to make it right, hun.”

Patton giggled. “I make it just like anyone else would!” they insisted, though their smile brightened even as they spoke.

Remy’s smile grew as well as he leaned forwards just a bit, pressing his forehead against Patton’s. “Nah, honeypie, you got somethin’ all the other recipes don’t.”

“And what’s that?” Patton asked.

“Loooooooove.” Remy answered, grinning broadly, seemingly happy to ignore how cheesy his answer was.

Patton didn’t mind the cheesiness. “You’re too much,” they said, too playfully to be chastising.

“Better than being too little.”

Patton just grinned at that. “I have to go.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” Remy said, expression seemingly not changing, though a close observer (aka Roman) might have noticed his smile dip just the slightest. “See you at six?”

“Mhmm!” Patton confirmed with a hum. They pulled away from Remy, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before they ran off, waving one last goodbye as they reached the doors before disappearing outside. Remy lazily waved his fingers after Patton, watching the doors a moment after Patton was through them before turning back to his computer and his work.

“Ready to admit you’re definitely dating at least one of your partners?”

“Nope,” Remy replied without missing a beat. “Though if you really want me to have a partner, you’re single… I’m single…” Remy waggled his eyebrows at Roman.

Roman ignored his advances. “The chemistry between you and Patton is so strong I’m surprised nothing’s exploded yet.”

“That was weak.”

“Shush.” Roman waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, for the love of Apollo, they kissed you goodbye!”

Remy half-shrugged. “They do that with all their friends.”

“They didn’t give me a kiss.”

“They were in a rush.” Remy explained away. “But if you really want a kiss-”

“-I will get it from my darling friend of Rapunzel,” Roman finished for him, having leaned over to check the time on the bottom of Remy’s screen. “I got so distracted trying to get you to tell me the truth I lost track of time.”

“What truth?” Remy asked, tone light. “The one about us making a perfect couple?”

Roman smiled sweetly at him, as though Remy was naive. “Maybe in a universe where you didn’t literally live with your soulmates,” he said, patting Remy’s shoulder before he turned and headed towards the door. He raised his hand over his shoulder without turning back, half-waving at Remy as he added, “Call me when you’re done being in denial!”

Remy just let out a light huff of amusement, shaking his head and turning back to his work. Roman could say whatever he wanted, but the fact remained: Remy was (un)happily single and most certainly not dating his roommates.

Yeah, sure, maybe he could’ve mentioned that his ‘best friends’ were also his crushes, but, hey, it wasn’t like that was that important, right?

Patton was staring intently at the floor. Well, more technically, they were staring intently at the mess on the floor and trying to convince themself they were supposed to be cleaning up said mess and not doing anything else with it.

The bell near the front of the store rang as the door swung open, but Patton ignored it. Plenty of people filtered in and out of the store. They did, however, pay attention when the sound of approaching footsteps got closer than the signs should have allowed.

“I’m sorry, this aisle is currently closed, if you don’t mind-” Patton started immediately, tone polite as they looked up, fully expecting to find an angry customer who refused to go over one extra aisle for whatever sweet treat they were looking for. They stopped when they saw who it was, polite-but-fake smile being replaced by a genuine one. “Oh, Virgil, hello there!”

Virgil smiled back, half-waving before he turned his focus to the floor, careful to step around the mix of glass shards and chocolate-covered balls of something as he came up next to Patton. “Busy day?”

Patton shrugged. “It was fine until someone didn’t put the jar fully back on the shelf. I’m just glad no one got hurt.”

Virgil nodded. “That’s good,” he agreed. “Waste of some perfectly good candy though.”

“It is,” Patton bemoaned, looking sadly at the mess. Virgil side-eyed them.

“Pat, you haven’t been considering eating the fallen candy, have you?”

“Maybe?” Patton tried, looking at Virgil only to find his expression completely disbelieving. They sighed. “Yes. It just looks so yummy! Even mixed in with all the glass! Because the glass sparkles and makes it kinda magical looking and it couldn’t hurt to have just one-”

Virgil put a hand on Patton’s shoulder, stopping them from bending down and grabbing one of the candies before they could move an inch. “All the candy here’s magical. Eat some of the candies that aren’t also glassy.”

“Mhmm,” Patton hummed in sad annoyance. “But it’s such a waste… I can stop it from being waste…”

“You could, but should you?” Virgil asked.

Patton groaned. “I shouldn’t,” they said. “But I want to…” They sighed, turning their gaze from the tempting mess to Virgil. “Distract me. Why are you here?”

“Other than to stop you from making poor dietary choices?” Virgil asked rhetorically before going on, “I’m avoiding Roman.”

“Avoiding him?” Patton repeated. “I thought you two were getting along. Don’t tell me he started another prank war-”

“No, he’s just being annoying,” Virgil answered. “He wouldn’t stop bothering me while I worked, because Remy apparently hadn’t been in the mood to entertain his gossip, thereby making me the person stuck listening to it. Guess Kev’ decided letting me walk it off for half an hour was better than me tearing a costume in frustration.”

Patton nodded as they moved to once more hold their broom, beginning to sweep up the mess as they said, “What was the gossip?”

Virgil leaned back on the shelf behind him, waving his hand pointlessly. “Oh, same old same old. Just talking about you and your partners, mostly how oblivious Remy is- which, I get it, Remy can be obtuse, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it all morning-”

“What?!” Patton cut him off, voice a higher pitch than they had intended, stopping halfway through a sweep to look at Virgil in disbelief and confusion. “My- what partners?!”

“...Remy and Drew. Duh,” Virgil said slowly, blinking at Patton as if they were missing something incredibly obvious. “You know. The people you live with. And are clearly dating. Those partners.”

Patton laughed, a weird hybrid sound of amusement and awkwardness. “I think you’re a little confused there, kiddo. I’m not dating Remy or Dee- they’re just my friends!”

“Yeah. Friends you’re dating,” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at Patton. “Don’t tell me you thought I wouldn’t notice. It’s fairly obvious.”

“I don’t know how it can be obvious if it isn’t true.” Patton responded, going back to sweeping as they looked away from Virgil. “We’re just friends. At least I am, anyways.”

“What does that mean?”

Patton briefly looked up from their work to look at Virgil instead. “Aw, shucks, Virge, you’ve seen how Remy and Dee look at each other. If anyone’s dating, it’s them.”

“And you?” Virgil pressed, prompting Patton to look down again at their work. “I’ve seen how Remy and Drew look at each other, but I’ve also seen how you look at them. They’re pretty similar looks, my dude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Patton answered, even as their cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. They risked a glance at Virgil, only to find him looking at them disbelieving. “Okay, maybe I love them a little more than just as friends.” Continued disbelief. “A lot more! But that doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“And why does them looking sweet at each other make them dating, but you doing the same just makes you just friends?”

“Because I think I’d know if I was dating them, silly.” Patton responded simply.

Before Patton could continue, or Virgil could speak up, they were interrupted by the sound of quickly approaching footsteps and the slight crunch of glass as the newcomer misstepped and stepped on the mess. “Well this looks… delightful.”

“Dee!” Patton said, dropping their broom against the shelf as they carefully (but still hurriedly) stepped around the mess to approach their roommate. He was dressed as a friend of Aladdin’s, wearing baggy pants and a raggedy shirt-vest combo, his small red hat carefully hiding his bun, presenting the illusion of him having short hair. Slight touches of make-up highlighted the scar running from beneath his left eye to the bottom of his jaw, Drew always happy to tell the very dramatic tale of how he got it in a sword fight (when the truth of the matter involved a very long story having to do with toast, ferrets, and the reason why he wasn’t allowed to use the ice machine anymore). “What’re you doing here?”

“Why, unhappy to see me?” Drew asked sarcastically, though he was smiling at Patton.

“Never!” Patton responded resolutely. They wobbled a bit as they got closer to Drew, almost stepping on a particularly ugly shard of glass, but Drew reached out and grabbed one of their hands before they could fall, stabilizing them and helping to lead them right up in front of him. Patton giggled at his help, not releasing his hand even once they were done moving. “Just curious. Shouldn’t you be at the wishing well?”

“Oh, I was,” Drew told them, free hand rising up to tuck a stray curl behind Patton’s ear. “But then I wished to see the loveliest face in the world and found myself here with you.”

Patton giggled again. “The wishing well must be broken if it didn’t just provide you with a mirror.”

A touch of pink coloured Drew’s cheeks at Patton’s words, and in the background Virgil turned from watching the two of them to stare blankly at the shelf across from him, as though it was a camera and he was in The Office.

“Trust me, angel, it made no error,” he said, despite his minor blush. “But to better answer your question, have you noticed how bright it is outside?”

“Of course I have,” Patton answered. “It must be warm out there.”

“It is warm,” Drew confirmed, sounding as if there was more he wasn’t saying but wanted Patton to pick up on anyways. “Some might even say it’s hot.”

“Just like you?”

Drew’s blush grew. “I think you’re missing the point.”

Patton’s smile turned a shade mischievous. “I’m not. I’m just waiting for you to admit to it.”

“Cruel, sweetpea, cruel.”

“Just admit it already!”

Drew sighed dramatically. “Alright! I fold! I admit that hydration in the face of the harsh sun is important.”

“Andddddd?”

Another sigh. “I admit that I forgot my water bottle, which I likely wouldn’t have done if I had simply used one of your sticky notes.”

“I even doodled a snake on your reminder!” Patton said, lightly hitting Drew’s chest. “It was cute AND helpful.”

“Just like you,” Drew commented, moving his hand from Patton’s hair to cup their cheek as they flushed. “And I’m sorry, dear, I really didn’t think I’d need it.”

“And yet, you’re here,” Patton teased lightly before turning towards Virgil, extending a hand. “Virgil, there should be a water bottle behind you- think you can hand it to me?”

Virgil did as he was asked, glancing behind him and finding that, yes, perched on the shelf was a metal water bottle covered in snake stickers. He grabbed it and turned back towards Patton, passing them the bottle. Patton took it and turned back to Drew, offering it to him.

“Oh, must I take it?” Drew asked, looking reproachfully at the bottle. “You’re so much nicer to hold.”

“Mmm, you need to get back to work before they catch you slacking,” Patton told him. “I’ll still be around to hold later.”

“Is that a promise?” Drew asked, even as he let his hand fall from Patton’s cheek to take his water bottle.

“Even better,” Patton answered, letting go of Drew’s hand so that they could loop their pinkies together instead. They raised their now joined hands so that they were in easy sight of Drew. “It’s a pinky promise.”

Drew smiled. “Good,” he said, bending his pinky a bit to squeeze Patton’s. “I’m holding you to it,” he punned before reluctantly stepping away, letting his and Patton’s pinkies remain linked until he was forced by distance to let go.

“So,” Virgil spoke up, slightly startling Patton, who had been waving at Drew until he walked out of sight. “You’re not dating them, you lied?”

“I didn’t lie!” Patton defended, moving back towards the broom as they spoke, once more careful to avoid the glass as they stepped. “I’m not dating him! Or Remy!”

“Oh, yeah, because calling each other petnames and trading compliments til you’re both blushing and not wanting to let go of each other and looking at each other like you’re the other’s world is really just ‘best friend’ behaviour,” Virgil said, voice thick with sarcasm.

“We’ve lived in the same apartment for months, Virgil, we’re close!” Patton said as they went back to sweeping. “That doesn’t make us partners.”

Virgil let out a breath. “I know, Pat, but you really should see the way you two were looking at each other. It sure as hell wasn’t plain-ol’ friendly.”

“Language.”

“Stop dodging the point.”

Patton stopped their work, turning to look at Virgil as they rested their chin on the broom handle. “I don’t know what point you think I’m dodging, kiddo. Dee- and Remy- are my friends. They’re dating each other, but I’m not dating them. It’s not that hard to understand.”

Virgil didn’t respond to that at first, instead just blinking slowly at Patton a few times. “I’m starting to understand why Roman was in such a mood,” he finally said as he pushed himself away from the shelves. “If Remy’s half as oblivious as you are, I’d be complaining too.”

“Oblivious about what?” Patton asked, confused. “They know who they’re dating and who they’re not.”

Virgil didn’t answer, instead just chuckling and shaking his head. “I should get back before Kevin decides to be less lenient about my wandering time. See you later, pine-on.”

“Bye, Virge!” Patton said cheerily. “And good pun!”

Virgil responded with a half salute behind his head as he wandered off. Patton watched him off as they resumed their sweeping, focusing on their work and not any of the interactions that had just occurred. Say what he would, Virgil was wrong- Patton’s relationship with Drew and Remy was strictly platonic, and they had no plans to mess with what the three of them did have (an amazing friendship) anytime soon.

Drew dropped his bag before he collapsed against the wall, sliding down it halfway as he let out a huff. Though the day had been no longer than any other, the sun had been much more annoying than usual, and he was ready to be home and surrounded by not only air conditioning but also people he could stand. Absentmindedly he rubbed at the remains of make-up on his face, the only part of his costume he was still in since having changed out at the end of his shift.

“Are you suffering from heatstroke, or just bored?”

Drew looked up, finding Emile in front of him, smiling in amusement.

“A bit of both,” Drew answered truthfully. “Forgot my water bottle at home, though Pat had grabbed it for me at least. But neither their shift nor Remy’s is over for at least another fifteen minutes, so…”

“So I’m just someone to distract you until one of your partners can take over?” Emile asked, teasing.

“My partners in crimes, you mean?” Drew said. “Because I’ve told you before, Em, I really shouldn’t be talking about them here- you’re going to ruin our plan to invade ‘Beauty’s palace and get the treasure.”

“And what treasures are you going to find in there?”

“Hopefully, the key to a full hundred years of rest,” Drew told them before adding, “And gold. Mostly going for the gold.”

“Mhmm.” Emile hummed. “Happy to hear you’ve got your future set. Your criminal enterprises sound like they’re going to go over very smoothly. Now, as to your actual partners…”

“Do you think I’m cheating on my current criminal partners?” Drew asked, sounding offended. “With whom, another team? Emile, I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I think we both know I’m referring to your romantic partners.”

“Ah, yes.” Drew crossed his arms and leaned further back against the wall. “You’re referring to my roommates, who somewhere along the line you got confused as also being my romantic partners. They’re not very good at crime, you know.”

Emile grinned. “Not even good at stealing your heart?”

Drew just waved his hand dismissively. “Patton steals the heart of everyone they meet. Remy is not subtle at all when they go for the steal. Neither of them would make it a day in the world of crime.”

“But you admit that they’ve stolen your heart.”

“I admit they steal everybody’s heart.”

“But not like they’ve stolen yourssssss.”

Drew sighed, pulling his water bottle out of his bag and taking a sip of the water while he waited for Emile to stop. “Don’t be like Virgil and Roman, Emile. You’ve been given the precious gift of actually having a brain cell. Don’t waste it.”

“You can say whatever you want, Drew, but that doesn’t change the truth, even if you’d like to pretend it would,” Emile replied calmly, sounding smug. “We’ve all seen the way you three look at each other. You can’t lie your way out of love truer than that of Tiana, Naveen, and Charlotte’s.”

“Don’t have to lie to tell the truth,” Drew responded, returning his water bottle to its place in his bag. Before Emile could rebuke his words, the door that led outside of the first aid station opened, and two people walked in.

“Excuse me,” Emile said politely to Drew before they headed towards the people. After a brief moment of conversation, Emile walked further into the building with one of them while the other came over towards Drew.

Drew smiled when the newcomer was close enough for him to identify. “Hello, darling.”

Remy returned his smile, leaning against the wall and facing Drew. Remy was clearly off-shift, both costume and nametag removed, and was now sporting a sea-green bracelet. “Good evening, charming. Miss me?”

“Constantly,” Drew answered effortlessly. “I assume the same to be true of you?”

“I miss you every second you’re not in my presence more than the moon misses the sun,” Remy answered, maintaining veir composure for a moment before veir expression broke and ve laughed. “Like that one? I heard someone in the lobby tell it to their husband.”

“It is unbearably cheesy,” Drew told ver. “Though I’m sure also very sweet, if you mean it.”

“Good thing I mean it then,” Remy said jokingly. “People suck. I got yelled at twice today. I missed you and your not-yellingness.”

“Is that all you missed about me?” Drew asked, smile turning sly. “Because I know I miss you for more than just your sometimes-not-annoyingness…”

“Oh really?” Remy asked, shifting so that ve was facing Drew even more. “Well, I miss you for your not-yellingness, and for your looks- scar most certainly included, hun, it makes you look roguish- and for your mind, and your charisma, and, of course, your snark.”

“You flatter me.”

“Look in a mirror, sugar, you make it easy,” Remy told him. “Now I’m dying to know why you missed me.”

“Oh, how could I not?” Drew asked rhetorically. “There’s your charm, as sarcastic as it may be, your humor, your refusal to stand down against idiots, and your sense of fashion- though I must confess, I consider it a sin to hide such dazzling eyes.”

“Compliment my charm when you’re the real charmer ‘round here- I see how it is,” Remy said playfully, smiling.

Drew returned the smile. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Mhmm,” Remy hummed non-committedly, though veir smile didn’t drop. Ve reached forward, brushing some of Drew’s hair behind his ear before moving to run veir fingers through it. Drew leaned his head closer, allowing ver easier access to his hair as ve pulled it over just one of his shoulders. “Your hair’s a mess.”

“It’s been in a bun all day.” Drew explained, closing his eyes and focusing on the soft and calming feel of Remy brushing through his hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. “It got tangled.”

“Too lazy to fix that problem yourself, sweetheart?”

“I like it better when you do,” Drew admitted.

Remy chuckled as ve continued, veir attention turning more towards gentle touches against Drew’s skin as ve worked. “I should braid your hair tonight. Might not tangle as quickly that way.”

“If we do that, we’ll need to stop at the store on the way home,” Drew said. “Our beloved sunbeam will want to put flowers in my hair, and I do not believe we have any at home.”

“We already needed to stop for some dinner fixin’s anyways,” Remy told him. “We’ll just add ‘flowers prettier than your face’ to the list, though I’m afraid if we go looking for those we’ll never find them.”

Before Drew could return the compliment, the sound of approaching steps stopped him. He opened his eyes just enough to see that they belonged to Emile, who was smiling broadly and just a touch satisfiedly at them, before he closed his eyes once more.

“Hey there, babe,” Remy greeted. “How you?”

“I’m peachy keen!” Emile answered enthusiastically. “Yourself?”

Drew didn’t need to see Remy’s face to know that ve was smirking. “I’ve got the prettiest man in the world melting into my touch, so I’d say I’m doing pretty swell.”

“Bold words from the most gorgeous being to ever grace this planet’s surface,” Drew countered, opening his eyes so he could return Remy’s smirk. “And I’m not ‘melting into your touch,’ I’m giving you easier access to the hair you so wish to tame.”

“Whatever you say, sugar.” Remy responded casually, right before ve ran veir hand through his hair again, stopping halfway through to press veir fingers against the base of his neck, rubbing just the slightest of circles into his skin, which was cheating, because ve knew perfectly well that was one of his weak points. The motion alone had Drew leaning closer towards Remy, letting out a small sigh that morphed into a huff halfway through.

“That’s cheating,” Drew said, trying to sound accusing but only succeeding in sounding tired and slightly whiny.

Remy laughed. “Don’t care, darling, not even a little.”

Drew hissed at ver, only earning himself another laugh.

“Well you two certainly seem happy,” Emile pointed out, the slightest hint of trickery in their tone.

“I’d like to think we are, yes,” Remy said.

“Not that it’s surprising,” Emile continued, failing to sound very innocent. “I’m sure anyone’d be happy spending time with one of their partners.”

“I’m sure they would,” Remy said neutrally. “Not sure what that has to do with anything right now-”

“They’re talking about my partners in crime.” Drew interrupted. “I told them earlier about my plan to raid Sleeping Beauty’s class and steal her secrets to a hundred years of sleep.”

“I see. Well I do hope you plan on sharing those secrets because goodness knows I could do with a good century of napping.”

“Goodness and me,” Drew agreed, reaching forward and pushing Remy’s sunglasses up a bit, frowning at how dark the bags under veir eyes were. “Why else would I steal the secrets if not for you?”

“Awwww, you care,” Remy cooed, tone a mix of goodheartedly mocking and sincere. “And what do you mean, ‘goodness and me’? Hun, you are goodness.”

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s Pat.”

“I don’t see why it can’t be both of you.”

“This is getting ridiculous!”

Drew and Remy turned towards Emile at their outburst, Remy tilting veir head to the side in confusion while Drew asked,

“What is?”

Emile waved their hands at the roommates. “You two! You three! This!”

Remy and Drew glanced at each other before looking back at Emile. “This?” Remy asked.

“You’re so oblivious it puts the Scooby Gang’s obliviousness to Shaggy’s godhood to shame!” Emile said, thoroughly exasperated.

“I’m sorry what was that-”

“I mean, look at you two!” Emile said, gesturing at where Remy’s hand was still running through Drew’s hair. “All you do is compliment each other and worry over each other and know exactly what to do to make the other melt into your touch!”

Drew shrugged. “So? We’re friends.”

“And we’ve lived together for months,” Remy added. “Kinda hard to not pick up stuff about each other.”

“This moved past friendship weeks ago,” Emile told them, crossing their arms. “You can pretend to be sly, but you aren’t.”

“We’re not pretending anything,” Drew replied, raising an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Em? No offense, you seem a little... agitated over this.”

Emile squinted at them. “You’d be agitated if you were me.”

“Huh. Vaguely ominous,” Remy commented idly, unperturbed by the conversation. “You should really talk to Roman though. He’s been having the same misconceptions about me and my roommates’ relationship. I’m sure you two lovelies can find the truth if you talk it out.”

“We’ve already found the truth,” Emile said confidently.

“If you say so,” Remy responded, reaching into veir pocket as ve spoke, pulling out veir phone and checking the time. “Patton’s shift should be over in a couple of minutes. Wanna go greet them?”

“The only sunshine I always want to see,” Drew answered. “Don’t tell them we’re going to braid my hair just yet, though, alright? I’d prefer to surprise them.”

Remy grinned. “Of course, hun.”

Drew returned the grin before shifting over so that he could pick his bag up, ignoring Remy’s protest at his hair moving out of playing-with range. “You do know that going to Patton requires moving, right?”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

Drew chuckled as he straightened up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You can play more with my hair when we get home, starlight, don’t worry. Come on, let’s go get Pat.”

Remy pouted, but ve still lifted veir arm and allowed Drew to slot himself in against veir side as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Remy’s arm wrapped around the top of Drew’s shoulders, holding him close as they headed towards the doors.

“Have a goodnight, Em,” Drew called over his shoulder right before they left, door lightly thudding as it fell shut behind them.

Emile let out a little huff. “Night-night lovebirds,” they said, even though they knew the couple in question couldn’t hear them. They waited a moment after they left before pulling out their phone, flicking to the group chat they, Roman, and Virgil had lovingly nicknamed ‘operation Get These Gays Together’ (originally known as ‘operation if they don’t get together I’m going to shoot them and then myself’ when Virgil named it) and sending a quick but vital text.

Usually, Emile preferred the passive route. They preferred to push people towards the solution, help them subtly, let them figure it out for themselves with only a bit of their help.

But that method was driving Emile (and Roman and Virgil) insane. They had tried the easy, passive way.

It was time to be aggressive.

The first thing Remy registered upon waking up was that they’d really rather not. The little bit of sun that made its way through their half-open eyelids was already too much and they were almost a hundred percent certain they still needed another five hours of sleep to be anything close to well-rested.

Therefore, immediately after opening their eyes, they shut them once more, rolling over and pushing their face into the surface beneath them to try and drown out all possible light. While this did solve the immediate problem of ‘too much light,’ it presented a new one for them to deal with- the fact that something close to him was warm and moving.

The discrepancy between where they remembered falling asleep last night- on the couch, alone- and where they must be now- somewhere big enough for more than one person to be sleeping, and apparently not alone anymore- was enough to convince Remy to open their eyes again. It was easier if only for the fact that the sun was now behind them, illuminating the sight in front of Remy instead of blinding them.

Remy was unsurprised to find the warm moving ‘thing’ was, in fact, their roommates- Drew curled up against Patton’s back, arms wrapped around their chest, one of Patton’s hands resting on top of Drew’s and their other sprawled out across the bed, almost touching Remy.

The sight made Remy smile. They reached out to lay one of their hands over Patton’s outstretched one, gently rubbing circles and nonsense patterns into their palm while they waited for them to wake up. While they would like to figure out how they ended up in bed instead of on the couch, and while they knew all three of them would eventually have to get up for work, they didn’t see the point in rushing anything. If they were already late for work, hurrying now wouldn’t change that, and Remy had decided long ago that there were few things in the world that mattered to them more than seeing both Drew and Patton rested, relaxed, and happy.

Slowly but surely, Patton began to wake up, shifting around in Drew’s grasp for a moment before their eyes fluttered open and they saw Remy. Upon seeing them, Patton smiled a sleepy but fond smile.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Patton greeted them, yawning partway through their sentence. They twisted their hand a bit so that they could hold Remy’s, beginning to rub circles into the back of Remy’s hand. “You look nice.”

Remy found it doubtful that they, in all their sweatpants, ratty t-shirt, and disheveled hair glory, were looking like anything more than a mess, but they were loath to reject any compliment that came from Patton.

“You look just as cute as always,” they returned, smile growing at Patton’s small giggle at their response. “I am, however, a little curious as to why I’m seeing your beauty right now.”

Patton’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before smoothing out as they realized what Remy was asking. “You fell asleep on the couch last night, right?”

“Last I recall, yes, and I’m sorry to say I don’t remember coming to… wherever this is.”

“It’s my room,” Patton answered. “I was cold, and I had pinky-promised Dee we could cuddle. We were goin’ to ask you to join, but you fell asleep while we were putting away the lasagna and we decided we didn’t want to risk waking you to move you. You’re such a light sleeper… and Dee said you hadn’t been sleeping as much recently.”

As Patton finished speaking, they reached out to brush a thumb underneath one of Remy’s eyes, as if they could erase the bags that were there.

Remy reached up with their free hand to catch Patton’s, gently pulling it away from their face and intertwining their fingers instead. “Don’t worry about me, sunshine, I’m fine. Just a few more sleepless nights than usual.”

Patton hummed, clearly not satisfied, but they didn’t say anymore on the topic. “I know I didn’t bring you in here,” they said instead, looking forlornly at the space roughly a foot long between them and Remy. “I wouldn’t have brought you in here for cuddles and then not cuddled you,” Patton explained, sounding melancholy.

In an attempt to at least partially console them, Remy scooted closer to Patton, narrowing the gap to only a few inches. They kept themself from moving all the way against them only because they knew exactly what would happen, knew Patton’s arms would wrap around them and hold them close, trapping them in the cuddle pile they’d have no will nor want to escape, and, as nice as it sounded to let reality drift away as they sank back into sleep so close to their two favorite people in the world, Remy knew they couldn’t, knew they had to be at least a little bit responsible and wake up and go to work and do more than just waste the day away holding each other.

Though damn if that wasn’t a tempting thought.

“So does that mean Dee moved me?” Remy asked.

“He must’ve,” Patton answered before frowning. “Though I don’t ever remember him getting up… here, I’ll just ask him.”

Patton turned over slightly, letting go of one of Remy’s hands so that they could gently shake Drew’s shoulder. “Dee? Dee, honey, do you think you could wake up for me? Please?”

In response, Drew half-groaned, half-yawned, and shifted so that his head was pressed into the crook of Patton’s neck, effectively hiding him from both his roommates and the sun. Patton giggled quietly at his action before they titled their head around and pressed a slightly awkward kiss to the top of Drew’s head. “I know you don’t want to, love, but you’ve gotta get up.”

Drew didn’t respond for a moment, but eventually he sighed, lazily lifting his head away from Patton’s shoulder. He returned Patton’s kiss atop their head before shifting his attention to Remy, blinking blearily as he focused on the third person in the bed.

“Mornin’ darling dearest Dee,” Remy greeted. “Sleep well?”

“Mhmm,” Drew hummed noncommittally, but from the way his arms tightened around Patton, holding them closer, Remy could guess he had slept very well curled up with Patton. “What’re you doin’ here?” he slurred, awake enough to realize Remy should still be out on the couch if not awake enough to speak properly.

“We were kinda hoping you could answer that one, hun,” Remy said. “Because I don’t remember coming in here, and Patton doesn’t remember moving me.”

Drew frowned. “I didn’t move you. Wanted you to sleep.”

“So I’ve heard,” Remy commented, now frowning themself. “So. If none of us put me in the bed, and none of us have any sleep walking and/or possession problems we haven’t told the others about…”

“How did you end up here?” Patton finished for them, completing the trifecta of frowns.

The unanswered question finally convinced Remy to sit up, squinting as they looked around the room for some explanation. It did appear to be Patton’s room, from the animal posters hung on every wall to the rainbow they had painted onto the light switch cover with nail polish, so it was unlikely they had all been kidnapped, which Remy was going to consider a good thing. Something did stand out to Remy, however.

“Hey, Pat, you haven’t put any random notes on your door recently, have you?”

Patton shook their head in confusion. “No. Why do you ask?”

Remy didn’t answer them immediately, instead sliding out of the bed and heading towards the door. Tapped to it was a folded note, ‘to the oblivious gays’ scrawled on the front of it. Remy pulled it off the door, unfolding it and quickly scanning the message inside. When they finished, they groaned.

“I’m disowning all of our friends.” Remy said, tossing the note to the side in annoyance as they grabbed the door handle, trying (and failing) to turn it. They groaned again. “Fuck.”

“Language.” Patton said automatically as Drew pushed their glasses onto their face for them, Patton blinking a few times as they stopped needing to squint at everything. “What is it?”

Remy ran a hand through their hair as they moved to the only window in the room, attempting to open it for a moment before deeming it a lost cause. They sighed and turned back towards the bed. “We’ve been locked in.”

This got both Patton and Drew to sit up, both looking more awake as they frowned at them. “What do you mean, we’ve been locked in?”

“Exactly what I said,” Remy replied, leaning back against the wall behind them. “Our most lovely friends have locked us all in a room together and apparently won’t let us out until we ‘confess’ or some bullsh- bullcrap, because this is 2012 and we’re a story on fanfic-dot-net.”

“Confess?” Patton repeated before realization dawned on their face. “Oh. I- Virgil was talking about that yesterday, but I didn’t think he actually- well I didn’t think he really meant anything by it.”

“Same with Emile,” Drew said. “They talk about it so often I just figured it was some sort of joke for them.”

“Roman was talking about it too,” Remy added unhappily. “He pointedly ignored all my advances as well, which was rude. I like to think my distractions are at least worth one returned flirt.”

A moment of silence stretched out between them before Drew sighed and said, “So they did this, huh.”

“That’s why I’m disowning them, yeah,” Remy informed him. “Also on the list of disownments is my cousin, because apparently he’s the one who gave them the key they used to break in here and set this whole mess up.”

“Logan’s not usually the type to go for this sort of thing,” Drew pointed out.

“He isn’t, but I think he’s still annoyed about that one time I stole all his Crofter’s.” Remy said. “Though now he’s indirectly keeping me from my coffee, so who’s the real monster here?”

“At least you’ve got us,” Drew offered.

Remy smiled at that, annoyed expression softening. “Yeah, that I do,” they agreed, pushing off of the wall and padding back over to the bed, joining the semi-circle and leaning against Patton’s side. Drew wrapped an arm around both Patton’s and Remy’s backs as soon as they were settled, holding the three of them together.

“So now what?” Patton asked after a moment of comfortable silence. “Should we call in to work sick?”

“The note said they’d cover it,” Remy answered with a scoff. “No clue how they plan to do that, but they’ve made it into a them-problem.”

“And when are they going to let us out?” Drew followed up. “Because we’re going to have to eat soon.”

“I have a bag of emergency cookies in the closet, if worse comes to worst,” Patton added.

“Of course you do,” Drew said, though he sounded only fond.

“They said they’ll swing by around lunch to free us and, I quote, ‘congratulate us on the proposals,’” Remy laughed. “Roman’s words, if you couldn’t guess.”

Drew chuckled. “And if we try to break out of our makeshift prison?”

“They’ve stolen our phones and tapped them to the door, so if we break it down, we risk breaking our phones.” Remy explained. “Logan also reminded us that glass is sharp and dangerous when broken so we shouldn’t even think about shattering the window.”

“So no breaking out,” Drew summed up. “Guess we really are stuck here ‘til they return.”

“Yep,” Remy agreed. They turned their head so that they could plant a kiss against the side of Patton’s head. “At least I’m stuck with y’all. Better be trapped with angels than free with demons.” Remy smiled when Patton blushed a shade of red that Remy thought just made them look even prettier.

“Well someone’s getting awfully poetic,” Drew quipped, though he was also blushing.

“It’s what happens when I don’t have my coffee,” Remy said offhandedly. “Deal with it.”

“Only if you accept that you yourself are also an angel.”

“Oh, rude, babe, real rude to ‘u-too’ my own compliment back at me.”

“If you want to make this easier on yourself, just accept it, my dear,” Drew advised. “I can wax just as poetic as you can, and will if I think I must.”

Remy sighed, holding out the sound for a moment before they folded. “Fiiiine, I’m an angel.” They leaned around Patton, getting close enough that they could press a kiss to Drew’s forehead. “But you’re still the prettier one.”

Drew gasped dramatically at that, but before he could respond, Patton sighed, sounding fond and vaguely melancholy. Remy pulled back from Drew just enough to look at Patton.

“Aw, our sunshine feeling left out?” Remy asked teasingly, kissing Patton’s forehead as well and wrapping their arms around Patton’s waist. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re just as pretty as Dee.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that, I promise!” Patton reassured them with a laugh. “You two are just so cute together, that’s all.”

“We’re all cute together,” Remy said, pressing a quick peck of a kiss to Patton’s chin. “Helps that we’re all cute.”

Patton laughed again. “No, I mean- together-together, you know? You’re a good couple.”

Remy and Drew reacted to that, both glancing at each other in confusion and uncertainty. “Couple as in two people, or…?” Drew asked.

Patton raised an eyebrow, now looking confused themself. “I mean, I guess that too, but I mean- well, I mean romantically.”

Another uncertain glance between the supposed ‘couple.’ Remy laughed awkwardly. “Hate to break it to ya, hun, but I think I’d know if I was dating such a cutie.”

“Same here,” Dee echoed.

“Oh. Oh!” Patton said, blushing red now in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, you just- the way you act together, I- you’re so comfortable together-”

“We’re all comfortable together,” Drew pointed out, albeit quieter than he had been speaking a moment ago.

“I know, you just- I- oh, I’m so sorry!” Patton repeated, hiding their face in Drew’s shoulder. “I feel so silly,” they added, their voice now muffled.

Remy chuckled, reaching forward to card their fingers through Patton’s hair. They scooted a little closer to them as they scratched at their scalp as well. “Don’t worry about it, honey-love. Everybody makes mistakes.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…” Patton cut themself off before actually getting to their point, shaking their head a bit before they pressed their face even further into Drew’s shoulder.

“Oh, come now, beloved,” Drew coaxed, rolling his shoulders and trying to convince Patton to lift their head. “You don’t have to hide anything from us, much less your beautiful face or heavenly voice.”

“It’s silly,” Patton whined, just loud enough to be understood. Remy laughed gently, brushing their hair to the side so they could kiss the back of their neck.

“That’s okay. We’re not going to make fun of you or anything,” Remy assured them.

Drew leaned over and kissed the top of Patton’s head, pulling back only a little. “What’d you say, love? Can I see those pretty, pretty eyes?”

It took another moment of Remy playing with their hair and Drew sweet talking Patton before they were convinced, slowly lifting their head up just enough so that Drew could see their eyes. Drew smiled at them. “There you go. Isn’t this nicer?”

A little smile slipped onto Patton’s face. “Your eyes are much, much more gorgeous than the fabric of your shirt, yes.”

“I should hope so,” Drew replied, leaning his forehead against Patton’s. “Now, I’m sure both me and our lovely moonbeam are very curious as to what’s got you trying to hide from us.”

“Yeah, sugar, you’re not usually like this,” Remy added, though they didn’t sound worried, just sweet. “What’s got you feeling so silly and shy?”

Patton rested their cheek on Drew’s shoulder, looking between their roommates. “Promise you won’t hate me?”

“We could never,” Drew and Remy said at the same time.

Patton nodded, took a breath, squirmed a little in place, and finally said, “Y’know how I’ve never really said that you guys are together, even if I had no reason not to say it?”

“Uh… yes?” Remy answered, sounding slightly baffled by the question.

“Yeah, well… there was a reason for that.”

“...Okay?” Drew said, tone matching Remy’s.

“It’s because I didn’t really want to accept the fact that you two were together.”

Twin silence from Drew and Remy. Patton let out a little sigh, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“I didn’t like acknowledging the fact that you were both taken,” A pause to give their roommates a chance to finish for them; when neither of them spoke, Patton continued, “because I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you were both taken but neither of you were taken with me.”

Another pause, another stretch of silence as Drew and Remy each processed Patton’s words, the confessor themself once more hiding against Drew’s shoulder. Then- dawning understanding.

“Oh,” Remy said first, looking at Drew with wide eyes. “Oh. Patton, I-”

“It’s really okay if neither of you feel the same, really, I don’t even expect you too, we’re friends, and that’s what we’ve always said we were and always been, and that doesn’t need to change I just-” Patton laughed, slightly breathless as they tried to fit everything they wanted to say in only the space of a few seconds, “I just feel silly that I never even bothered to tell you guys because I thought you were dating, that’s all.”

It was quiet as Drew and Remy processed that, Drew looking at the bed as he thought while Remy looked off at the wall, clearly lost in their thoughts. It only took a moment for them to sort them, however.

“Hey, Patton?” Remy said, getting Patton to lift their head once more from Drew’s shoulder and look at them, Patton’s expression a mix of pained and hopeful. Remy reached forwards, cupping one of Patton’s cheeks with one of their hands, smiling a little stupidly as they did so. “Wanna hear a silly little secret of my own?”

Patton's eyes widened, suggesting that they knew exactly what the secret was, but they still said, in a quiet, almost awed voice, “What?”

Remy giggled, just a little, reaching out with their other hand as well and holding Patton’s face in both their hands as they answered, “I have a crush on both my roommates too,” they said in a mock-whisper, as if they were at a sleepover and they were all twelve. “I never told them because I thought they weren’t interested in me like that, but recently I’m starting to think I might be wro-”

Remy’s confession was cut off by Patton letting out a little squeal of excitement, pushing themself forward so that they could wrap their arms around Remy’s midsection, knocking them over and ending up with them both sprawled across the bed. Remy had just barely recovered from the action when Patton started peppering kisses across their face, going over their forehead and both their cheeks before they ended with a kiss on their lips, one that was brief but still sweet and loving and warm and undeniably Patton.

“You jerk.” Patton said, though there wasn’t a hint of heat in their tone as they laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me this three months ago?!”

“I had this whole friendship thing going on that I didn’t want to ruin!” Remy defended with a laugh of their own. “Though, if I had known that’d be your reaction, I’d have gone off and ruined our friendship long ago, sweetness.”

Patton’s smile broke into a grin and they kissed the tip of Remy’s nose, eliciting a quick but joyful giggle from them. “You’re forgiven for your slowness in telling me for how utterly perfect you are.”

“Why thank you, angel,” Remy said, pushing themself up just enough to give Patton a fast nose kiss as well. “But don’t you think we’re missing something- or, better put, someone- from this ‘perfect’?”

Patton’s eyes widened at the reminder. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!” they said before turning around to look at Drew. He was still sitting in the same spot he had been. It was clear he had been watching Patton and Remy, but upon them turning their attention to him, he seemed to suddenly find the entire rest of the room much more interesting to look at.

“Dee?” Patton said, forcing the aforementioned to turn his attention back to them or risk being rude to one of the people he was currently locked in a room with.

“Yes?” Drew asked, trying to sound aloof and neutral. He failed horribly, however, his voice coming out as something closer to mock-formal.

“Me and Remy have both made our confessions… do you have one of your own?” Patton asked, once more sounding hesitant.

When Drew didn’t respond instantly, Remy rushed to add, “It’s completely alright if you don’t, of course. No pressure whatsoever, we can still be friends, it’s just- well, not to sound like the people who locked us up in here in the first place, but I kinda feel like that’s not really what we should be.”

“I-” Drew started before cutting himself off, looking down as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “I do love you guys, really; I mean, who couldn’t after living with you for so long, you’re too incredible not to love, but… I don’t know how I love you.”

“...Care to elaborate?” Remy pushed after a minute stretched in silence.

Drew shifted in place. “I guess… we’ve spent our entire friendship doing everything a couple might do- spending time together, learning each other’s favorite things, getting stupidly domestic, literally sleeping together, cuddling, sharing little kisses, and I just… don’t know if I love you romantically or not.”

“Alright,” Patton said slowly, nodding their head before frowning. “I’m… not sure how to figure that out.”

“Me neither,” Remy admitted. “There must be something romantic we haven’t done with you, right?

Drew shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve covered all of the bases, as far as I can tell. No wonder everyone thought we were dating…”

“Not all of them,” Patton said, pulling Drew out of his barely started musings. They smiled at him, softly and sweetly and just a bit shyly. “Dee?”

“...Yes?”

“Do you want to kiss us?”

“Kiss you- I already have kissed you, what do you…” Drew cut himself off as he realized what Patton meant, his cheeks quickly turning a crimson red.

Remy chuckled as they sat up, Patton shifting a bit to their side so that they could properly sit up. “Hate to put words in your mouth, sweetheart, but I’mma guess that means yes?”

“I… yeah, yeah it does,” Drew conceded, chuckling a little awkwardly. “That sounded awfully charming.”

“Everything you say is charming when you’re a charmer,” Patton responded, and Drew’s cheeks turned a shade darker as the awkwardness in his expression relaxed into something more akin to soft adoration.

Patton patted the bed directly in front of them and Remy. “Come over here, lovely.”

Drew did so willingly, pulling himself over so that he was once more part of the group. Patton smiled tenderly at him as he settled himself before reaching out and gently taking his face in their hands.

“Stop me if you need to, okay?” Patton said. Drew half-laughed, half-scoffed.

“I doubt I’ll want you to stop, much less need you to,” he told them, and Patton smiled wider at him before leaning in, their careful and loving hold on Drew’s face holding him still until their lips were connected.

The kiss was longer than Patton and Remy’s had been, more planned, but it was still just as welcoming and comfortable, as if this wasn’t their first kiss but instead their hundredth; somehow both oddly familiar and excitingly new.

Without even realizing it, Drew found himself leaning it, placing his hands on Patton’s waist to hold steady as he did so, more than happy to drown in the kiss as much as he could.

Patton pulled away when he was reaching the edge of breathlessness, smiling brightly at Drew even as they moved back, still holding his face. “How was that?”

“I love you,” Drew said as an answer, letting out a laugh in the form of a huff as he went on, “Oh, god be damned, Patton, I love you.”

“Language,” Patton chided lightly, though they both knew it meant nothing.

“Hey now,” Remy spoke up, drawing Drew and Patton’s attention. They were pouting, though amusement flashed in their eyes. “I’m feeling a little forgotten over here.”

“Forget you?” Drew asked, normally suave tone now simply breathless and incredulous. “I could never.”

“Then prove it,” Remy demanded, reaching out and making grabby hands at Drew despite the fact that he was barely two feet from them. Drew didn’t mind it, however, simply laughing at the display of affection. He gently took Patton’s hands off his cheeks, kissing the back of both of them (to the delight of Patton) before releasing them and closing the small gap between him and Remy.

“There you are,” Remy said, as if Drew had been hiding somewhere far off and not simply kissing their partner (their partner, not just his partner but Remy’s too) instead of Remy. “Do I get kisses now?”

Drew laughed. “Yes,” he said, not bothering to drag the moment out as he reached forwards, cupping one of Remy’s cheeks in his hand and pulling them closer. “You get kisses now.”

He kept to his promise as he kissed Remy, not holding it out for one long kiss like he and Patton had done but instead kissing them over and over and over again, quick little kisses that lasted seconds but still meant worlds to the both of them, that were still caring and inviting and loving even if they were brief. It worked better that way, Drew decided, especially when Remy evidently grew bored of just kissing his lips and moved on to covering the rest of his face with kisses instead.

“I’m starting to think I really am a jerk for not confessing anything sooner,” Remy said when they had, apparently, deemed Drew’s face properly kissed, now pulled back so that they could look Drew in the eyes as they grinned lopsidedly. “I’ve been severely neglecting giving you- and Patton- all the kisses you two deserve.”

“Not that that ever stopped you when we were friends,” Patton pointed out, leaning against Remy’s side and reaching out to hold one of Drew’s hands as well.

“That’s because even then I knew I was making a mistake,” Remy said, happily taking advantage of the fact that Patton was once more close to them to kiss their forehead.

“I just can’t believe the people who locked us up had it right,” Drew said, squeezing Patton’s hand as the hand he had been using to cup Remy’s cheek moved to hold one of Remy’s hands. “We really have been horribly oblivious, huh?”

Remy laughed. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate, yeah,” they agreed before smiling mischievously. “We’re not going to let them know that though, right?”

“Oh, goodness, of course not,” Drew responded. “Otherwise they might start thinking locking people up will always work, or, even worse, they might get an ego boost.”

“I think Roman will explode if that happens- his ego’s already big enough as is,” Patton added. Drew’s and Remy’s attention immediately turned to them, both looking shocked, to which Patton defended, “What? I can be petty towards our friends too!”

Drew chuckled as he quickly kissed Patton’s cheek. “That you can, dearheart, that you can.”

“It’s not like you’re wrong either,” Remy pointed out. “Really, letting Roman know this planned work might kill him. We’re just going to have to pretend it didn’t, for his sake.”

Patton and Drew both nodded as solemnly as they could given the circumstances. “I vote that we tell them this experience has really brought us closer together in our friendship instead,” Drew offered. “That way we can still be horribly obnoxious-” Drew paused to peck quick kisses to each of his partners’ noses to prove his point before continuing “-and also keep Roman and his ego safe.”

“A perfect plan,” Patton agreed. “Though… what do we do if they catch us calling each other partners?”

“We tell them how we decided we really felt like ‘friends’ no longer properly described how close our friendship was, so we decided to start using partners,” Remy answered immediately with a grin. “Really, we can turn anything into just another extent of our ‘friendship’ is we try hard enough. The real question is for how long do we do that? When do we give them their satisfaction?”

Drew hummed in thought for a moment before he said, a wicked smile racing his face as he spoke, “I’d say we’ll have to wait them out at least until we get married. We can tell them it’s for tax benefits.”

“We’re going to get married?!” Patton exclaimed, eyes shining at the thought.

“Well, I mean-” Drew floundered for a moment, clearly having gotten so caught up in how to best taunt their friends that he hadn’t even considered the implications of what he had said “-we’ve only just got together, but- if this lasts and we don’t regret anything, well-”

“We’re going to get married!” Patton repeated, this time with no question in their tone, tugging Drew closer to themself and pulling Remy closer as well so that they were all squished against each other. “We’re going to get married and we’re going to move out and find a better apartment with one huge bed- oh, or we could get a house with one big bed, and we’re going to adopt a dog- no, two dogs- no, ten dogs!- and-”

Drew gently stopped Patton’s rant by kissing them until they were breathless, resting his forehead against theirs when he finished. “And we’ll drive our friends absolutely insane with what a lovely life we’ll be living,” he added softly.

Remy moved to press their forehead against both of their partners’. “And we’ll be in love forever,” they added, which was an extraordinarily cheesy thing to say, but in the moment, it also felt like the right thing to say.

In fact, pressed against the two most important people in the world to them, still feeling giddy at everything that had happened in the span of barely fifteen minutes, Remy felt as if, for the first time in a long time, absolutely everything was just as it should be.

They were looking forward to getting used to that feeling.

#mosleepceit #ts patton #ts janus #ts remy #ts sleep #ts roman #ts virgil #emile picani #ts logan mentioned #the cryptid speaks #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #dani #argo #this fic is a huge mess but hopefully it's a decent one sbdfcsdjf

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years

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Raphael and madzie!! please I will sell you my firstborn for some Raphael and madzie content. Like him babysitting and sleepovers and playing dress up and watching Disney movies together. Raphael wearing this tiara and him and madzie playing together. Baking and singing together, going on trips to the park together and Raphael just being so happy.-

-Like if you think about it they are technically cousins🤔 with the whole found family thing, Catarina and Magnus are siblings Raphael is Magnus’ son ergo madzie and Raphael are cousins but they still think of each other as siblings. Raphael is her big brother! Please🥺

ok anon i hope you know that you are literally my new favorite person in the whole wide world and this ask is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i will literally never shut the fuck up about raphael and madzie i will make this brotp a thing if it KILLS me just you watch

idk if id say they are technically cousins because i don’t know if catarina and magnus consider themselves siblings - definitely family for sure, but i get the feeling it’s more of a “generic” family feeling rather than a Specific Dynamic you know? but either way this is found family so it’s not like family tree/architecture is actually that stiff and matters that much, RAPHAEL IS MADZIE’S BIG BRO idc

and it’s literally canon that raphael is the best, most thoughtful, caring and dedicated older brother so like!!! honestly it’s what madzie deserves. she has a wonderful mom (two if you subscribe to dotarina raising madzie together <3) and underful uncles and a wonderful brother who is always on her side and would do anything for her, and that! is! fantastic!

especially because like madzie is implied to be used to big families, since iris was going around making an army of warlocks basically lmao and like of course that was an abusive family dynamic but the point is that she was used to having siblings. but she was also implied to be the eldest and now she is the youngest! and she gets to have a nice big bro who takes care of her and plays with her and has her as a priority and i just 🥺🥺🥺

and god not to be a slut for raphael and rosa but i picture raphael just telling madzie all that he could about rosa?? you know??? he’s all like “you have an older sister too, you know? it’s a shame you never got to meet” and madzie kind of tilts her head and asks him to tell her about it. so raphael does. he sits down with her and shows her pictures of the both of them together from their childhood up until her death, and he tells her all the stories he possibly can. he says, “she would have loved you just as much as me. she always wanted to be someone’s older sister. said she wanted to take care of them like i take care of her” and madzie is all like “she sounds sweet. i wanted to know her, too” and raphael tears up slightly and he’s like “yeah. yeah. me too, cariño” and she hugs him

and like not to slut over this but i like to think that raphael teaches madzie about the monarch butterflies and día de los muertos and one day they are playing outside and a monarch lands on madzie?? and madzie calls it “rosa” and the butterfly is just flying over her head, alternating between her and raphael, for the whole afternoon? and raphael chokes up. fuck it all the legends are true, i love this alright

just like.... obviously raphael’s relationship with madzie is not some kind of substitute for his relationship with rosa, because madzie deserves better than that and no one can be rosa but rosa. raphael loves madzie for madzie, because she is sweet but fierce, extremely intelligent and with a playful/slightly mischievous (in a good way) side that is slowly blooming as time goes by and she heals from her abuse more and more. she is also good, endlessly caring, kind, compassionate, imaginative, affectionate. madzie is madzie and that’s all she needs to be. but the idea that raphael has someone to share rosa with, even if madzie obviously doesn’t feel about her the same way raphael did as they never met, but to bring her into this new family in a way... and let madzie knows that she also has another sibling looking out for her, even if from another plane... that’s nice and good food okay. and i think madzie would want to know about her, just like she tells raphael about her other siblings from when she lived with iris, even if they never got to be too close (cuz i doubt iris would risk letting them become very close and eventually realize her abuse and possibly rebel against her)

maybe it’s madzie herself who brings it up, she asks raphael about the pictures in his home or about his “ave rosa” plaque 🥺 and he tells her about it and makes sure that she knows that he doesn’t love rosa more or less than he does madzie, just differently. they are both his little sisters no matter what

anyway! onto more rapha&madzie focused headcanons. first of all you are so correct about playing dress up and shit, raphael is a SIMP and a sucker for his lil sis so he absolutely will wear a tiara if she asks no questions asked. simon sees it one time and he doesn’t even consider making fun of him because raphael shoots him a glare that absolutely reads as “i double dare you, motherfucker”. not because uwu girly stuff just because he has this whole serious vibe and there he is with a tiara and tiny braids. we stan

also look i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, raphael absolutely learns how to handle black/kinky hair for madzie. he was used to doing rosa’s hair but that was very likely straight or just wavy hair. madzie’s hair texture is different and raphael makes it a point to learn everything he can about how to take care of it and make hairstyles that she might like and won’t hurt her, okay? and yes i know that madzie straightens her hair but i like to think that over time she stops. i kinda headcanon that one of the reasons she did it was to look closer to iris, plus just the fact that as a white abuser i doubt she exactly planted it on madzie to love her natural hair. but over time living with catarina and being closer to a mostly-poc family and seeing maia and other beautiful black women with their natural hair and/or afro hairstyles, she stops straightening it, and everyone encourages her, raphael included. he even uses that, like, “i’ve been learning how to do these hairstyles for you, you know” and he shows her some and she gets so excited about trying them and it’s great

(initially he has catarina’s supervision, because again black hair is important and even if raphael is a moc he’s still nonblack. but catarina trusts him and he’s always so careful and makes sure to always listen to what she says, asks questions and all but takes notes lmao, so it works)

and baking!!! i mean look madzie is gonna be naturally prone to liking to bake, as a warlock and shit. and if regular kids already play with making potions, warlock kids are definitely even worse, especially because she does see catarina, dot, and magnus doing that all the time so it’s one of the things that she likes to mimick. and baking is basically potion making but edible and solid lmao. but like she loves it, mixing the batter, adding sprinkles, seeing as the textures change and the taste builds and stuff like that, you know? she’s definitely fascinated by it especially because she does it without magic and it’s just, wow, so cool to her?? and raphael as the cook that he is is more than happy to teach her, bake with her, and see her enthusiasm. raphael with oven mitts taking a batch of cookies out of the oven yall. i need a second

and like i absolutely subscribe to genius madzie because LOOK that girl is endlessly fucking smart and so intelligent especially for her age, not to mention powerful and observant and just, she’s brilliant. and with both catarina and magnus, huge nerd extraordinaires, and possibly maia because i like to pepper in the fact that maia and raphael are dating, she gets all the incentive she could possibly want to want to learn about both mundane science and magical theory

but in short like! raphael getting her those chemistry sets for kids, you know? where you have some recipes and you can mix up ingredients and they change color or otherwise change and shit? my friend had one of those when we were kids and my god i loved it so much, i was just fascinated. i think madzie definitely would love it, and raphael knows that she will, so he takes a whole day off for when he brings her this gift because he knows they will be playing all afternoon. and they do! she’s super excited about it and raphael as usual is all careful and teaching her how to do it properly without spilling and taking the measures appropriately and stuff. and it’s super sweet

initially they follow the recipes and raphael’s autistic ass is just delighted to do that, but madzie quickly starts doing some #improv, and again, because she is a genius, she quickly starts to figure out what each substance does. so she’s texting theories, trying out experimenting, seeing if she’s right, trying to asses her work? you know? basically literally a mini scientist using the scientific method and stuff and raphael is so proud of her and in awe of how smart she is and he tells her that she’s the smartest kid he’s ever met and kisses her forehead and she giggles and is just super excited??

also sometimes she asks raphael what he thinks and he’s just like “uhhh” because he has no idea lmao he’s just happy to see her do her thing and help her with the practical parts. and she giggles at him and she’s lowkey outraged but again, she’s just sweet and he loves her

i also 100% think it was madzie who figured out a potion to make raphael able to eat (oh look what is this fic that mentions that doing here) because FUCK mundane raphael all my homies hate mundane raphael, the heavenly fire made him a daylighter. and she could see how sad raphael was that he didn’t get to eat at all, especially because he clearly loved food and he always had this sort of longing when they were cooking together, you know? it also made her sad that he couldn’t try her cooking, and he was always telling her that to cook, you need to always taste what you’re making, and once she says “but you can’t do that” and he looked so sad she immediately felt bad about it, even if obviously it isn’t her fault

anyway my point is she knows how much this means for raphael and she wants him to be able to eat human food again, both for him and for herself. so she spends a long time studying vampire anatomy/digestive system, food properties, and magic, and she eventually figures out a potion that he can take before a meal that makes him able to eat. it goes slowly, initially he can only drink, but eventually she does figure out a way to make him eat anything and he just cries like a baby tbh. she is worried for a second but then he takes her in his arms and hugs her fiercely and peppers kisses on her face and says that this is one of the best things anyone’s ever done for him and that he’ll “forever be in her debt” or something that makes her laugh because raphael doesn’t owe her anything, he’s her brother. and he tears up all over again

of course that takes some years but they’re immortal so who cares. and catarina is SO proud of her little genius for that, too. raphael and maia include the potion as courtesy for any vampire who orders food at taki’s and share the recipe and it’s just a small revolution in the vampire world and madzie is already making history like hot damn. GENIUS MADZIE OKAY

but of course first and foremost she is a kid and deserves to be a kid, i just love her being naturally curious and interesting in researching and learning and stuff. but of course they also play a lot, and keep trying to out-cheat each other as she has magic and he has super abilities and the game becomes more seeing who can cheat the most and get away with it than anything else lol. and it’s its own brand of fun

also, raphael keeps trying to get madzie to eat healthy but the second he averts his eyes she’s like “abrakadabra this is now ice cream” and he’s SO frustrated. absolutely nothing can stop her from doing it. “if you eat these carrots i’ll buy you ice cream later”. guess what she can just turn it into ice cream now. your tactics are meaningless

also madzie playing dressing up! and she wants to be Stylish like her mom and her big bro and her uncle magnus but of course she’s a kid so her sense of style is essentially book magnus lmao but raphael 100% indulges her in all her endeavours and helps her make her outrageous outfits and shit. she likes colorful stuff as we’ve seen and he paints her nails and stuff. sometimes she makes herself mini suits mimicking or straight up matching raphael’s and raphael thinks it’s the cutest thing. especially when she like, imitates his blazer but keeps wearing a boa as well or something. aioudjsauihda i love kids and fashion can you tell

and she sometimes picks out clothes for him and guess what? raphael 100% wears them because it’s madzie and he is s o f t for her

and singing!!! and DANCING!!! there is no way raphael can’t dance no matter how hard he tries to pretend otherwise, and between him, dot, and magnus, madzie just loves to dance and becomes a great dancer in no time. raphael loves twirling her around. also him teaching her the jarabe tapatío you can’t tell me that she wouldn’t be all over that shit. the playing with the dress, the bright colors, dancing around the sombrero.... bitch she would love it. and they have so much fun doing their little improvised version of that and she claps and he has his hands behind his back and has the greatest smile on his face and she’s having so much fun

also raphael loves reading for her!!!! and eventually when they move away from reading books with pictures she starts creating her own “holograms” to illustrate the stories with magic, and raphael is so proud of her!! she’s just immensively creative and makes such beautiful illustrations for the stories and as raphael reads she changes around the setting she’s creating and it’s so fun and they both like it so much?? and she eventually falls asleep on his lap and he tucks her in and kisses her forehead and 🥺🥺

she also likes to paint and idk why but i have a feeling that raphael fucking sucks at painting, so that’s funny and he smiles and says that she has so much more talent than him...

and every time they are together raphael has the hugest smile on, it just doesn’t leave his face for a second. especially when they are playing outside in the sun and he just so fucking happy and basking in the warmth and playing with her, you know? and as madzie grows older, talking and just chilling together as well? you know? he just loves her so much and his cheeks almost hurt by the end and just aaaaaaaaa they are the sibling dynamic we DESERVE and DEMAND

#raphael santiago #madzie loss #shadowhunters #sh #brotp: a bright new sky #ask #anonymous #long post #like really long i got excited but i don't regret anything #rosa santiago #brotp: they're the same stars in mexico #maiaphael #real quick mention but there #catarina loss

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lovetoreidd · 4 years

Text

Baked With Love - Spencer Reid

Um, hello! This is my first fic ever. Not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous, but I already write normally and I’ve watched twelve seasons of Criminal Minds, so I’m hoping I can get Spencer Reid right. I hope you like it! I think it’s decent, very cute.

You want to make cookies with an old family recipe, but quickly learn you’re not cut out for the kitchen. Luckily, your boyfriend, Spencer Reid seems to be a natural.

Okay, so the team is mentioned in this, and it’s with Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid. They’re the characters that I know the best so...

Warnings: None, it’s pure fluff. Unless you should be warned for kissing?

Word Count: 1.7k

- - - - -

Growing up, your mom made the most delicious double chocolate chip cookies ever. Your whole family did. You loved the chocolate cookie, mixed with mint and chocolate chips.

When you went to college, you stayed close to home, so your mom continued to bake the cookies for you. You had always been too nervous about messing up the recipe to try making them yourself. Your mom didn’t mind. She liked baking them for you.

“(Y/N), I can’t mail you cookies. You’re going to have to bake them yourself.” lately, you’d been craving those double chocolate chip cookies. Your mom was nowhere near Virginia, where you lived after joining the BAU as the Communications Liason. JJ, a profiler on the team, was previously the Liason, and you had big shoes to fill.

You seemed to have amazing luck, though, because you had a beautiful genius to help you get settled in.

The two of you clicked immediately. Not to sound cliché, but it was honestly love at first sight. The minute you looked into those hazel eyes, you knew that you were going to be with him.

“Guys, this is Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N), our new Communications Liason,” your team leader, Aaron Hotchner announced. You stood in the briefing room nervously, already slightly uncomfortable being surrounded by people that were trained to pick up on every little move that you made.

Hotch went around introducing everybody. “This is our Technical Analyst, Penelope Garcia.”

You looked at the colorful woman, who wore a kind smile and immediately found something about you to compliment. “I love your blouse! It’s a gorgeous shade of purple.”just from the two sentences and her bubbly persona, you knew that you would be friends with her.

The other introductions weren’t as memorable. There was Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, who insisted that you call her JJ, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, and then...”

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced himself to you, cutting off Hotchner. He held out his hand, which you quickly shook. The man named Derek seemed to find the action amusing.

“I thought you didn’t shake hands, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink. You had to fight off a smile while you looked up at him. He was tall, thin, his hair looked like it was the best texture to run your fingers through. “I- I uh...” he looked around, hoping someone would save him. “She carries hand sanitizer around, I’m not too worried about the germs.”

You were surprised that he noticed. The last time that you’d touched the bottle was after shaking Hotch’s hand for the first time. He must have been watching you for a while. The thought made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Yeah, I’m not really a germaphobe but I’m still not a fan.” just thinking about it made you pull the bottle out and squirt a bit of the liquid into your hands, enjoying the familiar smell. You offered the bottle to him, to which he stuck out his hand.

The rest of the team found our entire encounter interesting. Derek stifled a laugh. “Is this how nerds flirt?” you didn’t need a mirror to know that your face was flaming. Spencer’s was too.

From that moment on, you were done for.

That was over a year ago. From then on, you felt a pull towards Spencer that you couldn’t explain. You started dating around two months after joining the team, and things were pure bliss. You’d even moved into his apartment just a few weeks ago.

“I don’t even have the recipe!”

“No, but I know how texting works. I’ll send it to you.”

Before you could even protest, she’d hung up. You groaned, setting your phone on the arm of the couch and staring at the ceiling. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You looked over at your boyfriend, smiling at the sight of him in sweatpants and a black t shirt instead of one of his suits, though you loved that look on him too. You were donned in old shorts and one of his old Caltech sweatshirts. “My mom is making me bake cookies because she won’t.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that make sense? She lives in a completely different state.” you shrugged, sulking. A smile tugged at his beautiful, pink lips as he sat next to you. “I can do it for you, you know.”

Immediately, you shook your head. “No! It’s my family recipe. I have to do it.”

“(Y/N), have you ever actually baked before?”

You paused. “...No. But it’s never too late to start!”

Spencer had opened his mouth to speak, but instead, your phone vibrated. You looked down at it and saw that your mother had texted you a picture of the recipe. You looked to Spencer, smiling. “You stay here, I’m gonna go make the best cookies that you’ve ever tasted!”

- - - - -

You weren’t going to be able to follow through with your promise.

The batter was lumpy, and that was a nice description of it, and it tasted incredibly bitter. Still, you shrugged it off and placed the batter onto a cookie sheet in uneven piles.

While they cooked, you snuggled up to Spencer on the couch and watched a Doctor Who rerun. It had been one of the many things that the two of you had in common.

An entire episode had finished when you both felt and heard Spencer chuckling. You wrinkled your nose, looking up at him curiously from your position on his chest. “What?”

“I think you forgot about the cookies.”

Your eyes widened and you shot off of the couch and ran to the kitchen, surprised that the smoke alarm hadn’t gone off. When you pulled the cookies out of the oven, they were almost completely black. You groaned.

“Are you sure that you don’t need some help, babe?” Spencer stood by the refrigerator, an infuriating smug look on his face. You glared at him but still pulled the recipe up on your phone for him to look over.

You sat on the edge of the counter and watched him separate the ingredients, putting certain ones together. Soon, he got to work, mixing the flour, baking soda, and salt together.

After just a few minutes of observing, you grew bored and slid off the counter to stand behind him. Your arms wrapped around from behind as you pressed your left cheek against his back. His movements stopped, and he turned around, engulfing you into his arms.

Just like always, you melted into him, a goofy smile crossing your face. “The cookies aren’t gonna make themselves.” you didn’t want to stop hugging him, but you really wanted those cookies. He rolled his eyes and released you to go back to the task at hand. You returned to your spot on the counter.

Things were going smoothly, and you couldn’t help but be jealous because of how much better his batter looked. “How do you do that?” you crossed your arms, glaring at him but not actually mad.

He shrugged, turning to you. “Baking is essentially chemistry. It’s all about mixing the right amount.” he returned to the batter, using a scoop to put almost perfectly even amounts of batter on the cookie sheet.

Afterwards, he put the sheet into the oven and brought both the whisk he had been mixing with and the scoop to the sink. “Spence, what do you think you’re doing?”

Spencer looked to you, brows furrowed. His tongue darted across his lips as his eyes traveled to the items in his hand. “Washing these?”

You placed a hand to your chest, gasping. “Baby, did you hit your head? You don’t rinse, you lick the batter off. Everyone knows that.”

He shook his head, watching as you took the scoop and licked a bit of batter off. “(Y/N), there’s raw eggs in the batter. You could get salmonella!” you swiped some batter with your finger and booped his nose. He almost immediately wiped his nose, glaring at you jokingly. You innocently went back to cleaning the scoop.

“Just try it. Please?” you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and a pout that he’d never been able to say no to. Reluctantly, Spencer did the same with his whisk. His eyes widened as he stared down at it. “Is it good?”

After a nod of his head, he continued licking the whisk, a small smile on his lips. “If we get salmonella, I might become an unsub looking for revenge because of the woman who wronged him.”

You rolled your eyes at his stupid joke, shrugging. “Worth it.” you dropped your scoop in the sink, he followed with the whisk, before placing his hands on your waist and pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

It was moments like that that were your favorite. Sweet, lingering kisses that somehow silently communicated the love the two of you shared. You didn’t need grand gestures or anything like that. Just each other.

A small amount of time passed before the both of you pulled away, still holding each other close. You stayed silent. The moment held an intimacy you couldn’t replicate.

You didn’t know how long the two of you had been standing there for before Spencer let go of you. “It’s been ten minutes, babe. I need to check on the cookies.”

Without his arms around you, you felt cold, but the heat from the open oven quickly changed that. The smell of the cookies filled your nose and you grinned, even more excited.

Spencer had to literally grab your hand to stop you from grabbing a cookie, laughter bubbling out of him. “They’re fresh out of the oven, calm down. I don’t want you to burn your hands.”

Not like you cared. In your opinion, it would have been worth it if it meant you got to try a cookie. They looked perfect. You pulled out your phone and took a picture, sending it to your mother and saying that Spencer was too good to you. She responded by telling you to marry him.

Looking over at him, you smiled. Oh, I will.

Finally, he let you pick up a cookie, admiring it. “I love you so much, Spencer.”

You took a bite from the cookie, memories from your childhood flowing through your mind. It really was perfect, baked with love and everything.

“But I might love this cookie just a little more.”

#spencer reid #fluff #baking #criminal minds #he's so cute i can't

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sunnytumbies · 5 years

Note

I'm somewhat confident that Amy's stress baking enables one or more of the other characters to then Stress Eat the baking, which could lead to Tummy Fic (tell me if I'm right and also you don't have anon asks turned on. c; might get more asks if you hit that switch!)

Whoops! Anons, you are now free to enter–sorry bout that!

So, funny story: Tiny, you are right–you are so right, in fact, that I decided to write a lil fill for this! I had like 500 words written and then accidentally closed the tab :’), and for whatever reason my response was even more determined writing to finish it. Long story short, it’s now a /4391 word monster/ that I’m not even all that proud of, but I’m posting it anyway! It’s gonna be confusing & maybe a headache for me later because this is happening later in the story than the first “major story event” fic I’ll be posting but...here we are.

Content warning: this fic involves dysphoria, mentions of menstruation, self-loathing, and binge eating as a response to stress. Please be mindful should you choose to read!

___________________________________________________________

Amy hums lightly to herself, dusting the last of the madeleines with powdered sugar, breathing in the comforting aromas, honey and lemon mingling with cinnamon and apple, almond and vanilla, chocolate and bread. She can’t pretend that this was a good decision, can’t act like she would not have possibly benefit more from a day of studying than a day of baking, but the knots in her chest have finally started to loosen, and it’s hard to take that as anything but a win. She plates the madeleines and slides them into the last remaining patch of free space on the L-shaped countertop, clutching the notebook that belonged to her mother close to her chest.

It’s not that Amy only ever bakes French desserts. She adores the challenge of baklava with its stubborn phyllo dough, loves the thrill and the spectacle of a good Baked Alaska; it’s just that sometimes, she needs to hear her mother’s voice in the only way she knows how–baking the way Maman taught her, dutifully reading the advice scrawled in the margins of her recipe notebook in eccentric cursive, cleaning as she cooks (”Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir, Amelie,” she’ll find herself muttering at times in a poor imitation of her mother. It translates to “It is better to prevent than to heal,” which she thinks is sort of intense as far as wisdom about cleanliness goes, but then, she’s never forgotten it). Professors will likely always butcher her last name, flattening the syllables into something harsh and ugly; classmates will continue to express their envy at the ease with which they assume she sails through her foreign language requirement, oblivious to the unique heartache of struggling to write in a language that flows from her lips with more ease than English sometimes; but no one can take this from her, her mother’s recipes in her mother’s own words, the familiar tastes and smells of home.

It started with the croissants, shaping the dough she’d prepped earlier this week in preparation to make pains au chocolat--she can’t stop her lips from quirking up in a small, proud smile, now, looking at how perfectly they rose, how flaky the croissants are, how tantalizingly the smell of chocolate and freshly-baked bread is wafting off of them, how they glisten with brushed-on butter. But when her eyes glanced over the mostly-full bottle of fruity olive oil in the pantry, how could she resist whipping up a lemon curd tart, with its buttery almond crust and rich lemon custard filling? And it would have simply been silly to waste the lemon zest she had leftover from the tart--not when she could make the madeleines, tiny delicious cakes sweetened with honey and brown sugar, the tang of the lemon zest cutting through the sweetness in the most delicious way, complimented by the dusting of powdered sugar. Then, she thought, that was an awful lot of citrus--she simply had to offset it with a quick apple mille-feuille, the autumnal scent of roasted apples, maple syrup, and apple brandy making her wistful for October. But wait--no mille-feuille was complete without the bourbon whipped cream on top, and shouldn’t poor lactose intolerant Cal have plenty of options too? Besides, a simple spiced bread wouldn’t take too long, and the mixture of star anise, ginger, and cinnamon, sweetened with honey and rife with dried apricots and plums, would be sure to make a delicious sweet toast for breakfast.

Even still, it wasn’t truly over until she noticed that several cartons of eggs--which she, for obvious reasons, tended to buy in bulk--were set to expire soon, and it would certainly be foolish to waste so much money--really, she hardly had a choice! She made chocolate macarons with orange ganache, a cherry buttermilk clafoutis; she made kouign-amann, with its buttery dough and sugary crust, and, in a desperate bid to eat through the eggs, another batch of macarons, this time with raspberry-rose buttercream. Struck with a flash of inspiration, she used the egg yolks she’d set aside while whipping the whites into stiff peaks fit for a meringue to make toasted-flour sablé, a sort of moist little sugar cookie, and while she was at it threw in a batch of snickerdoodles--cookies were easy to both make and get rid of in bulk, and besides, they were Cal’s favorite. Lastly, she decided to tackle a chocolate pound cake--quatre-quarts au chocolat de juliette, her mother’s handwriting rebuked her, along with an all-caps reminder to bake it in a bain-marie, PAS au four!!!!!. It made Amy laugh a little, but she couldn’t deny that the water-bath made for a much richer, much more moist final product than the oven.

She feels a brief rush of shame, looking over it all--it’s truly an improbable amount of baking she’s done, here--but her heart is full, her back aching in a satisfying, productive way. If nothing else, she’s made the house smell like home and has ensured that anyone who enters can leave full and satisfied. Finally, she removes her apron and checks her watch--perfect. She has about half an hour to get to work for her 8pm-midnight shift, a fairly non-intensive desk position at one of the campus libraries, and she’ll more likely than not have enough free time to look over her chemistry notes. As for the baked goods, she opts to leave them out, but takes a few moments to write out sticky notes (“dairy free! Come right in, Cal!”; “full of dairy! Cals beware!”), and smiles gently as she thinks of Cal coming home to a warm kitchen and plenty to eat. “That boy is too damn skinny,” she mumbles to herself fondly, and flicks off the kitchen light, leaving the one above the oven on to bathe the kitchen in a warm, welcoming glow.

Cal is not having a good day.

He shivers as another gust of wind blows what feels like through him, making his teeth chatter as he attempts to sink even lower into his hoodie. The slumping motion does not agree with his cramping lower belly, and he groans, straightening back up with an arm looped around his stomach.

Any day at this time of month for him is a difficult one. He knows for a fact that he “passes,” but he still feels uncomfortably seen, feels like he has to hide himself from view as much as possible. It certainly doesn’t help that his skin hurts, that his belly bloats and his bound chest becomes sore, that despite the fact that he no longer bleeds, he gets all the associated symptoms, yeah, thanks for that, genetics. Even so, Cal isn’t new to this, exactly, and he can deal with the cramping, can even handle the accompanying dysphoria like a champ, but today has been extraordinarily awful. He couldn’t sleep last night, feeling in turns too hot and too cold, and barely made it to his bio class this morning; all the coffee machines were down in the dining hall, meaning his eyes were burning with exhaustion by the time he was halfway through bio, let alone his other two classes of the day; perhaps most damning at all, the paper he’s been counting on being due next week is actually due this week, causing him to spend an extra few hours in the library after class, barely awake, forcing himself to get something, anything onto the page; and, the cherry on top of it all, he missed the last bus home, hence tramping home now in the dark and the rain. More than one car has splashed him as it’s passed, and his jeans are practically soaked through.

He’s cold, he’s exhausted, he barely even made a dent in the paper, and his fucking stomach hurts, the cramps now joined by an anxious knot; as much as he wants to take comfort from the fact that he can see the apartment complex getting steadily closer, he also knows that he’s going to be home alone, and something about that just does not sit well with him at the moment that Cal doesn’t want to analyze, thank you very much.

He shivers his way up the stairs leading to the apartment, down the exceedingly long corridor, through the front door, and is almost immediately assailed by both a rush of welcome warmth and a rush of smells so delicious and overpowering that he knows immediately that today was a stress-baking day for Amy. Something drains out of Cal then, equal parts tension and restraint, the anxious buzzing of his thoughts thrown off by the sheer number of baked goods spread across the counter top. He lets his backpack fall to the floor with a thud. His stomach rumbles--he ate today, but not well--and he sort of knows he’s doomed when he catches the scent of chocolate, as well as when his eyes land on a plate of snickerdoodles (which very much does not make a lump rise in his throat, okay, it’s whatever, it doesn’t matter, Amy made his favorite cookie for him in the middle of her own stress-fueled baking marathon, it’s whatever). Amy will be home soon. Quincy, too, at some point. He’ll be fine. He just needs to do what he can until then, and there’s no shortage of snacks to keep him busy while he waits.

Shocking no one less than him, Cal has many, many regrets, and at least half of them are baked goods he has put into his body over the last hour. He whimpers a little, oh-so-gently palming his belly, which has distressingly little give even when he ventures to apply a little more pressure with his fingertips. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this bloated, heavy with food and swollen with almond milk, and he’d be lying if he said he’s not fighting tears, beyond ashamed to be in this state: slumped sitting on the floor, back supported by the side of the counter, shirt riding up to expose the pink flesh of his belly. He has to swallow thickly a few times, imagining the sugary sludge that’s surely squelching through his insides right now, trying to force back a dangerous burp that squeezes out anyway and leaves the taste of honey and cinnamon in the back of his mouth. He tried to be good, and that’s maybe what sucks the most. He started with a few snickerdoodles, ostensibly the only dessert on the counter that had been made for him, unable to hold back a little groan of pleasure at the taste, buttery and comforting and complemented perfectly by the crunch of cinnamon and sugar. He had four before pouring himself a tall glass of almond milk, chasing a few more cookies with it before deciding to investigate the irresistible scent of chocolate wafting from the plate of croissants. The chocolate might be a bit much for his lactose intolerance, he decided, and opted for two thick slices of the spiced bread instead, toasted and slathered with ghee. He swore they tasted like fall, like tramping through leaves and Halloween costumes when he was young. Something about filling his stomach after being so hungry and uncomfortable all day, recklessly, indulgently, eased the tightness of his chest, until he could scarcely even feel the chill from his still-damp jeans.

He had already begun to feel rather full, but his interest was still piqued by the croissants, and he hadn’t even tried the little sugary-looking roll things, or the macaroons, or the cake--Cal squeezes his eyes shut, now, swallowing hard, struggling to even think about how much he’s eaten, but unable to completely erase the contrast from his mind between the overflowing countertop when he first arrived and the countertop now, an alarmingly high number of the cluttered plates more empty than not. All that really matters, he guesses, is that at some point filling his tummy began to hurt more than help, and he kept doing it anyway, and now his cramps have merely been replaced with sickly twinges and upset burbles.

He tries to take a deep breath, which hitches as an ominous gurgle bubbles from the top to the bottom of his packed belly, and the tears he’s been clamping down on start to roll down his cheeks. He can’t do this, not alone, at least, and Amy’s shift still has 3 hours to go--they must have just barely missed each other. Part of him knows that he will probably feel worlds better if he simply allows himself to throw up, but he can’t handle that, not right now. He cradles his aching stomach for a moment, one trembling hand cupped under his lower belly, bloated and hot, and one resting on the hard little bloat of his tummy, even that feather-light touch ushering up a series of strained burps. After another moment of feeling his stomach contents swirl and slosh uncomfortably inside him, the nausea and misery outweigh his pride, and he hesitantly lets go of his aching stomach, swiping at his tears and pulling out his phone.

I...fucked up, he texts her, and sends it before he can think twice about it. She replies almost instantly, one of his favorite things about Amy: ?????????????And a moment later, while he’s still figuring out where to begin: everything okay, honey?

The fragile control Cal has over his emotions abruptly slips at that, and he lets out a choked sob, swallowing hard when the motion upsets his tummy further. It hurts so fucking much, but Amy, Amy who bakes his favorites even in the middle of her own mini-crisis, Amy who takes the time to write adorable little sticky notes oriented around Cal’s dietary restrictions, Amy who calls everyone in the world honey because she cares about everyone in the goddamn world, Amy the literal human ball of sunshine--just, fucking Amy, okay?

Yeah. I mean. I’m safe, but I’m not okay. I… Cal doubles over as a cramp twists deep in his belly, panting a little. Maybe it would be easier to just let himself be sick. You baked...a lot. I had a bad day.

:((((( did u see my notes???? what’s going on??????

Cal has to blink hard against the tears at that, a new layer of guilt joining the anxiety and the shame of all he’s eaten. Stress-baking or not, this all had to have taken Amy a few hours, and he’d eaten right through a fair amount of almost everything.

I’m sorry. I did see your notes. It’s not lactose, I just ate a /lot/ and I feel sick and I don’t know what to do

A moment later, his phone buzzes with a call. It’s Amy, of course.

“H-hey,” he manages, sniffing, and then hiccups just before a deep burp gurgles up from his churning belly, clamping a hand over his mouth for a moment as his gorge rises with it.

“Cal, honey,” Amy says, sounding so fucking sad for him. It’s not like she’s never seen the fallout of his stress-binging before. “How much did you eat?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cal says hoarsely, his throat burning from stubbornly swallowing back stomach acid. “I’m just nauseous and sick and--and—” He falters, feeling like a child. “And I just really had a bad day, like a really bad day, Amy, and I know your day wasn’t so good either or you wouldn’t be stress-baking but I just, I’m so fucking tired, and my paper is due and—” He gags, suddenly, and has to take a moment to collect himself, hyper-aware of Amy’s concerned silence on the other end of the line-- “and I can’t do this alone,” he finally manages, voice cracking, and it is only the knowledge that openly weeping would send him over the edge right now that keeps him from dissolving into exhausted tears.

“I’m so sorry, Cal. I wish I could be there,” Amy murmurs soothingly, and it’s almost, almost like she’s there. “If I could leave work I’d do it in a heartbeat, but I’m going to call Quincy for you, okay?”

Cal’s heart squeezes at that, half-anxiety, half-hope, and maybe something else, too, a deep sense of being known--Amy knows that Cal knows that she can’t leave work. Amy knows that there’s only one other person that he’d want. Amy knows that he can’t--because of anxiety, because of what he sees as a low stakes problem relative to Quincy’s very high-stakes life, because, because, because--reach out to him himself when he’s like this. “Okay,” he whispers, and hope she hears the gratitude in it.

“Of course,” she says, so warmly that it makes Cal’s heart ache a little. “Hang in there, okay? Try to stay calm for me. I’ll let you know when he’s coming.”

“Love you,” he mumbles, and lets his phone clatter to the floor as soon as he hears the beep that means she’s hung up, clutching at his belly, feeling his stomach lurch and rumble. He’s so fucking full. He’s such a fucking idiot.

Some time later, Quincy comes for him.

Cal startles when the door creaks open, then whimpers a little at the resulting complaints of his stomach. There’s just so much pressure, his stomach tight and hot as though nothing is moving at all, though with all that he feels burbling against his palm, that can’t possibly be true. Quincy looks a little frantic in the doorway before his eyes come to rest on Cal, still curled up pitifully on the floor, both hands pressed gently against his bloated stomach.

“Oh—” Quincy breathes, shutting the door behind him, crossing the space between them in an instant and crouching in front of Cal. “God, Cal, Amy scared me half to death. Are you alright?”

“I’m—” Cal has to stop and breathe, composing himself as a wave of nausea crashes over him, his stomach squelching unpleasantly. All at once, he realizes that he’s no longer alone, that perhaps even if he should keep suppressing everything, he no longer wants to, and he no longer cares if he’s sick, he just wants to feel better, wants to be in his bed, wants to be warm and comfortable and safe--all at once, he’s doubling over his own lap, sobbing his heart out, barely even registering the flicker of amusement he’d ordinarily feel at Quincy’s eyes going comically round behind his glasses. His stomach aches, pain ringing throughout his abdomen at the movement, and before he can process much more than that a warm palm folds itself over his distended stomach, firmly enough to quiet the cramping there, but lightly enough to keep from exacerbating the nausea.

“Cal,” Quincy says, in that low, soothing voice of his, “I am so sorry that you’re hurting, and I’m going to make that go away, but to get you feeling better, I have to get you off the floor. I can’t imagine that you are ready to move just now?”

“No,” Cal breathes, his usual shyness dominated by hours of physical discomfort. “Please, just—” Tears dribble down his cheeks, his lack of sleep and general exhaustion beginning to catch up with him.

Quincy seems to hear him anyway. “Okay, hey, heyheyhey, okay, that is perfectly fine. I’m here, alright? I’m here to help you feel better.”

Ever so gently, Quincy eases himself behind Cal, so that his back is supported by Quincy’s chest rather than the hard base of the kitchen counter. Equally gently, his arms wind around Cal’s waist, both hands coming to rest on his abused stomach. He applies pressure to the bloated space between Cal’s navel and his ribs, rubbing in broad, gentle strokes, almost immediately ushering up a deep belch that has Cal going slack with the smallest but most welcome measure of relief. Quincy is so damn warm, and his rough palm is heaven where it rests on his lower belly, supporting the bloat from below to take the strain off of his overfull stomach. His other hand moves from that space in the middle of his abdomen to his stomach, the noticeable overfull bulge where the organ ought to be, rubbing in gentle circles. The pressure is almost too much and Cal shifts to tell him so, succeeding only in ushering up several more rumbling belches, one right after the other, left gasping with the relief of it. He is still painfully aware of how full he is, packed utterly to the brim with food, but the release of trapped air is so needed and so lovely.

Quincy holds him like this for a while, coaxing up the occasional belch, paying extra attention to the twinges that make Cal groan with nausea. Cal finds his eyes watering again, this time with sheer gratitude for his dearest friends, for their kindness, for the quiet lack of judgement Quincy exhibits as he rubs his aching tummy. Eventually, Cal feels like he might be able to move without throwing up, and Quincy supports his weight with an arm around his waist as they make their way to Cal’s bedroom.

“I’ll be right back,” Quincy says after depositing Cal on the bed gently. “Amy said you’d want a hoodie and some shorts. How did she do?”

Cal smiles a little sadly, having trouble finding his voice, and Quincy barely misses a beat, busying himself retrieving one of Cal’s biggest hoodies and a soft pair of pajama shorts. “Either way, let’s give it a try. You should probably take your binder off--all that squeezing can’t be helping, and no wonder you’re shivering in those wet jeans!” He ducks into Cal’s bathroom for a moment, filling up the cup next to the sink with cold water from the tap, and offers it to Cal, making sure his shaking hands don’t cause a spill before he lets go. “Try to take some sips of that, okay? Trust me. We need to break up all that sugar.”

Cal can’t argue with that, nodding, and waits until Quincy lets the door swing mostly-shut behind him, taking the deepest breath he can manage. His stomach twinges as he bends over to put the water on his nightstand and lifts his arms to pull off his shirt. wriggling out of his binder, and he pants for a moment as the sudden release of pressure on his stomach causes the nausea to flare before it thankfully passes again. He puts on the hoodie, immediately comforted by the billowing fabric, and wriggles out of his jeans and into the pajama shorts as quickly as he can manage, forcing himself to take a measured sip of water. His stomach tightens around it, and he swallows hard.

“Hey,” Quincy says softly, knocking twice on the slightly-ajar door before pushing it completely open with his elbow. His hands are occupied with a tv tray, carrying a heating pad and a steaming mug of tea. “Don’t force it. You’re still very full.”

“Y-yeah,” Cal manages, finding his voice. “Tummy really hurts.”

“I know,” Quincy murmurs apologetically, offering Cal the heating pad. Cal practically melts when the heat makes contact with his sore belly, instantly beginning to soothe his cramping muscles, even working its magic on the fullness, just a little. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Cal. I know you’re very full, but when you can, you should try to drink some water and this tea. It’s peppermint, so it should help with the nausea.”

Flicking off the overheard light in lieu of Cal’s carefully-hung string lights, Quincy leaves the mug of tea on the bedside table closest to Cal, spreading the quilt at the foot of the bed over him, and Cal instinctively lets his head drop onto Quincy’s shoulder when he climbs onto the bed beside him.

Cal nearly weeps again when Quincy reaches for his bloated tummy without being asked, resuming a soothing pattern, rubbing wide, sweeping circles over his abdomen, applying pressure to the bloated place beneath his ribs, to his tense sides, to the hard knot of his stomach. Each instance of carefully-applied pressure coaxes up a series of rumbling belches that Cal didn’t realize he was holding in, eventually freeing up enough room for him to sip at the tea.

“Amy will be home soon,” Quincy says after several moments. “How are you feeling?”

“Like an idiot who stuffed my face with sweets all afternoon,” Cal mumbles, still wrestling with guilt, and Quincy frowns as his belly emits an audible squelch, smoothing a hand over it in slow arcs. Cal drinks a bit more deeply at the tea, unable to withhold a sigh of relief as it begins to fill the burbly places in his tummy, blissfully soothing the ache.

“You aren’t an idiot, Cal,” Quincy says sincerely. “Amy says this sometimes happens when you get overwhelmed. You’re overwhelmed.”

Something about the sincerity in his voice makes something big and terrifying shift in Cal’s chest, and he abruptly puts down the mug of tea in favor of hiding his face in Quincy’s chest, narrow frame wracked with tired sobs. He dimly registers that at least his stomach doesn’t react poorly to the movement. “I am,” he manages eventually, as Quincy gently shushes him, stroking his belly as though to keep it calm. “I am so exhausted, Quince.”

“So rest,” Quincy says simply, “at least for now. And when Amy gets here, we’ll talk about what we’re going to do next. Okay?”

Cal sniffs, nodding, still hiding his face, and Quincy lets him, simply bringing his arms around him, smoothing his hands over Cal’s back. Against all odds, particularly the still-overpowering sense of fullness, Cal feels his eyelids drooping. All of a sudden, everything has caught up with him, and he can barely form a coherent thought. It has been a day, his belly is now more warm than upset, and Quincy is a very, very comfortable pillow.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” Quincy says, and Cal feels the rumble of his chest as he gives a low chuckle, too far gone at this point to respond. He’s going to have a lot to explain when he wakes up, but for now…

For now, Cal lays with his head on Quincy’s shoulder, arms looped around his neck, and Quincy pulls the quilt up around them. “I’ve got you,” Quincy murmurs, and the next thing Cal knows is blessed sleep.

#tiny-tum #perhaps it's for the better since i s2g that entire 500 words was the first sequence describing what amy baked but #i think they were like. better words!#i digress this is what we've got #Amy #Cal #Quincy #stuffing #stress eating #stress baking #belly rubs #dysphoria #side fic #answered #i think the reason im so unhappy with this is that i want quincy to be somewhat mysterious until the major fics are released but also i just #cant imagine anyone being super invested until they know more about these ppl #which is fair #but...yeah! hope ppl enjoy!#why am i so anxious about this

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