#finally getting back to using my tablet after so long!! YAY

[graynide]

FIRST DETEY YAOI FANART on @riverstyx4's Magma! WOOOOOOOOOOO

and its all thanks to a particular moot on Twitter who kept pestering me to draw the ship, how quaint

also introducing a mini collab with @bobert-ramirez! lovely

bonus doodle courtesy to @bobert-ramirez! Plus my scratchy replys

[liminalmemories21]

⭐⭐⭐ (anything, really, but I'd love some of those sweet sweet DVD extras from 911: SG-Yay!)

Legitimately, I think everything made it into that fic. Normally @cecilyv restrains me (goes - yeah, okay this scene ended five paragraphs ago, please stop talking now, and makes everything better) and we have cut scenes that don't make it in. But this time I think we were both too in love with the universe to not put everything in, and absolutely everything found a home.

And, okay, we joke about how I write whatever @cecilyv tells me to - and this is true. But also, SGA was such an enormous part of my life for so long, and I loved it, and getting to participate in that fandom - even 20 years later - is kind of amazing and I love it.

All that being said, I can give you a snippet of the sequel we are (probably?) not writing.

Tommy stares at the list on his tablet, flicks back to the liberty request from two weeks before. And three weeks before that. Pokes the tablet some more. Leans back in his chair, resting his boot on his desk. Picks up the radio, “Sergeant de Luca, over?” 

A few seconds pass, then Sal’s voice over the radio, breathing heavily, “Sir?” 

“In my office, please.” 

“Sir.” Pause. “I’ve got a student.”

“Now, Sergeant.” 

Another pause, and then “Copy, sir.” 

Less than five minutes later, Sal knocks and Tommy waves him inside, gestures for him to sit. Stays leaning back in his chair, because  -- oh, he’s going to enjoy this. Looks down his nose at Sal, taps his tablet. “Liberty again, Sergeant?” 

Sal’s lips twitch slightly, but he says, “Yes, sir?” 

“We working you too hard here?” 

No response. 

“Or did you find something… interesting on the mainland.” De Luca stayed quiet, impassively staring at him. 

Tommy finally gives in. “Who is she, Sergeant?”

“Who is who, sir?” 

Tommy raises an eyebrow, scrolls through the list on his tablet. “I guess you don’t want leave this weekend.” 

Put upon sigh. 

And that’s how Sal is the first one to get married.

*********

Of all the ways that Pegasus has been a learning curve, has been a case in point of making up new protocols, this is probably his favorite. Athosian-Earth Wedding. Dr. Buckley is dealing with the paperwork (inventing the paperwork). He gets to officiate.

Also gets to watch Eddie cross his arms and glare at Sal sternly and ask what his intentions are.

While Elona stands behind Sal looking exasperated with them all. "I am a grown woman, Eddie. You're not even my father." Looks at Sal. "Where did he even get the idea that he had a say in this?"

Sal shifts uncomfortably. "Well, I had to ask someone's permission." Tommy takes in Elona's eyebrow, and winces. Sal sees it too, because he says hastily. "Shit. Not permission. Obviously not permission. Blessing? Is blessing acceptable?"

He kind of wants popcorn.

When Sal gets tired of watching Tommy gloat, he asks pointedly if he should be asking young Doctor Buckley what his intentions are towards Tommy? As Tommy's oldest friend and the closest thing he has to family in this galaxy, and probably in any other if he's being honest. Tommy contemplates it, and contemplates Evan's reaction, and almost (almost) says go for it, just to see what Evan would say.

It's less funny, when Dr Buckley (the elder) holds him back after morning briefing and leans back in her chair and studies him. "So, you and Buck?"

He shifts. "Yes? Ma'am."

"Yes? You're not sure?"

"No. Or yes." Tries again. "No, I'm not unsure. Yes, me and Evan."

Isn't quite sure what the edge of him and Evan are, what the shape of them is yet. But it's something, and he wants it be more of something. And they're taking it slowly.

Well, they're taking the emotional part of it slowly. The rest of it .... well, slow isn't the word he'd use.

[xoxo-mei]

Welcome Home - A Druig x Reader Oneshot

''Give the tablet back to your brother, Cody.''

I tried my best to keep the peace between my two oldest boys, but of course, Cody had a mind of his own. And giving back the device to Carter wasn't at the top of his list.

He sprinted up the stairs and closed the door behind him, leaving Carter crying on the couch. I put down my youngest daughter, Jessice, and walked over to Carter.

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, ''Don't cry, my darling. He'll be back in a second if he knows better.''

And, like I predicted, he walked back with the tablet as soon as he heard the car in the driveway. He knew better than to challenge his father, and I could hear the car already from a block away due to my power.

The front door opened.

''Where are my babies?'' All the kids stood up to meet Druig at the door.

A smile covered on my face and I walked over to pick up Jessica, letting her hug her father as well.

''How was it? Is Sersi okay?'' I kissed his cheek.

He sighed, ''As well as can be expected. She's still incredibly heartbroken she hadn't noticed it sooner, but the acceptance is getting there.''

''Good,'' Druig picked one of the boys up to swing around and I closed the door behind him, ''I was thinking we could bring the kids to my parents' tomorrow evening. We can finally have that date night we had planned.''

My husband smiled, an arm around my shoulders, ''I'd love that idea. Why not?''

He pressed a kiss to my cheek before paying his undivided attention to the kids.

-

The whole day went by smoothly.

Druig was about to get home, he texted he'd be a bit later, but I didn't mind. As long as he came home.

I was sitting at the table, drawing with Cody, Carter, Brent and Viola whilst Jessica was napping on the couch.

Viola walked over to me, shoving her drawing into my hands, ''Look, mommy,'' she pointed at the drawing, ''this is us.''

''Oh, really?'' I smiled brightly, my eyes raking over the seven different people, ''It's beautiful, honey. Should I put it on the fridge to show daddy?''

She nodded excitedly. I deserted my seat to walk over to the kitchen. There was still some free places left for drawings but not much more. The kids loved to put up their drawings, just so they can point at it and show Druig what they made.

I grabbed a magnet and placed it at the top, making sure the drawing wasn't covering Brent's drawing.

My head turned around to see the kids still drawing. But I did notice Brent wanted the same marker as Cody. ''Brent, wait your turn, honey. Cody will give it to you when he's done, right, sweetheart?'' I called out from the kitchen.

Cody glanced at me and nodded, an innocent look on his face, ''Of course, mommy.''

I chuckled, shaking my head. Cody was a little devil. He always knew how to pull your heartstrings to get away with the stuff he'd done he knew wasn't right.

A noise in the backyard caught my attention. It was approaching the house and I had no idea what it was. Walking up to the kitchen window, I leaned over the counter to get a closer look. It was getting darker, but it wasn't dark enough to block the sight of the woods.

Or the sight of those eyes.

I froze and I fidgeted for my phone, not taking my eyes off of the creature.

He wasn't moving, just calculating my every move. I tapped on speed dial, hoping that Druig would pick up. But it went to voicemail.

I tried to keep my voice steady, ''Hey, honey. Just calling to let you know... I think a Deviant found our home. So, be careful when you get back, okay? Don't worry about me nor the kids, we'll be fine, I'll make sure of it.''

I hung up.

Hopefully he was going to hear it in time.

''Sweethearts,'' I walked over to him, plastering a fake smile on my face to make sure they wouldn't worry, ''why don't you grab some stuff and go over to neighbor Nancy's?''

''Yay.'' Viola cheered, running already to the hallway. The other kids followed soon after. I picked up Jessica on the way over and walked to the neighbor across from us.

Cody knocked on the door.

Nancy opened with a smile, ''Y/N, and the kids. What a nice surprise.''

''Sorry to interrupt your evening, Nance, but I was wondering if I could drop them with you for a bit. I need to do some stuff, but it won't take long.''

Nancy smiled, shrugging it off, ''Of course. I don't mind the company one bit. Come back over when you're done.''

''Thank you.''

I ushered the kids inside before handing Jessica over to Nancy, bidding goodbye to her with a wave as I walked back over.

Once inside the house, I locked the door behind me and got into the backyard.

The creature walked out from the shadows and growled at me. Clearly, he was thinking he was just messing with a simple human. Well, too bad, I'd have to disappoint him. My eyes turned a glowing white as streams of white energy started wrapping around my hands and arms.

''Try me.''

The creature growled and lunged at me. I pulled a foot back and with a smooth movement, I whipped out a string of light from my hand that worked like a whip, swinging the creature away mid-air.

''Don't you-''

I struck him with a ball of my energy.

''-ever-''

Again.

''-threaten-''

And again.

''-my family-''

And again.

''-again.''

With a final blow, he was down to the ground and I used my hands to form this cage of energy around him.

The door to the backyard burst over and I looked back to see Druig with Makkari and Sersi.

''Honey, you didn't tell me we would have guests.'' I smiled innocently, like I wasn't holding a Deviant away from my home with my lifeline.

He chuckled, ''Sorry, next time I'll text you.''

''Good.''

Sersi chuckled and rushed to my aid, taking over.

It gave me a chance to finally rest.

I stumbled over to Druig and gave him a peck on the lips.

''I left a voicemail.''

''I know,'' he brushed some strands away from my hair, ''I heard it. I'm sorry I wasn't here, my beautiful.''

I grabbed his hands, ''You know better than to worry about me, Druig. The kids are over at Nancy's. We can pick them up whenever.''

He smirked at me.

Makkari and Sersi stepped into the conversation, ''We'll take the Deviant and leave you two alone.''

I hugged the both of them before they left through the woods behind our backyard, leaving Druig and me alone. I turned my head to face him a smile on my face.

''Welcome home.''

''Thank you. So, what would you like to do?''

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around his neck, ''I don't know. You tell me.''

He chuckled, lifting me up in a fluid motion, holding me bridal style in his arms, ''I've got some ideas.''

I laughed as he led us both inside.

-

-

-

Words: 1,2K

[yoohoo-undead-unleashed]

Chapter Six: The search for Orca

"Okay, so today's finally going to be the day we regroup with Orca!"

Everyone was gathered at Roodee's house.

To be honest, they had all been worried about the capuchin when he had failed to respond to Lemmee the day before.

They all hoped he was okay.

He opened the door, looking as if nothing had happened at all.

"You're alive!" Chewoo trumpeted, hugging him.

"Where even were you yesterday?!" The lemur could barely hold back the urge to slap him.

"Well, Lemmee, you see, I—"

He hesitated as he tried to come up with a lie the others would believe.

"I guess I just overslept..."

"For the entire day?" YooHoo asked.

He didn't say anything else on the matter.

"Right, Orca," Pammee noted. "We need to know where she is."

"We're pretty much just going in blindly at this point," Lemmee said, shrugging. "Besides, that place where that Monster attack happened didn't have her there."

"So we gotta keep looking! C'mon, guys, let's gooooo!"

The bushbaby ran off as he said that.

"Y-YOOHOO! AT LEAST WARN US BEFORE YOU RUN OFF—"

Everyone cried out warnings to the lemur to come back as he went in pursuit of his friend.

Orca was patrolling the area between the forest and rainforest biomes after that last encounter with the Undead.

She could faintly hear voices from afar, only becoming clearer as she began seeing figures from the corner of her eye.

"YooHoo, I'm serious, you can't just— AGH!"

Lemmee collided into YooHoo, which then made them tumble off the ledge at a rather insanely fast speed, leading Orca to notice them far too late as she turned to face them, right as they made impact with her.

They all screamed as they tumbled into a rather large hole in a suspicious-looking tree, jamming them firmly into it.

While YooHoo's body was almost all the way inside, both Orca and Lemmee got stuck halfway through, the latter in a more unfortunate position.

"Oh, great. We're stuck."

"Yay," YooHoo said, making sure he put enough sarcasm into that word to rub it in to the lemur's displeasure.

"Seriously? It's just the three of us cramped in here!"

"At least you and I are in more comfortable positions, Orca..."

"Yeah, and I'm the one who gets their butt stuck in here," Lemmee griped. "Trade ya!"

"No way!" she snapped. "You should've been more careful!"

"Me?! More careful?!" The lemur was incredulous. "Why, I oughtta—"

"YooHoo! Lemmee! We're coming to help!"

The lemur jolted as the rest of his friends came.

"Oh, thank goodness, I'm saved!" He waved his hands to signal them of his position. "I'm right here!"

"Sweet— Holy cow, Lemmee, how did you— Wait, Orca?!"

"Wait, what?!" she recoiled. "You weren't supposed to find me yet!"

"I guess you could say we got a bit impatient," YooHoo chuckled nervously. "What with a...sight we saw..."

She sighed, knowing that sooner or later, they'd know it was her that did it. "Look, as long as you just wanted to see me again to tell you about something, I won't complain."

"Guys, pull on my arms!" Lemmee said. "You need to get me out of here!"

"And push us in! Either of those options, as long as we all get unstuck," YooHoo said.

"Push you in? Okay!" Chewoo chirped, and began pushing Lemmee's face.

"H-hey— Chewoo— I said 'pull me out', not 'push me in'!"

Orca was becoming extremely uncomfortable in such a tight spot as this went on.

"Chewoo— CHEWOO— I SAID STOP—"

All three popped out of the hole to the inside of the tree.

"Whoa... That's big," YooHoo noted.

Looking outside, Lemmee could see that it was a rather large hole.

Orca noticed something deeper within.

A tablet.

Inspecting it closely, it looked like some intricate carvings of an animal holding something, a Soul Pot, and a Monster next to the animal.

"Guys," she said, "I think this is what we're supposed to be doing to stop the Undeadification."

"What do you mean?" YooHoo asked.

"Look." She gave it to him and pointed at the carving. "In order to get the Monsters dealt with, you need to put Souls in the Soul Pot. In order to get these Souls, you need to fight the Undead."

"How are we supposed to do that, though? I mean, we haven't come across any since we first saw them," Lemmee told her.

"As soon as we get out of here, we'll need to figure out a way to fight them more efficiently," she told him.

The gators fidgeted as they stood near the door to the Boss's office in their castle in the Death Forest.

"So..." Oops said, trying to break the tension. "About us still not having seen a Monster yet."

"Yeah. I thought it would be here by now," Koops told him.

"Do you think it would...try to eat us?"

His brother shuddered at the image that came to his head.

"I sure hope not."

"Oops! Koops! Get in here!" the Boss's voice rang out from behind the door. "We are about to witness the arrival of a lifetime!"

The duo gulped as they opened the door and went in, preparing themselves for what was to come.

[msbarrows]

Dec 21 - had one of those days where I randomly woke up super early, after only a few hours of sleep, and then couldn't get back to sleep for hours. Then when I did finally drift off, I slept hard. So it was stupidly late when I finally got up and showered and stuff.

Got more photos scanned (yay), though not as many as yesterday, before it was time to go make supper for the nephew and I; did beef and macaroni stew, using bow-tie pasta.

Managed to spill my bowl of it across one end of my keyboard, argh. By the time I'd cleaned up from that and got my laptop connected to a bluetooth keyboard I also had on hand (because gaming on tablet), the nephew had managed to have three helpings of supper, so I got very little of it in the end.

The rest of the evening has been a loss as far as getting anything actually done, too frazzled about the keyboard accident to continue with more scanning, or to do any real playing of games (like I logged into NMS long enough to collect stuff from my frigates and send them out again on new missions, but that was it).

[wondersbeyondcompare]

Berenice Birthday Union Card (2022)

That time of the year again! Except that I managed to actually finish on time due to not fun reasons, but yay I’m done!! 🥳 Happy birthday to my ghost daughter! Ily very much!

And the groovy picture’s included at the very end!

Part 1

Berenice: It appears to be my birthday once more!! How exciting~!

Berenice: Although that giant bird of a headmaster made me promise not to pull a stunt like last time in exchange for a proper interview… I can’t help but wonder if he followed through.

Berenice: Whoever the die chose this year must be awfully bold to keep me waiting this long~ It’s as if they soiled their pants at the very thought of seeing me and ran back to their room, losing themself in their silly little television games again!

Berenice: Aaa~aa, I wonder what the headmaster would think if I barged into his office again to send forth a complaint! The current dorm leader of Ignihyde is unsuitable to lead; grant him a watch and fresh pants as a parting present, please and thank you!

???: O-Oi! Dorm leader! Would ya’ hurry up already and get out there already!? She’s getting on my nerves!

???: Bu-But I don’t understand why I have to make an IRL appearance for something like this!! Wouldn’t the tablet be oka-

???: We’ve been over this already! The headmaster said she requested an in person interview! And you know what happens when Miss Berenice doesn’t get what she wants.

???: I- I see. Then there’s only one option to choose then. g2g

*running sfx*

???: Dorm leader Idia?!

???: Dammit! That coward made a break for it!

*whoosh*

*rustle*

Idia: HIIEEEE!!!

Berenice: Found~ You~!

Idia: Be- Berenice-shi!!! Time out, time out!!!

Berenice: Geez~ Even after that whole monologue you still wouldn’t show your face. You’ve heard less savory threats in your computer games and gotten riled up over those. What could possibly be the difference?

Idia: …well most of those insults aren’t coming from a crazy ghost with a chokehold around my neck!

Berenice: Huh? Did you say something?

Idia: Nothing! Never mind! …Um, here.

Berenice: !!! A present??? How unexpected! What could it be~ What could it be~

*rustle* *rustle*

Berenice: A tinier box inside the bigger box! Just like those Matryoshka dolls!

Idia: It’s a console! Remember?! You broke mine beyond repair while trying to find the power button.

Idia: At first I ordered myself a new one to replace the broken one, but… you seemed really interested in it, so I ended up getting one for you too. plus the headmaster said the interviewer’s gift was required, so…

Idia: This one’s an older model, so the graphics won’t be as great. Plus you break everything you touch, so I had to add a super resilient case to it. I was considering the effectiveness of stacking several screen protectors, but since that would affect touch sensitivity, I decided to use only 1. It was a pain in the ass to apply as usual, but altogether everything looks better than expected, fufufu…

Berenice: …Thank you. I’ll treasure it.

Idia: Hmm? Somehow her expression changed…

Berenice: Does that mean you’ll make the time to teach me some games?!!

Idia: Guh-! Ma- Maybe someone else?!! I’m pretty busy as a dorm leader, so-!!! All these events I have to get to!! And dailies and such!!

Part 2

Idia: Let’s just get this interview completed so I can move on to a different task… *clears throat* Berenice-shi, “if you could pick any student from Night Raven College to be your sibling, who would you choose?”

Berenice: Obviously Ortho!

Idia: Ortho-?! But it can’t be from your own dorm!

Berenice: Haha! Well, I’m flattered to hear that you’ve finally accepted me into your dorm!!

Idia: That-!

Berenice: Hahaha!! I’m just pulling your leg. Let’s see… A sibling from a dorm other than Ignihyde… Ah. There was that one boy that I’ve become quite interested in. His name is at the tip of my tongue… What was it again?

Idia: Is it that hard a name to remember?

Berenice: Oh! I got it! Malleus Draconia! That’s who I want as my little brother!

Idia: MALLEUS-SHI?!! THE GUY WHO LOOKS LIKE THE FINAL BOSS OF A FANTASY MMORPG??? And, wait, did you say ‘little brother’?!!!!

Berenice: Yes. Is there a problem with that?

Idia: No- Not really… Though I have to ask, why him?

Berenice: Well! We have the same hair color, so I would blend right into the family tree! And he’s tall, so he would be able to reach the top shelves for items out of my reach!

Idia: Don’t you just float everywhere you go, though…?

Berenice: He’s also got stellar horns!! And he looks eager to learn about things he doesn’t know, so he’ll always have his big sister Berenice to teach him! And the way he looks kind of down everytime people forget to invite him is sooo~ cute~!! Like a lost puppy!

Idia: Cute?!!! For him??!! No, no, no, Ortho is cute. Chibi rigs of your in-game oshis are cute. But Malleus-

Berenice: -is also cute!! Moving on~!

Part 3

Idia: “If you were to join any dorm other than Ignihyde, which dorm would you choose?”

Berenice: Hmmm… Well, now I’m stumped. This is a much more difficult question than the first.

Idia: …Really.

Berenice: Heartslabyul could always be fun, but that little red headed boy with the big stick yells too much whenever I visit, so I wouldn’t want his voice always ringing in my ears.

Berenice: Pomefiore and Octavinelle… Are too uptight for me. Even if I take the time to ruin their classy atmospheres, it’s not like anyone would entertain me like they do in this dorm.

Berenice: And although it would be amusing to see that snake boy pop a vein at my shenanigans, the current Scarabia dorm leader would probably welcome any chaos I bring, so there would be no interesting reactions there.

Berenice: The Savanaclaw dorm leader is normally asleep…And even if I wake him, he doesn’t always lash out at me like he does with the others… Haah…

Berenice: I guess I’ll have to join my hypothetical little brother Malleus in Diasomnia. Though I have to admit… I don’t have fond memories of that place.

Idia: The atmosphere of that dorm’s not too different from ours, so I get how you eventually came to that option. But memories? In the past… could you have possibly- GUH

Berenice: Haha! Well that’s enough reminiscing for one birthday! Now be a dear and grant me the gift of good fortune already~! Here! The cake!

Idia: Bu- But why do you also have a plate in your hand?!

Berenice: Well I can’t be the only victim here, can I? Now let’s go~! 1,2,-!

Idia: Happy birthday, Berenice-shi!

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 24: You Are My Sunshine

Chapter 23

Read on AO3

It was refreshing for Jamie to pull up to the Beauchamp residence without feeling like he was going to vomit.

Even after Claire had agreed to the blessed terms “boyfriend and girlfriend,” the first few “dates” of theirs had still made him nervous. He was convinced so thoroughly that he’d stuff it up, and there were so many times he thought he had. But somehow, Claire kept wanting him to come back. And so did Faith.

As he climbed the steps to their apartment, Faith was in the window, as usual, and Claire chased after her with sunscreen. He chuckled to himself, then the front door opened to a frazzled Claire, holding the open sunscreen bottle.

“Hi,” she said.

“Good morning,” he said.

“We’re a bit behind schedule,” Claire said. “She was very stubborn about breakfast this morning, so the time I allotted for sunscreen-protesting went to breakfast-protesting instead.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie said, shutting the door behind him, then pecking her lips. “We’re no’ on a tight schedule.”

She smiled at him gratefully as Faith ran circles around the room, flapping her hands and squealing with excitement.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Other than Faith? Yes.”

“D’ye want me to try?” he offered. “The sunscreen, I mean.”

Claire blinked dumbly at him for a moment. “Oh, ehm, yeah, why not.”

“If ye dinna think — ”

“No! No, you’re right, she always listens better to you,” Claire said quickly. She handed him the bottle. “I’ll load up the car and get Angus vested.”

Before Jamie could protest, she was out the door with her and Faith’s bag, and Faith’s wee pink backpack that contained her tablet and headphones for the car. Jamie turned back to Faith, still running back and forth, and his heart skipped a beat.

He thought Claire would wait and see if it went well before she took off, but she just trusted that he’d be able to handle it. He felt warmth blooming in his chest.

“Alright, wean, let’s go.” Jamie stopped her in her blazing path by crouching to put a hand on her chest. “We have to finish wi’ yer lotion.” He knelt down in front of her and had to scramble to stop her from bolting again. “Hey, listen now. Calm down, lass.” She hummed loudly and tugged against his grip, giggling. “Listen to me, Faith. No lotion, no beach.” It was syntax he’d often heard Claire use with her. He said it again, and she stopped tugging.

“Ye hear me? No lotion, no beach.”

She stood still in front of him, and Jamie praised her as he brought a bit of lotion to her face. She jerked away at the last minute.

“Faith,” Jamie said, slightly more firm. “If ye dinna let me put this on ye before Mummy gets back inside, I dinna think she’ll want to take ye to the beach.”

Faith made a whining noise, jumping and flapping in distress.

“Aye, I ken ye want to go to the beach. I want ye to go, too,” he said, adjusting the tactic a bit. “If ye canna go, I’ll be very sad. There’s sand to play in, and so much water to swim in, and we’ll have lunch. Aye?” She whined again. “I know, I know. So ye have to let me put yer lotion on. Because I want to play on the beach wi’ my wee lass.”

She didn't whine again, just flapped her hands.

“Alright, here we go. Fer me, fer Jamie. Aye?” He brought the dollop of lotion closer, and she only flinched a bit. “It’s alright. I’ve got ye.” He gently cupped the back of her head with his empty hand, and she allowed him to continue.

“Good girl. Good job.”

Claire returned from the car then, and she made a satisfied humming sound at finding Faith behaving herself. She vested Angus while Jamie carefully finished with Faith’s face.

“Don’t let her touch her face,” Claire said quickly. “She somehow manages to get sunscreen in her eyes every single time because she’s always rubbing them.” Jamie nodded. “I’m going to sit in the back with her on the way there so she doesn’t. She’ll be very irritable all day and won’t have any fun.”

Claire continued to flit around the apartment, snatching things from all around that she apparently hadn’t put in her bag; her sunglasses, a granola bar, a reusable cup filled with homemade iced coffee, two reusable water bottles that clinked with ice. By the time she dumped those items somewhere in Jamie’s car and returned inside, Faith was all lotioned up.

“All done? Yay!” Claire signed her applause, and Jamie did the same. “Good girl.”

“Are ye bringing this or did ye have another?” Jamie said, holding up the bottle.

“No, that’s the only one, just throw it in the bag when we get to the car,” Claire said. She was bunching up a wee cover-up dress to put over Faith’s ruffled princess one-piece. “Here we go,” she said when Faith’s head poked through. “Okay, flip flops are by the door; go on.”

She looked up at Jamie as she led Faith to the door, and he followed, holding Angus’s leash. “Thank you,” she said, sliding her own shoes on as Faith fumbled with hers. “That went a lot faster than it could have.”

Jamie shrugged. “No bother at all.”

He supposed that perhaps eventually his presence would stop feeling like a novelty, and Faith would listen to him just as poorly as she did her mother. His stomach flipped at the thought, at the implication: Eventually, he’d feel like family. But for now, they might as well take advantage of her desire to please him, wherever on earth that desire came from.

Claire did indeed sit in the back seat next to Faith to assure she didn’t incessantly rub her face, and between her and Angus, Jamie supposed it was a successful venture. He conversed with her over his shoulder, and it was altogether a pleasant ride, though he wished he could hold her hand while he drove. Maybe Faith would sleep on the ride home.

When they arrived at the beach, Cupsogue, Faith did not protest for a moment about finishing her movie. She threw the tablet and headphones aside and yanked against her seatbelt. Jamie could not help but smile at her excitement, even as Claire sternly told her that she was not to run off. They managed to get her tethered to Angus before she could, and then they were making their way out of the parking lot, Jamie carrying all the bags on his own and Claire holding firmly to the leash.

They were there early enough that it hadn’t gotten too crowded yet, but they walked a long distance away from the parking lot, just in case. Jamie kept an eye and an ear out for any signs of distress. If Faith showed even the slightest bit of discomfort, he was ready to scoop her in his arms himself and drive them to the stables. He didn’t tell Claire, but he’d bought a small kiddie pool for a backup plan; it was under a blanket in the trunk of his car. If everything worked out, he could return it. Or maybe he’d keep it for another time.

When they finally settled on a spot, Faith didn’t seem the least bit distressed. They stepped off the walkway and onto the sand, and Faith immediately abandoned her shoes and squealed. Jamie bent down and picked them up, even with his arms full, tucking them under his arm. He noticed Claire had to significantly tighten her grip on Angus’s leash to stop Faith from yanking her and the dog away. When they stopped to spread out the big beach blanket Jamie had brought, Claire instructed Angus to calm Faith down a bit so that she could help Jamie set up without fear of losing her, though she still kept the leash looped around her wrist.

“Look, baby, beach towel. Like we practiced.”

With a buzzing hum, Faith skipped onto the blanket and sat down right in the center, Angus plopping his head in her lap.

“Good girl!”

Claire dumped the contents of her own bag onto the blanket, grinning sheepishly at Jamie. She left the buckets, shovels, and sandcastle toys out and stuffed everything else back inside. Jamie grinned. His girlfriend was a hot mess, and he adored everything about it.

Jamie pulled his shirt off and was about to ask Claire to spray his back with sunscreen, but he instead choked back an uncomfortable laugh at the way Claire was gaping at him. He was then seized with dread at the thought of what he would look like when she pulled off her cover-up to reveal her bathing suit underneath. Jamie cleared his throat, and Claire turned red.

“Get my back?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she stammered, shuffling around him and taking the can from him. She liberally sprayed the large expanse of his back, and then she hesitated.

“Would you, ehm...” Claire cleared her throat. “Could you do mine…?”

“Aye, of course.”

Jamie deliberately didn’t look at Claire as she pulled the dress over her head, choosing instead to focus on Faith playing with sand between her fingers. When next he saw Claire, he swallowed thickly. He thanked god that she was wearing a one-piece; he thought he might have fully lost his head if she’d been wearing a bikini. She smiled sheepishly and then turned around, pulling her hair off her neck and holding it on top of her head. Jamie gulped again before spraying the sunscreen, gingerly lifting the neck strap to get under it, and then rubbed the lotion in with a hand that he had to force to not tremble. The back was open, scooping down from the front to her mid-back. He forced himself to not look at the way her bonny arse peeked out at the bottom, or how her legs seemed to go on forever.

“Ye’re…” Jamie cleared his throat again. “Ye’re beautiful, Claire.”

He watched the blush bloom all over her exposed skin, and then she let her hair fall again. Jamie had the urge to run his fingers through it.

“Ehm, thank you,” Claire said, her voice small. She turned around, smiling at him, her face still red. “You’re ehm…you don’t look bad yourself.”

Jamie’s stomach flipped, and he thought he might tip over. He almost laughed; he hadn’t been sick to his stomach in anticipation of this day. What a fool.

Jamie nodded. “Aye. I mean, well, thank you, I mean.”

Claire giggled, the freckles on her nose and cheeks crinkling in the sunlight. “Are you all covered other than that?”

“Huh? Oh, aye. I’m good.”

“Okay, me too.”

She flashed her bright eyes at him, somehow even more honey colored in the sun, and he suddenly got the urge to kiss every one of her freckles. Instead, he busied himself with putting away his sunscreen, and then sat on the blanket beside Faith.

“Ye ever made a sandcastle, lass?”

Jamie then launched into his sandcastle lesson, informing both lasses that it was of the utmost importance that the sand be wet before packing it in, and then before long, he was going to and from the ocean with buckets of water so that Faith could construct her castle beside their blanket. They all helped, and before Claire could snap a picture of the finished product, Faith was squishing the sand in her hands and laying her entire body weight on the structure. Claire groaned that she should have taken off her cover up, and Jamie just laughed.

“Ye like that, eh lass?”

They spent the next several minutes just squishing the damp sand, Faith squealing all the while. The higher the sun rose, the hotter it got, so Claire untethered Faith from Angus, and the four of them walked toward the water together. Jamie fought the urge to laugh when Claire gasped at how cold the water was. She caught his smirk however.

“What? It doesn’t bother you at all?” She raised a brow at him.

“Nah. Doesna bother her either.”

Faith was yanking at both of their hands to get closer, but then as a wave came in, she squealed, running back and letting the water chase her. Jamie and Claire allowed her to keep doing this for a while, flanking her on both sides as she ran back and forth, Angus sitting dutifully despite how badly it looked like he wanted to play. After about the fifteenth time Faith had run back and forth, Jamie looked over her to Claire, nudging his head down toward Faith. Claire nodded.

With a playful growl, Jamie scooped Faith up from under her arms and ran right into an oncoming wave, causing her to shriek with glee. He didn’t get too far, only up to his own knees, and he glided Faith along the surface, letting her legs dip in and splash. After he swung her back and forth a few times, she began pawing at his hands, wanting to be put down. He went closer to the shore so he wouldn’t submerge her too deeply, and then she started tugging on his hand, making their way back to Claire. When they arrived, she put her hands up and moaned, jumping a bit.

She wanted him to run in with her like that again.

“Good luck, Soldier,” Claire said, shielding her eyes with her hand. “She’s going to make you do it until you collapse.”

If bringing this little girl joy was how he met his demise, well…Jamie was quite alright with that.

She was squealing in a way Jamie had simply never heard before. Claire had always said she loved the water, but he had no idea how much. She was positively thrilled by Jamie splashing her around, and she didn't even protest when he decided not to run back to the shore and instead sank into the water. Claire joined them then, so that Faith could swim back and forth between them, only a distance of about four feet. Both of them could still easily stand up at this water depth, so grabbing her if need be would be all too easy. Claire had even taken Angus’s vest off and let him join them, keeping him leashed to her lest some nasty Karen decide to report a disturbance from a non-service dog.

Jamie felt relaxed, at peace. He was just so god damn content to be here with them. He’d never felt such a sense of belonging with anyone but his own blood. He remembered a few nights ago when Faith had allowed him to lift her up so she could reach the sink, and now here he was, carrying her around the water, carrying her because she asked him to. It was almost too much to bear, the overwhelming joy and love in his heart.

At one point, Faith had taken to standing on Jamie’s thighs, holding his hands for balance, and then letting herself plop bodily into the water, where Claire would get her upright above the surface of the water again. She did this over, and over, and over, shrieking with glee every single time, Angus doggy paddling a safe distance away. It went on for hours, this unadulterated glee from all three of them. Four if you counted the dog.

In order to get Faith to stop her plopping, Claire took her in her arms to distract her with a bit of tickling. Then, she wrapped Faith’s legs around her waist and let her float on her back.

“She likes the weightlessness,” Claire said to Jamie, walking closer to him. “I do this when I’m in the pool with her and it’s almost time to get out. It calms her down after all the splashing and jumping.”

Jamie hummed in response, smiling down at Faith. Her eyes were squeezed shut against the sun, and her mouth kept twitching between different funny smiles. Her arms were splayed at her sides, fingers stimming slowly in the water. Her hair looked even longer than it normally did, spread out and straightened.

“Usually I’ll sway her, but we’ve got waves for that today,” Claire said with a smile.

Jamie’s own smile widened, his eyes crinkling. “Come here, Sassenach.”

Claire smiled crookedly at him as she sloshed through more water. Angus had given up on swimming, and Claire had allowed him to stay on the shore beside his vest. As Claire approached Jamie, he opened his arms, and she leaned into him backwards, Faith’s legs still wrapped around her waist. Jamie enveloped her in his arms from behind, holding her to him by the shoulders and stomach, above Faith’s legs. He felt, rather than heard Claire’s sigh; she relaxed into him, every one of her muscles loosening. Jamie kissed her temple and buried his nose in her salty, sandy wet hair. She gripped his forearms, rubbing them occasionally.

“She’s got the freckles, too,” Jamie suddenly found himself saying.

“What?”

“Faith,” he felt himself blush. “Yer…those freckles ye’ve got, on yer nose and a few on yer cheeks. I didna think she had them too. It was just about the only thing she didna get from ye. But there they are.”

Claire hummed lazily in amusement. “Right. Mine are definitely more visible in the sun. Hers are invisible without the sun. It’s like sunshine charges them or something.”

He chuckled, rumbling his chest against her back.

“Sunshine,” he said thoughtfully.

“What about it?”

He kissed her cheek, squeezing her more tightly.

“Please don’t start singing,” she said, and Jamie wrinkled his nose.

“What’re ye talking about?”

Claire paused. “You weren’t…I thought…you know…” She stopped again, clearly waiting for him to catch on, but then she sighed reluctantly. “You are my sunshine…”

Jamie tossed his head back in laughter. “I hadna planned on serenadin’ ye, but now I think I have to. Unless you’d rather go ahead.”

“Oh, God no,” Claire said. “To both options.”

Jamie would have liked to pinch her arse, but he didn’t want her jerking Faith, so he just grumbled in her ear. “Wicked besom.”

She hmphed, leaning into him again.

“Either way,” Jamie said. “I dinna need to sing it for ye to know it.”

From the corner of his eye, looking down at her, he saw that she’d broken into a wide grin.

Not too long after, the beach crowded up rather quickly, and when they tried to eat, there were families setting up their towels on either side of them. Faith grew more anxious by the second, trying to run back into the water for solace. They decided it best if they leave before she got worse, and even then, she was already crying, whether from the crowd, from the fact that she wasn’t being allowed back in the water, the heat, hunger, or all of the above. Angus’s ministrations kept her from slipping into a full meltdown while Jamie and Claire cleaned up as fast as they could, but they knew they were on borrowed time. The world was closing in on Faith and they needed to get her out before she started screaming.

She did start screaming, unfortunately, and Jamie did not hesitate to scoop her into his arms.

“It’s alright…” he soothed. “I’m sorry, lass. I’m so sorry. It’s alright…”

He knew they’d stayed past what would’ve been a safe time for the crowds. He knew, but Faith was so happy. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tear her away from her fun. But they should have left an hour ago.

Even as he held tightly to Faith, he told Claire to sling a bag or two on his shoulder. Faith had her hands clamped over her ears as she screamed bloody murder into Jamie’s neck, and Claire coaxed her hands away to put her headphones on. They departed quickly once everything was ready to go, and Jamie could see the mortification on Claire’s face and the judgement on everyone else’s. He wanted to pummel them all, every single grown adult who threw dirty looks at a little girl, and at Claire, judging her parenting.

He kept walking forward, focusing instead on getting Faith away from the stressor. One foot in front of the other. During the long walk back to the car, Faith had carried on, though she was at least no longer shrieking. She was hitting Jamie, though, her tiny fists striking his neck, back, and face. Claire scolded her out of habit and then sighed in defeat; Faith couldn’t hear her with the noise-cancelling headphones on.

Back at the car, Jamie opened the trunk where there was a large, flat space. He put Faith down inside and handed her the bucket of sand he’d carried from the beach.

“Jamie, it’ll make a mess of your car…”

“Doesna matter,” Jamie said. “I ken it’ll help her calm down. That’s what matters.”

Claire sat behind Faith in the trunk, gently tracing patterns on her back over the towel that Jamie had draped around her tiny frame. He was attempting to engage her in the sand bucket, and Angus was applying deep pressure as well. It might take a few minutes, but she’d be calm eventually, sooner rather than later with all of them helping. Maybe they’d even have their picnic after all, right here in his trunk. 

Jamie noticed Claire kept looking up at something behind him, more and more anger in her eyes with each glance. After perhaps the tenth time, Jamie looked over his shoulder to see an old minivan, turn signal on. They were waiting for his spot.

Jamie rolled his eyes and turned back to Faith, who was sticking her hands in the bucket and sputtering incoherently.

“They’ll leave eventually, Sassenach. They canna see yer evil eye from over here.”

He meant to lighten the mood, but Claire suddenly scooted out of the trunk and stood up. “You’re right. They can’t.”

She stormed over to the van, and Jamie was too busy with Faith to stop her, but he watched, eyes wide.

Claire knocked on the window, and it rolled down. “Hi. Are you waiting for that spot?”

“Well…yeah.”

“Alright, well we’re not leaving any time soon. Very sorry.”

“We just watched you come from the beach and put stuff in the car.”

“I understand that, but we’re not leaving any time soon.”

Jamie had a bad feeling about this.

“Well what’s the hold up?”

Jamie watched as Claire planted her hands on her hips, her back straightening; she was winding up. “The hold up is my child having an autism-panic-meltdown in the trunk. Don’t you hear the occasional screaming? That would be her. And I’m not going anywhere until she is calm. And I’ll not have this ugly, tin can, gas-leaking piece of shit breathing down my neck while I try to take care of my child. So get the hell away and find another spot!”

Claire stood back while the van rolled away, window still down, as the driver and the woman in the passenger seat shouted something about Claire’s language and calling security. Claire stormed back to the open trunk of Jamie’s car, and he gaped at her.

“Un-fucking-believable,” she seethed, sitting back down and taking up her previous task of rubbing Faith’s back without a moment’s hesitation.

Jamie blinked. “That was…”

“Liable to get the police on your doorstep since they took a picture of your license plate?” Claire said, cringing slightly.

“Incredible,” he finished, grinning crookedly at her.

He supposed that much of Claire’s life consisted of similarly telling people off; he himself had been prepared to tell off the whole beach for just looking in their direction. But that didn’t mean he didn’t fall instantly more in love with her for it.

——

“Cooking time” — as Claire had started calling it with Faith — that week produced quesadillas on Wednesday night. Claire could not actually recall ever giving Faith anything like it, and she was pleasantly surprised to see that she loved it. She hadn’t wanted any chicken in hers like Jamie and Claire had, but she was eating the salsa with the organic tortilla chips Claire had bought, so Claire was happy.

The following Saturday, they took Faith to a local playground. She wanted nothing to do with anything but the swing, so Jamie and Claire took turns pushing her, though after a while, she figured out that Jamie was stronger and therefore pushed higher, so she started whining whenever it was Claire’s turn. Claire gave Jamie a mirthful look, crossing her arms and stepping away.

“Go on, Soldier.”

Occasionally, Faith would scrape her feet in the dirt and get off the swing to run laps around the park, but then she’d be right back to the swing. Faith’s energy never seemed to run out, as per usual. Jamie and Claire conversed and teased and laughed all day as they alternated on the swing and watched Faith run around. It was a small fenced in park, so they didn’t feel like they had to chase her around, they just stood together by the gate, hands laced together, to ensure the wild thing didn’t try to pull a fast one before she was ready to go back to the swing. They’d brought another picnic lunch, and toward the end of the day, there was an ice cream truck that they were all more than happy to order from.

They were establishing a routine, Claire realized, stability for Faith to cling to, and perhaps for herself, as well. Over the month, their Saturdays alternated between “date days” and “family days,” which was just a date that Faith joined them on. And then of course Jamie came over to cook during the week and watch a movie. Jamie even continued to bring Claire breakfast and coffee at the hospital on occasion, even lunch some days depending on how forgetful she seemed to him.

It should have been strange to refer to this time as “family time”; Jamie was not family, not really. It should have felt like it was far too soon to be talking the way they were about Faith, far too soon to have her as involved in the relationship as she was. But it didn’t. Dating with kids usually entailed, from Claire’s observation anyway, leaving the kids totally and completely out of it until you were sure that this new guy was the right one.

But it had never been about that with Jamie.

Jamie had always belonged to both of them, perhaps Faith sooner than Claire. Claire had said, simple as she could put it, that he was “dating both of them.” But it felt so much deeper than that. Faith was intrinsically part of the development of their relationship; in fact, it wasn’t their relationship. It was all of theirs: Jamie’s, Claire’s, and Faith’s.

And maybe that should have scared her.

Maybe Claire should have felt terrified that after less than a month, she so thoroughly felt that Jamie belonged in their lives, that he always had and always would. Maybe it should have terrified her that Faith seemed to feel the exact same, in her own way. Sometimes, when she thought about it too much, it did terrify her. But when she allowed herself, allowed them to just be…

She was blissfully happy.

Besides, this had been building for far longer than the near month they’d been officially dating. They knew it, their friends knew it, Faith knew it. The second Jamie had stepped through that back door into the welcome center, this had begun.

And Claire was beyond grateful.

Jamie was over on a Monday cooking pasta carbonara, having set aside a portion of spaghetti to put with plain tomato sauce for Faith. They ate dinner and ice cream sundaes together, watched Cinderella together, and Claire put Faith to bed. When she returned to Jamie on the couch, he seemed very tense. Before Claire could ask if he was alright, he spoke first.

“A week from tomorrow it’ll be a month,” he said, almost blurting it out. “For…us.”

“Yeah,” Claire said, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch. “I know.”

“Since we dinna have plans fer Saturday yet, I thought we could…get dinner. At a nice place, but nowhere too fancy,” he said with a knowing look. “I’ve got a wee plan that I think you’ll like. Ye’ve never been down port, and it’s really great. Great food on the water, lovely scenery to walk around.”

Claire smiled. “Okay, that sounds great.”

Jamie broke into a smile, a nervous smile. He apparently wasn't done.

“And I…” He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with her for a moment before forcing himself to look at her again. “I wanted to ask ye if you, uh…” He swallowed, wet his lips. “If ye wanted to…stay the night. At my place.”

Against her will, Claire’s mouth popped open, her tongue feeling dry. Jamie looked very much like he wanted to immediately take it back, but he bit his tongue, waiting.

“Stay…overnight,” Claire said slowly, carefully. “Overnight…for…?”

“Aye. Fer that.” Jamie was bright red. “Only if ye want to do…that. Only if ye’re ready.”

Claire simultaneously felt her heart flutter with soft affection and felt her core rush with heat. It was her turn to lick her lips, her grip on the couch cushion tightening. There were a million things her mind raced to say, all with varying levels of vulgarity, but instead, she said:

“Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

Claire arched a brow. “Think so?”

“Aye. No — I know so. I know. I am.”

All of the heat and fluttering bubbled in her chest, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh. It was cruel to laugh at him right now, about this. She knew it. But he was just too god damn endearing for his own good.

“Okay,” she said with a chuckle. She reached for him with the hand she’d been resting her head in on the back of the couch. “Me too.”

Jamie exhaled tremulously with a crooked smile. Claire kissed him gently, keeping her hand steady on his face.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered, nuzzling their noses together.

Jamie didn’t speak; he just nodded and kissed her again before folding her into his chest, holding her close. She breathed him in, that scent she’d become so familiar with (his cologne, a crisp, clean smell, but always something earthy lingering underneath), she traced the muscles of his chest under his shirt, listened to his heart, his breathing.

God, she was so ready.

[dontcare77ghj]

Leisure Sickness

Natasha x reader x Tony x Steve

Leisure sickness is defined as a psychological condition in which people, read workaholics, can become ill when given time off.

Leisure sickness's symptoms can include headaches, nausea, insomnia, and vomiting.

These symptoms quickly became synonymous with Steve, Natasha, Y/N, and Tony whenever they went on vacation.

The four of you had decided that you'd had enough with the media and the general public for this season. It seemed as if everyone had an opinion on the team, and you were all sick of it.

So Steve had pitched the idea of the four of you going on vacation for a couple of weeks. 

It had been a lot of back and forth before the four of you came to a decision that you were all happy with. 

The four of you would take three weeks off from the world unless it was about to end and stay at a house on Tony's private island.

"This place is massive. I'm pretty sure I've been lost for the last hour." You said, entering the kitchen where Natasha and Steve were putting groceries away. 

"You've been gone ten minutes, doll." Steve chuckled, stocking the fridge full of drinks.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure it's been an hour." You commented, taking a seat on the counter. "Are we sure time doesn't work differently here?"

"How much coffee have you had?" Natasha asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

"I had two cups on the plane." You told her honestly. 

"You mean the cups that were basically soup bowls?" Steve clarified.

"I drank whatever was served to me." You shrugged. 

"We're going to talk about that later," Natasha said, pointing a finger at you. "But first, can you find Tony? We haven't seen him since we got here."

"Sure. I've explored a lot of this place. I should be able to find him." You shrugged, jumping off the counter.

"Alright, we'll see you in an hour," Steve said, receiving the middle finger from you. 

To be fair, Steve might have been pretty spot on. To explore just the ground floor took you about twenty minutes, and there were still two floors, both with dozens of rooms each, to search. 

"What's behind door number nineteen?" You mumbled, pulling open your nineteenth door, you'd been counting, to reveal another bathroom. 

Except this one held your Tony. A Tony who wasn't looking so good.

"Tones?" You asked quietly, moving to kneel beside the empty bathtub Tony was occupying. "What's wrong, hon?" 

"Just a bit of a headache," Tony mumbled. 

"And you're in the bathtub because?"

"It's nice and cool," Tony told you, keeping his eyes closed.

"Okay, how about you stay here, and I'll get you something for your head?" You suggested, gently brushing hair off his forehead.

"Thank you," Tony mumbled, leaning his head back once more.

"Couldn't you find him?" Steve asked when you reentered the kitchen.

"No, I found him." You told him, beginning to look through the cupboards. "Hauled up in a bathtub with a raging headache. Did we pack any Tylenol?"

"Here," Natasha said, throwing it to you. "I thought he looked a little pale on the plane." She commented.

"He was fine before we got on the plane, though," Steve mentioned. "You think it's an extreme form of jetlag?"

"Could be. It could also be the fact that Tony's not looked after himself at all the past week." You said. "He's been working himself to the bone. His body probably doesn't understand what's going on."

"So we should expect him to feel worse." Natasha deduced. "I'll make something to settle his stomach." She nodded to herself.

"And I'll deliver this." You said, shaking the pills. 

"I'll come with you. I imagine the bathtub's not that comfortable, and Tony might not want to walk to the bedroom." Steve said, moving to follow you. 

"Has death finally come for me?" Tony asked when the two of you made your way back to him.

"Not yet, Tones." You told him, kneeling in the same place as before.

"And not for a long time," Steve added, bending beside you.

"Ugh, I really thought it was him that time." Tony sighed before cracking his eyes open. "Did you bring the good stuff?"

"I did." You nodded, dosing out two of the tablets and handing them to him. "Give me a second, and I'll get you some water." You said, rising to stand, but Tony took the two dry. "That's disgusting."

"Water's for bitches." Tony grunted before closing his eyes again. 

"Come on, Tony, let's get you to bed," Steve said to him. 

"Too much work." Tony denied before Steve picked him up. "Woah! Give a man a little warning." Tony grumbled as Steve chuckled quietly. 

"Asking's for bitches." You teased, walking in front of the two and opening doors.

"Get some rest, Tony," Steve said, putting onto the bed and pulling the covers over him.

"I'll shut my eyes for a few minutes, and I'll be fine," Tony mumbled, rolling over onto his side.

It didn't even take Tony another minute before he was fast asleep.

The next time the four of you decided to go on vacation, you'd decided to go a bit more touristy. 

The four of you were in London for two weeks and would be spending your days visiting every popular tourist attraction. It was your second day in London, the first dedicated to sleeping off the jetlag, and you would soon be leaving the house.

At least you would be if you could settle your stomach.

Your stomach had been churning all night, and no matter what, you couldn't stop it. You'd managed to crawl into the bathroom and not wake anyone, but now you were stuck on the floor.

"Sweetheart? Y/N?" You could hear your name being called. "Y/N, where are you?" 

The bathroom door opened, but you couldn't lift your head from its position.

"Found her," Natasha called before walking over to you. "You look like shit, med," Natasha said, placing a hand on your back.

"Nice, real nice." You groaned, lifting your head slightly. "Just give me a minute to get up and get dressed, and we can get going." 

"The only place you're going is back to bed," Natasha told you as Steve and Tony entered the bathroom.

"Doll, are you okay?" Steve questioned you.

"I'm fine. I just need help getting up. And maybe getting dressed." You told him.

"Y/N, you are sick," Natasha said firmly.

"Nu-uh, I haven't thrown up yet." You denied.

"You don't look too far off from it, babe," Tony informed you. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. It was still dark when I came in." You grunted before dry heaving, but nothing would come up.

"Okay, Steve, would you please get some ginger ale?" Natasha asked, pulling your hair off your face. "Y/N, when was the last time you ate?"

"Not sure."

"Okay, add some saltines to that order too, Steve," Natasha told him.

"Do you honestly not remember the last time you ate?" Tony asked, coming to sit next to Natasha.

"I was working on that paperwork for Nick until the minute we left." You mumbled. "Forgot to eat."

"And that's most likely why you're feeling like crap now." Natasha hummed. "Do you think you'll be okay if we get you back to bed?"

"Just leave me here to perish." You groaned.

"No can do, you're stuck with us," Tony said as he helped Natasha pull you to your feet.

"Sorry I ruined vacation." You whimpered as you were laid in bed.

"You didn't ruin anything, med," Natasha promised, brushing hair from your forehead. "Not at all."

"We still have time before we have to go home." Tony soothed your guilty conscience. "There's plenty of time to do all the touristy bullshit your little heart desires."

"Yay." You moaned, curling into a ball.

It was a long time before the four of you were able to go on another vacation. 

Missions had begun to become back to back and would last weeks, Tony was forced to travel for SI, and Fury seemed to have an unhealthy attachment to long meetings.

It was after Natasha had been on a mission for two months, Tony had been in Japan for one month, and you and Steve had endured countless hours in the hands of Fury that Steve declared you all needed a vacation. 

Steve had literally googled relaxing vacations before deciding upon Brittany, France. 

Though Steve had argued with Fury, for what felt like days, Steve was only able to barter a week off for the four of you.

"Tony, why do you have more bags than me?" You asked as Steve attempted to play Tetris with your luggage.

"I like to have options, dear," Tony said, pulling his sunglasses on. "Never know when one of those parasites are going to spot me."

"Don't call reporters parasites." Steve chided.

"Are we ready to go yet?" Natasha asked, pulling on a jacket despite it being a warm day. "The plane is going to leave soon."

"Just one more bag, and we can get going," Steve told her, picking up a small suitcase.

"Can I once again point out how ridiculous that is? I own the plane. It should wait for me." Tony scoffed, climbing into the car with Natasha right behind him. 

The four of you faced no more problems until halfway through the flight. Natasha had jumped from her seat, startling the three of you from your half-asleep states, and bolted into the plane's bathroom. 

It was seconds before the sounds of retching filled the plane. 

"Tash?" Steve asked as the three of you stood up.

"I'm good." Natasha choked out. "Get away from the door, Steven."

"How'd she know it was only me?" Steve grumbled, walking back over to you and Tony.

"Spy, Steven!"

Natasha stayed in the bathroom for another seven minutes exactly. When she exited, her skin was flushed, she was covered in a thick layer of sweat, and she was shivering violently. 

"FRI give me Nat's temperature," Tony demanded as you rushed to pull Natasha to a chair.

"101.3, boss," FRIDAY informed you all.

"Shit, Nat," Steve swore. "How long have you been running a fever?"

"Not running a fever." Natasha denied, lounging back in the chair and pulling her jacket closer.

"101.3 is a fever, Tash." You said, pulling her jacket off. "We might have to get you to a hospital." 

"How long until we land, FRI?" 

"Three hours, boss." 

"We're going to have to bring her temperature down ourselves," Steve said, grabbing a towel and dumping his iced water on it.

By the time the plane landed, the three of you had successfully managed to bring Natasha's temperature down. 

The four of you emerged from the plane, Natasha cradled in Steve's arms.

"That was probably the most stressful start to a vacation," Tony commented as you all entered a waiting car. "Let's get you to a hospital, hey, Nat?"

The four of you stayed away from vacations for a long time after that incident. Not because you were all slightly traumatized but because life seemed to pick up its pace once more.

It had been a year and a half since Natasha had a raging fever, and now the four of you were on yet another getaway. 

Except for this time, it was for new reasons.

The four of you had had a commitment ceremony just two days ago, the Asgardian equivalent of a polyamorous wedding. 

It had been a long time coming and a lot of planning, but it was worth it. And it had meant everything to you all.

Now the four of you were on your honeymoon in Tony's rebuilt Malibu home. 

"Do you think we'd get in trouble if we moved here?" Natasha asked, pulling her sunglasses down.

"From who? We're all adults. Who would we get in trouble with?" Tony asked her.

"Fury. The government. The news. The world." You listed off. 

"At the end of the day, how much do they really matter?" Tony shrugged, pulling you onto his lap. 

"You would avoid Nick?" Natasha asked, quirking a brow. 

"The pirate doesn't scare me." Tony shook his head as you and Natasha grinned. "Don't tell him I said that." 

Before either of you could respond, the sound of footsteps coming closer caused you all to look up.

Steve was staggering over to the poolside, looking very much worse for wear.

"Jesus, Stevie, how many laps did you do?" Natasha asked as Steve stole her water and gulped it down.

"One." Steve gasped. "I felt like I was going to pass out, so I quit."

"Jesus Christ, sit down, Steve." You ordered, standing and moving over to the blonde. "You are really pale." You tsked, holding his head in your hands. 

"That's the Irish in him." Tony joked, now standing behind you with Natasha at his side. 

"When was the last time you slept?" You asked, running your finger over the prominent dark circles.

"The wedding night." Steve sighed. "I haven't been able to sleep since."

"You're exhausted, Steve." Natasha pointed out. "You can't run on willpower alone."

"I know that, but I physically can't make myself sleep," Steve told her. "I don't know what it is, but I can't."

"Maybe it's because you're trying to force yourself to sleep instead of allowing yourself to." Tony reasoned. 

"Why did you get all philosophical?" Steve asked him. 

"Always have been. Let's get you to bed, Cap." Tony said, helping Steve to his feet. With a bit of maneuvering, the three of you were able to move the bulky super soldier to your large bed and put him under the covers.

"Stay, please," Steve mumbled, already half asleep. 

"Always, Stevie." You said as the three of you crawled in beside your Steve.

Vacations could always be stressful, but it seemed for the four of you it was always amplified. Especially when someone always managed to get sick.

Remember all Taglists are open as are requests. 

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[ryqoshay]

Promptober-2021: Putting on Hairs: Amber Waves of Mane

Primary Pairing: AiRina Words: 676 Rating: G AU: Theater, Monster, Cryptid Prompt: Amber Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs Time Frame: ???

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Author’s Note: This was actually the prompt for Oct 4th, and I posted it in the Discord server shortly after said prompt was posted, but then ran out of energy to post it here and over on AO3. Yay 14 hour shifts...

Summary: Rina is working with the theater lighting while Ai keeps her company.

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“A little more to the left, Emma-chan.” Kanata’s voice drifted up to the catwalk above. “Stage left.” She clarified.

Ai glanced away from the script she was reading to watch the redhead on stage effortlessly move a prop pylon thrice her size and likely even more times her weight. Ai never ceased to be amazed at the raw strength the giant retained while in human form.

“Now, this is for an outdoor scene.” Kanata continued, intentionally directing her voice upward this time. “Let’s see some sunlight, Rina-chan.”

“Roger.” The pink-haired girl next to Ai replied, tapping away at her tablet.

Ktchak! Ktchak!

Two sets of lights flooded the stage with a warm amber glow.

“A little more amber.” Kanata directed.

Ai watched with vested interest as her girlfriend made the requested adjustments. Not only did she love watching Rina work, but she also liked learning enough that she could help if needed.

“A little more…”

“Perhaps put on a hair more?” Ai couldn’t help suggesting.

Emma giggled at the reference to the name of the production and even Kanata cracked a smile. Rina, of course, remained as stoic as ever. However, she had often told Ai how much she enjoyed the puns, even if she couldn’t always express as such.

Rina turned the digital dial again and…

Tzzt! Pffsss…

Ai drew a sharp breath. Another power outage?

“It is just one bulb, Ai-san.” Rina stated, seeming to read her mind.

Tzzt! Pffsss…

“Or two…” She corrected.

“Everyone alright down there?” Ai leaned over the railing to see if the falling shards had hit anyone.

“We’re fine.” Kanata assured.

“I’ll get a broom.” Emma said, far too cheery at the prospect of cleaning.

“Hmm…” Rina tapped at something on her screen. “It seems there was a spike in our new power supply. I will need to make some adjustments.”

“How long do you think it will take to fix?” Kanata asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Enough time for a nap…” the director grabbed her pillow from the seat beside her. Then, with a puff of purple smoke, she changed into her cartoonishly fluffy sheep form and curled up, asleep in seconds.

“Anything I can help with, Rinari?” Ai asked.

“Hmm…” Rina’s digital board stared blankly for a moment. “I have spares, however…”

“However…?”

“Kotori-san’s work has inspired me to try some new techniques.” Rina said, likely referencing the designer’s ability to weave special properties into her creations by using her own feathers. “Ai-san, may I borrow a few strands of your hair?”

“Of course, anything you want, Rinari. But… why my hair?”

“It is already close to the amber shade I need.”

“Close?” the doppelganger chuckled. “You know I can change it to any color you want.”

Rina held up her tablet to display an image of the broken bulbs.

Ai nodded before closing her eyes to form a mental image. Amber. Amber…

“Perfect.” Rina stated.

“How much do you need?” Ai asked, opening her eyes. “I can make it longer too.”

Rina shook her head. “It’s perfect.” She repeated, plucking a pair of strands.

Suddenly, Rina’s drone appeared beside the platform, delivering a small box before moving off to whatever task it was assigned next. Rina plugged the device into her digital board before popping it open and placing Ai’s hair inside. Finally, she began to type on her tablet.

The board’s display dimmed as some of the magic from the ofuda powering it was diverted into the device. Rina’s skin paled and her movements stiffened as her jiangshi body was partially deprived of that which kept her life force contained. Ai always worried when Rina performed experiments like this, but she trusted her girlfriend’s skills.

Eventually, the box began to glow the same color Kanata had approved earlier. Rina snapped open the box to reveal a pair of bulbs. Immediately, her skin regained its own color as the device was disconnected.

“Want to install this one?”

“With pleasure.” Ai accepted the bulb. There was no holding back her smile at the prospect of helping her beloved Rina.

----------

Author’s Note Continued: I realized as I was writing this scene that this is technically the first reveal of all four of these girls’ moster types and roles within the theater. As such, I tried to at least make mention of them while keeping within the character limit of the event. But, for the sake of clarity:

Rina - Jiangshi - Lights and Effects Department Ai - Doppelganger - Swing (backup for multiple minor/chorus roles) Emma - Giant - Set Design Kanata - Somnophore (more aptly, Somnophage, or Sleep Paralysis Demon) - Director

I love the idea of the talisman typically depicted on a jiangshi’s forehead being Rina’s boards, both paper and digital, thus her monster type was an easy choice.

Ai, I’ve forgotten more than half of the ideas I had for monster types, but I did want to give her some sort of role within the theater that would allow her to use her “club saving” abilities as a jack of all trades. Yuu ended up with the back stage jack duties, so Ai got those for on the stage, thus she became a Swing. And a doppelganger who could shift form and outfits on her own seemed fitting for such a role.

I don’t remember who gave me the idea to make Emma a giant, or the reasoning behind the choice, but it stuck with me. From there, the idea of having her use her strength to move set pieces around wasn’t much of a leap.

Kanata, I think I explained my reasoning for her monster type back when I mentioned her in the first YohaRiko chapter of PoH. As for her being a director, I love the idea of using her canon trait of falling asleep anywhere, or pretend to sleep but actually be paying close attention, as she sets things in motion and trusts the actors to do their thing for the most part, only intervening when she deems necessary.

That all said, this chapter will definitely end up included officially in PoH, but only after I reveal some other stuff, like the power source, what, or who it is. And expand some stuff here, like the bit I trimmed where Ai is concerned about the new lights exploding as well, but Rina believes they will work better, because reasons.

And finally, as for amber lights, that actually is a theater thing. While I didn’t quickly find evidence of theaters using real amber for their lighting, there is apparently a “bastard amber gel” that is used to help make the light seem more natural.

I don’t know how an actual set and lighting test session would go in a real theater, so I just made things as simple as possible here. If any theater geeks out there know better, I’d be happy to listen, but will likely keep things as they are and handwave it as this theater being different. Very different.

[kaleidescope-writes]

Faithfully Yours--Chapter 2: Mornings & Gossip

In partnership with @accio-boys

Billionaire!Tom Hiddleston x Doctor!Reader

Slow Burn! (Yay)

Warnings: Swearing, causing a scene, fluff, and a cliffhanger😈

Masterlist

“Absolutely not!” you blurted. The guests, who were paying full attention to your mother, turned to look at you. Many of them had a look of surprise from your mother’s announcement, your sudden exclamation added on to their shock and mild confusion. Your mother, on the other hand, quickly changed her expression from shock to mild anger. “Darling,” she began through gritted teeth, “Let’s have a chat. In private.” She turned to the guests, tone going back to what it was before, “As for our guests, you are free to mingle.” She walked over to you, grabbing your arm harshly and leading you to a secluded corner of the room. 

“What the hell was that, YN?” your mother hissed, not letting your arm go. “Mom,” you began, “I’m not going to marry anyone. Especially not him!” She let go of your arm, pushing you back a little in the process, “You have to. This is for the good of the family. Whatever objection you have, suck it up!” You sighed in frustration, “Suck it up? Mom, I’m a top doctor at a hospital! I have zero time to waste on assholes that are charming with everyone else but almost run me over when I get off work!” She took a step closer to you, “This is for the family! You’ll still be a doctor after the wedding! You’re marrying him. That’s final!”  

“No!” you shouted, earning the attention of two particular people you desperately wanted to avoid. “Is there a problem, Y/N?” Mr. Hiddleston asked, approaching you and your mother. She glared at you, silently urging you to answer wisely--deny that there was a problem. You gave her a challenging look, eyes never leaving hers, “Actually, yes there is.” You felt both men get closer to you, yet you didn’t break the visual standoff with your mother. “And what might the problem be?” Tom asked, making your stomach turn. “The problem is that I’m not going to marry you, Tom!” you snapped harshly, “Look, it’s been a long day. I had enough to worry about between my job and the first wedding announcement, I don’t need this.” You motioned to your general area, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m a busy doctor and a lot of patients rely on me to keep doing my job instead of marrying,” you looked Tom up and down, “assholes in black jaguars.”

Before anyone could say anything, you walked over to the counter and picked up your purse, continuing your strut out the door. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to anyone, too enraged to face anyone else in the room. All you wanted was to go back to your office, bury your face in your frustration pillow, and scream. You had no intention to have any social interactions with anyone for the rest of the night. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up on the couch in your office was never ideal, but sometimes it was better than being home. Today was sometimes. You sat up, stretching as you slowly opened your eyes to adjust to the light in the room. Letting your arms drop, you looked at the watch on your right wrist. Six A.M. Lovely. You stood up, yawning as you made your way to your personal bathroom. Opening up the mini drawer you kept extra clothes in, you settled on something to wear and placed it on the sink. Looking up to see your reflection in the mirror, you took note of your disheveled hair and decided to braid it today. You let little things occupy your mind, welcoming the temporary distractions before starting the day. You needed a clear mind to keep an excellent job performance.

You walked into the cafeteria, feeling fresh and ready to start the day. Picking up a small breakfast selection and drink, you walked over to a table occupied by some doctors you were close with. “Hide your shit, boss is here!” Isabel gasped playfully. You laughed, “Breaking your commitment, Dr. Teixido?” Lucille scoffed, “Isabel, the poster child? No way.” You sat down, already beginning to dig in to your meal.You silently listened to the conversation around you quietly as you ate, reacting every once in a while. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting with them, but you unknowingly finished your food. Just as you were about to excuse yourself from the table, you saw someone else approach the table. 

“Y/N! You’re not going to believe this!” Luke said, out of breath from running around looking for his friend. Before you could question what he was talking about, he showed you the article on his phone. Your stomach dropped and you took the phone from him. “What’s going on?” Isabel asked, concerned about your sudden change. “Twitter has been going crazy over the possibility of a romance between a beloved billionaire and the head of New York’s best hospital,” you read, “Billionaire Bachelor Tom William Hiddleston has been shipped with Dr. Y/N L/N from Rose Valley Hospital and Medical Center by thousands of twitter followers, all claiming they’re the “it couple” of the century.” You felt your internal organs begin to turn in discomfort. What the hell?! The other doctors looked at you, all confused as to why you were reacting so negatively. 

“Who the fuck is this guy?” you questioned, frustration returning in full swing. “He’s only the most eligible bachelor by far,” Lucille answered, “His parents are millionaire CEO's of a multi-million dollar company. He works in that company and has a fortune of his own. He’s also incredibly hot.” You gave her a look of absolute disgust, unable to understand her attraction. “He’s also an absolute douche-bag. A rich, cocky, unpleasant douche-bag,” you rebuked. Isabel gave you a look, “Why are you so against him?” 

“I’d rather not give him more attention than he deserves,” you replied bitterly, handing Luke his phone. “He almost hit Y/N with his car,” he said simply. Teigan turned to Luke, finally deciding to join into the conversation, “I’m sorry, he what? When did this happen?” You put your head in your hands, “Yesterday! Right before my mother told me she made arrangements so that I have to marry the guy.” The group fell silent. An uncomfortable tension filled the air around you. Looking up, you gave them all an expectant look, urging them to say something. They were all silent. Luke shook his head, “Now you won’t say something about how dreamy he is?” Isabel opened her mouth to speak, words falling short as she looked between you and Luke. 

You groaned, letting your head fall momentarily before getting up from your seat. “I have work to do. I have to catch up on all the work I put off last night thanks to the damn announcement,” you said as you grabbed your things and walked away from the group. You didn’t think you’d have to tell them so soon, but the article had to exist. Much to your displeasure. Walking out into the hallway, you slowed your pace as your work phone rang. You answered the call, coming to a complete stop near the wall. The voice on the other end of the line made your stomach drop for the second time that morning. 

“How the hell did you get this number?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Six-thirty A.M. That’s what the clock on the stove read. Meaning that any moment now, Vivienne would come running down the stairs and get her stuff ready for school. Tom went back to preparing her breakfast knowing that he would hear her coming down. Sure enough, he heard the pattering of the eight-year-old coming down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Good morning, uncle Tom!” she greeted in her usual cheery voice. Tom smiled, turning around to face her, “What, no good morning hug? Have you grown out of hugging your uncle already, Vivie?” Vivie smiled at him, running over to him to have him a quick hug. Tom leaned down to hug her back, smile widening as he did. 

“Anything exciting happening in class today?” He asked, pulling away from her and going back to the food. “We’re starting a new book today. The teacher hasn’t told us about it because it’s a surprise,” she smiled as she sat down on a chair, placing her backpack on the counter. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Tom laughed, “You’re just like me, you know. Now sit patiently for a bit while I finish with breakfast.” Vivie nodded, pulling her tablet out of her bag and opening one of the educational game apps. Tom continued with the two omelets as the room filled with the sounds of Vivie’s game. This was his every morning, making sure Vivie was ready for school before the bus picked her up and getting ready for work himself. This was what his life was composed of, and he was happy. He didn’t feel the need to marry a stubborn, know-it-all doctor. Even if his father thought Vivie needed a mother, he could do much better than Y/N L/N. And if they did get married, she would never have time for Vivie like he does. She said it herself, she’s a busy person. She has patients to take care of.Y/N L/N has no time for family whatsoever. Besides, Tom didn’t want Vivie to grow up as bitchy and grouchy as her. 

Deciding the omelets were ready, he grabbed the spatula to his left and took them out of the pan one at a time and placed them onto separate plates. He didn’t notice the sounds from Vivie’s game had gone silent until now and he grew suspicious. Both plates in hand, he turned to the counter where Vivie sat and instantly noticed her reading something. “What’s that you’re reading?” he asked as he put both plates on the counter. Vivie looked up at him confused, “Who’s Y/N?” Tom’s smile faded, holding his hand out to her. Vivie gave him the tablet, still waiting on his answer. 

Tom began reading through the article on the screen, a feeling of dread washing over him. “Shit,” he whispered, looking at the blurry picture of them together. “Is this bad?” Vivie asked, still trying to get him to respond. Tom snapped out of his shock, looking at her before he spoke, “Yes--well, not really. It just means I have to make a call. Keep an eye on my food, please. And don’t even think about switching it with yours while I’m gone.” 

Taking out his phone as he walked over to the window in the kitchen, he dialed the number of his assistant. “James, I need you to find someone’s phone number for me,” Tom ordered as soon as he picked up, “Her name is Dr. Y/N L/N. She works at Rose Valley, I believe.” There was shuffling on the other end before James asked, “Is this about the article?” Tom sighed, “Yes, now please find it for me. It’s urgent.” 

There was a brief silence before James began to read the numbers out to Tom, which he quickly wrote down on the kitchen chalkboard. He thanked James before hanging up and beginning to dial her number. As soon as she picked up, he rushed out, “We need to talk.” 

“How the hell did you get this number?” she asked, sounding surprised and angry all at once. “You’re a famous doctor, I’m surprised you don’t know how easy it is to find it,” Tom scoffed, “Look, that’s not important now. We need to talk in person. There’s an article going around--” “Yes, I know about the article,” Y/N interrupted, “Why does it need to be in person?” Tom sighed, “This is urgent.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You left the hospital early for the second time this week. It wasn’t your idea, but an article had to appear the day after you were told you’d be forced to marry a millionaire. And now, said millionaire wanted to talk, claiming it was too urgent to talk about over the phone. So you found yourself on an elevator of the Empire State Building, heading up to the balcony at the top. The sun had set earlier, making the city lights shine outside. 

The elevator came to a stop, doors opening and allowing you to continue your journey to meet with him. As soon as you walked out into the balcony, you saw him looking down at the city with his hands in his pockets, back turned to you. You stopped in your tracks, deciding to maintain some distance between the two of you. He sensed your presence and fixed his posture, keeping his back to you. You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for whatever his purpose was. 

“So what do you want to talk about?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Done!! It took a while, but it is posted!! I hope you enjoyed today’s Chapter. What did you think? Let me know in the comments as feedback is both appreciated and encouraged. Ok, I promised something else today, and rest assured it will happen. I love you, Stay Safe, Stay Proud, Be careful, and I’ll see you in a bit!! 

Taglist is OPEN

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[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Quarantine P3

Yay! I wrote more! Please comment

-

Clint lay in the medical level bed. Natasha and Steve stood outside the room, nervously anticipating the results, holding out their tablets as Bruce typed away at his own screen from within the tablet.

From your floor, you and Loki waited with baited breath. Thor on his floor, and Bucky on his own, everyone waited.

'Well, good news everyone.' Bruce announced, his voice coming through everyone's communication devices. 'Looks like it's nothing life threatening, just a rare strain of the flu, probably caused by contaminants from Tony's labs in the vents.' Cries of relief rang out and Bruce smiled, wiping at his glasses.

Natasha rushed into the medical room, grabbing Clint by the collar and shaking him, 'Don't you do that to me! You had me so worried!' She angrily growled, before hugging him tightly.

Clint coughed weakly, turning his head from her and winced, before hugging her back. 'Sorry 'Tash.'

Steve clasped Clint on the shoulder, 'We're just glad it's nothing too serious and you'll be back on your feet in a few days.'

You, Loki, Bucky, and Thor, appeared on the screen from your own floors, not yet making the many flights to the medical floor. 'We're glad it's nothing serious.' You said with a smile.

'Even though it's not as serious as we feared, we should still keep distance from each other, there's a lot of us in one building and I don't think it's wise to be all together.' Steve said, glancing over at the wall screen, 'Best you don't come visit.'

'Are you sure?' Bucky asked.

'We probably shouldn't even be hugging him.' Steve gave a reproving glance to Natasha.

Natasha raised her eyebrow in a challenging response and Steve didn't say anything more to her. Instead her turned back to Bucky, 'Clint is your isolation partner but I won't leave the care of him to just one person. We can all pitch in on this.'

Natasha muttered, 'You think Loki's going to risk her safety to help Clint?' She looked at you before looking back to Steve.

Loki's eyes narrowed on Natasha but he remained silent. His hand absently moved towards your upper arm, nearly touching it protectively but not quite brushing along it.

'I won't have my isolation partner risk infection because Clint can't control himself from crawling in the vents.' Loki said stiffly.

'Hey, I can control myself.' Clint replied indignantly with a cough.

You smiled placatingly, looking between the two of them.

'I think it's best to keep those with less certain immune systems away from each other.' Steve nodded, agreeing with Loki.

Loki raised his eyebrows before slowly smiling.

'It's agreed. Let's get Clint healthy and then, we'll go back into isolation just as we were before.' Steve clapped his hands together. 'Anyone else have anything to add?'

Thor grumbled, 'When does this end? I am beleaguered and bored, all I do is sit around, even your movies are of no entertainment.'

'The exercise room is open, Thor, you can use that.' Bucky offered, 'We could spar.'

Thor grunted.

'You could continue your studies.' Loki tried.

Thor groaned, exiting from the call.

Loki glanced down at you, then shrugged and exited from the call.

'You should probably check in on him soon.' You said softly.

'Must I? Must I always keep after him?' Loki sighed, setting down the tablet on the counter.

'You're a better brother than they give you credit for.' You said, resting your hand on his forearm.

Loki smiled at you softly, looking down at your hand.

Pulling your hand away, you turned your head and coughed into the crook of your arm. It was a small cough, but a cough nonetheless.

Loki's brow creased in worry. 'Are you alright?'

You frowned, biting at your lower lip, 'Just a tickle in my throat I think. Or hope.'

Loki pressed his hand to your forehead gently, it was cool, very soothing and you felt so warm under his touch. 'You feel warm, but I cannot tell.'

Sighing, you leaned against his hand. 'I don't know.'

'I'm normally cold.' He admitted.

'I thought so. You feel really nice.'

Loki smiled, a touch of pink on his cheeks.

Abruptly the tablet started ringing, and Loki pulled away from you with a snarl. 'What?'

'Loooooki.' Thor's whine could be heard through an echo. He seemed to be in the bathroom.

'What?' Loki repeated irritably.

'I need your help.'

'Where are you, why aren't you in view of the camera?' Loki held up the tablet, twisting and turning it to see the image better that he might view Thor.

There was silence for a bit and Loki finally could make out the interior of Thor's bathroom but still not see Thor. 'I messed up.'

'What did you do?' Loki grumbled, though his irritation at being interrupted was slowly giving way to curiosity.

'I found one of Stark's hair trimmers and I was somewhat fond of the way it had been in the past when it was out of my way, and I thought perhaps I might trim it a bit on the tips...'

'Go on.'

'Now that there are no traditions to uphold, and father to please, I figured I could let my hair change for a bit, or just I don't know.'

'What did you do, Thor?'

'I didn't know how the thing worked!'

'Thor.' Loki said gently, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You moved closer to Loki so you could try and peer into the tablet and into the darkened bathroom with Loki who was still scanning the place curiously.

Slowly the tablet lowered and light was visible: a buzzcut down the center of Thor's hair, otherwise long and golden mane, one strip of flat nearly bald head was visible.

You fought to keep a straight face, managing a soft, 'Oh.'

Loki blinked beside you, a small snort escaping him.

Thor moaned long and low. 'Looooki.'

'You probably should've made me promise not to laugh, brother.' Loki muttered, fighting back a snicker.

'Is it truly that terrible?' Thor groaned, brushing his hand through his hair.

'Oh all that and more.' Loki nodded emphatically.

'Loki, be nice.' You tried softly, fighting back giggles.

Loki raised his eyebrow as he glanced at you. 'I am being nice, I haven't commented on it. I'm just agreeing with him.'

'Loki, please brother, you have to make it better.' Thor pleaded.

Loki sighed, 'Do I really?'

Thor nodded emphatically, his hair flopping around.

Loki glanced down at you and you said, 'It would prove my point.'

'Which is?' Loki asked.

'That you are the better brother, always there to help him, no matter what.'

Thor was too busy looking in the mirror and trying to fix his mangled haircut to hear you, moaning softly all the while.

Loki sighed, 'Oh alright. Fine. Thor. Thor!'

Thor looked back at the tablet. 'Yes?'

'I'll do what I can but it won't be amazing. My skills are limited, but it will be better than it is.'

Thor's face lit up and a smile spread across his features, 'Oh thank you! Thank you brother, truly you are wonderful! I'll be down to your floor right away!'

'No. I'm coming to you. I won't risk you bringing contamination here.'

'I can't watch the haircut?' You asked.

'I'll take a picture.' Loki said, 'I don't trust him not to have some illness on him, besides, you need to rest, whatever this cough is, I don't like it. I want it gone.'

You smiled and shook your head ruefully, 'I'm sure it's nothing, Loki.'

-

Loki returned a few hours later, looking pleased with himself. You had been dozing on the couch, a large quilt wrapped around you. You started upon him reentering the apartment living room but quickly regained your senses and smiled upon seeing him.

Loki held up the before picture, promising Thor that he would delete it, but saving it to a special folder. Personal use only, he said. And then the after picture. Thor's hair was longer on the edges and fairly short in the middle, it wasn't a professional cut but it was certainly decent and would hide Thor's horrible attempts at a self haircut. It looked almost like it had done when he first arrived on Earth after the whole Thanos incident so it wasn't too terrible all things considered. Thor had said Loki did better than a crazy old guy so Loki took the compliment.

'You've been cooped up inside for a while.' Loki said softly. It was late in the evening and seemed to call for soft voices.

'Yea, the quarantine has been going on for a while now.'

'I have an idea.' Loki murmured, scooping you into his arms, thick, giant blanket and all. You leaned into him, and closed your eyes again. For a bit you dozed as he walked, taking you wherever he would. You trusted him, wherever that would be, knowing it would likely be in the tower anyways.

There was a rush of cool air on your face and your eyes fluttered open as you heard Loki's boots crunching on the gravel of the Stark Tower roof.

Your mouth fell agape as you stared up at the vastness of space laid out before you, all the stars in the sky spreading for miles around you and Loki as he carried you to a corner of the roof where the two of you could sit down and nestle together.

'Oh, Loki...' You breathed slowly, gazing up at the stars blinking overhead. 'This is beautiful.' You breathed in the sharp air, cool and crisp. So high above the sounds of the city that you couldn't hear the cars or traffic. And with the quarantine, there really wasn't much cars or traffic.

Pulling back your blanket, you patted it for Loki to crawl in next to you. He happily obliged, crawling under and pulled you into his arms before carefully wrapping you back into the blanket once more.

The two of you sat cuddled together, you in his lap, Loki just gently touching at your arms, feeling you in his lap as you gazed up into the infinity of the cosmos. You asked him about Asgard, about his home, what he remembered of growing up, anything that came to mind. And he asked you about yourself. The conversation flowed easily and for hours, only the occasional fits of coughing interrupting the two of you. Eventually Loki conjured water for you to ease your talking and make it more comfortable.

'And that, is the Lokabrenna.' Loki smiled at the name.

You took a sip of your water and leaned back into his chest, just loving the deep bass of his voice in your ears. 'I could listen to you talk all night.'

'Could you now?' Loki asked, chuckling.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, 'Just saying.'

Loki leaned down and nuzzled your face, 'If I were talking to you, I would be more than happy to.'

'R-really?' You felt your flush deepen.

Loki nodded.

You bit at your lip. 'You know what would make this night even better?'

Loki hummed thoughtfully. 'What?'

'Nevermind.' You squeaked, certain your face was on fire.

Loki leaned around you, glancing at your face, looking at you curiously, 'What?'

'I was just going to say, that maybe if... Never mind... It's silly, I'm probably sick.' You forced a cough and turned away.

When you finished cough, Loki touched your cheek and turned your face back to his, 'May I kiss you?' He asked shyly, through long lashes.

'I was hoping you'd ask.'

Loki leaned forward and his lips gently met yours, slow yet short. It was brief and hesitant, just barely connecting, a lifetime that lasted an instant before pulling apart. Then another round of coughs were wracking through you as you turned away and were coughing into the crook of your arm. Perhaps he had taken your breath away.

You inhaled deeply, gazing up at him with a giant smile, 'Sorry.' You croaked.

Loki looked at you concerned, some of his black locks falling in his face. You stroked his cheek, brushing the hair away and touching at his sharp cheekbones.

'Are you alright?' He asked, 'Was that too much?'

'That was wonderful. I'm afraid to ask for more.'

Loki smiled, exhaling softly, his warm breath cascading over your face.

At that moment the dawn chorus began and Loki glanced over his shoulder at the first rays of the sun appearing over the horizon. 'Perhaps I should get you back inside to some sleep. If you are unwell I shouldn't keep you up at all hours of the night.'

You bit your lip, looking to his thin pink lips, so pale and smooth and longed for another kiss. But there was all the time for that in the world. There was the whole rest of quarantine, and then perhaps the rest of life after that. Who knew what the future might hold?

'Yea, let's get some sleep.'

[peteywillproceed]

Photobooths

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Thank you so so much for all the support on Kiss Me! That was my first post on here and I was so nervous :) I’ve had this idea stuck in my head since Youth by Troye Sivan came out, but I never actually finished it (yay for drafts!) Still don’t really know what it is, but anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy it x

Summary:  “When the lights start flashing like a photobooth, and the stars exploding, we’ll be fireproof” - You and Tom have been friends for years, even if you have been keeping your feelings a secret. Sometimes all it takes is being drunk off your ass to finally get the answers you didn’t know you needed...

Word Count: 3,150

The camera clicked and you were blinded, the silly moustache Tom had stuck on your upper lip falling half-way across your mouth as the heat from the lights made you sweat. It was cramped in there, the faded black seat cracked and peeling and the touch screen photo selector taking ages to register your choice. You hadn’t been in a photobooth in years, too smelly, too dirty, too boring. But the alcohol coursing through your body had made short work of any reservations you may have had, too intoxicated by the boy tugging you towards it to care.

“I want the beer goggles too, Y/n,” Tom whined beside you, reaching up to tug them from your eyes. You glanced sideways, swaying in your seat and steadying yourself against his shoulder.

“Take ‘em them,” you mumbled, smiling as he practically snatched them from your head and shoved them over his eyes.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

You giggled, too drunk on alcohol and his presence to care. “It’s your party, dipshit.”

You’d known Tom since year 10, and you’d lived with him whilst you were at Uni, grateful for the rent-free place whilst you were broke. You didn’t know when your feelings for Tom had changed, all you knew was you’d woken up one day and wandered into the kitchen, following the smell of pancakes and bacon. And bam, there he was, shirtless over the oven, towel flipped over his shoulder and sending you a slow grin like he’d planned it all. You were pretty sure that was the day everything had changed, but honestly it could’ve been years ago.

You giggled as the screen slowly counted backwards from three, feeling like you were floating far up in the sky. Tom might have asked you to pull a stupid face, but you were so concentrated on the way his lips were moving that you barely registered it. His hands slid into your hair, threading through the strands and made a peace sign behind the back of your head. You scrunched your nose up and dragged the bright pink feather boa over your mouth, pouting in a drunken attempt to look sexy.

“What are you doing?” Tom laughed as the camera clicked and you were dazzled by the lights again.

“Lookin’ sexayyyyyy,” you threw your hands in the air, frowning at the screen “We only have one more picture left!”

Tom licked his lips, trying to meet your eyes. “Guess we’d better make it special one, then.”

If you’d been sober enough to catch the double meaning, maybe you would have been prepared for what came next. But as the camera started counting down for its final shot, Tom grabbed your chin and turned you towards him, pressing his lips gently against yours just as the click rang in your ears.

For a second, you thought about nothing but the way his lips were moving on yours, the sheer fire that snapped you out of your drunkenness and spread over your skin. You shivered as he cupped your cheek, sure the photo had been taken, but the noise of the party outside had faded and it was just the two of you, your lips moving in time to whatever music was blaring through the speakers.

A strange sensation came over you, the photobooth and Tom’s face beginning to spin, and you jerked backwards at the feeling.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I um…I don’t know where that came from,” Tom stammered, wiping his palms against his jeans.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t him, but blackness was appearing at the corner of your eyes, begging you to fall into the void that awaited. You could see Tom’s mouth moving, desperation crawling into his face, and you tried so hard to make your own form the words you wanted to say. But the tiredness was overwhelming, and soon you were falling into nothing, barely noticing when your head hit the floor of the booth, and Tom crouched over you in panic.

***

The next morning, your eyes opened to a dim room and the scent of caffeine wafting up your nose. Groaning, you tried to sit up, grabbing your head as it began to throb. Dribble ran down one side of your cheek and your hair stood on ends, but as you rubbed your eyes and allowed them to focus, the steaming mug of coffee and two advil tablets placed carefully on the side table drew a smile from you.

You leaned over and choked back the tablets, taking a gulp of the black liquid and savouring it on your tongue. You tried to think back through the mist and fog of last night, remembering basically everything up until you’d gone in that stupid photobooth with Tom. God, you didn’t know why you’d done that, but he’d seemed so excited and it was a chance for you two to be alone, something you hadn’t had in months. You’d have been lying if you’d said you didn’t enjoy the proximity.

“Morning sleepy head,” a familiar, velvety voice whispered.

Looking up, your eyes found Tom’s, and you groaned at the noise. “What time is it?”

“One in the afternoon,” he looked over his shoulder and laughed as he strode towards the curtains and threw them open. “Time to get up.”

“Ugh, Satan,” you mumbled, crashing back into the soft duvet.

“Y’know, I took the day off to keep an eye on you, the least you could do is not compare me to the King of Hell.”

“Sorry, your majesty.”

“Better.”

“Wait you took the day off today?” You frowned, running your fingers through your hair.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? You were drunk off your arse and I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime,” he grinned, scratching the back of his head. Bizarrely, he kept shifting from foot to foot, like he was trying to decide whether or not to sit down.

“The bed’s not made of lava, y’know,” you blinked, patting the space next to you “you can sit down.”

He nodded, still not moving, rubbing the side of his face as your confusion grew. “Y/n, I think we should talk about last night.”

“Last night? I don’t remember most of it,” you brought the coffee cup to your lips and took another gulp, eyes never leaving Tom’s. “Why? Did something happen?”

Tom’s eyes widened as he moved to sit next to you, a frown appearing on his face. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“Nope, sorry,” you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders as you ran a fingertip around the rim of the mug. “Is there something I should remember?”

You started racking your brain, wondering if he’d told you something you should have remembered or pointed someone out to you. If you were being honest, the most you remembered of the night was drowning in his eyes and paying no attention to any of the songs the rather terrible DJ was playing. You tried not to think about how he’d looked in that suit, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and the burgundy jacket that showed off his arms. Right now, he was in his pyjamas, slung loosely at the hips and barely concealing what you knew was there – you couldn’t decide which look you preferred.

Tom looked at you for a long moment, something that looked like pain dancing behind his eyes. You bit your lip and cocked your head, wondering whether someone had said something to him and you’d forgotten. “Shit, Tom, was something said?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he blurted, sighing audibly. “It doesn’t matter, just forget it.”

“Are you sure?” You raised an eyebrow, convinced you were missing something. “Something’s not right.”

“Nah, I’m cool, don’t worry about it,” Tom shrugged, and started to walk towards the door.

“Do you wanna get dressed and go catch a movie? You never have a day off, you shouldn’t have to spend it looking after me.” Maybe you were trying too hard, but the little pinch at the top of his brow made your heart hurt, and all you wanted to do was reach out and smooth it over. And preferably punch whoever had been there in the first place.

He shook his head. “No, I think I’m just gonna go to work.”

“But you took the day off!”

“There’s always something to do,” he laughed, the sound hollow and sad.

“Okay…” you nodded, the coffee cup shaking in your hand. “If you’re…if you’re sure.”

With a final nod, he turned and disappeared from your room, leaving you staring after his retreating back. Whatever had happened there, you wished you could have made it better. Maybe if you could remember what he meant, you’d be able to put the pieces back together and stitch up his clearly broken heart. Seeing Tom upset was like losing a piece of yourself, and until he was fixed you’d be constantly searching for a way to cheer him up.

Half an hour later, you heard the front door slam and the distant sound of his feet ringing on the steps as he left. For some reason, you felt empty, like when he left he took a piece of you with him. All you wanted to do was curl back up in the bed and fall asleep, but it was no use staying cooped up here if there was nothing to do. Sighing, you got to your feet and grabbed your hairbrush, shrieking when you saw the state it was in.

No wonder Tom had practically run away, you had a bird’s nest on your head.

***

Three Months Later

“Tom?” you called out, kicking the front door shut with your foot. “Can you help me?” Grocery bags were piled high in your hands, oranges spilling on the floor as you struggled into the kitchen.

“Here love, let me,” he swept in and gathered the three heaviest ones into his arms. “Harry’s here by the way.”

“Hi Harry,” you yelled “are you the one eating all my chocolate digestives?”

“nrgrnej,” Harry mumbled, stepping into the kitchen with half a biscuit hanging out of his mouth.

“Typical!”

“Can’t help it they’re so delicious,” he shrugged, looking at you with his hands raised.

Laughing, you shook your head and waved your hand in the direction of the bags. “As payment, you can pack those away.”

“Yes, sir!”

You walked into the living room, expecting the bomb that followed Harry everywhere to have crash landed in there too. Sure enough, pillows and blankets were strewn everywhere, the telly was blaring and biscuit crumbs were scattered everywhere, crunching beneath your feet as you stepped into the room.

You couldn’t help the eyeroll that followed, starting the clean up job that would otherwise have taken hours later on. Every so often, you’d come across one of Tom’s socks or a pen he had chewed on whilst making notes on a script, and you smiled at how tidy he was. As you started to finish up and the boys packed away the final can of peas, you noticed Tom’s script thrown on the floor, the bookmark he’d been using turned face up against the grey carpet.

Gingerly, you picked the script up and tucked your finger in the page he’d been reading, then flipped the bookmark over. You smiled as you realised these were the pictures you’d taken in that photobooth all those months ago, probably too drunk to remember to pick them up. But Tom had remembered, like he always did, and a slow grin crept across your face as your eyes trailed across the photos, tracing memories you didn’t know you had.

Until the last one.

The last one you couldn’t remember, but it was clearly there, in black and white, staring you in the face. Your lips on Tom’s. Tom’s lips on yours. And suddenly everything he’d said the morning after, how he’d wanted to talk to you and the hurt look on his face when you said you couldn’t remember anything, came shooting back all at once. You took in a deep breath, hearing noises at the door, and looked up with tears in your eyes.

“Y/n?” Tom said, panic lacing his voice “What’s wrong?”

He ran his eyes over you, freezing as he finally saw what you were holding. You held it out in a trembling hand, lips shaking as you asked him what it was.

“I think I better go,” Harry mumbled, turning for the door. “I’ll call you later mate.”

Tom didn’t reply, still not breaking your gaze and for the first time in the entire time you’d known him, you didn’t have a fucking clue what was going through his mind.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he stammered.

“Why not?” Your voice was barely a whisper, the image of what you had wanted so desperately for years still seared into your mind. How could you have forgotten something like that? Something so cataclysmic and beautiful? You’d kissed Tom – and you had forgotten.

“You said you couldn’t remember…I figured you didn’t like it.”

“I was drunk, you idiot!” You hissed, waving the piece of paper in his face “I definitely wanted to know this happened.”

“But why?” he asked, and you stared at him like he was insane until he clarified. “You didn’t remember it, and you passed out before we could talk about what it meant. And in the morning, when you couldn’t remember, I figured maybe you’d just supressed it, and you didn’t want to think about it.”

Your mouth dropped open, thinking about how all this time the man you were in love with had thought you didn’t want to remember your kiss. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

“You really thought I wanted to forget that?”

“Didn’t you?”

“NO! Oh my God, you are blind!” you groaned, dropping the strip of photos. It fluttered to the floor between you, the chasm of space feeling miles across yet only centimetres deep. “I’m freaking in love with you Tom, I’ve been in love with you for years, I didn’t want to forget that!”

His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth kept moving like he wanted to say something. But you were done with wondering whether he felt the same; you’d kissed and now you felt like you could finally let it all out, what you’d bottled up since that day with the pancakes. What only his mum had heard when she’d found you crying on the kitchen floor the day Tom announced he was seeing someone new. What you’d scribbled about ferociously in diary upon diary, convinced you were stupid and he would never see you the same way.

You were done with the pretending, had been for years, and now was your chance to finally say what you’d only thought about in your dreams.

“I fall asleep at night and I think about you, I wake up and you’re the first person I want to see. When you go away filming I sneak into your room and fall asleep there because it’s the only place that smells like you. I’ve spent hours crying over you, sounding pathetic because I was too scared to tell you how I felt. And then this happens, and you don’t tell me about the one thing that could have changed everything! I had to find out through some stupid photo that you didn’t even mean for me to see!”

By the time you were finished, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were panting with exhaustion, relief washing over you as you finally let go of the deepest secret you’d ever had. Tom said nothing, his mouth parted in shock, and you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, wishing you could just fall through the floor and never come back.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you, gently pulling you into a hug so tight you could hardly breathe. His breathing stuttered against you, and you pulled away so that you were looking him in the eye, your faces only inches from touching. Exactly like that night in the photobooth, only now you could remember every part of this. And you would for years to come.

“I didn’t know that,” Tom’s voice cracked, and your heart broke at the desperation slipping through his lips. “I didn’t know you felt like I did.”

“Like you did?” Your breathing stopped, and you didn’t dare believe you’d heard him right.

Taking a deep breath, Tom gripped your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye, all the bravado stripped back until he was just Tom. Your Tom. “Y/n L/n, I have loved you since the day I met you. Since the day you walked into that classroom, and I haven’t looked back. I never thought you felt the same, and I kept it bottled up for years. For a while, I thought I was over you, but my mum reminded me that love isn’t something that can fade just because you have a replacement.”

“If I could have anyone, I’d still choose you. I’d still choose your stinky morning breath and bed head, the way you can’t cook and the way you can’t stand tomatoes on your sandwich but you love ketchup. I’d choose your body and your mind, you heart and your soul, because you have meant everything to me since the day you first sat next to me in class, and I haven’t seen anything as beautiful since.”

You blinked, barely able to absorb the words let alone process them. You’d dreamed of him saying these words for years, and yet now that you were finally hearing them, it felt less romantic than it was sad.

“You’ve loved me too? All this time?” you choked, letting the realisation wash over you.

“All this time, and more too,” Tom replied, his voice low and thick with emotion.

“And that night in the photobooth?”

You held your breath, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer. For once, your future was out of your hands, and it lay in the balance of a boy you had loved in private for years. You were quite literally on a knife’s edge, and whichever way you fell you had to hope there was someone to catch you.

“That night in the photobooth was the greatest decision I ever made,” Tom replied. “You’re the greatest decision I ever made.”

Maybe you would’ve heard what he was going to say next, but you no longer cared as you flung yourself towards him and let your lips collide. As electricity sparked against your skin, you found yourself slipping once more into the dark abyss, but this time you were ready. This time the only thing you were drunk on was the scent of Tom – and this time, you were never letting go.

[msbarrows]

Cataracts - What Surgery Is Like

As previously mentioned, I’d developed cataracts and am now going through surgery for them, and have elected to document a bit about what it’s all like from my viewpoint. Mostly because I think it’d make a nice reference for anyone wanting to write with some degree of accuracy about what it’s like from the inside.

This post contains a description of the surgical process involved and what that actually feels like, I’m trying not to be overly graphic but I’m also not elliding over any of the grosser bits (thankfully and surprisingly very little).

First off, a descriptiong of the preliminaries. This started for me with my vision going blurry over the last couple of years, and finally getting around to visiting my old optomitrist when I happened to be in Toronto over last Christmas (as my one up north just retired a couple years ago, and I hadn’t replaced her yet). Of the several potential causes for the vision loss I was experiecing, what I had turned out to be cataracts, of the variety that occurs at the back of the lens and therefor doesn’t cause easily-visible clouding. Which I actually said “Oh, thank god!” to when the optomitrist told me, since they are the absolute easiest thing to fix, while some of the other options (detached retina, or diabetes-related macular degradation, to name a couple) are much less so. Then he gave me a reference to an opthamologist. Thanks to COVID-19, it was this fall before I was finally able to actually get to the clinic and see her.

From my point of view, the process then went pretty quickly. Note that I was at an eye institute that specializes in cataract treatment; everything is contained in one building (a nicely renovated Victorian brick house in the Annex area of Toronto). So all tests and surgery are done on premises.

First appointment there, they did the same sort of vision tests my optomitrist generally does, plus some extra inner-eye photography to get a good look at what was going on. This was done by two different people, one doing the eye-chart related tests and a different one doing the photography. Then I met briefly with my doctor, who looked over my questionnaire (which included questions like whether near, mid, or distance vision was most important to me, and was there a focal distance I particularly needed to be glasses free for, etc.), and that I didn’t need nor have interest in a lens replacement that wasn’t covered under our provincial health care.

A week later I returned for them to perform eye measurement tests, which are used as a basis for manufacturing the replacement lens. They measure the size and shape of the eye, and mostly just involved staring into various machines while photos are taken. The weirdest one, which they did last, involved dripping numbing drops into my eyes, and then lightly pressing a small sensor to multiple places both directly on the eyeballs and then on the closed lids. Something to do with viscosity I’d assume.

And now for a description of the general surgical process, which you can also find summarized (or in more detail) at a number of medical web sites. In my case, it was a pretty basic surgery being performed; the opthamologist needed to make a small slit in the outer layer of my eye, used a tiny probe to break down the lens using ultrasound waves, vacuum out the broken down lens, then use a largish needle to insert a folded plastic lens into the eye, where it would unfold within the capsular space and could be tweaked as needed into the correct position. The cut in the eye is tiny enough that it usually doesn’t even need stitching, apparently.

I was asked to arrive at a specific time, and had to start applying dilating drops to my eyes an hour, half-hour, and five minutes before leaving for the clinic. No nail polish or facial makeup. Preferable wearing comfortable pants and a loosely short-sleeved button front shirt without any undershirt or long underwear beneath it (which turns out to be a “just in case things go crazily sideways” measure; they didn’t actually need to access anything on my torso).

The first step after I arrived at the clinic was being dressed in PPE - one of their own disposable masks to be sure I was wearing a good enough one (that wasn’t coated in whatever mine had picked up outside), a hair cap, a long-sleeved thigh-length blue plasticized robe (it had thumb holes to prevent the sleeves from slipping), and booties over my shoes.

Then I was taken to their surgical floor, where a nurse began a series of eye drops. These included more dilation, an antispectic, and an antibiotic, that I can remember - multiple drops of all. She also gave me a teeny tiny pill to place under my tongue and let dissolved, which contained a small dose of a relaxant/anti-anxiety med (Sorry, she told me the name of it at the time but it’s dropped out of my memory). I didn’t notice any particular change in my mood, but then I’d been counting slow deep breaths since arriving (4 seconds in, 4 seconds out...) to help keep myself relaxed and give myself something to focus on that wasn’t omfg I’m going to be awake during this! Because yeah, not having a clue what it was going to be like was stressful. Nurse also took my blood pressure to be sure I was fine in that regards, and put a sticker on the gown to remind the doctor that it was my right eye being done that day.

After a brief wait, I was moved into one of the surgical theatres, where there was a dentist chair they sat me in, then connected a blood pressure cuff, fingertip monitor (hence the no nail polish rule) and sensors on the backs of both hands and one ankle (I’m assuming those were measuring a mix of blood oxygenation and heartbeat, with the ankle one making sure my feet were still getting blood when I was spending the surgery in what ended up as a tipped-over-backwards with head lowest position). They then rinsed my eye and the orbital area with bactine (very yellow vision while that happens), then patted the area around the eye dry.

The doctor sat at my head, and applied a medical drape with a pre-cut adhesive-edged opening over my eye, then peeled off a translucent applique that was over the hole. Then they applied medical clamps that held my eyelids in the open position (which thanks to the numbing drops, I didn’t feel at all). A brightly lighted microscope was then positioned over the eye, and I was told to stay as still as possible and stare at the red dot in the lighted area. The doctor then did the surgery as described above. From my point of view, there was very little to feel; occasional dull pressure, some random coldness that I believe was the eye being irrigated. I could hear the occasional very quiet noise the probe made as the lens was sucked away, but mostly it was just staring at the red light as well as I could while my vision distorted oddly and I continue counting breaths. Within what felt like no more than 5-10 minutes (if that), it was all over with.

They had me continue to lie there for a couple minutes while they peeled off the drape, wiped the eye area clean, and removed all the sensors, then a brief rest before having me sit up.

I blinked once or twice, and... DAMN! Sudden near-perfect vision in an eye that hasn’t seen clearly without help since I was in single digit ages. And the saturation. The detail.

Now, my left eye of course still has a cataract (it gets treated next week). I’d been telling people for a while that basically all my right eye was seeing was blur, so my left eye was doing most of the seeing, and I thought my left eye wasn’t anywhere near as bad as my right. With my right eye now seeing perfectly, I could now alternate opening eyes from side to side, and see just how badly (and irregularly) blurred and yellowed the left lens actually is. To which I can only saw, WTF, how was I even seeing anything at all!?

Then they had me sit for a while in the waiting area, where the doctor came and double-checked I was fine, and gave me a kit in a plastic bag of a card that identifies that I have an interocular lens (and info about it), a prescription for two different eye drops (antibiotic and anti-inflamatory) which was enough for both this eye and the eye getting operated on next week, and a shield to wear at night for the first five nights, to be sure I don’t accidentally rub it or put pressure on it.

Then I put on sunglasses (because hugely dilated eye) and walked out.

Side note - they won’t do your operation unless you have a ride home arranged; because that tiny pill means you’re in a slightly altered state, among other reasons. Good thing it was my brother and not, say, a taxi, since among other things it took us three drugstores to find one that actually had both kinds of eyedrops in stock, yay super fun.

Also, remember me talking about the starburst rays I was seeing around lights due to cataracts? While my eye was still dilated (which lasted until after midnight) I was seeing what I can only describe as ‘Ferris wheels’ - a burst of  rays expanding out like the spokes of a wheel, and ending in an uneven ring of dots of bright light, each wheel matching the colour of the light causing it. Looked wild at night. Thankfully that effect has now gone away.

Had a follow-up appointment this morning where they did an eye chart and the rebounce test where they puff air at your cornea, and the opthamologist says the vision in that eye tested as 20/20 (WOOO! Finally something good with that number). I can see sharply and clearly for blocks from the mid-range on out. Sadly when I try to use my computer, tablet, etc (near-range and close vision) the eye can’t focus down far enough; some of that may improve over the next month or two as the eye continues healing, and adapting to the lens. In the meantime my sister suggested I try a pair of her reading glasses and, yay, that worked. I am now planning that after my follow-up appointment for next week’s surgery on the left eye, I’ll run around and pick up 2-3 pairs of reading glasses of various strengths (which I will get will depend on what seems to work best with arm’s length and close-in viewing), to carry me through until I go back to an optomitrist in a month or three, and get my vision evaluated to see if I need actual prescription reading and/or far distance glasses.

In the meantime, apart from computer/tablet use, I am glasses free. I can’t even remember ever having such sharp, clear, and saturated vision (since I’ve been in glasses for such a long time). You know the “oh, trees are made of leaves!” effect? I am getting that with every single thing I look at. Oh, that’s how much grey is in my hair? Weird, I never noticed this wall was textured before. Oh geez, that text over there is so small and yet I AM READING IT. I mean, even with glasses I probably was never able to read that from this distance! Etc ad infinitum.

It’s just so, so nice.

And that’s with just one eye finished. I am now really looking forward to next week’s surgery. Stress? What stress!?

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Money worries, kissing

Pairings: Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~1.9k

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Masterlist

Chapter 11: A Real Date

“So, you’ve come to us.”

Remy was sitting on the couch, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as Roman paced in front of him. Logan merely sat on the side, a notebook in his hand.

“Roman, I just asked for ideas of where to go.” Remy shook his head. “Maybe I should just ask Em where he wants to go.”

Practically vaulting over the coffee table, Roman snatched Remy’s phone out of his hand. “No! Please, let us help. I’ve been dying here. You never give us any details!”

“Because there aren’t any to give.” Logan said before either of them could speak again. “This will be their first date, remember?”

There was a huff from Roman. “Fine. But I want to hear details after, okay? Emile clearly makes you happy, and that’s what we want for you.”

“I will give you details.” Remy held up a hand as though he was being sworn in. “Now can I please have my phone back?”

“Not until we think of a place.”

“What kinds of things does he like?” Logan asked, pen at the ready.

Remy thought back to all the times he and Emile had spoken. “Well, he really seemed to like Roman’s play. He loves talking about his job and how well his patients are doing, even though he can’t name names. Oh, when we were talking about Finding Nemo - Dory specifically - he mentioned that he hadn’t been to an aquarium in a really long time. Something about Patton being scared of the sharks and Virgil not liking the tunnel.”

“That’s perfect!” The high-pitched shriek from Roman had Remy and Logan covering their ears. “Sorry. But imagine it! He can check out all the fish while you check him out.”

Logan nodded, putting his pen down. “Not how I would’ve put it, but Roman is correct. An aquarium date seems like it would work well. And if everything is favorable, you could buy him a cute stuffed animal from the gift shop. From what I’ve seen from Virgil and Patton, their family seems the type to appreciate those types of gestures.”

“Can I have my phone back to let him know then?”

Plopping Remy’s phone in his hand, Roman picked up his own and began typing furiously. He and Logan left the room, likely talking to Patton and Virgil in their group chat.

Babe: How does an aquarium date sound?

Honey <3: That sounds lovely! I know a restaurant nearby, we can have dinner and then go to the aquarium if you want.

Babe: Sounds perfect. I’ll pick you up at 6?

Honey <3: Sounds good to me!

The second Roman walked in the door after school on Wednesday, he dropped his backpack and went to find Remy. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“Roman, I’m working.”

“You have a date to get ready for!”

Setting down his tablet pen, Remy spun in his chair. “It’s only three. I’m picking him up at six. Can I get an hour of work done before you insult my closet?”

“Fine.”

Whirling around, Remy continued working on his design. It was a tattoo that one of his regulars had requested, and he was hoping to finish the overall design by the weekend. It covered a lot of skin and would rake in some much needed cash for the parlor.

He quickly fell back into the zone, working on the clean lines. It wasn’t until he felt Roman physically tapping his shoulder that he realized it had already been an hour.

“You’re done!” Roman said, pulling the chair back from the desk. “Time’s up!”

“Okay, okay. Let me save.”

Roman waved a hand toward the tablet before tapping his foot on the ground. When Remy had finished saving, he found himself being dragged into his bedroom. Logan was already in his closet, sorting through the clothes.

“I’ve found some suitable pieces for a semi-formal restaurant, as well as one that would require a more formal dress.” He said as he laid out some clothing Remy hadn’t worn in forever. “Do you know which type of place you’re going to?”

“Let me ask.”

Babe: Sweetheart, what should I be wearing to this lovely date?

Honey <3: Wear something semi-formal! Though I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suit <3

Babe: A birthday suit?

Honey <3: I wouldn’t be opposed *kissy face emoji*

Feeling his face heat slightly, Remy pocketed his phone before Roman could steal it and attempt to read the messages. 

“Em says semi-formal.”

Logan put a few pieces back into the closet, before nodding to Roman. “You’re up.”

Roman dug through the pieces, holding up a shirt here and there. He shook his head on a few pieces, tossing those at Logan. Grumbling, Logan hung them back up and put them back in the closet as Roman continued.

After nearly fifteen minutes, Roman had a full outfit. He pressed it into Remy’s arms, pushing him toward the bathroom. “Go! Put it on!”

In the bathroom, Remy finally got a good look at the outfit. He couldn’t help but smile. Clearly Roman had gotten his sense of style.

He pulled on the gray pants. The black and white striped shirt was next, though he did fumble with the buttons for a second. It was a simple look, but it fit him extremely well. Emile wasn’t going to know what hit him.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Remy did a twirl. “Hmm?”

Logan tilted his head, taking it in. “I believe it would be best to show off your arms. Many people are attracted to tattoos.”

“I’ve definitely seen Emile checking out your arms.” Roman teased, coming over and perfectly rolling up Remy’s sleeves. “Lo?”

“It is as close to perfection as it can get, given that perfection is unattainable.”

With a smile, Remy held his arms out, wrapping them around his boys when they jumped into them. “Thank you for the help.”

“I have one final question.” Roman said, looking up. “What’s for dinner?”

“I don’t think we’ve seen Gerald in a while.”

“YAY!”

After ordering the pizza, Remy headed back into his office to get some work done. He quickly found that he couldn’t concentrate. A certain pair of green eyes continued to float through his mind.

Before he knew it, he realized that he’d completely started a new design. A brain, with the definition lines showing off a question mark in the white space.

“That wasn’t the one you were working on before.” Came a sing-song voice from Remy’s side.

Checking the clock, Remy swore. It was only a few minutes to six.

“I’ll be home late. There’s ice cream in the freezer, do your homework, don’t kill your brother!” He called out as he grabbed his wallet, jacket, and keys before darting out the door.

He pulled up to the Picani’s just as the clock rolled over to six. Calming his breathing as he strode up to the door, he knocked.

Only for the door to open and have Emile knock the breath from his lungs anyway. The pink dress shirt hugged Emile’s small muscles in a delicious way. Not to mention the pants that were showing off his curves.

“You look amazing.” He said, sure that there were stars in his eyes.

Blood rushed to Emile’s cheeks immediately. “Why thank you. You look great as well.”

“Just go already!” Two voices called in unison.

Laughing, Emile shut the front door, following Remy into his car. He slid a hand over the leather seats. “I don’t think I’ve ridden in your car before. It’s nice.”

“A lot nicer than a minivan.” Remy teased, earning a playful glare from Emile. “I kid, I kid. The van is way easier for when we all go somewhere. Now, where is this restaurant?”

“It’s near the aquarium, so we can park in their lot and walk.”

Emile refused to tell Remy anything else about the restaurant. Instead, they chatted about how their kids were doing in school.

“Patton has been doing so much better, thanks to Roman.” Emile was saying as they pulled into the lot. “I’m glad he found someone who thinks like he does.”

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, Remy said, “Same with Logan and Virgil.”

The two got out of the car, Remy immediately offering his arm. Emile took it, feeling another blush creep up his neck. “It’s just over here.”

“Wait, we’re going to Lottie’s Boulangerie?”

Upon hearing the concern in Remy’s voice, Emile stopped. “Did you not want to -”

“No, I - I do want to.” Remy glanced back toward the restaurant, taking in the shining lights that were going to make Emile look positively radiant. “I just...it’s a little on the expensive side and -”

“Rem, I’m paying for dinner.” Emile’s tone of voice told him there would be no argument. “You can pay for the aquarium tickets.”

“But -”

Tugging on Remy to spin him around, Emile slid his arm up to wrap around his neck. When he heard the sharp intake of breath from the other man, he bit back a smile. “I’m paying for dinner.”

“O-okay.”

Emile immediately let go and started walking, trying not to laugh when he heard Remy scrambling to catch up.

Dinner went swimmingly. The two of them loved their dishes, and their waiter was as polite as can be. Emile snagged the check before Remy could see it, leaving behind a generous tip.

Before long, the two of them were entering the aquarium.

“Wow.” Emile breathed as they entered.

Remy felt his heart swell as he watched Emile look around. He’d purposely picked a day of Aquarium After Dark, so that they could be a little more alone. It was an adult only night, ensuring that they wouldn’t be bothered by any screeching toddlers or crying babies.

“What do you think?”

“It’s so much prettier lit up at night.”

Remy paid for their tickets, noting that they weren’t nearly as expensive as their dinner was. But Emile had insisted on paying, and he wasn’t exactly rolling in funds, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

The two of them strolled through the different areas, taking everything in at their own pace. Emile had squealed when they found the ‘Finding Nemo’ tank, filled with all the fish that could feasibly live together.

“Look, it’s Dory!” He whisper-shouted, despite the two of them being the only ones in the room.

Remy pointed to a clownfish. “And Nemo and Marlin.”

By the time they reached the tunnel, one of the last areas of the aquarium, the two of them were holding hands. Emile let go to get up close to the glass, watching the sea turtle swim by.

Taking a deep breath, Remy walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Emile and nuzzling his hair. “How was this for a first date?”

Emile gently turned in his arms, a soft smile on his face. “I’d say it’s one of the best ones I’ve been on.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Their noses brushed.

Remy leaned in.

Their lips connected.

Emile’s hand moved to thread through the hair at the nape of Remy’s neck. Remy curled his arm around Emile’s waist, dragging him ever closer.

When they parted, they were both red faced and breathing heavier.

“Definitely the best first date.” Emile whispered before leaning in once more.

[aelaer]

Accomplishments Yay

On being social:

Okay! I managed to get through about uh, 50 review replies tonight dating back from March when I just fell off the face of the earth. I still have another like, 60 to go (and like half of those are from you while I was on a tumblr/fic hiatus @oo0-will-of-the-wisp-0oo so expect like 500 emails hopefully by the end of the weekend with a lot of thank yous lmao).

Then after that it’s my tumblr PMs and tumblr @ mentions I can find over the last monthish. And then I’ll be caught up partially on the social side amg. There’s still about ~5 old asks that will take a good chunk of time to reply to, plus two fanfic recs that I meant to write about in farking March and never got to. Those areeee coming.

On being a reader:

It took me 7 weeks, but I went through all 86 pages of English Corvo Attano fan fic (from Dishonored) on AO3, and read everything I was interested in (I was doing it nightly, more or less, and I’m a fast reader lol). Now that I have completely and utterly *consumed* that small fandom, to the point that I desperately went to ff.net to see if there was anything good (I found only one good one, how far that site has fallen since its mid-2000s glory years!) I am ready to go back to reading Other Fandoms.

I read BBC Sherlock many times a week throughout part of 2017 and most of 2018 so I think I still need a break from that (honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if I read over 10 million words), but if anyone has any recommendations from the MCU that’s been created since February, I’m all ears. Not sure yet about LOTR, I spent so long there that it’s hard to imagine what fanfic has been created from 2011 to 2020 - the stuff I read from 2001 to 2010 were a huge influence on me growing up. But I wouldn’t be opposed to recs there, either, I think.

On being a writer:

In my mad bout of research last night I actually wrote like 200 words of a sketch for Blood In My Veins to help solve a plot point that I’ve been having a lot of issues with. It’s not *story writing*, but fuck, I’ll take outlining at this point.

I reread a handful of my one-shots after work today to remind myself that I actually really like my writing and should continue to pluck at it. I consider myself a better writer than artist, in any case.

My end of summer writing goals (now that my consumption of my new obsession is finished) is still forming. It’s about 5 weeks. What I think I’d like to do is something like this:

An ask fan fic prompt a week (I still have about 10, I need to spit ‘em out!) Writing short things is a good exercise, me. No more than 5k, I think.

Finish my farking crossover. That was meant to be done in February :/ End chapter shouldn’t be more than 3k.

Write like, 5k of the next story in Earth-197320. It’s got 9k in it, it’s at a very pivotal time, this story. This story establishes a lot of the *whys* and the transitioning.

Throw in like 2k towards Blood in Our Veins.

20k in 5 weeks should be doable if I don’t keep wasting time doing other things. I don’t think I’ll be able to do that mad rush of like 100k words I did in 2019, but I’d like to have more writing done this year than has thus far been accomplished.

On being an artist:

I have two art prompts left. I am going to try and tackle one tomorrow, keep it to no more than an hour, hopefully.

And I need a final illustration for my crossover. I’ve already selected the stock image I’ll be using. I don’t expect it’ll be anything more than a pencil drawing, though.

I’d like to get a tablet where I could draw without getting out my laptop and Wacom drawing tablet. I don’t know what program to use for such a thing, though.