#i’m so very stressed recently so drawing mr anxiety himself!

[irlplasticlamb]

the bear.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Would you do a Jean x Reader x Reiner one? The reader felt so betrayed by Reiner being a titan shifter and when he left she felt so confused whether she can loves him or not after finding out the truth. Jean comfort her and they eventually fall in love. Or you can do a modern au one where Reiner cheated on the reader and Jean begin to see his chance with the reader then they both had a relationship. But she still can't forget Reiner. I truly love your writing! Have a good day ! ♥

i was wondering if you could do a modern au jean x reader. where the reader is very stressed for a test of some kind, and jean and the reader end up skipping the test and spend the whole day together instead, where towards the end of the day jean confesses his feelings for the reader. a lot of fluff please if you could i am obsessed sorry by @cj-sparkss

A/N: So i decided to merge those two requests because they fit really good together in my head! I hope ou guys like this! I strongly recommend listening to any song in Halsey's album, Manic while reading.

Pairing: Jean/ Reader, some past Reiner/ reader if you squint

Tags: college!au, art school au, fluff all the way

Warnings: Jean being way too cute for his own sake, seriously

Sketches Of You

Your head was burning.

Your eyes were stinging; tiny little little blood vessels were popping here and there, throbbing profoundly as they merged together, rushing their way to your irises. You didn't know for how long you had been awake, mostly because a few days had passed and you didn't remember falling asleep or waking up on your once comfortable desk chair.

Before you laid numerous books open in different pages, most of the writting they held emphasized by your favorite pastel highlighter. What felt like your lamp buzzed, burning a canary yellow light over the mahogany material of your desk, warming up the spot where your hand used to lay. A pen in your hand was all you could bring yourself to hold with your numb, frozen fingers, the plastic edges of its tube sunk into your skin, carving bumps to mark their spot in your hand.

Wait, oh no, you thought as you looked around this wasn't your dorm, this was the university's library.

The library around you was extremely quiet as you laid face down on one book, your mouth slightly part and your lips dry save for the little ribbon of drool that moistened a line down your right cheek. Only for one more minute, you told yourself, deciding to shut your eyes together just to allow them sometime to rest, ignoring how such request was what had caused you to drift off to such extend in the first place. Stinging tears escaped the corners of your eyelids, signifying how tired and dry your irises had grown to be. Letting out a huge sigh you tried to lift your head, at least this could be an attempt to get your life together for the day.

Your scattered books came to close quietly under your palms, the numerous pieces of papers and notes being tucked messily in between pages, your own fatigue causing you to break your own rules when it came to being as neat as you could with your notes. Another sigh left you as you sank into the back the plastic chair, your books firmly standing on top of eachother and into your palms.

This test was going to end you. You knew it. Despite having tried to memorise all the information that was required for you to even try to get a five -seriously, a five would be absolutely godsent if you could at least get that grade- all you were left with was your brain feeling mushy and muddy without any actual knowledge of the subject you had been studying for. Why on earth was gothic architecture an essential class in your first year in art school was beyond you. Was this university never supposed to let you graduate on top of trying to prevent you getting in for numerous years?

Resisting the urge to scream or pull your hair off your head you decided that it was time to get up, your knees straightening slightly at the your brain's command, only to be sent back into the blue plastic of your chair, your whole body growling in fatigue. Your chest heavied as you let out a whine, bringing your hands to your eyes to scrub away the stinging ache you were feeling.

"You good?"

Your head turned to the direction of the voice maniacally, your eyes shooting wide as you practically ripped your hands off of your face. Looking up, your (e/c) orbs met with hazel ones, little specs of yellow and green stared back at you through thick eyelashes, adorned with a complex of worry plastered on dark chestnut eyebrows.

"Yeah Jean, I'm just studying."

"Oh it's Mr Ackerman's test right?"

"Hm" you hummed in response, another whine coming out of your lips.

"Yeah I remember how that class went for me. He's pretty nice if you get to know him though. I have to submit a few sketches for tomorrow, can I sit with you or were you leaving?"

"No, I'll keep you company, I need a break from whatever.." your eyes wandered at the books in your hands and the numerous note sheets peaking out from anywhere you could lay your gaze on "..this is."

Extending a hand Jean reached out for the head of the chair right next to you, pulling it back in order to let himself sink into the dark blue plastic seat, similarly to you. His lips pushed into a thin line as he looked at you, his cheek puffing up in the action. A hand came to your shoulder comfortingly as another one pulled out his sketchbook from his run down and way too littered with dry paint tote bag.

"Are those for Moblit's workshop?"

"Mhm." Jean confirmed. "You got any 0.8 tipped inks?"

"Yeah, I do."

Setting the leather covered sketchbook on the mahogany table Jean turned his head to you again, pointing his eyes onto the black pencil case in front of you. In response you shrugged your shoulders, your palms shooting up to your eyes once again. Jean's hand grabbed on your case, his long fingers digging through the numerous inking pens and markers that overlapped each other.

"I can't believe you have the Sakura Pens when you know I don't like them." Jean whined, hands roaming through your belongings still.

"Jean," you said, a deep chuckle escaping you in the process "I happen to like them, you know."

"They're yikes."

"You just can't use them correctly."

"How do you use an inking pen correctly. Enlighten me." Jean mocked, his fingers throwing signs in the air to accentuate his words.

Resting his head on his fist Jean opened his sketchbook, swiping through numerous ivory cold pressed pages, filled with inked sketches. Your eye twitched as you tried to keep up with many of the drawings you could spot; you had seen the contents of this sketchbook a thousand times, admiring Jean's skill with ink. His professor, Mister Moblit had one of the most interesting workshops for students who specialised in inks, and you aspired to take his classes in your following year in art school, supposing you could pass your classes this very semester.

"What are you supposed to be drawing?"

"Anything, mostly things that make us feel like they are important to draw." Jean said.

"Oh and library is important?"

"Sasha said you'll be here, so yup. And I want to draw my hands actually "

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head in borderline disbelief. Honestly, if you weren't that bummed about your test and your recent break up you could have laughed at Jean's sly arrogance. Your eyes traveled to Jean, examining his quiet form as he studied his palms. Inevitably your eyes studied them as well.

His fingers were long and tan and harsh to look at, scrapped in most places with tints of Indian ink. They stuggled to manage with your pencil case, his pinkies and thumbs couldn't even begin to fit in the little object and it made you wonder how he even managed to work his inking pens correctly with such enormous hands. Some veins popped from here and there, accentuating his bulky joints perfectly; they run from the back of his palms to his wrist, mingling with more of their blue kind in his calfs and biceps. The occasional blotches of dried paint were decorating them. Even some paint covered hairs spiked as the light contracted his form.

You smiled miscellaneously.

Your own finger traveled without remorse towards them, poking at a few hairs that were littered with paint. By pinching one, Jean shot back in half pain, his brows furrowing in confusion as he stared at you. "Hey, what they fuck!"

"You do that to me all the time when i have paint in my hands!" You half laughed, shooting him a mocking furrowed look as well.

“You’re so cruel!” Jean grinned.

“To pay you back with your own penny right?”

Jean cocked his eyebrow at you, a few lines begging to make an appearance on his forehead. He shook his head a couple of times, throwing a few shaggy strands of hair away from his face, his forehead immediately lighting up as his ashy blond locks overlapped just above his ears. You mimicked him, using a hand to move your feathery bangs away from your face as to not have them intertwining with your vision.

Jean brought a digit to his mouth, biting at the bulky knuckle while wrapping his lips around it to suck at the sore spot, dramatically mourning the loss of one single hair. It made you laugh harder than it should have and you told him off, quickly grabbing his hand by the wrist to pull it further away from his mouth.

"Ew you idiot are your hands even washed!? Don't put them in your mouth!"

Jean's smile faded gradually as he nodded its only reminder remaining in his eyes as they softened with each passing second they looked at you. You bobbed your head to the side, taking in the way he was looking at you and you felt your gut grunting in the anxiety you had managed to drown at one time.

You definitely knew that look.

"So how are you after... The whole Reiner thing?"

When Jean let the sentence out, he instantly regretted it. Biting back the inside of his lip, his teeth dug into his soft, fleshy gum, the tiny specks of spiky under lip hair he had poking through his chin. You could see the regret plastered on his face, yet you ignored it with a sigh, pushing your stern further back into the chair again.

Of course Jean would ask about that. Reiner and you had broken up a little less that a month ago and it was stressful enough to send your anxiety over the roof. Coming home to find him drapped in the sheets with someone else was still burning through your brain like a hot iron, marking the fleshy crevices by piercing your skull.

Jean and you hadn't had a chance to talk about your break up yet; in the midst of it being a spontaneous reaction to Reiner's anathema and your upcoming mid-terms, you had chosen to indulge yourself fully with the everlasting pleasure of delving into studying.

And now, as you tried to utter your awaited words your stomach clenched at the foreshaken memory that you had tried to bury in the depths of your soul, your hands sweating just a tiny bit as you gulped down on some saliva to dumpen your dry throat. Jean's hazel orbs were set on you with curiosity and reluctance, his skin tingling inside his crewneck sweater.

"I mean, Eren told us about it and then we fought on who would punch Reiner first you know."

You oggled at him as he spoke awkwardly, your lashes batting rapidly as a wave of confusion washed through you.

"You don't have to hit Reiner you know, we all make our choices and he made his."

"Ah," Jean sighed heavily "I suppose so. I'm here for you though, you can talk to me."

"You're actually doing an assignment at the moment" you said and pointed your finger onto his sharp nose, giving him a playful push to the side. "No need to talk about my sorry love life."

"Your love life isn't pitiful, don't talk about it like that!"

"It's not pitiful, just sad." You sighed, reaching out to your pencil case. "Just sad."

Your fingers run through the case even though your eyes weren't fixated on the action, your sense of touch working its way to let you know which object you were seeking. The tips of your fingers caught on the thick Posca marker quickly and you locked it in a grasp between your pointer and middle finger, bringing it up through the zip up opening.

"Give me your hand." You ordered at Jean as you clapped your fingers to your palm in a 'come here' motion.

"It could always get better you know." Jean spoke and threw his hand to you.

Slowly the cap was off the market with a snap and you slid it up towards it's butt to pop it on there as to not lose it in any case it feel off of the desk and onto the mosaic floor.

Jean's nose lit up in a faint scarlet and his ears followed right next, lighting up in a deeper shade of the color on his nose which made his hand snap away from you in a matter of seconds. With puckered lips he stared at the corner of the room that was in the opposite direction of yours, his gut drenching him in short tempered anxiety.

"You done painting my nails with the posca pen?" Jean remarked, lips still puckered as he turned to face you. "When's your exam?"

"Three o'clock."

"Wanna ditch?"

Your eyes goggled in his for a second. The luminous morning light that peaked through the library binds fell onto him dearly, caressing a few of his features in a lemony colored mellow way, your gaze traveled into anywhere on his face as you tried to examine his expression while your gut was beginning to churn at the sly thought of agreeing with his query.

Weighting your options wasn't a seriously hard thing to do; if you took the test you were most likely going to fail, but if you didn't take it you'd have to live with the guilt of not even putting the minimal effort in it for a few weeks. But, you had tried so hard to pass all of your other classes so why shouldn't you slack off for one that was bound to end in a fiasco?

You found yourself nodding to Jean before you could actually give more thought to it. His face immediately lit up, ashy blond locks flying over his eyes as he shook his head in excitement. With one move his sketchbook was closed again, left to mourn over the non existent scribbles Jean could have made during all this time he was sitting next to you.

The hard cover protected sketching pages were thrown into to his tote bag once again, the sound of the sketchbook colliding and clashing with a few more objects he had in the bag filling the silent air of the library.

"Put your books in here!" He offered, opening the sides of the tote bag right on front of your face, signaling you to do as he suggested.

By taking a long sigh you took a turn in throwing your books and pencil case in the bag, one object following another on the pursuit of finding their own place in Jean's crammed bag. A shy smile adorned your features as you looked at him, the mischievous little devil on your shoulder smiling proudly at your actions as if you were a high schooler skipping school.

_____

Black Cat was a notorious cafe among art university students for numerous reasons. For example, it featured a decent amount of of beautiful contemporary art that was meticulously merged with the soft, cobblestone-cottagecore-home-during-the-winter aesthetic and all of their tables, stools and booths were artist-friendly to the max. Additionally it played Nirvana and Metallica for most of the day and on top of that they actually had a chunky and extremely cuddly black cat roaming around the store that you often found on your lap during your time there.

Oh, and the batwoman made amazing custom cocktails.

Really was there anything else anyone needed in a store?

The soft tangerine light flickered open as the sun outside started to hide it's shy low lights under the peak of a mountain you couldn't recall the name of, the soft smell of apple pie filling your nostrils as you sipped lightly from your earl gray tea occasionally, stealing a few glances of Jean's focused expression. A knowingly half smile went up to your face as you looked at the scenery outside before fixing your eyes back onto the bright screen of your phone.

Jean cooed in his leathery chair for the upteenth time today, his gaze fixated on the sketchbook on his hands. You had spend last hour in absolute silence; you had decided to roam around in your phone for references for an assigned collage you had to do in Photoshop as Jean had settled on drawing the horizon from outside the window to practice on his perspective while finishing up the sketches he had to submit.

Your day had passed by pretty fast; you had visited an urban side of the town that was flooded with art supply stores and you had delved into every single one roaming around to find any kind of supplies you were short on, or just generally needed. As Jean correctly had said, you are always short on art supplies.

Thus, you had ended up with a bag filled with complementary acrylic colors in tubes of 20ml mostly because they costed a dollar each, and also because as art students you got to receive twenty percent off of all your supply bills. Jean had only bought a new set of watercolors and a few Edding inks and 0.7 tipped poscas, as he was sure he would ruin your expensive Sakura Liners in his attempts to finish his project.

Then you had decided to cram your place for some much needed lunch before heading off to Black Cat to have some tea and coffee while Jean would finish off his last few of the sketches he had been drawing throughout the day.

"So" Jean awkwardly spoke as in to break the deep silence, his thumb pressing over the edge of the page his drawing was placed as he closed the sketchbook carefully "I wanted to ask, because ahem, I'm your friend and I'm worried about you... Do you want to vent about Reiner?"

"Ah, no" you shook your head and fixed your gaze onto the auburn colored liquor in your cup as you reluctantly lift it up to bring it to your lips before speaking "I mean, I got so sad you know. And I haven't gotten over it, of course, I mean I liked Reiner. A lot."

"I came see it in your eyes. But I'm here for-"

"And he's a bitch you know? He could have told me if he was bothered by anything I did or if it wasn't going well for him. I'd gladly work anything out or even break up peacefully."

"You know," Jean sighed, he too bringing his cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip before gulping it down. "My opinion is obviously biased here, but I support you. I've took a psychology class and we were actually delving into as to why some people cheat, there are many reasons as to why it could have happened."

Your heart slightly aches as you looked at him, a few veins in your hand twitching slightly as he continued rambling about all things he had grasped from his class. Your stomach growled angrily in anxiety, warning you to put an halt to your friend's words but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Not knowing the reason as to why Reiner had chosen to see someone else behind your back had hurt you beyond repair. Deep inside you still felt the need to get some closure, although with your stress on your exams you had been sure you would most likely give in to anything Reiner would say and this wasn't who you were.

You could go on without having any closure, it shouldn't have mattered so much to you in any way.

And to some extent it didn't.

"I'm hurt, but I'm the other hand I don't really care about anything you know?"

"Mhm, yeah, look at you getting over it so quickly!" Jean said semi enthusiastically. "You need to be able to share your pain in order for it to become small and eventually non-existent."

"You know, for someone who takes such sophisticated classes you talk like you haven't slept in ages!"

"Give me a break, as if you don't."

The two of you burst into bubbling laughter, your chests heaving and falling as the sounds of joy left you one by one. Jean's hand had come to rest on top of yours softly, giving you a couple of squeezes as his eyes squinted in synch with yours.

And then, in a moment that seemed like it was forced out of a coffee shop au fanfiction, Jean's hand rubbed a few soothing circles over yours. Slowly his laughter was begging to set into a silent harmony, the woody brown specs of his eyes providing the slightest tint of warmth into his gaze.

"This is why I love you so much."

The choice of words was supposed to be naive whether it was intentional or not, or that's what you tried to tell yourself because you thought you knew Jean better than anyone. The look in his eyes, the soft upwards curves of his eyebrows, the way his top lip overlapped go bottom one as his eyes glimmered into yours; this wasn't a very casual look for Jean, it was the look he had on when he was looking at something that mesmerised him. And you knew he meant exactly what he had said.

But did you like Jean?

Well, was there anyone who could spend so much time with Jean and not fall for him, even without realising it?

At one time it had become obvious that he liked you, although he'd never act upon it. You knew it in his movements, in the little ways he looked at you or cared for you like no one else actually did while hiding behind the mask of being a friend. Eren had been one to tease him for it restlessly and you had been able to catch upon that too but you had never let it be known that you had been able to see through his facade.

"Forget it I shouldn't even have had-"

With curious eyes you stared back, your gaze never truly leaving him. When he suddenly shook his hand off of yours you found your other hand pressing on top of his, trapping the limb in place as you tried to open your mouth to utter any word. It was still hard to find the right choice of words, ones that wouldn't hurt to be heard.

"Jean... I-"

"No, forget it, it just slipped, shit."

"Look Jean shut up for a second please I want to speak okay?" You huffed half playfully, despairate to stop Jean's mumbling "I know."

"You know?" Jean cursed under his breath.

"Yeah, I do, it's obvious. And I've had this huge crush on you ever since fifth grade you know? I never really got over you because I spent all of my teen years thinking we'd end up together."

You watched as Jean's face lit up at your words, a new glimmer adorning his eyes just as the sky turned a sheer violet as the sun retreated deeper into a non visible horizon.

"And then we kissed in eighth grade and we fought about it and we stopped hanging out because I asked for space since I just could believe what was happening. But we're friends again and it's the best thing to happen to me in years."

You continued, your hand never leaving his while soothing circles were rubbed onto his palm.

"But I'm not going to ask you for space this time."

"You're not?"

"No. Just a little patience. I'm still getting over Reiner and I don't want to be unfair to you and rip you off of something that you might ask from me."

Jean snapped his hand away from yours and you retreated your hands back to yourself shyly, a bitter mouth leaking into your mouth as you tried to swallow it down fast to no avail. Somehow your heart felt a strong stinging, the pulling of your heartstrings at steak while your heart was sprawled before you.

Was that your last chance with Jean? You had told yourself that time and space between you would be right one day, but that day seemed to stray further away now, slipping right off your hands because you couldn't forget Reiner fast enough.

"I'm not fourteen anymore, so don't be afraid about me straying away. I just wanted to show you something."

Jean's worked through the pages of his sketchbook, taking a few seconds before they landed where they wanted to. Flipping the sketchbook to match your point of view, he revealed the sketches he had been scribbling all day. They depicted you in majority. The look on your face as you picked a tube of paint, your hands as they grabbed through numerous brushes and sketchbooks. Even the way you stared at your phone as you sat across him was perfectly sketched on the paper and hatched in indian ink, adorned by Jean's raw drawing style.

"Jean, that's me!"

"Mister Moblit told us to draw things that were personally important to us. So, I hope you don't mind."

Damn, you felt like tearing up.

In the midst of trying to get your stupid heart to calm down from the impossible rhythm in which it was beating at and stating at Jean's sketches so hard that your eyes felt like they'd pop out and any given moment your would felt like setting fire to your whole being while your tears were restlessly trying to put it out. It was even outdated to feel like that about Jean, your younger self told you but there was no way you could help it.

With rivers of tears running from the corners of your eyes you looked up at the hazel orbs that were set on you, feeling your heart want up by their luminous gaze.

"Jean I-"

"Shush, you don't have to say anything. Just let me know if I can hug you."

"I'd love that." You said shyly under your breath.

Next thing you knew Jean had gotten up from his seat and had plopped himself right next to you, pushing your head deep in his chest. The song in the background faded gradually as you felt serenity wash through you, despite your heart hammering in your chest beyond a point you could actually feel it.

And for now all that mattered was that you could listen to Jean's heart beat nearly as fast as yours while his words played inside your head.

Maybe, just maybe time and space between the two of you was right this time.

taglist: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 @ackermans-freedom-inc @melancholicmonologue @berrijam @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore 

[heloflor]

So, given that I didn’t have much time to work on fics recently because school, I’ve decided to relieve some stress by making a random representation of how I imagine Cavendish and Dakota’s house in their time-period looks like. And since I have no plans to ever describe it in detail in a fic, here it is ! Though, given how bad I am with designs, showing the house is mostly an excuse to infodump on domestic headcanons.

Regarding the last names, I didn’t make a typo for Cav. I like to imagine the two getting married way before the events of the show, with Cav taking “Dakota” as a last name, mostly because he got several siblings in-law on the Dakota side who adopted him on the spot.

And about the representation of the house : yeah it looks like shit. Since I can’t draw, I’ve decided to do something rather quick using MSPaint but yeah, not the best thing in the world. Though, if I get back to playing the Sims 3 at some point and end up making a Dwampyverse savefile, I’ll most likely try to recreate that house and could share a few pics.

I also went with a rectangular house with one floor instead of some futuristic-looking thing, mostly because I have no imagination when it comes to design. Though, you could still use the excuse that they want something more “old-timey” given their job or that they don’t have all the money of the world so they chose a simple house for the small cost. But yeah, by the end of the day, the choice is mostly because I can’t design shit.

But still one thing in my defense : looking at episodes that take place in the future like “Missing Milo” or “First Impressions”, it seems that most buildings are square-y with the roof being the weirdly-shaped part, with B.O.T.T. being one of the few exceptions. And looking at “A Christmas Peril”, the buildings are definitely more wacky but it’s 20 years later so…

I could also mention that I’m a bit unsatisfied with how empty the living-room and the bedroom ended up being but I’m drawing a total blank when trying to come up with the kind of stuff Vinnie and Balth would have that are linked to their interests. Though, maybe the excuse of them not being often at the house works ? Idk. Let’s just say I have ideas for the “basic” stuff, aka what you find in basically every single middle-class house, but draw a complete blank for anything that’s decorative. Still posting a map of the house tho because I don’t really consider it a work in progress if I simply have no idea and may never do. I’m very bad at design so bear with me on that one ! It’s not only about the house, it’s also about the fluffy headcanons !

So here’s under the cut some random info about the look of the rooms and furniture + a bunch of headcanons regarding Vinnie and Balth’s lives in this house. For each part of the house, you first have the info about how it looks first and then the headcanons.

Those headcanons are made with the idea that Vinnie and Balth are married (duh) but also, for a few, that Vinnie has three siblings + a few in-laws that he has a good relationship with.

(very long post ahead)

General :

- They bought the house in 2162, 2 years after getting married.

- It’s in the suburbs, or at least what the future version of the suburbs would look like. In other words, the presence of a backyard is debatable.

- There could be a garage for their time vehicle, so that they don’t have to go to headquarters every single day. And if not an actual garage, there’s at least some space to put it. In both cases, it would be near the bedroom’s side of the house.

- While the walls outside would have that futuristic “metallic” look, the walls inside would be a bit warmer. At the very least, the inside isn’t “future metallic white”, especially with Vinnie having photophobia.

- The intensity of the lights in every room can be adjusted. That way, Vinnie can put the dimmest light and navigate the house without his glasses. This is mostly useful for showering and midnight snacks.

- When they went house-hunting, Balth was the one who insisted that they needed a place with those kinds of lights. This is also the same kind of lights that Vinnie had in his now-former apartment.

- You know how near the end of the episode “First Impressions” you have Balth going into Mr. Block’s office ? Well, the way the door opens in that moment is how the door opens for every room of the house, perhaps excluding the main entrance (I like the idea of their front door being an “old” one, aka the “normal” doors we have today).

- Every room would have a spot that can create “tactile panels”, like some holographic tablet that can be used to change the settings of the house, for example changing the lights or the internet or even lock the doors and blinds.

- In 2175, when they were forced to leave the future, Vinnie stole a device from B.O.T.T. that made him able to create some kind of forcefield around the house that only he and Balth can remove. So, even if they’re not there anymore, the house still is theirs and can’t be sold to anyone else. And before you ask why B.O.T.T. didn’t simply send agents to bring the duo back and force them to open the shield : the forcefield works with hand-scan detection and Vinnie convinced Balth to use their left hands, the hands with the wedding rings. So if time-agents come knocking, they could try convincing the agents to let them use the bathroom first and they could wash their hands and use the soap to remove the rings. That way, the scan wouldn’t work and the agents would have no way of knowing why.

    Living room :

- There’s more furniture than showed here like souvenirs from previous missions or some random stuff that belongs to them. I just don’t have enough imagination. : /

- Likewise, the corridor has a few pictures or posters, like pictures that Vinnie didn’t have the space to put in his memory room but still wanted to display. Also, I want to say that Vinnie would display pictures of his family (sibling, in-laws and nephews) but I’ll see him more as having an album for family pictures, or a framed picture on his nightstand.

- There could definitely be a carpet or two. They would either be modern ones to fit the fact that they’re from the future or vintage stuff found in some of their missions. One of the carpets would be under the coffee table. Another would be in the big-ass space between the living-room and the kitchen, or in the corridor.

- The style is a mix between old and new stuff, with also a few things related to their interests. Like, for example, the couch could have an animal pattern or something (AND BY THAT I DON’T MEAN REAL ANIMAL FUR).

- Speaking of the couch, after looking up “futuristic couch” on the internet, they would absolutely have one of those gigantic couches that have like a bed attached to them due to how big they are. Btw I have no idea which company came up with this design and I couldn’t care less. It’s just that the design looks cool and would fit a futuristic house.

- The side table is a floating square, given how we see in “A Christmas Peril” that tables in the future don’t have feet anymore (that’s one way to protect your toes).

- The floor lamp is more futuristic. It’s like a white orb attached to a lamp foot.

- The TV is attached to the wall. The remote is some kind of holographic tablet, kind of like the house settings thingy.

  - This is where Balth would spend most of his mornings and evenings when they stay home. He’d just be sitting with a cup of tea, most of the time also a book, with the sun illuminating the room, just feeling comfortable and peaceful. The side table/cube was bought specifically for Balth’s tea. He would also use the lamp while reading in the late evening, either for the peace of having little to no light and solely focusing on the book or as a way for Vinnie to be in the room with the lights at the lowest setting. And speaking of Vinnie, he would sometimes join his husband on the couch, lying down with his head resting on Balth’s legs (cue Vinnie falling asleep, leading to a frustrated Balth who needs to pee but doesn’t want to wake him up).

- Since there’s a mini-table for when Balth drinks tea, the table right in front of the couch is mostly used for Vinnie to rest his legs on.

- And speaking of fluffy headcanons : movie nights. From time to time, aka minimum once a month, probably more, the couple would be in their pajamas cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, with Dennis resting in Balth’s arms.

For the movie choices, Balth would choose science-fiction, especially if there are any Professor-Time-themed movies, but also historical fiction (for some reason I tend to see Balth as having a liking for history ? I think it’s because of the way he dresses + his small rant about pirates in “Game Night” ? Idk honestly. It’s mostly a random headcanon that’s here for some weird reason). As for Vinnie, it’s mostly animal documentaries (Balth falls asleep halfway through but Vinnie doesn’t notice until after it’s over) or animated/family movies (the future equivalent of D*sney, S*ny pitcures, P*xar etc. Which are movies Balth would enjoy as well). For some weird reason I’ll also see the two of them being into mystery movies (crime-solving movies basically).

And if they sometimes decide to watch other genres, I could see Balth having a liking for some romance movies, because for some reason I like the idea of Balth being sappy. Besides, the guy is passionate when it comes to proving himself at his jobs and takes them pretty seriously in order to reach his objective. And given how he can be insecure and sometimes feels like a ball of anxiety, who’s to say he isn’t passionate when it comes to love too ? And no, I don’t mean passionate as in “making out all the time”, I mean passionate as in taking relationships seriously and making it work while also wishing to make sure his partner knows that he’s loved, even if Balth isn’t really the best at expressing his affection all the time.

On a different note, to get back to other genres : Vinnie would probably like horror movies. Because if cuddling in front of a sappy movie is great, having your husband show his love and trust for you by clinging to your arm out of fear is even better, nevermind the fact that you’re as terrified as he is.

    Kitchen :

- It’s one of those kitchens with two walls of cupboards/cabinets, both on the ground and elevated. One of the cabinets is used entirely for snacks. Because Vinnie.

- The wall separating the kitchen and the living room “has a hole in it”. It’s like you have a small wall with cupboards, a hole, and a wall connected to the ceiling with a few cabinets. Basically, you look up “kitchen cupboards” and imagine that the space in-between is a hole instead of the wall (why is it so hard to explain something so simple ?).

- This would be the most futuristic-looking room of their house. Looking up at references, they’re that Pinterest post showing a room with white cabinets with round corners and what seems to be slide doors. This is pretty much how I’ll see their kitchen, except bigger, with a different wall color and with one wall not being here (see above).

- The table is floating because of course it does. The chairs don’t tho. Also the chairs are as futuristic as the rest of the room. And looking up the internet again, the chairs are shaped like chairs.

  - So I put a stove but tbh I’m not sure how much these two would cook, given how in the show they’re always seen eating out (granted they don’t have a kitchen in their ‘apartment’ in Milo’s time). And given how most things seem automatized in the future, let’s just assume that the house can do most of the cooking itself with like a robot (aka plot-convenience technology) but still needs the necessary furniture and ingredients for the recipes. Also, if there’s an issue with their cooking system, they’ll probably know a few recipes and can feed themselves (Vinnie’s oldest brother Enzie would definitely teach his younger siblings a few recipes, at least enough to survive on their own. And he would be more than happy to teach his brother in-law as well).

- I put 4 chairs at the table but honestly I could see them keep 2 at all times and put the others in the storage room, especially the times they get very busy with their job for a few weeks and don’t have the time for social life.

- At some point, Balth probably tried to convince Vinnie to have better food habits and tried to put his snacks on the higher shelves. Not only did it not work because chairs exist but also it led to Vinnie getting frustrated. So Balth dropped it. Though, he would still try to talk Vinnie into working out to stay rather healthy.

    Memories room :

- Vinnie’s personal space. He basically saw the third biggest room of the house and went “mine now” and Balth had no issue letting him have it (hard to say no when Vinnie’s eyes shine like that).

- He already had a memory room in his old apartment.

- Basically, Vinnie brings back souvenirs from his missions, along with pictures he took, and put them on display. For more information, I made a post about it a while ago, so check it out if you want info on it.

And side note : I learned more about ADHD and autism later on and found out that the correct word for Vinnie’s passion for animals is a special interest, not a hyperfixation. The main difference between the two terms is how long your interest last. The reason I used “hyperfixation” in my post is because 1. I didn’t know that “special interest” was a term that existed and 2. people with ADHD kept talking about having hyperfixations and most people see Vinnie as having ADHD. So yeah, my bad for using the wrong term. And while I won’t change the current text from my post, especially with someone in the notes correcting me (I don’t want them to look like an idiot), I’ll definitely add a few words at the end of the post about it.

 - This is where Vinnie spends most of his time when at home, trying to keep the room in the best condition.

- There’s a window in the room but Vinnie condemned it in case some of his souvenirs were sensitive to the sunlight.

- The room is made entirely of shelves, with like four-five rows on the same wall. The shelves are either integrated into the walls or they’re floating because future. In any cases, there’s nothing around the shelves, it’s just shelves with stuff on it.

- When you enter the room, one of the rows of shelves next to you has all the animal-related stuff he gathered before starting a relationship with Balth. The rest of the room can have a few animal-themed objects but the pictures tend to be more linked to him and Balth.

- Likewise, when you enter the room, on the shelf you’re immediately facing, there’s a miniature recreation of their wedding altar with their wedding picture in its center. The miniature is made out of the future equivalent of papier-mâché and the altar is themed around time-travel with objects from all kinds of time-periods and cultures. And for those who might ask regarding the picture : Vinnie has a black suit and carries the bouquet while Balth has a white suit. Both have a hat that’s basically Balth’s usual hat (with the Professor-Time goggles, because themed wedding) but colored like their respective suit.

    Balthazar’s office :

- The room has quite a few libraries but this is mostly decorations. Basically, this room is more of an 1800th century study than anything, especially a rich/royal study. Yeah, for some reason I see Balth as having an office that’s just “rich 1800th century” aesthetic. I think it’s from the headcanon of him being a runaway prince 🤔.

- So yeah. The bookcases are vintage, the piano is your usual black piano, the armchairs are vintage and tbh Balth almost never uses them because he’d rather read in the living room, and the desk is vintage, though the stuff on the desk is futuristic. Balth is up to date with the technology he’s using to work, he just likes the older aesthetic for the rest.

- On his desk, despite literally living with the guy, Balth has a framed picture of Vinnie (again, I want the stubborn gay disaster to be sappy from time to time, with his love language being small touches and attention to details like for example being able to quickly see the kinds of foods Vinnie like the most so that when he’s in a bad mood, Balth can get him that specific food to make it better ; or learning Vinnie’s body language to know when he’s upset or bothered by something).

  - Balth mostly spends his time here to make the reports on their missions or work some administration stuff when needed. When he isn’t at his desk, he’s there to play the piano.

And yes, I throw out the window that line from “Backwards to School Night” that indicates Vinnie doesn’t know about Balth playing piano but tbh I ignore or question quite a few things from this episode such as : the line indicating that Vinnie and Balth don’t live together in their time-period since Balth doesn’t know Vinnie’s weekend habits ; the line about how the ray thing age you down to 90% your current age and yet baby Vinnie seems younger than the parents despite his adult self seeming older; the fact that Melissa read a book 16 times in the span of 6 minutes ; the fact that it’s called a “age regressor ray” and not a “age regressor ray-inator” (seriously, I am the only one always expecting Vinnie to say “inator” and being disappointed when he doesn’t ?).

- The couple absolutely sing songs together with Balth playing the piano. Or at least Vinnie would sing a song in the middle of the living-room and have Balth be annoyed by it, only for Vinnie to hear Balth play the same song on the piano later and join him.

    Bathroom :

- Not much to say here. It’s a bathroom. It’s futuristic-looking. The mirror is a cabinet. The tub is round. The bin comes in and out of the wall. The clothes drier also irons the clothes. The toilet is glued to the wall. The walls are dark gray or dark blue or at least a darker color so that Vinnie doesn’t have to dim the lights to the lowest level when he’s showering. There are also several little lights along with a main one so that Vinnie can light the small ones instead of getting a headache due to the brighter light. During lazy/slow days, Balth would take baths instead of showers (and Vinnie would want to join him to make out). Balth may or may not sing in the shower (Vinnie definitely does). That’s pretty much it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

    Guest/Storage room :

- Only used as a guest room when one or several members of the Dakota family are visiting the states and end up in the Tri-State-Area. So for 90% of the time, the room is used as storage.

- Bed’s not that big and very “squary”. Might or might not be floating.

- It’s mostly random junk that they don’t know where to put and don’t want to get rid of, like some stuff they got from their missions but that Vinnie doesn’t want in his room or some old things they want to give at a garage sale or that one Professor-Time body-pillow that Balth refuses to let go of while Vinnie just wants to trash the thing. The body-pillow being in the storage room in a junkpile was their compromise on the issue. Also, whenever someone might stay in the room, Balth makes sure there’s no way they will find the body-pillow (his sister in-law Bettie would never let him live it down).

- Not much to say here either aside from that.

    Master bedroom (the room in which the proportions are way bigger than the rest of the house because I have no idea what I’m doing) :

- I described the room quickly in my fic “nightmares” but yeah basically the room has several posters and pictures related to their interests, along with a bookshelf full of animal encyclopedias, time-travel facts, history books, Professor-Time fantasy books etc. There are also albums, whether it be family pictures or album of the two of them.

- Like for the living-room, there can definitely be more than what I described/pictured here. I’m just really bad at imagining the kind of stuff people would have in their bedrooms related to their interests. And speaking of which : at some point, there was the aquarium that Vinnie mentions in “Time Out”.

- Unlike the other rooms in which the windows have roller blinds (apparently that’s the english word for it ?), this one has curtains on top of it because Balth likes to open the window in the morning but he doesn’t want Vinnie to hurt his eyes. So with curtains, he can open them enough to light the room but not enough for the light to reach Vinnie’s face.

- The bed is pretty classic for a futuristic bed but with round edges and these two idiots definitely go crazy with the sheets design (animals, food, Professor-Time, past time-periods, stuff like that). Also, the bed is “open”. By that I mean that, if you look at futuristic designs, there tends to be some roof thing above the bed and linked to it. They wouldn’t have that.

- The nightstands are floating cubes.

- “Dennis’ chair” is just some random old wooden chair where Dennis stays most of the time. Balth almost never takes him during his missions and Dennis is a comfort object that Balth mostly talks to when sitting on the bed, movie nights aside. So the bear stays in the bedroom.

- The bookshelf would also be made of wood.

- The wardrobe is futuristic, with doors that can open by themselves with sensory detection. Also, unlike what that poor “drawing” shows, the wardrobe is “taller” than it is “larger”.

- The armchair is an egg chair.

  - They sleep

- They spoon

- Balth is the big spoon because 1. he’s taller and 2. he grew up sleeping while embracing a teddy bear and old habits die hard.

- When Balth goes to sleep or wakes up, he can’t help but play with Vinnie’s hair and give the small man a few kisses, feeling satisfaction in seeing his husband smile or try to pull away while laughing.

- Vinnie sleeps on the side closest to the window while Balth sleeps on the side nearest to Dennis.

- Balth’s nightstand has an alarm clock that’s basically just a holographic square with numbers on it, while Vinnie has an album or some random animal trinket. Vinnie’s alarm clock is not feeling Balth’s warmth against him. But if Vinnie has to use an actual alarm, the sound would either be some old-fashioned song or an animal noise (is this starting to get too much insistence on the “animal-loving” side of him ?)

- While Balth likes to read in the living-room, Vinnies likes it better to chill in the bedroom when reading. Also, during weekends and vacation days, Balth would sometimes read in bed before sleeping (yeah for some reason I really like the idea of Balth being a reader. I think it has to do with him being old or british ??? Weird brain is weird. And besides, if Balth reads, it would most likely be science fiction related to Professor Time). Vinnie uses this time as an excuse to cuddle.

- They have themed pajamas. Balth mostly has Professor-Time stuff (clocks, Heinz or Perry’s faces etc) while Vinnie has mostly animal-themed or food-themed pajamas.

- Vinnie sometimes sleeps naked in the summer. Balth is still trying to figure out how he feels about that.

- Random headcanon regarding Dennis : while he belongs to Balth who keeps him close when in doubt in order to vent or when he wants to get comfortable somewhere, I actually like to believe that, between the two, Vinnie is the one who talks the most to Dennis, mostly because Vinnie would just enter the bedroom and casually greet the bear, or he and Balth would have a dumb argument and Vinnie would playfully tell Dennis “Can you believe that guy ?” while pointing at Balth. Just, Vinnie being Vinnie and having random one-sided conversations with the bear.

And a little cute thing : while Vinnie really just talked to Dennis because why not, seeing the guy like the teddy bear so much would actually make Balth feel better about himself. I like to believe that grown-up men having plushies would still be seen as a ridiculous thing by most people (because toxic masculinity) and Balth got the habit of hiding Dennis when he was still trying to find the right guy for him. So seeing Vinnie have no issue whatsoever with the teddy bear and even liking him would definitely help Balth’s confidence, along with warming his heart.

- And since this post is all about headcanons : two things about phones and these two being sappy that have nothing to do with houses.

1. One day, Balth left his phone on a table and Vinnie decided to take a selfie with it because why not. After seeing that, Balth acted frustrated but ended up putting the pic as his phone background. Ever since, Balth’s phone background is a picture of Vinnie. The most recent one is from “We’re Going to the Zoo” with a picture of Vinnie holding squirrels in his arms while a third one is coming out of his pistachios-filled pants. The pic on the phone is a closeup, only showing Vinnie’s head and upper body. And for those who like angst, I’ll let you imagine how he must have felt having this as his phone background during the rogue arc.

2. Vinnie’s (numeric) phone password is 2703, aka march 27, the date of his wedding anniversary. The day is put first and the month second because Europe. Also, during busy weeks, this would be a good way for Vinnie to remember the anniversary.

(fun fact : I was trying to come up with scenarios for fics when I ended up thinking about Vinnie’s password and that number came to mind. So I just went “guess that’s their wedding date now”)

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1K~

Summary: An awkward interaction with his dad and Connie leads Steven to realize that he's now too Gem to all the humans in his life. Takes place after We Need To Talk.

Some mild Steven sad! If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

“And Connie? If you ever need to talk to another human being about this... you can always talk to me.”

Steven is still in the middle of processing what his dad just said, expression blank, as his best friend innocently hums in affirmative response.

Dad shines a kindly smile at her, holding his hand out for a high-five. “Human beings?”

“Human beings!” Connie chimes eagerly, and seals the deal with the clap of her palm against his.

But sitting immediately adjacent, the young half-Gem can’t help but feel some undefined facet of his soul deflate as he watches the two of them forge this new bond. Seeking some temporary form of solidity in response, his hand drifts towards the stone at his center.

“Human beings...” he echoes under his breath, his normally jovial voice ringing hollow.

_

It’s not too long after that conversation that Steven waves Connie goodbye at the bus station, thus closing their idyllic Saturday afternoon spent hanging out together. He idly bounces up and down on his heels as he watches the vehicle slowly disappear around the corner, turning onto the single lane road that leads out of town. In a lonely, childish fashion he desperately wishes she could stay longer, but she’s gotta get home in time for her dad’s home-cooked dinner, after all. She said he was planning to make cheese ravioli! Very tasty choice.

With his friend now safely on her way, he runs across the crosswalk to begin his journey towards his own home. Unlike her, he doesn’t have any guardians or home-cooked meal waiting for him. (He rarely does.) The Gems are out on an important mission they said they couldn’t take him on. Dad’s gonna be at Mrs. Miller’s house playing cards, spending time with other fellow humans. It’s just gonna be another quiet evening for him. Despite the frequency of nights like these, the realization pulls a quiet sigh from his weary body, his shoulders drooping ever lower as he contemplates what on Earth he’s gonna make for himself, grasps to remember what food they have left in the fridge that hasn’t spoiled yet.

As seems common lately, his fixation on one worry quickly acts as a stepping stone to another.

Which is how he finds his hand clutching at his shirt, right above the quartz gem at the center of his belly. It’s become a subconscious habit, these days. Probably a sign of ambient stress. But what does he even have to be stressed about? He’s got four guardians who love him, a house all to himself, two arms and two legs to cook his own meals, a best friend he loves very much, and he sometimes gets to go on magical adventures. He should have no reason to complain. His life is great! By all logic, he should be satisfied.

And yet...

“Human beings?” his dad asked, holding his hand out for a high-five as if Steven himself weren’t sitting right there, feeling tragically and unintentionally alienated as the two of them forged some exclusive pact of solidarity over a feature he always thought all three of them shared.

“Human beings,” Connie replied with a too-enthusiastic grin, and clapped her hand solid against his.

Steven swallows hard upon recollection of this recent memory, an insidious weight bearing down ever heavier on his chest by the second. Rough wooden slats creak underfoot as he finally reaches the beginning of the boardwalk, continuing his slow-paced voyage to the tip of the peninsula.

“But... I’m human,” he whispers to himself, the words tasting more like a desperate plea for belief on his tongue. “Or at least, part human. Right?”

His fingers dig into the sturdy cloth again with an intense grip, hovering directly over the glossy facets of his inheritance.

Am... am I... not human enough for them anymore?

An uncomfortable ache settles deep in the pit of his stomach as he considers this concept further. He’s always assumed that... even if he fails at being a Crystal Gem, at least he’s really great at human things like music, and video games, and drawing. At least he has stuff like that to fall back on. At least he has his dad, and his best friend, and everyone in town to hang out with. But the more he stops to reflect on everything...

If you ever need to talk to another human being about this...

Can he even count on them to accept him as he is?

All this time he’s considered himself human and Gem, but he’s slowly beginning to realize that everyone else doesn’t see him as either. He’s always too squishy and fragile to go on such-and-such dangerous mission, or his powers are still too unreliable, or he can’t survive underwater like “all Gems can.” He’s too human. Yet reflexively, to all the humans in his life it seems like he’s suddenly too Gem? And for what? Just because he’s starting to gain a better grasp on a few selected abilities now, like fusion, or his bubble? Just because he’s seen all these magical places, experienced all these otherworldly things? How is any of this fair? Can’t Connie still talk to him about all of this? Isn’t he still a human too?

Mostly...?

Sniffling, he wipes away the burgeoning tears threatening to trickle down his cheeks. In the end, he figures there’s no use crying about it. That’d be silly. It’s just... how things are, as of now. He’ll get through it, and by the morning he’s sure he’ll forget it was ever a problem.

That’s just how life works.

When he eventually reaches his house, he shuts the door behind him and kicks off his sandals. True to his suspicions, when he opens the fridge he’s not super impressed with his selections. There’s no leftovers, no eggs he can scramble, no vegetables that aren’t already in a state of decay, and it looks suspiciously like Amethyst’s been mooching on all the meats and cheeses again. He sighs. Usually the Gems take great care to ensure the fridge is stocked, but everyone’s been so busy scouting for any sign of Malachite or Peridot lately that they’ve probably forgotten.

He raises on his toes, and opens the cabinet above the counter to check on their stock of staples. A quick once-through shows that he does have all the ingredients for a peanut butter and honey sandwich, but to be honest his heart’s simply not into the idea of making food himself right now. Stars’ sake, he does that almost every night!

He’s tired.

He deserves a pick-me-up.

(He wets his lips, suddenly salivating as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, a tasty little dinner idea brewing within his mind.)

...he deserves a pizza.

It may not cure any of his anxieties, but that’s okay. After all, it’d be silly to expect such complex circumstances to change in one night.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123 @xiaomailab

~^~

Monday, 08:08

Song: Mr Probz - Waves

Jens is nervous.

His hand bumps against Lucas’s, fingers twitching as if planning to intertwine before they flutter away, raising to rub at the back of his neck or push through his hair. Lucas hesitates to take it in his own. He doesn’t want to increase Jens’s anxiety by pushing unwanted affection onto him, and he certainly doesn’t want to do it in the middle of the street. Since telling their friends, Jens has been more than open with their relationship, almost to the point of flaunting it, but Lucas can’t be sure that recent events haven’t changed that.

He is reassured slightly when, about a block away from the school, Jens finally gives in and grips his hand tightly. Lucas holds on, squeezes, brushes his thumb over the skin soothingly, all he can think of to make Jens relax. But when he notices the uneven cadence of the other’s breath, he draws them to a stop and tucks them in against the wall, blocking Jens from the odd passerby with his body.

“Hey,” he says, coaxing Jens around towards him and capturing his gaze. “You don’t have to do this. You can go back to the flat. We both can.”

Jens shakes his head, taking another uneven breath. “It’s just getting in there. I’m fine, I swear. I have Robbe waiting and you with me. I’m good.”

Lucas squeezes his hand. “You have all of us,” he reminds Jens softly. “You have a crazy amount of friends who love you and would do anything for you.”

“I know.” Jens blows out a sigh, nodding. “I know that.”

“Okay. How about we just take a minute here, hm? Just a few extra seconds for us.”

Jens nods again, closing his eyes and leaning into Lucas. Lucas sets a hand on the back of Jens’s neck and plays with the ends of his hair, trying to soothe his own heart. This is so far from the Jens that he’s familiar with, and it pains him to see. He has seen Jens falter, has witnessed a number of his inner struggles and seen him both sad and unsure. But these are always simply moments—washed away in a sudden instant with a smile and a light beautiful enough to challenge the moon. Lucas hates that this runs deeper. He hates that Jens is in pain and there’s very little anyone can do to take it away.

“Stop worrying about me,” Jens pokes him in the side. “You’re gonna get frown lines if you keep pouting like that.”

“And you wouldn’t love me then?”

Jens pretends to consider it for a little too long, and Lucas punches his shoulder. Jens makes an exaggerated sound of pain, then laughs when Lucas presses up onto his toes to give him a brief kiss.

“Come on,” Jens mumbles, before stealing another peck. “I’m okay.”

Lucas sighs, settling back on his feet. “Okay.” He retakes Jens’s hand and leads them towards the gate, merging back in with the growing stream of other students.

Jens does seems a little more relaxed, and nothing in his posture changes as they make it to the courtyard. They both cast their gazes around, but it isn’t hard to find a bundle of familiar faces. The other boys are sat at their usual table to the side of the building, but this time the girls are with them. They are crowded onto the bench seats and perched on the table and standing at the side and completely and totally oblivious to Lucas and Jens’s arrival until they’re just a couple of feet away. Yasmina spots them then and her lips turn up in a smile as she waves, earning the attention of the rest of the table. Jens’s grip on Lucas’s hand tightens just slightly.

Moyo is rocking back and forth on his feet as they grow nearer, and he latches onto Jens as soon as the boy is within reach. He pulls him into a brief but tight grip, clapping his back once and offering a greeting that Jens easily returns.

Lucas watches the interaction with a smile, and accepts Moyo’s fist-bump/handshake combo when it’s offered.

“Morning, boys,” Zoë says, smiling gently at them both as Robbe scoots down the bench, shoving Aaron on the way until there’s enough space for Jens to slide in next to them. Lucas simply takes up his station behind him, looping his arms loosely around Jens’s shoulders and smiling when his boyfriend sneaks a kiss to his hand.

“Ey, come on,” Luca waves a hand at them from across the table. “Isn’t there enough affection from living together without the public displays?”

“Still jealous, I see,” Jens quips, raising his brows at her as Lucas huffs a quiet laugh, relief already spreading through him.

Luca flips him off and sticks her tongue out at him, and Yasmina laughs from her place standing next to her. “That’s a great way to defend your maturity.”

“Thank you.” Luca takes a mini bow to herself.

Robbe elbows Jens in the side before propping his cheek on his fist, twisted around to smile at them. “I think they’re cute.”

“Of course, you do,” Moyo snorts. When Lucas elbows him, he adds, in protest, “I didn’t say he wasn’t right.”

Jens reaches up to grip Lucas’s hands, leaning a little further against him, content to let his friends and boyfriend joke and bicker. It works to put Lucas at ease, too, when he’s able to note the tiny smile on Jens’s face.

Zoë speaks up hesitantly from where she stands at the opposite corner of the table, next to Amber. “I’m not trying to be nosy or pushy,” she says slowly, “but what are your living arrangements?”

It manages to suck a little of the light back out. Zoë already seems apologetic as Jens’s shoulders curve inwards, making himself a little smaller even as he shrugs. “I’m just staying with Lucas, for the time being.”

They all absorb this for a moment. Aaron looks across at them and asks, “Like until it blows over or...you find something else?”

“I don’t think this will be something that blows over,” Jens admits quietly.

Moyo shakes his head, scuffing his shoe loudly against the concrete with his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s some fucking bullshit. You haven’t even gone back to get your stuff this weekend, have you?”

He hasn’t, and it’s obvious by the fact that he’s wearing Lucas’s clothes, which aren’t quite as loose as his usual outfits. They’re all also aware that Jens still doesn’t have his phone, though he’d been able to use Lucas’s laptop to stay in contact with them and to call Jana the night before. Lucas had sat in the sitting room with his dad to give Jens his privacy, and he’d joined them about an hour later with red eyes and less of a weight on his shoulders.

Jens shakes his head and tugs Lucas’s hands, and Lucas holds him closer against him.

“Do you want somebody to go with you?” Yasmina asks.

“I don’t know. Luc’s dad already offered to drive me, but I don’t actually know if it’s the best idea to let them interact.”

“I’ll come with you,” Moyo immediately offers. “Luc can even come in the car as moral support if his dad’s driving us. Whenever you want to do it.”

“If you want to do it,” Lucas corrects. “Dad can go get your things, seriously. And I’d make sure he does it on his best behavior.”

Jens tilts his head back to look up at him, debating over the two options. He eventually seems to come to a decision and asks, “Would he be able to drive us tomorrow evening?”

Lucas nods. “If we ask him, he’ll make it work for you, yeah.”

Jens glances up at Moyo, but the boy is already shaking his head. “You don’t even have to ask, man. I’m there.” He taps Jens’s temple with his knuckle and earns himself a grateful smile, that he only returns with a nod.

“If you’re looking for somewhere,” Zoë speaks again, drawing the attention back towards her, “I think Milan would love to have you.”

“Yes, fuck,” Robbe brightens, smiling at her. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

Lucas can’t believe he hadn’t, either, but Jens quietly admits, “I thought about it. But I still have no way of paying the rent.”

“Dad said—“ Lucas starts, but is cut off by Jens squeezing his hands.

“I know. But I can’t accept that.”

“Did he offer to help you pay?” Yasmina raises her brows. “Jens, an offer like that must be genuine.”

“I know,” Jens repeats, sighing. “But it’s too much. First I’m living in his house and then he’s paying my rent? What does that look like?”

Lucas squeezes him. “Who cares?” When Jens looks up at him again, he continues. “I don’t. Dad doesn’t. I’m pretty sure Milan wouldn’t. You really could get a part-time job and he could just help make ends meet.”

“Did you think about getting a job?” Moyo asks. Lucas and Jens nod. “There’s a place going at the cafe. They’d hire you no problem.”

Jens blinks at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, man. It’s basic enough work and the pay is minimal enough but honestly better than most places. They don’t need much of a CV for washing dishes and busting tables. It’s gonna be a little more stress on top of school, but if you want it, I’ll see if I can get you an interview?”

“Seriously? Do you even have that much sway?”

Moyo shrugs. “I’m one of their highest-tipped workers. They love me. Honestly, man, you could handle this job like a pro.”

Jens still hesitates, looking up at Lucas again for help. Lucas squeezes his hands and shrugs, but smiles encouragingly. “I can’t see anything wrong with trying.”

“If it gets too much, you can always quit,” Amber points out. Lucas thinks this is the first time he’s seen her so serious, without her usual bubbly demeanor. “We can all help take care of you if you need us.”

“Even Jana,” Zoë reminds him. “She told me you spoke to her. Just because she’s not here doesn’t mean she’s not available for you any time.”

Robbe bumps Jens’s shoulder. “Sander, too. And Milan and Senne. Any of us, any time, okay?”

Jens’s nod is slight, and Lucas can tell he’s getting overwhelmed. It doesn’t seem to be in a bad way, however, so he feels safe enough to lean down and press a kiss to Jens’s hair. “And me, always,” he whispers against his temple, and Jens clutches his hand and lets out a tremulous breath.

“You’re sure Milan wants to put up with another stray?” he asks Zoë.

Zoë grins at him. “I think he’d love nothing more.”

“He’ll be fucking ecstatic,” Robbe agrees. “We’ll never escape him.”

Zoë and Jens laugh, and Jens glances around them all another time before breathing, “Thank you.”

The first bell rings before they can offer any more sappy replies, so they all simply smile, before sighing or groaning as they rise and collect their things.

“I’m a little disappointed that not a single one of you offered to take my exams for me,” Jens sighs. “Especially you, Robbe. I’m friends with you for a reason, nerd.”

Robbe makes an affronted noise and gives him a shove, leading into a chase towards the school as Jens runs away from him with a laugh bursting out.

Lucas grins as Luca joins his side and fondly claps his shoulder, hoping that things are finally looking up.

[star-birthmark]

Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader

Finally... FINALLY IT IS DONE! This is infernal ask that has been in my inbox for so long!!! Thank you to @stardustbrosaders for the request all those months ago lol. This was the request: “Heya! Would it be possible to write a P4! Jotaro x Female! Reader where the reader gets her stand under stress from a battle? The group almost gets defeated but the reader’s stand appears and she beats the enemy, saving everyone? For the readers stand type could it be close range like SP and CD?”

I also drew the reader’s stand for this fic. You can find a link to the stand info here. 

This is a long ass fic btw. It’s literally 11 THOUSAND WORDS. I don’t know what compelled me to make the fic this long. I really don’t. But I did and here we are. I hope you like it, no matter how long it is!

Quick content warnings: General violence and angst, strangulation, murder (duh)

Without further ado: Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader (11k words)

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but it had just been a long day, and no progress had been made to capture that force. The team’s morale was low. The exhausted high school students stumbled home to catch a good night’s rest, thoughts of ongoing danger in their small town looming over their heads. The young manga artist Rohan Kishibe grumbled to himself about his failures, wondering how a genius like him could not decipher this mystery like he had last time. You felt a heavy air of unrest lay over the town as you awkwardly shifted in your seat on the ride to the Grand Hotel, looking over at your travel mate as he silently ran over the facts in his head. He shook his head in frustration. None of this made any sense. All the victims had been killed in the same way, so it must be a stand, one that didn’t leave behind any evidence, one potentially even more dangerous than Kira. 

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but you didn’t know anything about the first monstrous event that had occurred. The small town’s silent saviors all agreed with one another to seal their lips and tell no one what had really happened. Not that anyone would have believed them. 

But you would have. Your travel partner didn’t know anything yet, but the more time you two spent in this strange town, the crazier you felt you were becoming. You were seeing objects levitate in the air, you were seeing arms stick out from these bizarre teenagers. At this point, you’d believe anything just to make it all stop. You stumbled inside from the taxi, convinced this small town was driving you insane. 

Your partner turned to you in front of your hotel room, his own room right next door, and placed his large hands on your shoulders. 

“Are you alright (y/n)? If any of this investigation gets to be too much for you, just tell me and I’ll send you on the next flight back home.” 

You snort tiredly. “Too much for me? Jotaro you look exhausted… You haven’t been taking breaks from the case at all…  You’re always so anxious. Do you promise you’ll actually go to bed this time?” 

Jotaro looked down at you and moved his hands from you, sighing heavily. “Yeah… I promise…” 

You give him a shy smile before shrugging. “Besides… you need me, don’t you? Weren’t you the one that said I’m the only one that calms you down?” 

Jotaro gulped and broke eye contact with you, his own silent way of admitting that you were right. You chuckled and opened the door to your hotel room, giving him one last look and goodnight before you left to go to bed. You would wake up about two hours later from the sound of your partner’s shuffling about in his room next door. You slipped on a thick crew neck over your thin tank top and shorts and open to the door connecting to the two rooms. 

You peaked your head past the door to find a familiar sight before you. Pictures were tacked onto a corkscrew board, red thread connecting the dots to draw the group one step closer to solving the crimes. Files were splayed out over the desk, a map of the small Japanese town resting on the nearby bed, etched with red Xs displaying the sites where several young men and women met their demise. Amongst the mess, you found the broad shoulders of a tired Jotaro Kujo hunched over the desk, the young man still looking at the mountains of documents, eager to find the path to justice. It was hidden in those pages, he was sure of it. It had been your third night together in that hotel, and it was evident that you two would be there for much longer.  

---

“Miss (L/N) it says here that you have received your degree in zoology and graduated at the top of your major.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it says here that you recently led an academic study of marine biology that went very well back home.”

“Yes sir, and it would be an honor to join this esteemed team of scientists here at SPW.”

It was the year 1998, and you were interviewing to work at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had graduated atop your class, and had a passion for your work that few possessed, as well success that few could show for. You prayed that this interview was going well. The Foundation was the utmost important center of scientific research in the world and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to work there. You watched the smile on your interviewer’s face as he reviewed your credentials before setting the paper down. 

“Miss (L/N) I’d like to welcome you aboard our team. I believe you will contribute much to our efforts.”

Your face lit up in excitement and you rushed to shake his hand. “Thank you so much sir, I won’t let you down! If I could ask what position you’re hiring me for?”  

“You see we have an opening for an assistant with the Kujo lab. Since you’re just starting off here- you’ll be assisting him in meetings and in bench work-”

“Excuse me... the Kujo lab? As in Jotaro Kujo? Isn’t he my age?” You interrupt nervously. 

“Why yes miss… is there an issue?”

“Well no sir it’s just… I thought perhaps I’d be working under an esteemed professor… I didn’t think someone fresh out of grad school would already have a lab to himself… Not to sound ungrateful of course, I just didn’t realize I would be working under one of my contemporaries…” 

A sigh came to the man and leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to explain the situation. 

“Miss (y/n), the reason I’m placing you in Kujo’s lab is that I feel the two of you would work well together, given your similar backgrounds and parallel personalities…” You furrow your brow, unsure what the supervisor meant until you were face to face with Jotaro Kujo himself a few days later. 

You still remembered the day well. You hung your coat up on a nearby hook and looked about the lab. Documents were piled over every available surface with no particular organization. A large fish tank stood in the far corner, a wild variety of fish encased within. Anatomical posters of aquatic life were all over the walls, and right by the window sat Jotaro. He hadn’t looked up when you came in. Approaching his desk, you stared down at the mass of black hair on the top of his head. Soon clearing your throat, the young doctoral student’s head shot up to look at you blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, taken aback by his unemotional expression, nervously turning to a notebook you had on hand.

“Uh… um… My name is (y/n) (l/n), your new coworker. I would like to thank you for allowing me into your lab. I had been going over your most recent papers on the social patterns of starfish on the eastern-most coast of Japan and I was just wondering if-”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” 

You looked up from your notes and into the young man’s deep blue eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You struggled to form a sentence under the intense gaze, your breath shuttering out from your lips, and you looked back down at your notes. 

“I’m (y/n) (l/n)... your new coworker.” 

Jotaro nodded slowly, considering what you had just said. You watched as he removed his large white overcoat and leaned back in his chair, donned in a fitted black t-shirt. 

“Why did they hire you?” You lean forward confused, your ear facing him. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Why did they hire you?” 

You look away for a moment, considering his now nervous expression, his nervous tick of chewing on his lip, his small twitches of the eye, his clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You looked down, finding his leg bouncing anxiously against the floor. A small, sweet smile came to you, and you opened your mouth to speak, alerting his attention. 

“You and I apparently have parallel personalities… according to them.”

You watched as Jotaro’s lips curved into a shy smile and he got up from his seat, grabbing a notepad from a nearby drawer. He then turned to you and extended his arm out, pointing. You followed the direction of his hand and saw a separate desk facing his at the other end of the office. You turned back and quickly nodded, rushing to set your things down and then turning to face him once more. 

Jotaro nodded courteously at you. “Have you read my most recent work?” 

“Yes, I just told you that I did that-”

“Good. Come to the meeting with me then.”

You followed after him into a nearby boardroom, unsure of the situation about to befall you. The meeting began. Executives discussed their most recent funding prospects, deciding whether or not to continue their spending, depending on how successful the trials had been. You sat patiently in your chair, listening to the others argue frankly amongst themselves. A steady, fast tapping upon the table commanded your attention and you turned over to see Jotaro staring off into the distance, his fingers rapidly tapping on the desk, his whole form shaking with sensory overload. 

“Mr. Kujo? And you?” You watched as Jotaro’s head shot up and he looked around the room. He hadn’t been listening, his mind had been too overcome with anxieties. 

“I um… I uh… W-what were-” 

You watched nervously as this man came undone at his seams. You cleared your throat and tapped the table next to his notepad. Getting the message, Jotaro grabbed the notepad quickly and anxiously flipped through its pages. 

“Um… sorry about that. I would like to further my research- wait no this is on the wrong page. Wait no it’s not… wait-” 

You looked around as the listeners began to get frustrated, looking at each other in jest of one of their top researchers. You chewed nervously on your finger, hoping Jotaro would pull himself together. It was your first day working with him, and it was already troublesome.

“I would like to further the research done in my penultimate paper. Or was it my most recent...”

“Mr. Kujo, we would have liked for you to have prepared for this meeting…” 

“No no… I did. I did. Wait-”

With a quick motion, you reached over and placed a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder, calmly taking the notepad from him and then turning to the group. Jotaro looked away, still visibly shaken. 

“Mr. Kujo clearly states in his most recent paper that he plans to continue his research, at a different coastal region, comparing more behaviors there to make sure that this past successful trial wasn’t any sort of spontaneous fluke. He writes in his goals of perhaps inspecting the regional colonies of starfish around S-Town… Following that, he plans to remain in contact with the genomic department and track genetic similarities between human and aquatic life that may explain the similar social patterns between the two.” 

You explain to them all, having memorized the paper. Turning to the notepad, you saw what Jotaro had written in preparation for the meeting. You then turned back to the investors.

“Mr. Kujo kindly asks that you aid him in his funding so that mankind as a whole may find a better understanding of the natural world… That’s all he wanted to say. He just couldn’t find the right page. Sir.”

You reached back and placed the notepad back near Jotaro’s shaking hand. You returned your hand back to the other’s shoulder, squeezing gently to reassure the scientist that he was alright. The young man turned to you in a bit of surprise, not expecting your presence to calm him oh so much. The executives all took in your words and the head of the meeting slowly nodded. 

“Well… thank you for your assistance, miss…?” 

“(l/n).”

“Right well thank you… We will consider Mr. Kujo’s work for a second trial.”

“Thank you. He appreciates it.” With that, you let go of Jotaro’s shoulder.

The meeting soon adjourned, You got up to leave your seat when you felt Jotaro’s hand grab your shoulder. You turned around to see him slowly stand up from his chair. 

“Thank you. I’m not a big fan of speaking to them…”

You nodded quickly. “Yes…  of course…”

From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Having experienced the horrific acts done to him and to those he loved back in his teenage years, Jotaro was convinced that you were the only one who could calm his constant nerves and anxieties. You became his most powerful tool against the outside world. You understood his work perfectly, understood his mannerisms perfectly, and respected his need for silence in the office. You knew how to say things the way he would himself, and you had no fear discussing them to other people. The two of you became much closer over the months of your working. Jotaro became much less of an enigma in your eyes. It would be a few months until Jotaro would unwillingly reveal his more “secret” projects. 

The first time you saw the arrow, Jotaro did not want you to see it. But still, what happened that day would forever change your relationship with the young scientist. You had arrived early, hoping to surprise him with a hot breakfast and a smile. You turn the corner to walk into the lab, yet when you go to open the door, you find it locked. Strange. Looking inside the room, you find Jotaro hunched over his desk in focus, in the same clothes as the day before, having not yet unlocked the door. Even more strange. You knocked on the door, only for him to leave the room with another door in a hurry, ignoring your pleas. With a grumble, you dug for your keys, figuring his weird behavior was just fatigue, and that he probably slept over at work again.  When you finally get into the lab, you place your things down, and that's when you see it lingering underneath his desk in a rushed hiding spot. 

Encased within a thickly walled wooden box, an arrow remained, barely hidden from your gaze, as Jotaro had had no time to hide it from you. The latch was undone, another sign that Jotaro had run away from the scene.

Jerk. Didn’t he trust you enough to show you something like this? It’s just a bow and arrow! Why was he hiding it? You called out for him to return to the room and explain what the bow and arrow was for. Hearing no response, you turned back to the wooden box, reaching your hand in to inspect the bow and arrow. 

It all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye. 

There were no in-between movements. One moment you had pricked your finger on the razor sharp tip of the arrow, the next moment you were standing up, the box had been tightly locked, and Jotaro stood right in front of you, chest to chest, intensely staring you down. Your breath became ragged as you maintained eye contact with him. What just happened? You didn’t even hear him come in. The box was right before your very eyes, and you didn’t even see that it was locked. How did he even turn you around without you knowing?! A chill went down your spine as you hesitated to speak even a word to the man before you. 

“Do you see what was in there?”

 Jotaro asked you calmly. You felt a cold sweat form on your forehead. Jotaro, ever the impatient man, grabbed your jacket collar, shaking you out of your scared daze. 

“I’m asking you now (y/n)! Did you see what was in there?!” 

“No, I didn’t see anything! I don’t know what just happened! I swear! I saw you run away from the room and went to see what was in there and the next thing I knew you had come back and it was all so fast and I don’t understand and I-... Jotaro… you’re scaring me.” 

Your body convulsed at his rough contact, your hands reaching up to push him away, but his tight grip on your jacket remained steadfast. Pure instinct had compelled you to lie to him about seeing the content of the box, but the terror and confusion you had displayed was genuine. You still didn’t understand how he was able to move that fast, or affect you with you even knowing. Just who was this man?

Jotaro stared down at you for a moment longer, before releasing you from his grip and taking a few steps back. You stumbled back, grabbing the edge of his desk to stabilize your fall. Your heart continued to race in your chest as you heaved, still struggling to make sense of what just happened. 

Jotaro silently called out Star Platinum, having his stand hover right in front of you as you kept staring at him in confusion. Your expression didn’t change once he called out his stand. So you were telling the truth. You really hadn’t seen the arrow. Or at least, hadn’t touched it.

Jotaro sighed, rubbing the side of his head with a groan. He hadn’t stopped time in so long, but it seemed he was worried over nothing. “I’m sorry to frighten you, (y/n).” 

You finally straightened yourself out, gulping. “Who the hell are you? Really?!” 

“...I’m Jotaro Kujo. That is all.” 

Another chill ran down up your spine, but you played it off. If he wanted to continue things as per usual, you’d have to do the same. 

“Right… I brought breakfast. And there’s a morning meeting in half an hour so freshen up.” 

You walked past him to retrieve the food you had bought for them. Looking down to pick it up, you noticed a red blood stain on your jacket. It must have been from your bleeding finger when you’d pricked it on the arrow. However, when you turned to look at the finger itself, you found that it was fully healed, not even scarred, even after such a precise and direct cut. Jotaro politely asked you for the food, claiming hunger, and you rushed to take your coat off and hide it away. You got the sense that he’d question further if he saw the fresh blood stain. 

After that fateful morning, things continued on as per usual. You still had your questions, but after a few weeks had passed without another incident, you resolved that whatever that bow and arrow were must have been top secret for the Speedwagon Foundation. You figured no company could be as powerful as they were without keeping a few secrets. And this was one of them. 

So you resolved to ask no questions about that one day. The same way you didn’t put up much of a fight when, in the summer of 1999, after months of you two planning to stay there together, Jotaro told you that he would be going to Morioh alone to research for his PhD, without you. You were furious, enraged how the two of you could become so close since you began working there, yet he still didn’t trust you to go with him. You argued with him the night before he was set to leave, but his resolve never crumbled. You weren’t going to Morioh, that was final. 

In the three months that he was gone, Jotaro regularly sent you his findings, and you sorted them back at Speedwagon Headquarters. When he finally came back, more visibly shaken than he was before, you could only wonder what the coworker you had grown so attached to had experienced in Morioh in the summer of 1999. 

Circling back to the present day, it was the winter of 2000, and there was yet again a dark force afoot in the town of Morioh. Only this time, Jotaro would not go alone. 

“You have to let me come with you this time.” 

“Explain why. Explain why I have to let you come with me this time. I did just fine on my own before.” 

You gritted your teeth at the other’s stubbornness. “Will you please just listen to me? Jotaro when you came back from Morioh, you were even harder to deal with than before! Any sound in the office set you on edge and you screamed when someone set off fireworks near our building! And you still haven’t explained to me what happened there! Now let me come with you! I can help!”

Jotaro turned his attention away from his work, finally looking at you for the first time in that conversation. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become, how much you meant to him. You were his ticket into communicating with the world to his fullest, and after recalling several confusing conversations with Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi, Jotaro realized he actually needed you in order to articulate himself to the others without getting too anxious or angry. 

“Alright fine. We’re leaving tomorrow at 2. You better be ready.” 

But nothing could have prepared you for the horrors you were about to encounter in that small town. To your shock and disgust, you learned that aside from his research, Jotaro was investigating a murderer. And then you met Josuke and the others. That was when you first felt that you were going crazy. When you saw glimpses of third arms extend out from these teenagers, saw one of them heal a broken leg with ease, saw another erase space itself. People all over this small town were vanishing in thin air, and the incidents were happening more and more frequently. It didn’t make any sense, but no one was commenting on it, so you felt you were just imagining things. The same way you must have imagined Jotaro moving at lightspeed that morning you pricked your finger on the arrow. 

Finally, we return to the current scene of Jotaro hunched over his desk, his room in the Morioh Grand Hotel littered with documents, the board nearby covered in photos and string, the bedside clock reading 2:33 am.  You approached him carefully in the tense silence, knowing not to startle him whenever he was in deep thought. 

“...Jotaro-”

“Dammit dammit dammit! I’m sick of it! Where the hell is he?!” 

Jotaro slammed his fist down on the desk, his chest heaving in frustration. Why did this keep happening to him?! He just wanted to live a normal life, and he thought after Kira, he could. But like so many times before, Jotaro Kujo was wrong. Perhaps it was his destiny to be unfortunate. Perhaps there would always be another person stabbed by the arrow that would have it out for him and the others. Perhaps he was always destined to have a target on his back. Jotaro turned around to see you there, your form shaken from his sudden outburst. You’d never seen him that angry before. He met your gaze, unaware that you were sensing a vague presence of a being just above the man’s shoulder. 

He sighed, walking over to you. “I’m sorry to scare you (y/n). I’m just getting frustrated by all this.”

You hesitated to speak for a moment, flinching when Jotaro placed his hand on your shoulder. You look up at him with a glare.  “Tell what you haven’t been telling me.” 

“You’ve been with me in Morioh this whole time (y/n). We both know the same things about this case I-”

You shoved Jotaro back, the surprised scientist bumping into his desk. “Don’t play dumb with me Jotaro! There’s something you’re not telling me! Do you think I’m an idiot?! Do you think I can’t handle it?! Tell me why you and a bunch of fucking kids have to be the ones taking down a killer?! Why can’t you just leave it to the police like a normal person?! Just say it! I…  I can help you!” 

But Jotaro couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand his world and the horrifying stands contained within it. He had to keep you safe. The moment you find out anything more will be the moment you die. 

“No… I can’t tell you (y/n).” 

“But that’s not fair I-”

“(y/n), I’m sorry, but if you ask me again, I’ll be forced to send you back home and have you fired from my lab. Try to understand me, I’m doing this for your own safety, but I can’t have you be near me if you don’t cooperate.” 

You stood there in shock. Would he really do that? Didn’t he know how much working for him at the Foundation meant to you? How much care that you put in for him and his work? And he’d throw all that away just to protect some stupid secret!? Who did he think he was?!

Your whole body began to quiver in rage at the other’s behavior. Just when you thought there was something between the two of you, something more than just a young professor and his assistant, he makes it clear that you mean nothing to him, and you never have. You watched the man before you, turn away from your gaze to focus back to his work. With a huff, you reach for the door to leave, your hand touching the handle. 

Then, it all went white. 

Your hand touched the handle, feeling the metal scalding to the touch. Before you could flinch back and yelp at the pain, a hand circled around your neck and another crept around your waist, the grip keeping you flush against another body. You look around the room, watching the color and furniture dissolve from your view until all you could see for miles was a white void. The only thing you could feel was the man with a locked grip on your neck, blocking your airway. You kicked to set yourself free, until you felt a ghostly presence cling onto your legs to hold them together. That same feeling washed over your wrists to bind them as well. The man holding onto you within the void leaned down to bring his mouth to your ear.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

Your whole body shuddered at the deep growl in his throat. “W-who are you?! What do you wan-”

“I’m the one talking (y/n)!”

With that, his hold on your neck tightened ever more. How could he have known your name? You all had made a point to only use names in private in case the murderer was lurking around. So that means… A pang of realization hit you. He’d been hiding in this hotel room, listening to you and Jotaro was however long. Black spots appeared before you in your line of sight, your head was feeling lighter and lighter. You were becoming weightless. 

“In the split second that a human being first feels pain, that is when they are at their most isolated. At the first sign of pain, it’s every man for himself. When a man is shot, in the first moment he feels pain, he isn’t thinking of the man next to him that got shot in the brain. He’s thinking only of himself. The fight or flight response is activated, all other surroundings become useless. That selfishness, that hunger to be healed, that desire for self preservation, is what fuels Foreigner’s God, my stand!” 

Your eyes shot open at the last word. “A...stand?” You choked out.

“My stand, Foreigner's God, extends that initial moment of selfishness that comes with pain. No longer are there distractions that can bring someone back to care for others. No longer are there healers that can take that pain away. Your hand is still burnt from the handle that I heated up, so…”

He turned you both around and you saw through your hazy view, a body appear in the white void. It was Jotaro, the man frantically calling out your name and rushing between his room and yours in a search for you. At one moment, the two of you even seemingly made eye contact, and you saw the absolute fear in his eyes at the realization that he might have just lost you. Your mouth quirked up in a smile, and tears began to form in your eyes. 

Jotaro took a step closer, maintaining your gaze, and you felt relief in your heart that he could really see you. Until suddenly, he rushed to the night stand, fazing right through you and your assailant, not even noticing your presence in the room. You struggled to shout under the choking pressure as you saw him panic, reaching to the phone to call Josuke.

“Wait! Jotaro! I’m right here ah-”

“Didn’t I tell you (y/n)! At that critical moment of pain, it’s every man for himself! It’s just you and me in here! You’re in my world now, sweetheart. I allowed you to see Jotaro’s image, but he cannot see or hear you!” 

The killer turned your head to the side, ready to snap. But he had to wait, for his stand would deactivate the moment you were killed, and then he’d be left vulnerable to a furious Jotaro in that hotel room. He needed information about his opponents’ abilities, and Jotaro was playing right into his hands by calling his friend. 

“That’s it… That’s it Kujo! Call Josuke Higashikata! Call him! CALL HIM!”

You trembled under the rough grip, struggling to call out for Jotaro, hoping he wouldn’t call anyone and reveal any secrets. 

And then amidst the silence, the click of Jotaro hanging up the phone filled your ears. You watched the look of reflection on his face. Somehow, maybe it was because of years of battle with monsters just like this man, but Jotaro Kujo realized that you hadn’t run away. Someone was keeping you from him. And he was now more alert than ever. 

“Shit! He’s smarter than I thought! He must suspect there’s a stand attack going on.” 

The murderer grumbled before dropping you to the ground. He couldn’t kill you, not without proper info on how to defeat Jotaro and the others. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. With a sharp kick to the back, the assailant managed to knock you away, breaking bones in your spine and leaving you immobile. Recalling his stand ability, the murderer managed to escape out a window without a trace, figuring you would lose consciousness. With a gentle thud, you toppled to the ground, right next to the open window. 

“(y/n)!” 

Jotaro rushed to the sound, seeing you lay there, gasping for breath. He turned to the open window seeing no one around. He had disappeared. And right under his nose too. How long had the man been in the room with them?! How dumb could he have been?! Reaching up to Jotaro, you muttered that the man had broken a few bones in your back and that you couldn’t move. 

“I’m sorry Jotaro. I didn’t get a good look at his face…” 

“Don’t worry about that! I’ll get help right away!” 

You looked up with hazy eyes as Jotaro rushed to the phone to call Josuke. After everything between the two of you, after everything he’s said to you, it was surprising to see just how much he truly cared about you. Holding the phone to his ear, Jotaro frantically told Josuke your condition and for him to get over here as soon as possible. Glancing down at your arm, Jotaro’s eyes shot open at the black ink that painted your skin just a few centimeters beneath your wrist. In all caps, as if the murderer was playing with you all, the ink wrote, 

“Foreigner’s God - AS.”  

- - - - - 

“Honestly Mr. Joestar, where does that grandson of yours get off running me and the others ragged like this? He sees one person with the initials A.S. in a phonebook and he sends me out across down to read them with Heaven’s Door.” 

Rohan Kishibe sat drinking his tea, absently working on Pink Dark Boy, waiting for Jotaro’s next move. His companion, Joseph Joestar, took a sip of his drink at Rohan’s rude accusation. 

“Hush now Rohan. We all put Jotaro in charge of his operation, given his connection to our main victim. All he’s doing is using your stand to its full capabilities.” 

The old man raised an eyebrow and Rohan got the hint. Mr. Joestar was the only one of the group that the snarky artist fully respected, so he would follow the seasoned stand user’s lead. 

A heavy set of footsteps entered the room, followed by a more uneven pair lingering behind. The two stand users looked up to see you and Jotaro enter. You were looking better since the attack. Josuke had healed your back of the broken bones, but the bruises and intense pain of walking remained. Moving with crutches, you slowly stepped out from behind Jotaro as the two of you entered the room. Jotaro, his face darkened in a mixture of unhealthy fatigue and intense bloodlust, approached Rohan’s table and slammed down a stack of papers. 

“Names, addresses, ages, and criminal histories. All here. I want you done with it within the next two days.” 

Rohan grumbled, standing up. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that Jotaro. Not even a hello, not even an acknowledgment of your grandfather. He’s the only reason I’m letting you push me around like this you-” 

Jotaro took one step closer to Rohan, staring the smaller man down in silence. A chill went down the artist’s spine. Shown plainly in the scientist’s eyes was a haze of dark intent, of evil desires. He wanted this person dead, and for them to suffer. Joseph flicked his gaze up at his grandson, recognizing the expression from the other’s climactic fight with DIO. A tinge of worry filled the old soul. 

They needed to catch him, and catch him soon. 

“Jotaro, come on. We told Josuke and the others we would give them an update soon.” 

At the sound of your voice, raspy still from the attack, Jotaro’s face softened into its usual composure. He turned around to face you, and you gave him a tired smile. 

“Right, let’s go. Rohan. Two days, please. I’m counting on you.” 

Tipping his hat over his eyes, Jotaro held out an arm for you as you both walked to the rendez-vous point to meet with Josuke. 

Rohan still felt lost in the other’s murderous expression. It had been three days since your run in with Foreigner’s God, and Heaven’s Door’s user was one of the first to arrive at the scene in order to search for clues. He remembered reading a page drawn from your unconscious body; you had blacked out soon after Jotaro made the call for help. Josuke was working on your spine, and there was a tense silence about the room. A silence soon interrupted by the crash of wood hitting the floor. Everyone looked up, seeing Jotaro standing deathly still in his spot, meanwhile Star Platinum had escaped and had thrown the table over and smashed it into the floor. The rampaging stand turned to the board and knocked it over with a fierce punch, wood scraps and documents flying everywhere. 

“Hey Jotaro stop it! We need those!” 

Josuke yelled, drawing out Crazy diamond to hold Star back. In his blinded rage, the stand took a mindless swing, punching Crazy Diamond in the jaw and sending both him and Josuke flying into the opposite wall. 

“Josuke!” 

Koichi and Okuyasu rushed to their friend. He wasn’t injured too badly, surprisingly no bones broken; nothing a bandage or two couldn’t fix. The four of them, the three teenagers and the artist all turned to Jotaro in shock, who by this point had absorbed Star Platinum into his being. Turning back to face them all, they all got a look at it. 

The truly furious face of Jotaro Kujo. 

The calm and collected scientist now wore the face of violence, a face he hadn’t worn since Egypt. His eyes shone bright with a horrifying lust for vengeance. Those eyes looked away from the frightened stand users, towards your unconscious body. Without a word, Jotaro left the room, and the others let out a shaky breath in the tense air. Those eyes. It had been three days and those eyes were still ever present. Rohan shook away his discomfort and waved goodbye to Mr. Joestar, understanding now. 

Jotaro was not in this for justice. If Kira had hurt only you those months ago, Jotaro would have worn the same face. You were the key to Jotaro’s psyche and wellbeing. That was a fundamental truth about Jotaro Kujo. It was that day that Rohan Kishibe learned another fundamental truth. 

Sometimes, the universe places an answer in your hands when you need an answer the most. 

Half an hour later, it happened. It was in the middle of a secluded street, inhabited by only three people at that moment. A man. A woman. And the young artist, who had been so enraptured by his goal of locating the first name of his list that he barely had the time to react when it happened. And when it did, it only took an instant. 

The man in front of him quickly drew out a pocket knife from his jacket, driving its blade into the woman’s shoulder, unaware Rohan was behind him seeing the act in its entirety. Before the woman had any time to scream in pain, the pair vanished into thin air before the artist’s very eyes, and into the man’s stand realm. Rohan held his breath, frightened at the pair’s sudden disappearance. A stand user. It must have been. Was this him? Reaching quickly into his bag, Rohan Kishibe phoned his first line of defense.

You had been sitting with Jotaro and all of the Morioh teenagers when Jotaro received his call from Rohan.  

“What is it?” 

“I found someone. It’s either him or another one Jotaro.” 

Jotaro shot up from his chair, eyes blown out in stress. “Are you sure?! How do you know?!” 

Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi all grew the same expression of fighting spirit on their faces and you were sure danger was ahead for you all. 

Rohan tried to remain calm. “I’m not sure… Come over here with the others. We have a better chance of taking down whoever this is together. I’m by Owsen, two streets over…” 

Inside Foreigner’s God’s realm, the man  grabbed on tighter to the struggling woman’s neck as she gasped for air. 

“Please, please don’t kill me! Please don’t k-kill me!” 

But the man was hardly paying attention to her cries. He had brought a vision of Rohan into the void and was watching the artist’s movement’s while still strangling the woman as she writhed in pain. 

He didn’t like what he was hearing. With a grunt, the man turned the woman around to face Rohan’s vision, his hand still tight around her neck. 

She whimpered at the sudden motion, tears streaming down her face, meanwhile he stared boredly at Rohan talking on the phone with Jotaro and the others. 

“Hey bitch, who is that?” 

The woman just kept crying.  “Please don’t kill me!” 

Gritting his teeth, the man smacked her upside the head and tightened his grip around her neck. “Tell me who that is!” 

Her vision hazy, the woman took a good look at the eccentrically dressed man. “I-I think th-that’s Rohan Kishibe. A famous manga artist…”  She sputtered out. 

The man’s eyes widened. Rohan Kishibe. He was at the scene of Kira’s death. Could he be another of them? 

A fit of laughter took over him and he cackled, his jubilation mixing uncomfortably with the woman’s struggle for her life. Continuing to holler, the man dropped the woman to the ground and she remained there, coughing to catch her breath. 

“Oh that’s great! I’ve heard he’s good too! You ever read any of his stuff?!” 

She looked up at him confused, watching his face twist in excitement as he realized that he, a lowly stand user, was about to kill a man that helped take down the mighty Yoshikage Kira. Staring down at the ground, she shuddered at the sound of the maniac’s voice.

“Hey.”

A chill went down the woman’s spine. Suddenly, the man wasn’t laughing anymore. She turned her head to find a way to escape, seeing nothing but white everywhere. Why couldn’t anyone see what he was doing to her?! The man on the street with them, Rohan, why wasn’t he stepping in? It’s like they weren’t the real world at that moment. 

“...I asked you a question.” 

Tears filled her eyes again as she met his bored gaze. “W-what?” 

Drawing closer to her weak form, and kneeling down on the ground, the man before her grabbed a fistful of her hair and she screamed at the sudden jerking pain.

“I’m asking if you’ve ever read any of his stuff!” 

The woman felt a crushing pain in her chest, as if a mysterious force was stepping on her. 

“N-no! I haven’t! But please don’t k-”

“Hmph.” 

In a split second, the stand’s hands came around the woman’s neck and snapped it, and Foreigner’s God’s ability ceased. The man quickly his himself out of sight, seeing Rohan standing alone in the street. 

Rohan turned around at the thud of a body hitting the ground behind him. He looked over to see the dead woman, her eyes blown out and a thick ring of bruises around her neck. Just like what you had gone through. And there it was, the same tag that had been on your body after your attack.

 “Foreigner’s God. - AS. ” 

Bringing his phone shakily to his ear, Rohan muttered, “It’s him Jotaro. He’s just killed someone else. Get over here now!” 

Jotaro felt the same dark intent sweep over him as he heard Rohan speak those words. “Do you see him?” 

“No. He hid himself somehow. He’s nearby I bet. Waiting to get me… Come soon. I’m hanging up.” With that, the artist turned his phone off, staying on guard for any attackers. 

Jotaro hung up the phone call with Rohan and turned to the others to come with him. You stood up as well to head to the scene when you felt Jotaro’s hand roughly shove you down into your seat. 

“No.” He ordered plainly. 

“No?! You expect me to be useless again?! I’m the one he attacked first! I wanna see him go down and I wanna help do it!”

“I’m not having you go over there! You can’t get hurt again!” 

You stared up at him, shocked at the concern plastered all over his face. But still, you were stubborn. That’s one of the things he loved about you. 

“What about you?! What makes you sure you won’t get hurt?! Or even die Jotaro?!” 

“I’d rather that than you die (y/n)! The world needs you more than it will ever need me! And I can’t watch someone I love get hurt right in front of me again!” 

You stood there frozen, your legs feeling like they were about to give out at those word.

“...What?” 

Jotaro felt a hand grip his shoulder, turning to see Josuke motion for him to get going. They needed to catch this guy. And fast. Giving a quick glance to your shaken form, he knew you understood why you needed to stay behind. 

You did, of course, know him and his words better than anyone else on Earth. 

Jotaro began running with the others towards the scene and when he was a few feet away, you heard Koichi ask your beloved lab partner if he had any idea what kind of stand they were dealing with. 

Your mind flooded back to the words that man had spoken to you. A stand. That was the word he kept using. A stand. AS. Those were the initials of the man that nearly strangled you to death. Foreigner’s God. He said that was the name of his stand. A stand. Stand.

Your mind kept repeating that same word over and over again in your head as you stood there in the crowded Morioh street. All of these people. The people you had come to love. Josuke and the others. The strange lives they lived. Jotaro. The strange life he had drawn you into. They were all working to save the thousands of people that lived in this small Japanese town. 

You thought back on all they had said, all that you had overheard over the course of the investigation. Things you didn’t understand now flooded your mind. They spoke about the first trip, the killer. Killer. A man named Kira. Killer Queen. Killer Queen must have been his stand. A stand. Is that why you think you’ve been going crazy? Are those third arms stands? ...Did Jotaro have one? 

“Gimme… gimme… gimme… GIMME!”

Your whole form awoke from your deep train of thought at the sound of someone calling out to you.  You turned around, looking at all the people that were walking nearby. No one was even looking at you. You sighed. You supposed this town really was driving you crazy. You reached for your crutches and took one step forward- 

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!”

The loud voice rang violently in your head and you fell to your knees from the shock. Covering your ears, you foolishly tried to block out the sound. Your whole body began to feel weak, your whole being heating up. It felt like your blood was boiling, your muscles were tensing, an unwanted rage consuming every cell in your form. 

“What’s going on?! What’s happening to m-”

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Who are you?! What’s going on?!” You thought to yourself, panicking. What was this voice?!

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” You muttered under your breath as you knelt on the pavement.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” Your voice subconsciously raised, drawing others’ attention. 

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“GO AWAY!”  You let a shrill yell, grabbing violently at your hair in terror, causing a crowd of people to form around you. 

And then the voice stopped, a quiet renewing in your head. You sat there, gasping for air, your throat still burning from the attack days before, and your screaming had not helped it. You looked up at everyone staring up at you in shocked worry. In a calm daze, you stood up, grabbing your crutches and began to walk away from the others. 

Jotaro. Jotaro would know what it means. What that voice was. 

- - - - - 

Arata Sone had been Yoshikage Kira’s only friend as long as the killer had been alive. He was the only person in the world that Kira confided in. He remembered the night he met the blond murderer. One evening, the normal man came home from a very late night at work to a silent home, his wife sleeping upstairs. With a heavy sigh, Sone was about to enter his bedroom when he heard his wife let out a sudden shriek, before the sound immediately ceased into a renewed silence. Panicked, the man swung the door open to find another man about his age, standing in the middle of the room, a dismembered hand in his grasp. The hand was dripping blood onto the carpet, and Sone’s wife was nowhere to be found. Putting two and two together, the man felt a chill slither up his whole body. He remained stuck in his spot as he watched the blond man draw closer to him. Then something strange happened. Arata Sone knew that he should be afraid, knew that he should be begging for his life, knew that the proper thing to do was flee. But what he did shocked both himself and the murderer before him. 

Arata Sone laughed harder than he ever had before. 

Cackling loudly to an unsettling degree, he even managed to throw the calm and collected Yoshikage Kira off guard. After several minutes, the laughter died down and the man looked at the other before him with a wide smile on his face.

“Thank you.” 

For the first time in a long time, Kira felt a shudder rush through his body. 

“Thank you?” 

“I was waiting for a good moment to kill her myself.” 

In that moment, both men felt one of the great pleasures of life, a pleasure that can only come from being shunned for one’s desires for so long, and then to finally have that desire recognized by another being. The two men called out their stands and both fell into fits of laughter and joy at their shared murderous trait. A new friendship had been born.

A few years later, Arata Sone saw on the news the gruesome image of his beloved friend’s face crushed beneath an ambulance. Seeing what he could only guess were other stand users at the scene, his ever present lust for murder grew within him to a boiling point. Foreigner’s God’s user made a promise to himself. To kill those who had killed his friend. 

And today was the day to make that happen. The killer watched from his hiding spot as Jotaro and the others ran to the scene to see a very shaken Rohan Kishibe, who was wondering why the killer had yet to show himself. What none of them knew, was that their attacker had grown as a stand user. He was about to apply what his dear friend Kira had once taught him, and was merely hiding to get them all in one place. 

Sone waited for the group to get within his stand’s range.

You slowly made your way on your crutches towards the scene. You needed to know these answers. 

“Just a little farther…” He thought as he waited for Jotaro and the others to be within his grasp. 

“Just a little farther…” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner, two streets away from Owsen. An ominous feeling crept over you, making you feel sick to your stomach. 

Finally, they were all together within his stand’s range. Arata Sone waited for the right moment, a sick smile on his face.

Jotaro went to speak. “Any sign of h-”

And then the attack was sent into motion. In that split second, each of Morioh’s fighters looked down to see a small mass of white matter form around their ankle. With the snap of his fingers, the matter exploded, taking a chunk off each person’s leg with it. Jotaro, Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu and Rohan all collapsed to the ground as the street became consumed in a white void the moment they all felt that same sting of pain.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

They all looked up from writhing in pain as the man they had been hunting down showed himself, the twisted smile on his face more present than before. 

“When a man feels he is at his most cornered, that is often when the most opportunities arise for him. My st-”

In a flash, Jotaro lunged forward, landing a punch to Sone’s face. The smile went away.

“I suppose I’ll take your hand next.” He grunted, grabbing Jotaro’s arm and slamming his whole body to the ground. The moment his hand made contact with the ground, another white mass formed around Jotaro’s finger and exploded, and Star Platinum’s user once again hollered in pain.

“Jotaro!” 

The other Morioh fighters called out to their injured friend and all of them got up to attack their enemy together. The moment they took another step, white matter formed once more around their feet and exploded again. The five of them were squirming on the ground in pain once again. 

“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Jotaro Kujo. My stand feeds on that first moment of selfish pain and extends it, trapping others in a blank void without distraction from their pain. It’s a terrifying ability when used properly, though I will admit, back when I attacked your little friend, I wouldn’t have been able to take you all on at once, and that’s the only reason I spared her life…” 

He looked down to see Jotaro’s face overcome with rage at your mention. It was a fruitless effort, but Jotaro lunged at his enemy again, only to be knocked on his back. The moment his body touched the ground, several bubbles of the same white substance engulfed the scientist’s back and exploded, leaving bleeding indents all over the tall man’s frame and causing him to gasp at the pain. 

“But you see. I have grown as a stand user. You may remember from the tag on your beloved friend’s arm the words Foreigner’s God. Well that my friends, is the name of my stand. Or no… this is something different. A new ability that I’ve learned. A swan song to my dear friend, Yoshikage Kira!” 

Their eyes shot open at the mention of that hardly forgotten name. “Kira?” Josuke muttered. 

“Oh right… an old friend of mine. I figured when I would be taking revenge for his death, I would use some of that explosive power of his that I loved so much. You see everyone, normally I would only be able to keep one person at a time in my realm. You can only hurt some many in one instance after all!” 

It was in that moment, Foreigner’s God revealed itself in its humanoid form right beside its user. Lunging forward, the stand attacked the stationary fighters, knocking them all to the ground. At the very second their bodies touched the ground, the same miniature explosions went off, extending their pain and keeping them in the dangerous realm. 

“Gimme gimme gimme…” 

You placed a hand against your ear trying to block out that annoying voice that was seemingly coming out of nowhere. You weren’t far from the scene, your mind still running wild, asking a thousand questions as to what a stand even was, what that voice just then was, who were the others really dealing with, what was this man capable of. You weren’t sure of what you would be able to do, but something within you drew your body closer and closer to the street where your friends were currently writhing in agony. You didn’t care about what Jotaro wasn’t telling you. You didn’t care that there were still questions that needed answered. You just wanted to help, anyway you could figure out how.

Staring down at their battered and bleeding bodies, Arata Sone let out another burst of jubilation amidst the void. 

“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before! If you haven’t already noticed, my once empty void has now been combined with its own type of landmines. You cannot move without a new one setting off, and extending that pain further. You’re going to be stuck in here until you bleed out, with no one to hear you or see you! That is it the secret to my new ability, Arsonist’s Lullaby!” 

With that cry, the stand stormed through the five of them once more, knocking them to the ground once more, causing new land mines to set off, all to the tune of its user’s laugh-filled joy. It was then that white walls of the void were beginning to fade, and the scenery of that Morioh street was starting to fade back into view. 

“Hmm… it appears this ability takes up more of my energy than I thought. I suppose I can’t kill all five of you at once and remain invisible at the same time. No matter, I can’t sense any other stand users around, just the six of us. I don’t care who sees this! I’ll just kill the witnesses after I kill you!” 

It was then that Arata Sone made a fatal mistake, and just like his friend Yoshikage Kira, let his hubris take over. Removing the hiding nature of his stand, but doubling the landmines, the man watched as the five powerful stand users struggled to even get close enough to him to land in a hit. New landmines keep going off, new injuries created. 

They were dangerously close to bleeding out, all in plain sight of another stand user. You. 

You turned the corner to see the carnage ahead of you, finding your whole group in the enemy’s grasp. You couldn’t even tell what you were seeing. The moment one of your friends moved, they would immediately flinch back in agony. Drawing your attention to the man standing over them, a familiar chill went through you. That was the same man that had attacked you days before. And seeing what he was capable of doing to the people you had grown so close to, you were now more scared than ever of him. 

But you noticed something. Amidst the pleasure that this monster was reveling in, there was a distinct look of concentration plastered all over his face. You watched his expression twitch with each time an attack went off on one of your friends. He must be doing something with his mind to attack them. He was focusing. His focus. You needed to capture his focus. 

Steeling yourself for what was to come, you dropped your crutches and took a deep breath in, something in you knowing the dangers you were about to face, and the rest of you stupidly seeming not to care. 

With a small ounce of bravery, you shouted at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! I won’t let you hurt them!” 

Sone turned around at the sudden distraction, surprised that someone was taking notice. His eyebrow raised in intrigue. That could only mean one thing. You were another one. 

Jotaro recognized that voice. No… no no no. Looking up, he saw your frightened body shaking and staring straight into the enemy’s eyes without a way to defend yourself.

“No! (y/n) get out of here! You can’t be here! He’ll kill-” 

The killer turned back around and punched Jotaro straight in the gut with his stand, sending him flying back into a tree. 

“Jotaro!” 

You shrieked. All five of them were dying right in front of you, so close to bleeding out. And now his focus was on you, and it had taken all your courage to simply call out and distract him from the others. You watched as the man drew closer, ready to kill another. The same giant smile came over his face again. 

“(y/n) huh? And here I thought you were a smart person. Smart enough not to beg for me to hurt you again. But sorry, there’s no escape this time!” 

“(y/n) no! Run away! Get out of here!” 

You didn’t have time to register whose voice had called out to you before you saw the attacker lunge right at you. You put your arms up over your face as your body collapsed to its knees, your eyes shut in fear, and a horrified scream uncontrollably left your lungs. 

“Now die!” 

And then, you felt weightless.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME” 

As you felt a massive weight being lifted from your body, your eyes shot open to find someone new standing over you. Actually, you weren’t sure if it was someone new, or something new. This new thing, it didn’t seem real.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME” 

Your face lit up in shock. Attached to this new thing was the same voice that you had been hearing in your head before. You watched as its fists fired off in a flurry of punches, all hitting their marks on the man’s body. You were mesmerized by its appearance. Its body, about the same size as yours, looked as if it were made of glass. Swirling around within that glass was a pool of different colors. Different blues, purples, oranges and pinks flowed together seamlessly, all encased within the glass structure as it pummeled the enemy before you. 

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME… A MAN!” 

With one last, hard punch to the enemy’s chest, the glass figure stopped its attack and turned around to face you. You shuffled back on the ground, your chest heaving in fear from what had just happened. The figure before you, without speaking a word, drew its arm forward to point at Sone, who was now frozen in his spot before you. Then, everyone watched as small ripples began to form over the man’s whole body. All over his arms, legs, and chest, it looks as if the flesh was moving, as if someone had dropped a pebble into a lake. Then the ripples began to glow brightly, the full spectrum of colors radiating out, and tearing their way from the inside of his body outward. The enemy let out a painful shriek as the searing pain overtook him, more and more light spilling out of his body as the flesh around it became torn and melted. Finally, less than a second later, an explosion of white light burst out of the man’s body. And once that flash was gone, so was he. Foreigner’s God had been defeated. And this thing that you could tell was a part of you, it had been the thing to kill him. 

Shakily, you stood up, holding on tightly to your crutches, keeping your gaze on this figure that had erupted out of you. 

“...ABBA?” 

Still confused, all you knew was that something in your body told you to say that name. The figure turned around to face you and gave you a shy smile before coming closer and embracing your shaking form in a hug. Surprised you could even touch it, you wrapped your arms around ABBA as well, finding to your disbelief that the glass like material felt soft and warm to the touch. You looked down its back, eyeing the pattern of jagged lines all over its body, as well as the swirling colors within. You felt your eyes well up with tears. Something about holding onto this being, one not entirely separate from you, felt so right. It felt like it had been welling up inside you for so long, and you couldn’t help but love it now that it was out. 

“A stand…” You muttered. It was all so clear now. Your stand.

After a few moments, ABBA stood up and nodded towards the group of your injured friends. Holding you up, both you and your stand rushed over to Josuke. The teenager’s eyes opened with a pained groan, looking up at you and seeing ABBA at your side. His face lit up in surprise and he tried to sit up before the crushing pain forced him back down onto the ground. He muttered weakly for you to see if Rohan was alright, and you did. 

Suddenly, a small white figure burst out of the artist’s body and punched Josuke in the arm. You watched, intrigued as a section of the teen’s arm unfolded like a book. The white figure leaned in, writing in Josuke’s arm the words, “I currently do not have any injuries.” 

You watched in awe as the bleeding wounds all over Josuke’s body slowly began to close. Within a few minutes, Josuke was up and mobile as ever. He had several questions to ask you, but first, he had some healing to do. You watched as a pink and blue being, you assumed Josuke’s stand, flew out of his body and hovered over all of the other injured, healing them nearly immediately. They all stood up, groaning from the shadows of pain still left behind from the attacks. One by one, each of them looked up at you, each of their faces growing an expression of surprise and adoration. You felt small under their gazes, looking up at your stand standing next to you. As small as you felt, there was something about ABBA that made you feel powerful. Especially considering what it had just done to defeat the enemy. 

“(y/n)... is that your stand…?” 

You looked over at Koichi before quickly nodding. “Yeah… I guess it must be right?” 

You tried to shrug it off with a nervous laugh, but even you were still in awe of this new ability. Finally, you turned to Jotaro, watching his face for a reaction. The gentle giant stood frozen at a loss of words, unsure of what to say. His gaze turned to ABBA, a melancholy look of admiration and love spread over his features. 

“Come on Jotaro… say something. Don’t worry. I’ll understand-” 

You muttered softly before Jotaro rushed forward and cut you off with a tight hug. You rested your smaller body against him, tears of relief streaming down your face, grateful that everyone was still alive. You looked up to gaze into Jotaro’s blue eyes, seeing that he had begun to tear up as well. Then something caught your eye. Looking over the tall man’s shoulder, you saw a purple skinned spirit faze out of your partner’s body and float over to ABBA, starting deeply into your stand’s face. ABBA, who had before been so calm and collected, now shrunk back a little bit with a childish giggle at the sight of the handsome stand before her. As ABBA held her face in her hands, you felt your cheeks flush bright red. Your eyes widened and you pushed Jotaro away from you, turning to your stand. 

“H-hey wait a minute! ABBA, it’s not like that!”

“Gimme?” 

ABBA asked innocently as she grabbed Star Platinum’s hand tightly in her own. Jotaro now felt his face heat up and turn bright red. With a heavy sigh, he watched as his stand wrapped yours in its arms, chuckling a bit at your embarrassment. 

“Sorry about all this. His name’s Star Platinum, and he’s definitely more… emotional than I am.” 

Your eyes widened at what that could possibly mean. Wait… did they think that you and Jotaro were… 

“W-wait it’s not like that! He and I are just… “

“Gimme?” 

“No! W-well I mean I care about him but I-”

“(y/n).”

You turned around to face Jotaro as he calmly took his hat off, revealing the jet black hair that you loved seeing. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay (y/n).” 

Your heart swelled at his words and you slowly turned around to see ABBA and Star Platinum holding each other lovingly, a warmth erupting throughout your whole body at the sight. The feeling of Jotaro grabbing your hand caught your attention and met his gaze once more. 

“He’s the personification of my thoughts and well… it seems like your stand, ABBA right? It seems like she’s the personification of yours.” 

The two of you watched as your stands talk to one another in their own little language, each enamored by the other’s presence. You turned back to Jotaro, seeing that his face had drawn closer. 

“Yeah… I guess... you’re… right.” 

As you breathed out that last word, Jotaro closed the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting in a sweet, long awaited kiss. You wrapped your arms around the fellow scientist’s, and now fellow stand user’s, neck, giggling slightly as he lifted your body off the ground to hold you tightly in his arms. When you two broke for air, Jotaro quickly kissed you again, holding you up like his life depended on it. 

When he finally set you down, Jotaro Kujo placed a hand to the side of your face and wiped away your tears. With a small laugh, he turned over to your stand.

“Hey ABBA, what took you so long huh?” 

“...Gimme.” ABBA shrugged a little bit and pointed at you. 

You smiled, wiping your tears away. “She said she wouldn’t appear until I was either ready for it, or I really needed her.” 

Jotaro rolled his eyes at your stand. “Well you really waited for the exact moment that she needed you huh-Ow!” 

Jotaro grumbled a bit as Star punched him in the arm, annoyed that his user was making fun of this new pretty stand. ABBA grinned mischievously before looking around at the rest of the group, and seeing all of the other stands. 

A feeling of happiness swelled within the stand’s heart. Ever since you had pricked your finger on the arrow, for so long she had been growing, becoming more and more trapped within you. It had been lonely seeing you struggle without her help. It had been upsetting to see you not yet be ready for her to show herself. But now, eyeing all the others, Heaven’s Door, Echoes, the Hand, Crazy Diamond, and especially Star Platinum, ABBA really didn’t feel alone anymore. And seeing now how the other stand users of Morioh rushed over to hug you and vocalize their shock at you having a stand, ABBA could tell that you didn’t really feel alone anymore either. With a sigh of content, your stand fazed back into your body as you followed the rest of the group away from the scene and back to the hotel to get some much needed rest. 

You leaned against Jotaro’s frame as he wrapped as a strong arm around you. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat everyone! Tonio’s, my treat!” He said with a bright smile. 

Josuke and Okuyasu cheered, “and (y/n) can meet Tonio’s stand!” 

You turned back to the teens in shock as you all walked ahead. “Tonio has a stand?!” 

Koichi gave a firm nod. “Yeah. So does Hazamada.” 

“That weird kid?!” 

“My girlfriend Yukako too.” 

“Damn… I had no idea…” 

You all shared a laugh as you left to enjoy a well deserved victory, the sun setting over the beautiful town of Morioh, another dark force defeated by the town's newest savior.

[dracoqueen22]

[CR] Of One’s Choice

Title: Of One’s Choice Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two, During Episode 57, Close to Home series Characters: Caduceus Clay, Caleb Widogast, Fjord Rating: K+ Description: Caduceus doesn’t know what to call this fluttering sensation when Caleb is around, but he supposes he’ll have to pay attention to it.

For @claylebweek

“Mr. Clay, if I might borrow you for a moment?”

It was Caleb asking, and that would have been enough, but there was an urgency in Caleb’s tone which rose the fine hairs on the back of Caduceus’ neck. Caduceus paused a few steps behind Fjord, and turned back toward Caleb, who stood in the hallway, fingers just shy of wringing together.

Lines of worry creased Caleb’s face, his eyes dark and shadowed. He still wore the pretend slave-gear, and the sight of it made Caduceus frown.

He didn’t like it.

“Of course,” Caduceus said. Anxiety rippled off Caleb in waves, and Caduceus swore he could taste the sour reek of it. “What can I do for you?”

“Um.” Caleb inched toward the door of his room, hand on the knob. “In private?” he asked, and he curled in, away from Caduceus, as if he expected immediate rejection.

For someone who had only recently boldly declared himself a friend of the Dynasty and an enemy of the Empire, who had done the only thing he could to save their lives, his behavior now seemed frighteningly meek.

Perhaps he was unwell.

“Sure,” Caduceus said. He handed his staff and shield to Fjord. “Put these on my bed for me?”

“No problem, Deucey.” Fjord’s forehead furrowed, and he glanced past Caduceus to Caleb before lowering his voice. “He all right?”

Once could take Captain Tusktooth from the sea, but couldn’t take the captain out of the half-orc. It was sweet of Fjord to worry.

“I guess we’ll see.” Caduceus patted Fjord on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

“Like you always do.” Fjord chuckled and slipped into their room. By the time Caduceus turned back toward Caleb, the wizard had already vanished into his room, though he’d left the door ajar in obvious invitation.

Caduceus still knocked with polite forewarning before he eased inside. It was a small room in comparison to the others, and he wondered if Caleb would be lonely, rooming by himself when so accustomed to sharing with Nott.

Caleb was in the midst of fumbling with the straps of the leatherwork around his body, his fingers trembling. He cursed under his breath, and Caduceus read his agitation in a glance.

"Here. Let me help," he said.

Caleb's face turned red, but he nodded and dropped his hands. "Thank you," he said. "I think they are tighter than they look."

Caduceus wisely chose not to mention the fact Caleb's hands were probably shaking too much to be of use.

"Thanks to you, none of us need worry about wearing something like this again," Caduceus said as he eased the leather bands away from Caleb, and tossed them into a corner. They skidded and slid under the bed.

Probably for the best.

"Yes. Thanks to me." A storm danced in Caleb’s eyes, furrowed his brow, twisted his lips into a severe frown. "I worry I have made a grievous error. I know I did what was best at the time for our survival, yet I can't help but think I have betrayed everything."

Caduceus tilted his head. "Everything is a broad term. You can't betray everything, otherwise you've betrayed nothing."

An exhale burst out of Caleb, his eyes flicking sharp toward Caduceus before finding the floor more fascinating.

"My parents. All I've been taught. The people in the Empire." Caleb slipped away from Caduceus like a skittish animal and began to pace in small measures, back and forth, back and forth. "I have given a mighty weapon to the Dynasty."

"You've returned something that belonged to them in the first place," Caduceus corrected.

Caleb raked his hands through his hair, barely visible scars rising white and pink from his bared arms as his sleeves fell back. "And I have aligned us, myself, with the Dynasty who are even now attacking my people."

"But are they your people?"

Caleb looked at him. "Of course they are."

Caduceus hummed. He’d given this a lot of thought, given their long, long trek from Felderwin to Xhorhas, and all they’d experienced while meandering toward Rosohna. "You know every person in the Empire? They deserve to die less than the people of Xhorhas?"

"That is not... I mean..."

Caduceus understood Caleb's anxiety, his dilemma. "It's war. I don't pretend to understand how the politics of big countries work, but I do know, neither side is really right or wrong, and the ones who are going to suffer the most, are the people who don't make the decisions in the first place."

Caleb's frantic pacing stopped.

Good. This was progress.

"You saved our lives, I'm pretty sure. Or at least, kept us out of prison. We got what we came here for, which is Yeza, and we're free. We can choose where to go from here. That, I think, is the worth the price we paid."

"There are people in the Empire who would think differently," Caleb said, but he started to draw, deep, steadying breaths.

"Probably," Caduceus conceded. "But I don't want to die for them."

Caleb looked at the ground, his face pinched in thought. His hands pulled in and out of fists before he abruptly shucked his coat, throwing it on the bed, leaving him in his shirt and his book holsters. He ran his fingers over the holsters themselves, chewing on his bottom lip.

"And your, uh, your god? She feels the same way?" Caleb asked.

"I’m sure she prefers me alive, but the gods don't really pick a side in these kinds of things," Caduceus said. "Not mortal politics, I mean." He paused and looked up at the ceiling, trying to put his thoughts in order by staring at something which wouldn’t distract him. "Though I guess if she really did disapprove, she'd let me know." He lowered his gaze again.

Caleb nodded slowly, like was absorbing the information and adding it to his calculations about whether or not he'd done a good thing. Caduceus was of the mind that since they'd managed to walk away with Yeza, their lives, and their freedom, it was the absolute best outcome. A calculated risk that ended in their favor.

If they wanted, they could teleport to Nicodranas and never set foot in the Dynasty again. They had options now, when before they were in chains and running out of them.

"Isn't it strange?" Caduceus said, after a moment. "Months ago, you all took something in Zadash, and you've been keeping it with you, and now, months later, you've given it back to its proper owners, saved your own lives in the process, and are in a position to make a difference."

"Strange, yes. Highly coincidental." Caleb gave Caduceus a strange look, eyes narrowed in thought, fingers still tracing the length of the leather. "You think this is the destiny I have? Or all of us?"

Caduceus shrugged. "I don't know. Destiny is a weird thing, Mr. Caleb. We still have a choice, I think, but certain things are set in our path, and it's up to us what to do with them."

And sometimes, that was the wrong choice, if his family’s gradual vanishing, and his own guilt were any indication. Caduceus had seen the path, and assumed it wasn’t meant for him, and it wasn’t until the Mighty Nein showed up that he realized how very wrong he’d been.

Caleb sighed and seemed to deflate. “In the end, it’s better to have lived, ja?”

“That’s my opinion.”

Caleb offered a half-smile, a relieved one, and the rest of his agitation whooshed out of him. He sank onto the edge of the bed like someone had cut his strings, his hair falling into his face. He braced his elbows on his knees and exhaled loudly, shoulders sinking.

“Thank you,” Caleb said. “I think I needed to hear that.”

Caduceus moved closer, and kneeled down in front of Caleb so that he could look at the wizard without either of them having to be awkward about it. Caleb had seemed so certain of his decision earlier, after the fact, it felt like a gift to see Caleb’s uncertainty now, as if he was only willing to trust Caduceus with this weakness.

“We spent weeks on a ship for Fjord. We risked a return trip to Nicodranas to get Jester to her mother. We came all the way to Xhorhas for Nott’s family,” Caduceus said, careful to keep his tone gentle. “So I’m pretty sure we’re all behind you for this, and whatever else you might need, or any of us need in the future.”

Red spread across the bridge of Caleb’s nose, traveling to the tips of his ears. His gaze fell away, as though he couldn’t meet Caduceus’ eyes. “I am unused to having others to rely on, Mr. Clay,” he said. “I think you underestimate how much we have needed you.”

Caduceus chuckled. “Maybe I did. Fortunately, the Wildmother didn’t. She put you in my path, or put me in yours, and here we are, exactly where I need to be. But it’s still nice to hear it.”

Nice to know it as well. There were times Caduceus doubted his own convictions, doubted himself as a member of their group. They had come together before they met him, and fitting into the empty spaces in the Mighty Nein had been a slow, awkward process.

Sometimes, he worried he did not belong.

And then there were times like this. Times where Caleb leaned on him or one of the others sought his counsel, and Caduceus thanked Melora for putting him exactly where he needed to be. So maybe, delaying his journey hadn’t been entirely for naught. Or maybe she’d found a way to make it work.

Caduceus supposed he’d never know for sure.

Caleb’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “You are very much welcome here, and I, for one, am glad you are one of us.” He drew in a slow, steady breath. “But look at me, jabbering on. You need your rest as much as I do, ja? Don’t let me keep you.”

“I am pretty tired,” Caduceus admitted, because it had been a long, stressful day. “Anytime you need to talk, though, I’m willing to listen.”

“And the same to you, my friend. Thank you,” Caleb said, and offered him a full smile, perhaps not with the radiance of one of Jester’s grins, but a genuine smile nonetheless.

Caduceus’ heart did that odd fluttering sensation again. Like a horde of butterflies had taken up residence in his thorax and flitted around, tickling his ribs.

“Anytime.” Caduceus patted Caleb on the knee and stood, taking his exit from the room, closing the door gently behind him.

For a moment, he paused before returning to the room he shared with Fjord. He closed his eyes and whispered a quiet prayer to Melora, to protect Caleb’s dreams tonight and offer him some reassurance, if it was at all within her power.

She responded not with words, but with a warm breeze on the back of his neck. She’d watch out for all of them.

Caduceus returned to the room, slipping quietly inside so as not to bother Fjord, but it was for moot. Fjord was still awake, and he called out to Caduceus the moment the door clicked shut.

“Caleb all right?” Fjord asked.

“Nothing to worry about,” Caduceus said as he pulled off his armor and everything he didn’t need to sleep.

“I don’t blame him,” Fjord said as he tucked his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. “We’re in over our heads in the worst way. Think I’d be freaking out, too, if I was him. Nice of ya to look after ‘im though. Help calm him down. He listens to you.”

“Does he?” Caduceus asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, forehead furrowed.

“Fuck I think we all do.” Fjord scratched at his chest before slinging his arm over his eyes. “Douse the lantern, will you?”

“Of course.”

Caduceus extinguished the lantern and climbed into bed, tucking himself beneath a blanket that smelled the same as any other inn he’d slept at, despite being miles and miles away. It was fascinating how some things were the same, while others were different. Here, his feet didn’t hang off the edge, so that was a nice change.

“Night, Deucey.”

“Good night, Fjord.”

The bed rustled as Fjord turned over on his side. Caduceus stared into the dark, thinking oddly about Caleb as sleep tried to claim him.

Caleb, standing before the Bright Queen, offering the dodecahedron in a desperate bid to protect them all. Caleb, afraid but determined, dirtied and wrapped in leather, his voice rising above the noise and clamor.

Caleb, small and uncertain, looking to Caduceus for reassurance.

Caleb, smiling quietly, reassuring Caduceus in return, even if he didn’t know it.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Caduceus pressed his palm over it. He wasn’t sure what it meant, only that it happened around Caleb a lot.

Maybe the Wildmother was trying to tell him something.

He supposed he’d just have to listen a little harder.

****

a/n: Feedback and reblogs and comments are absolutely welcome and encouraged! :)

[spookyboywhump]

ohhh i really need these soft asks in my life tonight, so sorry if this is a too much you can pick and choose but: 🍄 and 🍂 for Calum, 🍁 for Jason, 🌿 and 🥀 for Wren, 🌻 for Zander, and because whumpers are even more horrifying when they can be soft, 🌾 for Cain (not that anyone would really love him seeing how he is, but theoretically haha), and 🌳 for Alastair please :)

This got long because I wanted to answer!! All of them!! So I hope these are good!

Calum:

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

Snacks: Calum loves junk food, salty things like potato chips and popcorn are his favorites

Comfort food: anything sugary, his go to is cookie dough ice cream though, it might not fix everything wrong with his life but damn it comes close

Favorite meal/Enjoyment/Skill: the poor guy can’t cook. There isn’t a meal he could make without fucking it up so he tends to stick to prepackaged food and anything that can go in the microwave 

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

 Calum can probably count on one hand how many times in his life he’s been hugged, but he sure would love to had one more to that count 

As for showing affection, he’s more likely to display affection for people by doing things for them, taking care of them or getting protective over them. He doesn’t exactly have friends or family, but on the off chance he gets a soft spot for a stranger he will do whatever he can to make their life easier 

 When it comes to receiving affection, he doesn’t exactly know how to handle it. He’s touch starved and he craves affection, but he doesn’t know how to react to it which usually leads to him getting nervous and freezing up, or reaching coldly and putting the other person off 

Jason:

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

 Jason had a tendency to hide away in his room when he needed some alone time, and while he didn’t have one he would absolutely enjoy a “comfort corner”, he has horrible anxiety and would need something like that when he needs to calm down. He’s not all that much an outside person though, preferring to keep to himself and his own space indoors. 

Wren:

🌿 What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

 Wren likes to show people he cares through doing small favors for them or getting them “just because” gifts to let them know he’s thinking of them. 

 His friends tend to show they care about him through physical affection, they know he’s touch starved and something as simple as a quick hug or squeezing his hand is usually enough to make him feel loved and cared about 

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

 Wren would probably decorate the outside with stickers and small doodles, random things he’d draw because he’s bored. He wouldn’t be likely to keep a detailed journal but rather make notes to himself, reminders about work or events coming up, notes on things his friends have said he might want to remember, or keep track of things if he’s feeling overwhelmed 

Zander:

🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

 Given Zander’s situation, pretty much all he has for himself are the little things.

 He’s quick to notice any amount of kindness or mercy from people as he’s almost desperate for it, while the only little treasures he finds are the rare instances of humanity from the people around him.

 Someone smiling with actual kindness at him, a concerned person asking if he’s okay, even Cain being careful of a recent injury are all enough to make him smile, some small bit of light in his otherwise bleak existence. 

Cain:

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

I absolutely love the drag for Cain and I absolutely love that you asked this one for him because, while it’s not romantic love, somebody did love Cain at some point and still would to this day were she alive (of course if she were alive he wouldn’t be like this but that aside) so here’s Mrs. Christine Whitaker on Her Son

 “Physically Cain takes more after me, however he does have his father’s lovely blue eyes. He was adorable as a child so it makes sense he’d grow into a handsome young man. He had the capability to be so much more than his father made him, as a child he displayed so much compassion and kindness, and even now, very rarely some of that still breaks through. Unfortunately he’s cold hearted, cruel, self centered, and so very /lonely/, I’m afraid he lost his ability to really care for people a long time ago. Were it not for his greed and selfishness, he could’ve fixed the things his father started, but instead he’s… like this. As his mother I love him dearly, but I wish he had turned out differently.”

Alastair:

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

 Alastair’s ideal way to relax after a stressful day was sitting by the fire with a good book and Silas on his lap, ready and willing to be bitten at any time, because the vampire can’t even relax without being creepy.

[queenofcats17]

Dimensional Shenanigans

I’ve written stories about @insane-control-room‘s Johan meeting my Joey, Freckle, but I thought it would be cool to write one of my main BATIM oc’s meeting dear Johan

Although it did turn into Freckle and Johan having a heart to heart because Control and I ended up rping. 

Cordelia was lost. Not literally, but figuratively. She’d fallen asleep in the break room, only to wake up to a man she didn’t recognize standing over her. He had Joey’s voice, but the man in front of her was absolutely not the Joey Drew she knew. He was tall and dark skinned, with hair so dark black it was almost blue, and pink glasses covering eyes that she was quite certain were red. He looked confused by her presence, and she could see some apprehension in his posture and expression. He reminded her a little of her brother if she was being honest. But that was beside the point. She didn’t recognize this man. And, looking around, she found she didn’t recognize the breakroom either. It looked different than the one she was used to.

“Miss?” The tall man’s voice was quiet and polite as she stumbled to her feet, looking frantically around the room. “Do you know where you are?”

“I...This is the studio, isn’t it?” She asked, her heart beginning to race. “This is Joey Drew Studios, right?” She was starting to hyperventilate a little. This wasn’t the studio she was familiar with. She was certain of it now. It had a similar layout, but the little details were different. The dartboard Joey had put in was gone. Recently some of the other employees had started putting a crude drawing of Joey up to throw darts at. It had been there when she’d fallen asleep. And where was her coffee tray? She’d left it near the coffee maker. Even the coffee maker was different. But there were still Bendy cutouts around the room and a punch station in the corner.

“This...Where am I?” She looked back at the tall man. “This isn’t the studio. This isn’t my studio!” Her voice got higher as her panic increased. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” The tall man suggested. There was a tenderness in his voice that she’d never heard in her own Joey’s voice. He had such sad eyes. Eyes like hers. Eyes like her brother’s. She was calmed a bit by his presence. However, her anxiety remained at a low hum. 

“I’ll get you some tea.” The tall man gestured for her to follow him.

“I-I don’t want to be a bother.” She mumbled, feeling her cheeks beginning to warm. God, she felt stupid. This was probably his studio. She was a trespasser here. She’d just shown up and had a panic attack. 

“It’s no trouble.” The man assured her, stopping at the top of the stairs. “Please.” She hesitated, playing with the hem of her skirt.

“Thank you.” She said, stopping next to him.

“You’re welcome.” He gave her a soft smile. 

He led her out of the break room and through the studio halls. Cordelia tried to keep as close to him as she could while still observing the studio and noting the differences between this one and the one she was used to. It was pretty early, judging from the clocks, which explained the lack of other employees. Although she did see a few milling about, the man kept her out of their sight. She knew why he was doing it, he couldn’t have people finding out that she was from a different dimension, but it still hurt for some reason. As though she was doing something wrong. She was being silly. She knew that. 

The man took her to what she assumed was his living area. He gestured for her to sit down on the couch, ducking into the kitchen. 

“What type of tea do you like?” He asked. 

“O-Oh, you don’t need to make tea.” She got up, lingering nervously in the doorway to the kitchen. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re a guest.” He didn’t even glance back at her, already getting out some teabags. “It would be rude of me not to give you something.”

“Well...Okay.” She didn’t particularly want to argue with him, so she went back and sat down on the couch, playing with her skirt again. She hadn’t had time to go home and change before falling asleep, so her clothes were still rather dirty. Her blouse still felt a little damp from sweat and there were ink stains on her sleeves and skirt. 

It was a few minutes before the man returned with two cups of tea. He set one down in front of her before sitting on a chair nearby. 

“I hope you don’t mind chamomile.” He said. “It was all I had.”

“No no, it’s fine.” She smiled, picking up the cup and inhaling deeply. “I like chamomile.”

“Oh, good.” He brightened. “Would you like some honey?”

“Yes, please.”

He got up once more to retrieve some honey for her. She thanked him quietly once he returned, stirring the honey into her tea. She was feeling much calmer now, which was probably the point. 

“Thank you.” She said as she sipped at her tea. “The tea is very good.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied, holding his own cup in his lap. “I’m glad you like it.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit, just drinking their tea. Cordelia had never been all that good at talking to people she didn’t know. She was also extra nervous because she’d shown up in this man’s studio and she didn’t know how she’d gotten there. She was definitely trespassing and being a nuisance, two things she hated doing. She started to shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. She didn’t like sitting here like this, not saying anything. She looked back at the man. He was sipping at his tea, seemingly watching her out of the corner of his eye. He had such sad eyes. She couldn’t imagine what he’d been through to make his eyes so sad.

“You have sad eyes.” She suddenly blurted out. Immediately, she slapped her hand over her mouth, cursing her impulsivity. The man’s smile faded a bit but immediately popped back up. 

“It’s just the pink glasses that make a contrast.” He laughed, tapping the glasses. She could tell he was deflecting though. Almost immediately, she reached out and touched his hand. 

“It’s okay to be sad, you know,” She said, smiling gently. “I’m sad a lot too. You don’t have to bottle up your feelings.” 

“I’m fine, Miss. No need for you to worry.” He quickly withdrew his hand, setting it in his lap. There was a change in his eyes. She could see his walls going up, his posture stiffening. He was withdrawing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She put her hands up. “I shouldn’t have overstepped your boundaries like that.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” He insisted, laughing nervously. “You must think I’m a terrible host.”

“But I overstepped your boundaries.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m being an awful host.”

The next few minutes were spent in a cycle of apologizing. Each of them was getting progressively more upset. Johan was nervous, not understanding why this girl was apologizing to him. Surely it was his fault. Cordelia was just plain upset. She had an ingrained need to be liked and to not upset people and she was certain she’d upset this man. The more she apologized, though, the more confused Johan became. 

Finally, Cordelia stopped.

“Let’s, um, let’s start over.” She suggested, sticking out her hand. “My name is Cordelia Bell.” He fumbled for a moment, being that he was left-handed, but he managed to shake her hand. 

“Joey Drew.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Drew.” She gave him a big smile. She’d already sort of figured out that this man was another Joey from the sign above the office and his voice. But still, it wouldn’t do to be impolite. He smiled back awkwardly.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, both unsure what to say or how to proceed with this situation. 

“I should probably find a way home.” Cordelia finally said. 

"I’d be happy to help in any way I can.” The other Joey collected the teacups, taking them to the kitchen before returning to her in the living room.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” She said. 

“Alright.” The other Joey pulled out a strange machine she didn’t recognize, setting it on the table. “Tell me about your Joey.”

Cordelia inhaled through her teeth. “Well, um, he’s a little taller than me. More than a little taller really. He’s probably average height I guess. He’s got dark hair, about the same length as mine actually. He’s white and kind of skinny. He usually wears dress pants, a dress shirt, grey vest, red bowtie.” She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “Oh! And he’s got a ton of freckles!”

The other Joey stared at her for a moment. He blinked. He took off his glasses.

“And you have no idea how you got here?”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t.” She nodded. “I was running around all night before I fell asleep in the break room. We had a big deadline to meet and everyone was pretty stressed.”

“Did you see your Joey before you fell asleep?” He asked. 

“Yeah. I dropped off some papers before I went to the break room.” She replied. “He was hunched over some book muttering to himself. I don’t think he really noticed me.” The other Joey shrugged a bit. 

“Let him know JR would like a word.” He said before pressing some buttons on his machine. What appeared to be a door made of light appeared in front of them. Cordelia blinked, getting up and walking over to it. She’d never seen anything quite like this before. 

“Um, thank you.” She turned back to the other Joey, curtseying awkwardly. “I’m sorry again for intruding. I’ll tell him what you said.” Then she stepped through. She found herself right outside Joey’s office. Her Joey’s office. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Miss Bell!” She looked up to see Grant coming toward her. “There you are! Mr. Lawrence has been looking everywhere for you!” 

“Sorry, Mr. Cohen.” She said. “I’ll be right there.”

She was kept busy for the next few hours, darting around delivering papers and coffee. But she did eventually make her way back to her Joey’s office. He looked about as cranky as he had the last time she’d seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had a large cup of coffee. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Drew.” She said brightly. Joey gave her a vague grunt of acknowledgment, taking a big swig of his coffee. Cordelia sighed, putting the papers from Sammy on his desk. 

“I met a man this morning who had a message he wanted to me to give to you.” 

“If it’s the man from the church group, tell him I think he knows where he can put his pamphlet,” Joey allowed himself a smug smile. 

“No, he wasn’t from any church group,” Cordelia said. “He said to tell you JR would like a word.” Joey inhaled sharply, which led to a coughing fit as he’d inhaled some coffee.

“Mr. Drew! Are you alright?” Cordelia moved to go around the desk, but Joey put up a hand. 

“I’m fine.” He gasped out between coughs. He’d gone paler than usual.

“Are you sure?” She asked, brow knitted with worry.

“I’m sure.” Joey nodded. “You should get back to work now. Sammy’s probably looking for you.”

“Yes, sir.” Cordelia collected the papers left out for Sammy and departed, still worried.

.

An hour later, the Joey Drew colloquially known as Freckle was stepping into the universe of Johan Ramirez. 

“Do you want to talk?” Johan asked as Freckle entered the room. 

“No, I don't want to talk.” Freckle snapped. “What the Hell did that mean?!” Johan looked Freckle over. He could immediately tell the other man hadn’t slept in a bit, judging from the dark circles under his eyes. He stood up, crossing the room and putting his hands on Freckle’s shoulders. 

“You need to rest.” He said, gently guiding Freckle to the couch. 

“I do not!” Freckle protested, sounding very much like a petulant child. He tried to fight it, but Johan did eventually get him to lay down and sleep for a bit. Johan went and prepared some hot chocolate, setting it out for when Freckle awoke before snuggling up next to the smaller man.

Once Freckle had awoken, Johan asked again if he wanted to talk. He wanted to know what was wrong. 

“It’s...been a rough week,” Freckle admitted. “Bertie and I have been fighting like cats and dogs, Grant says the studio is hemorrhaging money.” He sighed heavily, shoulders shaking. “I thought...Maybe if I could open up some portals I could get some advice from other Joey’s. But...I guess I messed up since I was tired. I didn’t think Miss Bell would get caught up in it.” Johan, head resting on Freckle’s chest, was silent. 

“My honest advice?” He finally said. “Stop. It’s hard, but...give in. It’s okay to admit defeat, and you can rise again at a better opportunity." Freckle also went quiet. For a moment, it seemed like he might consider Johan’s words. Then his face twisted and he stood up, pushing Johan off of him. 

“You’re just like everyone else.” He snapped. “You don't think I can do it. Well I can! I'll show you! I'll show all of you!" He tried to storm out, but Johan grabbed him by the wrist.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you can do it,” he said. “I’m just saying you should take a break.”

“Let me go!” Freckle tried to pull away again. Johan pulled him closer, enfolding Freckle’s hand in his. 

“Please, think about it.” His voice was soft and gentle. Slowly, Freckle’s anger began to ebb. He got very quiet, staring at Johan’s hand. 

“I have to be able to do this.” He whispered. “I have to succeed.” His voice broke a little. He took a deep breath, willing the tears to go away. He couldn’t be weak. He had to be able to do this. 

“I believe in you,” Johan said. “But you should take a breath and look at the big picture.” Freckle didn’t say anything for a long time, just staring at Johan’s hands. 

“I don’t know how.” He’d never been good at looking at the big picture. Esther had always teased him about how single-minded he could be, never quite thinking through the consequences of his plans. All he ever thought about was the end goal. 

Johan followed Freckle’s gaze down to his own hands, wondering if the other man was staring at the numerous scars crisscrossing the skin. He tapped a few with his free hand, saying, “These who it’s okay to start over. To take a break. To Change.”

“I think I’m in too deep.” Freckle replied, running his thumbs over Johan’s scars. Johan looked him up and down, sighing softly. He enfolded Freckle in a hug, gently patting his back. 

“It’s okay.” He murmured. Freckle practically melted into Johan’s arms, letting out an instinctual sob. He clung to the taller man, taking deep breaths to will himself not to cry. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t. 

It was a few minutes before he finally pulled away. He muttered some words of thanks to Johan and departed back to his own studio through a portal. Johan turned his gaze to someone that no one else could see, frowning a little. He sighed. 

"He's not gonna listen, is he?"

He will. Eventually. A young woman’s voice replied. Only Johan could hear it at this point. 

"In what, thirty years? When it's all done and over?" Johan went over to his couch, laying down with his legs hanging off the edge. 

It's hard to change his mind. It's the way Joey's are

"Point taken."

But he will learn. There will be a happy ending

"Sure."

There will be. For him, at least. You, I have no control over

"Wonderful."

"Is there anything else I can help you with, your majesty?"

No, but thank you for your help. I hope you find your happy ending

He got quiet and turned to face the cushions of the couch, curling up. 

Goodbye Johan

"...Au revoir." Then the presence was gone and he was alone. 

[spacenerrrd]

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover: Chapter 2

Sander Sides

Word count: 2,948

Characters: Patton/Creativity, Virgil/Anxiety, Patton/Morality, Logan/Logic

Warnings: School stresses

Summary: Logan runs a library in a small town, allowing him to share his love of books without feeling left out. His business partner and friend Roman helps by running the bright Disney themed cafe that attracts more people to stay for longer. The two clashing but somehow perfect match of a friendship went their days peaceful in their small community until one day a new pair of brother; Patton and Virgil, moved into town and showed the owners a new way of live.

Chapter two: Getting to know you

Chapter 1

~~~

Scribbles.

“So you understand that the y-intercept can be found by knowing the gradient of the slope?”

“No I don’t get it. How can you do that? I don’t understand the equation Logan.” The red haired girl hid her freckled face into the heels of her hands.

��Well, let me write it down for you. The equation is y=mx+b and the m stands for….Lucy?” Logan heard sniffles coming from the girl and his face softened from his usual serious tone when he was tutoring. “It’s alright ok? You’ll pass this test because you’ll understand it.”

“But what if I don’t? I need to pick up my grades in Maths otherwise I won’t make my dream university.” She mumbled in her hands, voice rough from her recent crying.

“Don’t you dare say that you won’t make it. I know you can, believe me. You are one of the most brightest and intelligent young ladies I know and you can do this.” Logan scooted his chair closer and rested a delicate hand on her back. “Look at me Lucy.”

She hesitantly looked up, her shining blue eyes glistened with the tears ran down her cheeks, sticking strings of her hair messily across her face.

“Let’s take a break. Why don’t you get that book you come in when you’ve had a bad day and you can read it to me?”

“How did you-”

“It’s my job to know this stuff. Now go.” Logan gave a soft smile that lit up Lucy’s face as she ran off to search the shelves. He sighed, sorting out the sheets of study papers and notes. He didn’t need to see it to notice the person sit across from him, and somehow feeling the smile radiate off them it would really only be one person. “Greetings Patton, I’m glad to see you back again.”

“Hiya Lo! Gee, this place is just oh so lovely that I couldn’t stay away!”

“Thank you for the compliment. May I ask where Virgil is?”

“Oh! Yea Virg is just at the cafe. Needs a big ol’ cup of coffee before diving into the books.” Patton’s happiness seemed very dramatic for the situation, but Logan guessed that’s just how he was.

“So he’s still in school.”

“Yes sir-ry! Very much into the music industry and arts. Such a brilliant kiddo he is!”

“He sounds wonderful indeed. Now I’m sorry Patton, but I have a tutoring session currently and she will be back any minute.”

“So that’s who that pretty young chooken was! I saw how you handled her emotions and it just made my heart swell with joy. You seem to be so good with the children. Do you help them a lot? She seemed to be just so comfortable with you like my golly. I would not expect that from you Lo, but I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, am I right?”

Before Logan could even get a word in to reply to any of the questions Lucy had already returned, grinning ear from ear that made him blush.

“Oh yes, sorry, teaching session going on. I’ll get out of your way.” Patton was still smiling, shuffling his chair back until Lucy spoke up.

“Wait Mr, you can stay. I haven’t seen Logan smile like that in ages.”

“I was not smiling Lucy and you know better.”

“Oh yea, totally. But can you stay? I was only going to read this book anyway. Do you want to sit with us?”

Logan was about to protest the idea before Patton spoke up. “My golly, I would be honoured to listen. You have such a lovely voice.”

Lucy giggled, a light pink covering her cheeks that made her eyes shine brighter. “Why thank you Mr.”

“Please, my names Patton, but most people call me Dad.”

Lucy laughed, smile unfortunately spreading across Logan’s face from seeing her happy. She opened the book, and to little surprise by Logan she started reciting the words from Alice In Wonderland. “Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'”

Logan looked over at Patton who was resting his head in his hands, eyes sparkling as he listened like she was an angel from heaven. Logan cringed at the small smile that was on his face, but he unfortunately couldn't help it as his heart fluttered that tiny bit more.

Virgil had his headphones ear so loud that it was a wonder how his ears weren’t bleeding. The purple hood covered his face in a shadow, hair assisting as it fell over his eyes. He stood in front of the counter, trying not to smile at the Disney puns of names before he was snapped back when a hand waved in front of his face. He disgruntledly removed a headphone and looked up at a smirking Roman.

“Well hello emo child, glad to see you back here.”

Virgil stared at him. “You’re the closest coffee place….and the best tasting in town.” he grumbled, trying to decide on what to get.

“I suggest the Black Cauldron. It’s the biggest and strongest coffee we have, perfect for study time when you hardly have any sleep.”

“I am not-”

“Bag slung across one shoulder that is shaped to hold books and a laptop, too lazy to wear properly as it’s too close of a walk. Although you seem to cover it with your heavily done eyeshadow, the bags under your eyes are still visible and almost draws attention away to your beautiful eyes.” Roman smirked. “You’re not the only student who’s a favourite here. Soon I’ll know your timetable.”

Virgil stood there speechless, blushing furiously as his eyebrows knitted together. “Just make my damn coffee will you?” He slammed the change on the table and stomped off to one of the tables, the smirk growing wider.

Virgil had his music pumping into both ears again, setting up with a textbook, sheets and an art book he was currently sketching in. He was drifting off from the real world, getting lost in how the pencil worked against the paper until a coffee slid in front of him and someone occupied the spare seat. He sighed heavily, trying to ignore Roman as he took a large gulp from his cup and went back to his book. The boy would of kept going if it wasn’t for the fact that Roman shuffled closer, trying to peer at what Virgil was drawing. He tilted the book away, getting words from Roman that he couldn’t hear. He pulled an earphone out, earning a smirk.

“Whatcha drawing handsome?”

“None of your business.”

“It will be if you’re going to becoming in regularly. Just got out of an art degree myself last year, along with theatre, so I’m making sure you guys actually keep going on the work.”

“How did you know I’m taking an art-”

“I also can tell you’re taking music. Do I really need to go through how I know this, Senior.”

Virgil flushed again, nails digging into his palms in agitation as he pulled his jumper sleeves down.

“I’m not here to pick, we’re here for support, and quite honestly you’re a cutie so I don’t want you to be getting behind sweetheart.”

“I am not sweet. If I was coffee I’d need as much sugar as that coffee did yesterday Princey.”

Roman’s smile faltered at the name, Virgil about to apologies before Roman spoke up again like nothing happened. “You wish. I’ll get the soft side out of you, just wait. I-” Roman was cut off by a small child tugging at his sleeve. The small boy had chocolate brown eyes that matched his hair, small freckles covering his face. “Well hello Miles. What would you like?” “Isn’t it story time Ro? We wanna know what happens next!” The small child pointed to a large clock, the arrows pointing to the words STORYTIME in silly font instead of the number 3.

“Well would you look at that it is! Why don’t you go tell the other’s that I’ll be there in just a giffy.”

Miles smiled wide, running of to spread the word to the other children playing.

“I’m sorry to cut our date short, but the children will attack if I don’t go over soon. I’ll come back just after playtime if you’re still here though.”

“This wasn’t a date-”

“See you later hoodie boy.” Roman winked before standing up and walking over to the the small children who cheered in unisation. Roman smiled at them all, taking his seat in the throne and picking up a book. All the children gathered and sat patiently, wide eyes and bright smiles facing Roman as he narrated the book, facial expressions and different voices for the characters packaged in that had the children laughing.

Virgil tried to make it not obvious that he looked up to watch Roman from time to time. The way the kids seemed to love him to bits that made it extremely hard for Virgil to force a smile down.

Once Lucy had been feeling better and convinced Logan that she was fine to keep working, they went back to work. Patton still sat patiently across from them, learning too from listening to Logan.

Lucy looked at her phone for a moment before having to take a double take, eyes going wide. “Oh god, it’s already 5. I really need to get back home.”

Logan looked confused until he got a glimpse of the time himself. “Oh god Lucy, I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking at the time.” His face turned to one of guilt.

“No no, it’s alright. It’s my responsibility. It shouldn’t be too bad today anyway. Dad’s not home so Mum should be out and won’t even notice.” She smiled, hiding a million different emotions behind it. “See you later Logan, and thanks for spending time with us Patton.”

“Anytime kiddo, I wish you luck for your test.” Patton waved Lucy off, smile still wide. He looked back at Logan and the expression on his face made him worry. “Come on Lo, being home a little bit late shouldn’t be too bad, right?”

Logan looked at Patton, trying to hide any emotion on his face but his eyes betrayed him. “Lucy doesn’t have the best living arrangement at this current moment. She doesn’t have the money to live in campus so she needs to stay there for now.”

Patton smile faltered for a moment. “Oh… well at least she has you and your library to come back to a safe place.”

Logan gave a quick small smile. “Yes, I guess that is a positive.” he started cleaning up the textbooks and scrap paper left on the table, grateful for the silence until Patton was speaking up again.

“I never would of thought you would be so good with kids Lo!”

“I’m not good with humans. The only thing I know how to do well is to teach and the point of that interaction was to teach.”

“No way! She was crying and you calmed her right down to where she was smiling. If I don’t call that good then people don’t call me Patton.”

“I was merely being factual, it was just a plus that she found it comforting.”

“Whatever you say Lo, but we both know the truth.”

Logan gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t Patton just trust that he was bad with human interaction? If he was good then they would’ve stayed, not hurt him. He wouldn’t be here if he was good with human interaction , so why can’t Patton just admit it. He stayed silent, afraid to open his mouth and walked away to put the textbooks back on the shelf. Logan thought he would be left alone until he could hear the soft skipping on the carpet that was unmistakably Patton. He stayed silent though as he sorted out the textbooks and some other books that he saw were out of place. The entire time Patton trotted behind him, smile still there as he quietly admired everything. Something about the silence was worse than Patton’s talking but he wasn’t going to mention anything. Once he had finished organising the books he turned around to the ball of sunshine following him. “Do you need to get home? I think Virgil has been studying for a considerable amount of time..”

“Oh yes! I bet he’s gotten so much work done. Gosh, i’m just so gosh darn proud of him, ya know?” Patton said cheerfully like everything else, starting to head to the cafe.

“I do know, as you have expressed it in the past before and it is very evident in the way you speak about him.” Logan state, not understanding the question Patton said was mainly rhetorical, but still getting a bright grin in return. He walked over to the cafe, Patton happily trotting alone up to the table Virgil was sitting at. With both of his headphones in he didn’t realise the two coming up and saw him looking over at Roman who was playing with a small girl, parents must of still been at work. The small soft smile being wiped off and being replaced by a flush of red after hearing Patton’s exclamation.

“AWWWW VIRGE!! You’re smile is adorable!! If it was making you that happy you should’ve just asked to join them.”

Virgil’s eyes went wide, turning to see if Roman heard to be met with the princes shining eyes and a laughter tumbling from his lips. Virgil stared at Patton who was oblivious to what he was doing wrong as he started to back up his work. Shoving it into his bag, mumbling something under his breath before stomping off to the exit.

“Well it seems like someone’s on the Virge about something.” Patton grinned, giggling at his own joke. Although he did not find it that amusing himself, Logan found himself giving a small smile about something. “Well I guess I better get him, make sure he doesn’t get lost on the way to the car. I’ll see you later Lo!”

“My names Logan, and goodbye Patton.” He waved off the bouncing ball, taking a seat at the cafe to watch Roman play. Even though it was past the playtime, as evident by the hands on the big clock being past the words PLAYTIME that replaced the 4 and 5, he still played with the little girl who was left as their parents were late. Logan just couldn’t understand how he was so good with people. All the students who came in and went to him seemed a little bouncy on their toes as they left. Roman claims the same happens to the kids he tutors but he denied it, saying he couldn’t see any difference in them. Logan didn’t realise how long he had been sitting there for, lost in thought until Roman pulled up a seat beside him. He sighed when he saw his massive grin. “Nothing did or will happen.”

“I never said anything did. I was grinning about that I saw you smiled at a pun. Honestly I feel offended that you smiled at his because I’ve been telling you some for years and haven’t even gotten the smallest sign of a smile yet he could get one out of you just like that.”

“I wasn’t smiling at the pun.”

“Oh, so there was something else.”

“Why can’t I just smile and have it be over nothing?”

“Because you don’t smile anymore.”

The tone suddenly dropped, a silence falling over the two for a bit. Logan didn’t look up at Roman who was giving him a gentle stare. After a few moments the Logan suddenly stood up, the chair scraping against the wooden floors. “You know how to pack up.”

“Oh Lo, you know I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t call me that.” Logan snapped, making Roman shut his mouth. Logan’s expression softened slightly, eyes apologising. “I will see you in the morning.” He received a nod from Roman as he walked out. Even though there was still an hour until they were suppose to shut, there was currently no one else in apart from them and some students who offered to clean up the shelves for some pocket money. Logan’s leather shoes trotted along the pavement as he made his way home, hands in the pockets of his heavy jacket. Soon the keys were clicking the lock open and they were dropped with a clank into the bowl that sat upon the table. The jacket was shrugged off and hung up neatly through routine, shoes shortly following suit. Logan made his way straight to the his office, sitting down in the dark blue leather chair that was positioned behind the oak desk. The draw was slid open to allow him to pull out a black fabric covered book. It was opened, revealing pages upon pages of neatly writing words, dates differing from hours to months. His mother taught him that showing pain and emotion was weakness, so to allow a book to keep them locked up and safe was the better option. Logan found a new fresh page, crisp white seeming to shine in the dim light. A fountain pen was picked up from the cup that kept his desk neat and was soon spilling its ink along the pages, expressing emotions it shouldn’t be able to.

Scribbles.

~~~

Here’s Chapter 2 y’all! I hope you all enjoy this one because I really enjoyed writing this. If you’d like to be tagged in future ones and aren’t on my tag list let me know and I’ll happily join you in!

Next chapter

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[anonfeather]

Architect of my Heart

Summary:  Circa 1780. Virginian Governor Thomas Jefferson accidentally knocks over the (cute) newly appointed councilman, James Madison, that he’s yet to formally met. Instead of presenting himself as his superior, Jefferson lets him believe he’s an architect. He keeps the lie going on as long as possible as he enjoys spending time with Madison without stressing about correct social protocol.

Rating: Teen

Warning/Content: Fluff, a bit of angst, mistaken identity, panic attack

Author's Note: A request from minervajeanlupin :). “I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a story where Thomas is a really famous person but James doesn't recognize him at first? I just love stories like that.”

Madison hurried through the halls of the building that was temporary being used the state capitol. The governor had recently moved the legislature from Jamestown to Richmond, and the new capitol was yet to be built. From what he recalled, it wasn’t even designed yet.

The building was old, dank, and musty, causing his nose to ache. The fact that he was almost running didn’t help him. He was late to met the aforementioned governor. He arrived in Richmond three days prior, but the travel had worn him out. He fixed the appointment for today, sadly a fever kept him bedridden until noon. He had mustered all his energy to get out. He managed to reach his destination, however he arrived much later than he intended. He had no choice to at least attempt to show up; he didn’t want to insult the governor.

As he quickly turned a corner, misfortune occurred and he crashed into someone. A flurry of papers scattered, his and the stranger’s. They were both knocked to the ground.

“Oh, Heaven forgive me, I’m really sorry,” Madison coughed out through wheezes. He picked up as quickly as he could the other’s documents to atone. “I should have been looking - Oh, I’m so late. I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry, goodfellow,” the other tried to reassure. “I wasn’t looking much where I was going either. Here,” the stranger handed him his files, as he stood up. He was incredibly tall, thick curly hair surrounded his head, and was dressed in a bright magenta suit. “You’re the new councilman, aren’t you?” He inquired. “James Madison?”

Madison nodded and lifted himself off the ground, ignoring his dizziness. He exchanged what he picked up for his things. He noticed that the stranger’s documents were building designs of roman inspired architecture. “Yes, I am. I’m dreadfully sorry, I have to leave. The Governor. I mean, the Governor is waiting for me.”

“Oh, I’m - .” The stranger nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, but he just stepped out for the day.”

Madison’s face fell. What horrible impression the governor is going to have about him. Pain in his chest swelled up, his breathing got difficult. He grabbed his head, his fever reminding him of its presence; he was sweating. He was going to be dismissed from his position even before starting it! It’ll be such a humiliation to return home. “I’m sorry for my lack of composure. I - I’m such a dunce.”

“Hey, breathe, breathe,” The other man laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Madison followed the other’s indications and managed to calm down. At least he didn’t hyperventilate until he passed out, as he was prone to do it stressful situation.  

After a few minutes, he managed to resume coherent speech.“You, you have my thanks, mister…?”

“Oh! Ah - Randolph! Thomas Randolph.” He stuck his hand out.

The name rang no bells. Madison gave out a sigh of relief. This man wasn’t a colleague that he’d have to face in the following days. Judging by his garish clothing and the building designs he was holding, he was without a doubt the architect hired to draft the new capitol in Richmond.

“Thank you, Mr. Randolph.”

“Please, ah, call me Thomas. No one ever calls me that.”

‘Artist, always the eccentrics’, Madison thought. “Very well Thomas. It was very nice to meet you. Well, if the governor left, I might as well return home to rest.”

“Let me walk you home!” Thomas eagerly offered. In normal circumstances, Madison would have refused. However, he was feeling faint. He feared not managing on his own.

“I wouldn’t want to impose, but truth is, I’d greatly appreciate your kindness if you could. If it doesn’t trouble with your work, naturally..” He gestured to the drawings.

“What? Oh, those. Those are nothing, really.”

“Nonsense, you seem to be a talented architect.”

“You think so?” Thomas beamed.

“Well, I just had a brief look… My knowledge is rather limited.”

“Oh.”

“However, I’m interested in the subject. Tell me the details as we walk?”

“Yes! I’d love to,” Thomas was bright-eyes at the prospect. He took an enthusiastic step away, then backtracked to offering an arm to help Madison to walk. The help was accepted. Thomas prattled on the subject. Madison managed to push some insightful comment through the fever. The outside air did him some good, alleviating some pain.

“This one’s mine,” Madison interrupted Thomas when they near the boarding house he was currently living in. The room he was small, and offered few amenities. At least he didn’t need to share it with other bachelors like the cheaper residences.

Thomas looked unimpressed.

“It’s an old building, but still sturdy.” Madison defended to the architect’s gaze.

“I guess…So, is Mrs. Madison boarding here with you, or did she stay in your main house?”

“There’s no Mrs. Madison. I’m a rather… stubborn bachelor to be honest.”

“Oh, well. Need me to get your domestic to help you upstairs to your room?”

“I came alone. My father couldn’t spare the help at the moment; too much work in the fields.”

Thomas gave him a pitying glance. He cheeks reddened in frustration; he would have told off the other man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had admitted to need for his help to reach his lodging.

“Well then, allow me,” Thomas was strong, or Madison was very slight, the climb was effortless. After Madison unlocked the door, Thomas navigated him to the bed. The room was very bare; other than the bed, there was a chair, desk and porcelain basin on the nightstand underneath the shaving mirror.

“You’re a very charitable soul, Thomas. Your help had been fully appreciated and will not be forgotten.”

“You sound like we won’t meet again.”

“Well, it was chance meeting. I doubt that as an architect you need to be in that musty building to design the new capitol.”

“Ah, well I do go there quite often actually. I’m well … acquainted with the governor, you see. So, we might get a lot of chance meetings,” Thomas explained with faltering smile. “That is, if you aren’t bothered by my company. I know I can go on and on when I talk about something I like.”

“Honestly, your passion was refreshing,” said Madison. “A break from politics is enjoyable.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Madison raised an eyebrow from that exclamation. “I - oh, often the governor feels the need to, explain his full day in detail. I know a lot of what going on and such.”

“I see. Well, good thing you’re close to him. Please send him my apologies of having missed him. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“I don’t think it’d be wise to get out of bed. I’m not a physician, but I think you should stay in bed until you’re stable on your own feet.”

“I need to push beyond the fever. What will he think of me?”

“Well,” Thomas started, not meeting his gaze. “The governor is a good man. I’ll inform him of your plight. And if your mind feels sharper than your body, you could give your opinion in writing on the subjects he’s struggling with. I’ll give you the details, and I’ll come at noon to gather your notes. We’ll share a meal, maybe outside if you need the fresh air.”

“You are very kind - I wouldn’t want to impose such a burden…”

“Nonsense! I love being in your company!” Blurted Thomas. His exuberance was overwhelming. Madison gave a wry smile finding some charm in the artist’s flamboyant expressions.

“I guess you’re a godsend. I agree to your proposal.” He said with a tired smile.

Thomas gave the rundown of the currents subjects the governor wanted counsel on. When he saw that Madison’s energy was drooping, he bid him a good rest after filling him a cool glass of water, placing it at his side.

oOoOoOo

Thomas kept his promise by coming back the next day. He even came bringing a letter straight from Governor Jefferson telling him to get well and that he’ll be glad to have his advice via correspondence. Madison wondered what connection Thomas had with the powerful man. His leading theory was probably a brother-in-law or maybe a cousin. He didn’t feel that it was quite right, however he didn’t feel the necessity to bring it up.

Thomas became a lunchtime buddy for the following week. The last day he came by, Madison’s fever broke and they could spend their lunch under the cool shade of a tree.

When Madison could finally return to the legislative building, he met with the other councilmen. They were informed of his past malady and didn’t hold his absence against him, seeing as the governor had shared his thoughts with the group during cabinets meetings.

His first official day was draining. He had felt mounting anxiety before coming in and it didn’t leave immediately after his colleagues’ acceptance. Now, there was only one person left to met. “Can anyone tell me where Governor Jefferson is?”

John Page answered. “Well, it’s around noon, so, as you should know, he’s out for lunch.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you for the information.” When he left the room, Thomas was waiting for him.

He heard a councilman snigger behind him, whispering. “Must be nice to have a direct line to the g’vernor like that.”

He frowned. Thomas looked distraught.

“I can explain!” Thomas said.

“No, it’s alright. You’re close to the Governor, and they just think I’m getting to him through you. It’s not like we speak a lot of politics when we dine.”

“Y-yeah, right.” Thomas still seemed nervous. Madison changed the subject to ease him.

“I brought the book from the other day, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“That’s wonderful! And I’ve brought today’s experiment!” Seeing as his boardinghouse only offered half-board, Madison had to scrounge up his own meal for lunch. His decision was to forgo it completely, but Thomas had been aghast at the thought. He offered to bring over the meals.

He had gotten really excited, explaining that it was a great opportunity to test new recipes. Madison initially wanted to refuse such gesture. However, seeing as there was a chance that the food would horrendous as Thomas honed his culinary skills, he felt no guilt in accepting the deal.  

They found a nice hidden groove, with an old tree to sit under. They shared meal and thoughts. Thomas had a wonderful ability to make him feel comfortable and forget his worries for a few moments. However, his new friend was constantly looking at him at the moment.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You’ve been staring. Did I spill something? Or did I say something that bothers you?”

“Oh, no. No. I’m sorry - I didn’t even realized I was, ah starring.” Thomas’ cheeks darkened. “I like to look at you. You look good! Wait, I mean - Heaven strike me down, please.”

“Don’t worry,” Madison patted his hand. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t.. mind?”

“Well, you’re an artist. Artists are… free-minded, no? I.. I had a roommate like you, a poet.”

“Like me?” Thomas was nervously fiddling with his nails. “What? I guess..I don’t know...”

Neither of them pushed any allegation or offered any confirmation. They both changed the subject at the same time, each awkwardly laughing at the social clumsiness. Their meal finished, and they returned to the legislative building. Madison wondering how Thomas spent his time there; he surmised that the architect found a room to work the design.

They parted ways, Madison had to discuss a few points with fellow councilman, Walker. He wondered if he’d have the occasion to drop by Governor Jefferson’s office afterward. However, as his meeting went on with Walker, he knew it’d be impossible. Walker was adamant to win the argument. In the end, Madison was invited over for supper so that they could continue their debate.

He agreed out of professional principle. The meal had been lovely prepared by Mrs. Walker, and a few hours after the meal, Walker had finally conceded defeat. Madison learned during the meal that Governor Jefferson’s resided in a rented house down the street. Maybe his mind was muddled by the generous wine Walker kept pouring his glass, but he thought it was a good idea to finally present himself to his superior.

He stumbled over, and politely knocked. The door was opened by a confused domestic, wondering who’d disturbed at this hour. “Greetings, I would like to speak with Governor Jefferson.”

The domestic didn’t have time to muster a response as someone interjected in his stead.

“Mr. Madison, what are you doing here?” It was Thomas that squeaked that question as he was passing through the foyer, wine glass in hand. He was dressed down, obviously retiring for the night. He quickly shooed the domestic away.

“I was in the neighborhood. Decided to drop by to meet to finally meet the Governor. Where is he?” In his drunken haze, Madison realized something was fishy. “Why are you here?”

“Crap. Listen, I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Find out..” His mind worked overtime, putting the pieces together.  

Thomas sighed deeply before him, and confessed. “I’m the govern-.”

“You’re the governor’s lover,” said Madison at the same time.

“What.”

“It makes so much sense now.I should have realized it sooner. Anyway... can I meet him now? Or is he in an indecent disposition at the moment?”

Thomas blushed at the implication. “N-no, he’s not, I’m sorry. Besides, you’re.. drunk.” Thomas hadn’t been certain in his assessment; Madison’s speech was coherent, but his reasoning was definitely off. Not to mention he used the doorway to stay standing.

“Oh, I haven’t thought of that… It’d be improper. Guess I’ll need to postpone it again. Well, I better be off. Have a pleasant night Thomas.” Madison backed away and would have stumbled down the stairs had Thomas not rushed out to grab him. “Haha, thanks for your kindness again.”

“I don’t think you should return back to your place tonight.”

“Hum, is it an invitation to stay over?” Madison flirted. He was a whisper away from Thomas’ face.

“Yes!” The taller man blurted, red in the face.

“Haha. Won’t the governor be jealous?”

“I won’t. Oh, no I meant. Crap, no you can’t stay here. Nevermind, I - Let me put something proper on, I’m escorting you back home.” Thomas sprinted away. Madison stabilized himself by sitting down on the stairs, patiently waiting for his friend’s return. He almost had time to fall asleep before the other came back dressed.

“Let me help you up,” Thomas pulled him up, and allowed Madison to lean on him. Luckily, he remembered the way to the boarding house, because Madison was of no help.

“So, do you, ah, indulge yourself often like this?” Questioned Thomas for small talk.

“Hardly ever - But I had to prove to Walker I could hold my ground as much as my liquor. I think I proved my point and got his respect.”

“Walker, of course, should have known. For all it’s worth, yes you did.”

“Good to hear that,” Madison smiled up at Thomas. The smile caused the other to fumble in his steps.

“Lord, help me,” mumbled Thomas has he turned away, face seemingly wanting to stay red. Thomas wasn’t able to small talk anymore.

A few minutes of awkward silence for Thomas, they reached their destination. Like their first meeting, Thomas helped his friend up the stairs and unto bed. “There you go Mr. Madison.”

“I think you can call me James in private, no? It’s the second time you’ve brought me to bed after all,” Madison saucily quipped. Thomas almost spilled the water he was preparing.

“Y-you’re rather forward when drunk aren’t you?”

Madison shrugged, pulling off his shoes. “More to do with the fact that my suspicions were correct, you’re queer. It’s liberating to speak with like-minded individuals, don’t you agree?”

“I’m not-- I, ah - Like-minded? You..?”

“Now I’m more incensed to meet the governor! I admire how daring that he openly has his male lover in his house!”

“It’s not known!”

“How can it not?”

“Lies. A lot of lies. Lies he can’t stop spewing to keep his secret...”

“I see.”

Thomas stood awkwardly before finally having something to say. “I’ll tell the governor that you came by.”

Madison shook his head. “No, please don’t.”

Thomas tilted his head. “Why not?”

“You’ll also need to tell him why I didn’t meet with him, and that I stole away his lover for a spell. I’d prefer if he doesn’t get upset over that.”

“Oh... Well, he’s not... jealous.”

“I’d prefer not taking any chances. He’ll dislike me. In fact, as I ponder, it might be best to avoid our interactions.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I like you a lot- You’re a wonderful man, so open, kind and honest and beautiful... I’ve been wishing to kiss you since we stepped foot here.”

“Please do!” Thomas eagerly came near. Madison chuckled.

“Be wise,” he chided. “I’d like to dodge the ire of the most powerful man in Virginia.”

“I swear he won’t mind. I’ve- Now that you’ve mentioned it, I want to kiss you too. I want that kiss…” Thomas requested petulantly.

Madison stroked his cheek. “Sadly, until I meet the man in person and assess for myself his character, I will stay decent.”

The rejected artist pouted dejectedly. “What if I get a letter from him? Would you then?”

Madison raised his eyebrows at the concept, a light chuckle pushed past his lips. “It seems so much more trouble than just arranging a meeting. I feel you’re hiding something.”

“N-no. It’ll just be easier for me-him! He doesn’t like to meet people.”

“Uh-huh,” Madison hummed.

“I’ll go now. I’ll go get it now, I mean! Then I can have that kiss,” Thomas promised.

Madison gave a tired smile. “Sure, if it’s truthfully from his hand.” He exchanged many letters already with Governor Jefferson. He would be able to detect forgery from the eager architect.

“It will be!”

“Very well. See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You didn’t expect me to wait for you return to your residence, convince your lover and come back here now did you? It would be an hour wait. Dear Thomas, I’m falling asleep now.”

“..Right.. I would have needed to go back home,” Thomas said under his breath. The comment made no sense for Madison, so he ignored it completely.

After a resigned sigh, Thomas bid him au revoir. “Very well, tomorrow then!” Thomas flourished his hand as salutation and left the boarding house in a hurry.

Madison fondly smile at the departure, and laid down to quicken the arrival of the next day.  

OoOoOo

The first thing Thomas did, even before greeting Madison for their lunch break was to hand over a sealed letter. “You’ll need to destroy it afterwards.”

Thomas looked like a perfect mix of excitement and tiredness. Madison gave him a sly smile that meant that he knew that the governor had clearly kept his lover up all night. Madison teased his friend by being slow and careful with the letter. Thomas hands tightened, and he paced around like a child. “I wonder what’s in this. Is it a reply for my last counsels?”

“You know what it is,” whined Thomas.

“Can’t believe you actually had the governor write this,” Madison said while reading. He couldn’t deny that the article was genuine.The handwritten was the same, and notions of forgeries were dispelled when he analyzed the writing style.

The letter was longer than anticipated. It wasn’t just a few words of permission, but proses of Thomas’ affection. It was a clear love declaration, written by a third person. “Oh my,” Madison murmured, overwhelmed. “He’s really intense, with your interest…”  

Madison glanced up at Thomas, and felt the other’s gaze confirmed every word was true.

“Can I have that kiss now?”

Madison swallowed and glanced in every direction for dangerous eyes, before nodding. Their lips touched softly. Madison felt Thomas was hesitant, so he encouraged him for more passion by pulling the other near.

They disengaged before long, sensing it was getting too heated.

“That was great!” Exclaimed Thomas. He had troubled staying in place. Half of him wanted to embrace the shorter man again, while another part wanted to simply bask in the warm feeling that followed the kiss.

Madison beamed at Thomas’ exuberance. “It was.”

“So different than with..” He trailed off.

“Oh? No passion with Governor Jefferson?”

“.. That would be a very strange way to put it. Listen, ah, James?” Thomas tested the name. Madison felt warm from the usage.

“Yes?”

“There something I need to admit…”

“What is it?”

“I.. That is to say. I’m - I want another kiss!” He blurted out.

Madison chuckled at the stutter. “Sorry, you’ve reached your weekly quota,” He teased.

Thomas face dropped, then recovered with a bright smile. “Then that means each week I’ll have one?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“I agree to that, my anticipation will brighten my days until next week.”

Madison laughed out loud at the declaration, then motioned that they should eat lest he upset the other councilmen by returning late. They sat on the ground, backs pressed to the tree, hidden hand intertwined.

oOoOoOo

They continued their lunch meeting. Thomas had convinced Madison to stop insisting in seeing Governor Jefferson. He explained that the governor had a strong distaste in meeting people. In fact, the governor had even given directives that all counsel should be handed in writing instead of in person. The order had been grudgingly accepted by the other councilmen. In the end, they all agreed it was for the best; it avoided to spending time inside the musty and disease-prone old building.

That Sunday, Thomas had invited Madison for a stroll around Richmond after he learned that the other didn’t attend church either. The street were virtually deserted, making their walk pleasantly intimate. They exchange their regular banter, commented on books and complained about the war.

Suddenly, Thomas froze, followed by a straight out panicked. He tried to herd Madison into a store, but it was closed. He banged on the door, bell jingling desperately, it still refused to open.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!”

That’s when he noticed someone running towards them. It was a young page boy, and he was yelling.

“Governor Jefferson! Governor Jefferson!”  It made no sense to Madison. Why would he yell that...

“W-why..?” Madison started. His denial was fighting against the obvious answer.

The boy was holding numerous documents. He skidded to a stop in front of Thomas, bowing to him. “Urgent message Governor Jefferson. I’m really sorry to bother you today, but it requires your immediate attention.”

Gone was the carefree, awkward architect. Instead, his Thomas became a serious man, with hard-set eyes. His demeanor, his tone of voice, everything morphed as he questioned the documents the page held out. He signed them with a vigorous stroke and ordered the page out of his sight.

A breath later, he returned to the person Madison knew.

“I guess the jig is up, right?” Thomas gave him an apologetic smile.

“Y-you’re the governor.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

“You lied!” He tried grab hold of the other man, but Madison retreated a step back.

“I- not quite? Half the time? I, I blurted things out…It got out of hand.”

“You took me for a fool! You ridiculed me.” He whispered-yelled.

“What, no. It wasn’t my intention.”

Madison face was red with anger. The councilman often teased him about his connection with the Governor. He always thought they meant on how they never met, but they were referring to Thomas! He was feeling dizzy, his breath accelerated, his vision troubled.

“James, please calm down…” Again, Thomas reached out, trying to put a comforting hand on the other’s shoulder. Like their first meeting.

Madison shook his hand off, brusquely turned away.  “Leave me alone.”

“James, please…” The few people that meandered down the street gave him inquiring looks. He couldn’t pursue the scorned man without causing a scandalous scene. The smaller man disappeared quickly from his sight, as he stood dumbfounded

OoOoOoO

Madison reached his room in record speed. When he passed the door, he collapsed on the floor, clutching his chest from his lack of breath and pain from the humiliation. He tried calming his breath down, however each time he would hear Thomas’ voice giving him the directive. He lost control, he lost focus, he lost consciousness.

When he came back to his senses, he knew what he needed to do. He picked pen and paper, and wrote. His hand trembled, but his anger spurred him on. He did his best for the text to stay professional.

Satisfied, he left the boarding house to reach the governor's house. His knocking was hard and determined.

It was the same domestic as before, and he stood as confused as the other time. Madison handed him the letter. “For Governor Jefferson, please give it to him promptly.”

“James? James!” It was Thomas calling after him.

Madison turned away in a snap of heel. His arm was caught and he was dragged into the luxurious house. His effort to release himself was in vain, Thomas - No, Governor Jefferson, was stronger. However, once the door was closed, he was free from the hard grasp. Escape was still out of reach, seeing as his captor was standing back pressed to the door.

“Please, let’s talk.”

“Everything I have to say is in my letter of resignation,” Madison said, gesturing to the domestic. The governor wasted no time to dismiss him.

“Resignation... No, please don’t leave!” Governor Jefferson pleaded, eyes moist from unshed tears.

“I’ll continue my task for the next two weeks, while I expect a good letter of recommendation so I can get another position. All the details have been written down in the aforementioned letter of resignation.”

“James, please.”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore, Governor Jefferson!” He snapped, composure waning.

“I’m sorry. Please, how can I make it up to you? Please, if you offer me counsel for two weeks more, tell me what to do. I’m lost without you by my side.”

Madison scoffed at the notion. “You’ve managed well before my arrival.”

“I was miserable. I hate this job. I hate being the governor. I accepted the position out of necessity! I didn’t want to lie; it’s just with you I could forget about my responsibilities for a few moments. I loved being simply Thomas. I didn’t want to let that go. Please, please…” Thomas - The governor had grasped his hands, squeezing them out of desperation, cajoling them to his face.

Madison had to resit to wipe the tears. Instead, he said: “I bid you a good day, sir.” He opened to liberated door and stepped outside.

The morning after, he got to work, writing down his opinions according to the list received. He worked as he promised, offering the same quality. When the church bell rang noon, a knock on his door reminded him of his hunger.

“James?” It was Thomas. He ignored it. “I brought over lunch. It’s good, I swear, I put in less salt this time. James? Fine. I get that you don’t want to see me. Please remember to eat? I’ll be back tomorrow, and the day after! And after!” He heard some shuffling and deemed it safe to retrieve the meal.

As promised, Thomas came back each noon, with the food. He stayed longer each day, detailing the meal or commenting about a book. “I finished the book you lent me. It was fantastic. It was a wonderful suggestion. I brought it back, it’s with the food. I also added another one of the same genre. You can keep it if you like.”

Madison wanted to refuse the gift, however after seeing it,  it was too tempting. The passing days had mollified his anger. He was fiercely missing his friend. The few words Thomas said through the door lit up his day.

When the next knock came the other day, he opened to door. “James! Thank Go-”

“Hush,” Madison ordered. “I want to eat outside. You’re allowed to join. But please be quiet.”

Thomas nodded and followed silently. Madison lead them to the tree where they shared their first and only kiss.

“Did you write my reference letter?”

“I - Yes..” Thomas said dejectedly. He pulled a letter from an inside pocket, and handed it over. Madison didn’t take it.

“I.. Don’t think I’ll be needed it anymore. I’ve been thinking of forgiving you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. So if I do forgive you, I could stay here… “

“Yes! Please, please do.” Madison gave a tight smile.

“I was hurt by your lies.… However, I’m more in pain by your absence.”

“I’m sorry, I-” Madison held his hand up, silencing the other man. He already heard the reasons of the deception. He had come to understand.

“Please accept my apologies for this delayed introduction, and allow me formally present myself. James Madison, at your service sir. You can call me James, if you like.” He held his hand out.

The other man blinked in confusion, and then smiled. “Thomas Jefferson, please call me Thomas.”

They shook hand, and eased in a smile. They took their spots, back pressed to the tree. “So, hum, do I still have my weekly kiss quota?”

Madison stroked his cheek and chastely kissed him.

Once parted Thomas dared to ask: “That was last week’s, right? Do I get another on thi-” In response, Madison pulled on his cravat, crashing their lips together.

“Need an advance?” Madison asked. A winded Thomas nodded, pulling the other near. They exchanged kisses and laughs, until they reasoned it was best to pursue such exchange more privately.  

Please comment :D

[dlmanoir]

Mill Milk (SFW)

TWs/CWs: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, a/b/o dynamics, Omega Verse, Omegaverse, Alpha/Omega, Fluff, Breastfeeding, Pregnancy, Male pregnancy, Mpreg, Pregnant Omega, Established Relationship, Gift Work [READ ON AO3]

Milo's breasts had swollen, and the flesh is now hard and tender. For this reason, he schedules an early appointment with his prenatal clinic. Once there, Milo is faced with quite a challenging Beta woman and a problem of his own. Luckily, his Alpha sticks through all of it with him.

What would he do without Davie? (This is a gift for an amazing friend, and wonderfully talented artist, Shezka. These are her OCs, not mine.

“Milo Conte?”

A small woman called for Milo’s attention from the far end of the room, tearing his eyes from his mate’s phone. His whole body jerked, back as straight as he could manage with the belly in front of him. His heart sank a little, albeit he wasn’t sure why.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Aside from a man and a woman, a sleeping pup in the stroller by their side, and two other women—one of which was pregnant—at the other end of the room, the maternity clinic’s waiting room was nearly empty when Milo and Davie had arrived. And yet, the wait times were long enough that Davie had to take the whole day off to accompany him.

Milo had tried to reassure his Alpha that he could handle this independently, despite the apparent nervousness that now tainted his scent, but Davie had insisted on coming. All in all, he was glad for his mate’s company.

During the wait, Milo had been bold enough to ask the couple if he could look at their pup and, sure enough, his chest had tightened at the sight of the little boy. Asleep. Snug. Tiny. So, so very small. And he smelled so good.

A small blush over the pup’s cheeks gave an almost cherubic glow as he slept on, unbothered when his parents readjusted the little beanie atop his head.

It was both an exciting and frightening sight that had a bout of doubt creeping in the back of his mind. The couple interrupted him in his scrutiny of the pup, gently and quietly to not rouse their baby from sleep, by asking him how far along he was.

“Twenty-nine weeks,” Milo had said.

The woman covered her mouth in delighted awe. The couple smiled reassuringly at him, but Milo frankly didn’t feel all that brave when he thought of the future. Of his future. Of his pup’s future. If not for his timidity, then for all the stories of complications, and unfortunate accidents, his aunties had innocently told him. His imagination was as unforgiving as it was vivid.

“Is that your mate?” The woman pointed to Davie, who’d lost himself in whatever Tik Tok video he came across or the endless scrolling on Twitter and Instagram.

Milo nodded, and the couple shared a few approving murmurs, complimenting the Alpha’s stature and the white patches that painted his skin. Davie was, indeed, quite a sight to behold. Even as he sat there, carefree yet confident, he seemed so imposing. Despite it all, people were drawn to him.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Omega,” the woman told him, her voice a low timbre. Betas, especially women, were so perceptive.

“Yeah,” her mate intoned, “Whatever you’ve heard so far, forget all about it. All the advice you’re gonna get is bullshit. Don’t worry about any of that.”

Milo hadn’t heard that one yet.

They talked about the gender of Milo’s pup. He told them they’d decided they didn’t want to know just yet. They only had a little while longer to wait before they knew for sure anyways. It would be here soon enough.

The other two women were, from what Milo had gathered of their conversation, merely friends. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on them, but they were not discreet; while one of the two appeared content with only sitting and messing with her phone, the other made her irritation quite apparent. The wait ate away at her nerves. She’d been pressed to complain after the last patient had left, but none had been called in.

The secretary at the counter already looked annoyed with her, but she’d politely dismissed the pregnant woman, assuring her that she would be seen shortly. At that, the Beta returned to her seat with a huff and a deep scowl on her face.

Milo had returned to his seat beside his Alpha by the time she’d begun making a fuss. He didn’t want to be caught standing if an anxiety spell took him. Davie ironically blamed her outburst on the pregnancy hormones, and Milo could only agree with him. No matter, however, he’d be ashamed to be caught acting like this, pregnant or otherwise.

He avoided looking in her general direction altogether, but he couldn’t avoid her when his name had been called out. Her attention was on him, and their eyes inadvertently met. His stomach churched. The egg salad sandwich he’d eaten before coming to the clinic sat in his stomach heavy like a rock pile. Oh, how he wished to disappear! But Davie wouldn’t let him.

The Alpha helped him to his feet. Milo’s balance was all over the place with how round he’d become. On the other hand, Davie stood straight and tall, his stature just as well-built and impressive as it had been when Milo had first laid eyes on his mate. Well, that was perhaps a bit of a lie; they’d been eating a lot recently, with the baby and all, and whatever Milo couldn’t stomach because of the baby, Davie would eat for himself. But dear God, was he handsome still. And muscular, with dark eyes that spoke silently to him, reminding him that his Alpha would protect him. Always.

Davie remained calm in the face of his unease, and he had to be thankful for that. He was. How could he have faced the knives in that woman’s stare had his Alpha not been there to guide him?

The little woman, a Beta, who’d called for him gestured for them to follow her down a small corridor full of closed doors on each side. “This way, please.” Unlike traditional hospitals, hundreds of children’s drawings and pictures of previous patients with their newborn bundles decorated the walls. There were cards splayed out with beautiful notes, and ‘thank you’ letters proudly displayed. It seemed the clinic’s staff were quite appreciated.

“Right here, if you please.” They went in through the only open door where a man waited for them inside already.

The doctor wasn’t all too imposing. Medium height. A bit of a belly. His hair was white with only a dash of gray around the temples, short and a little messy. He had large hands for a Beta. He smelled of antiseptic and disinfectant, as most doctors did, but there was a slight hint of earthy tones— like the wet dirt along the shore of frothy waters as it baked under the hot, summer sun. It was peculiar, but not unpleasant.

His nametag read as Dr. Finley Simmons, but he introduced himself regardless. His voice was warm, somewhat welcoming. There was a tiredness in it.

They quickly delved into routine questions: was he eating well? Resting? Had anything stressful been recently introduced into their lives?

All matters of questions Milo answered favourably and with a fair bit of confidence. He was doing well, and Davie was keen to keep him as happy an Omega as could be. His mom thought he wasn’t gaining enough weight, but the doctor didn’t seem all too concerned.

With the questions pushed aside, Dr. Simmons pulled his stethoscope out for a brief physical examination of the belly. The man warmed the tool on the sleeve of his coat for a few seconds, which was a thoughtful gesture that, in all honesty, helped very little. The frost of the object on his belly, and then his chest and back, made him tense up. And the pup in his belly protested too. Milo hated this part, but he settled with a hiss.

“Alrighty, then,” Dr. Simmons said with a final nod. He typed a few keys on the computer, noted a few numbers, and some other information Milo didn’t quite understand. “All clear. Healthy. Baby’s doing just fine, and mama’s healthy,” he muttered under his breath. And then he turned to them with a more receptive look in his eyes.

“If I look here, I can see that you weren’t scheduled for an appointment until next month.”

Davie nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Dr. Simmons was careful not to sound confrontational. He also focused his attention on Davie, surely without meaning to. “Why did you schedule a visit before your next appointment?”

Milo and Davie both hummed, their mouths opening and closing immediately. Davie settled quietly and pivoted slightly in his seat. His eyes turned to Milo as his hand laid on his thigh, heavy but soft and reassuring. Dr. Simmons’s attention instinctively followed the Alpha’s lead, settling on Milo as well. Wouldn’t it be best to let an Omega speak of an issue concerning omegas?

“Hm, I’ve been feeling some,” Milo weighed his words, searching for the least ambiguous term, “Discomfort…”

Dr. Simmons echoed almost dubiously, “Discomfort? What kind?”

“Well, it’s… uh…” Milo gestured vaguely to his chest. “I’m all swollen here. It’s really sensitive, and hard…”

The doctor nodded. “I see,” he said. “Could I get you to take your shirt off for me? We’ll take a closer look.” The question was meant for Milo, but the doctor had looked to Davarius.

With some help from his Alpha, Milo took his shirt off as per the doctor’s request. “I’m fat,” he muttered to Davie contemptuously, “I can’t even take my shirt off on my own anymore…”

The Alpha chuckled and lightly squeezed his arm. “You’re perfect, baby.”

Milo was, in fact, visibly swollen. After donning some latex gloves, the doctor leaned to poke and prod at the affected areas. He tested Milo’s chest for the most sensitive spots, eliciting winces and cringes, and felt for lumps.

Dr. Simmons quickly concluded his examination and sat back in his chair before discarding the gloves. “Keep your shirt off,” he said casually.

“What I think, Mr. Conte, is that you’re currently producing breast milk,” Dr. Simmons explained. The news shocked Milo and puzzled Davie. He added, “It’s rare for Omega men to produce this early, if at all, but it’s not unheard of, and definitely isn’t something you should concern yourself with. Some would say you’re fortunate. I’m going to call in a nurse to show you how to express this build-up. I’d also suggest cold cabbage leaves to soothe any future aches and reduce the swelling.”

“Cabbage leaves?” Davie asked, perplexed.

“Yes, cabbage leaves. Just use the leaves as cold compresses, and throw them out once they’ve gone warm. Was there anything else I could do for the two of you today?”

Davie’s mouth hung open around a question he couldn’t quite formulate. Cabbage leaves? “No. No, I think we’re fine now. Thank you,” he finally said.

“Great. Would you like me to send a Beta or Omega?” Dr. Simmons asked, just as he got up and reached the door.

“A Beta?” Milo answered.

“Very well. I’ll have her in here in just a minute. Have a nice day.”

And with that, Dr. Simmons left the room, closing the door behind him. The next minute seemed an eternity, and Milo wanted to moan in awkward desperation at the ticking clock on the wall. A chill came over his shoulders, making his shiver, and he startled at the press of warm lips to his throat. He leaned in his Alpha’s warmth—he would’ve liked to keep his shirt on while he waited.

“Did you see the way that woman looked at you?” Davie scoffed.

Milo shrank in his seat; the memory unpleasantly sour still. He felt her eyes on him like little ants under his skin, and she wasn’t even in the room with them. He couldn’t even smell her anymore! “Yeah… She looked really mad.”

“Serves her right. They’ll probably see her last.”

Davie was undoubtedly right, although Milo sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be the case. He worried that she’d be waiting in the same seat, with her friend, once they were ready to leave. He wouldn’t blame the nurses for making her linger and stew in her childishness as long as they reasonably could, but he didn’t want to cross her path again.

“Hey, look here,” Davie’s hand moved from his thigh to squeeze the back of his neck. “If you want, I’ll glare right back at her. See how she likes that.”

Milo shook his head, disconcerted. “No! It’s fine!” If he were honest, his Alpha wasn’t the friendliest looking of the bunch, and Milo had experienced first-hand with the influence he could exert on others. His mate could be as frightening as he was beautiful. If Davarius were to glare at a pregnant woman, or even a pregnant Omega, trouble would surely ensue. It wasn’t worth the trouble. “Besides… She’d probably shit her pants.”

“Damn right, she would, baby!” Davie boasted a proud laugh, his ego rightful flattered, and pulled Milo towards him.

They nuzzled against each others’ throats, against the marks that bonded them, and where Milo could take a deep, relaxing drink of his Alpha’s scent. The door gave a soft click, revealing to them an African-American woman, a Beta, with an average build and sleek hair that, despite the high ponytail, fell to the middle of her back.

She gave a small ‘ oops! ’ in a feigned scandal at the sight of them, but entered nonetheless. Catching them like this had brought a cheeky, little grin full of mischief on her lips.

She introduced herself. “My name is Yelena Austin, and Dr. Simmons sent me because of a little milk-expressing issue going on?” she said, recapitulating what she knew of the situation. And then something playful shone in her eyes. One of her eyebrows arched when she said, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

Her voice had a beautiful right to it. Light, but lively. A little deep, nasally. It was hard for Milo to feel any sort of reservation in her regards. And her smile! Even if he’d immediately averted his eyes, he’d caught sight of it, and found it striking. She had full lips with a beautiful shape. A pointy chin, high cheekbones. A little face. Long eyelashes, and big, round eyes. They were so vivid a green, or maybe they simply stood out by the darkness of her skin?

Nevertheless, Milo’s face heated up, and he squeezed his hands between his thighs.

“I’m gonna guess you’re the lucky mama?” She gestured to Milo, and he nodded. “And you already took your shirt off! Perfect. We’re going to be able to get right into it!”

But they didn’t really ‘get right into it.’ First, she sat beside them and asked the same questions Dr. Simmons had asked all over again. She inspected Milo the same as the doctor had— why consult a doctor if only to consult a nurse again? Then she gave them a few options as to how to handle the situation, and determine their level of comfortability. The prospect of having Davie wait outside was quickly pushed aside. When they had decided, she redirected them to the examination table where she had Davarius sit with Milo in his lap. Though she was certainly confident in her ability to work with Omegas as a Beta, they were easier to work with when near their bonded Alphas was simply undeniable.

“This will be a bit of a couple’s activity, assuming you’re both in a maternity class?” she said.

Davie chuckled, “Yup. I’m used to the extra weight!”

Milo elbowed him at that, cutting the Alpha’s breath short. There was no sign of irritation in Milo’s scent, but he couldn’t let his mate get away with these kinds of jokes. The nurse didn’t seem to mind at all. She must’ve thought them endearing like this.

Milo was a perfect fit in Davarius’s lap, although he didn’t exactly feel like he was. Even fat with pup, his belly distended, Davie eclipsed in in sheer bulk. The Alpha towered over him.

“Comfy?” the nurse asked, capturing Milo’s attention with her bright smile.

Milo nodded enthusiastically.

Yelena was evident in her instructions, readily showing how she intended to have Davie hold Milo. She told him to gently wrap a hand around the Omega’s breast, stressing that they shouldn’t rush this. “Consider this sort of like bonding time! You two can be close, which is great for the baby, and daddy gets to participate in the maternity.”

“Yay! I get to be pregnant too!” Davie said light-heartedly.

His good humour earned him a laugh from the nurse, and Milo gave him an amused sniff.

“We got a joker over here,” the nurse said, “That’s good—we can do with a good laugh sometimes.”

Milo intoned, “You don’t wanna be pregnant. You gotta pee every five goddamn minutes.”

The nurse laughed and sympathized. Her mannerism was comforting. If not for her tone’s lightness, her easy-going speech pattern, then for the slight edge of clean, soapy smell that wafted off of her when the outer corners of her eyes creased with glee. Otherwise, she too smelt heavily of antiseptic.

“Now, without rushing, Alpha, please apply a little bit of pressure. Just press down lightly on the whole breast at an upwards angle.”

Milo hissed, the sharp sting almost instantaneous, and Davie recoiled in response to his augmented discomfort. The pain took a little while to subside, and Milo rocked with it. Even when there was nearly no pressure, his chest still throbbed with a dull heat.

“It hurts too much,” Milo said through clenched teeth.

“I’m afraid there isn’t much to be done about the pain, Omega. You’ll just have to push through it,” Yelena told him. She wasn’t condescending, more so apologetic perhaps. “Can you do that for me?”

After a moment of hesitation, Milo nodded, and Davie moved again, hands back on his chest. Nothing had happened yet, but the anticipation made Milo cringe, and he shifted nervously in his mate’s lap. Milo pushed himself back against Davie’s muscled chest, the leather jacket cool against his naked back, and shrugged his shoulders as he braced for the oncoming pang. It was evident the nurse disapproved of the way he tensed up, but she said nothing about it.

“Alpha, please try again,” she said, her tone lower, calmer than they’d heard it yet.

Unlike Dr. Simmons, Yelena searched for Milo’s eyes when she addressed him, rather than focusing on Davie. “You have to push through. Being a mother is no small job. If you want a healthy pup, you gotta be strong, okay?”

What a dreadful thought that was! And yet… it filled him with a strange sense of determination, some parental instinct that had never left them as a species . He knew that, ultimately, she was right. He had to give all of himself over to this pup, and there was nothing he wanted more than that—he had Davarius already. Now he wanted his child.

“O-okay,” Milo said to Davie, head tilted towards the Alpha behind him. “You can do it…”

Davie took this opportunity to place a quick kiss to the shell of his ear, and then came the progressive press of his hand. It sent piercing jolts through Milo, and he clenched his fists over Davie’s thighs.

He was drawn back to the nurse when she lifted his chin from just the fingers’ tip. Milo didn’t mind the touch, although nurses and doctors often preferred to be careful in the presence of their patients’ mates. Milo whined when their gaze met, and she gave him a warm smile he tried to reciprocate.

“You’re doing so good. You’ll see, once you get it, it’ll be much easier,” she said. “Just keep breathing.”

Milo hadn’t realized he’d swallowed a deep breath deep in his lungs and kept it there.

Yelena then shifted to Davie, her expression a bit sterner than she’d shown Milo. She told him to pinch at his nipple, showing him exactly how she intended him to.

Milo conceded, he admired the way she controlled her voice, as well as the situation. She was soft when she spoke to him, supportive and almost playful even, but she was different when it came to Davie. And yet, she didn’t come off as cold. She simply understood their needs, how they wished to be addressed and worked efficiently to ease their nerves.

Milo was comfortable with her in front of him. In pain, but comfortable.

A dissociative sensation overcame Milo when Yelena worked with Davie, though. His ears buzzed with a high-pitched ring that slowly drowned out the sound of their voices. He could only concentrate on physical sensations.

As a searing heat spread through him, a whine catching in his throat, his mind drifted from the pain. Pleasant warmth pressed against his back, and a delightful scent enveloped him. Oh, the pain was still there, but it was concealed by the moist breath that brushed his shoulder, hot air curling over his skin, and the sound of his mate’s breathing close to his ears. The pattern, the cadence, the rhythm which ruled over Davie… He wanted to match it.

Milo closed his eyes, breathing deep. He focused on the thumping heartbeat against his back as he picked the tempo apart. He’d hold his breath strategically, exhaling to fall in tune with the Alpha.

His body relaxed, breath evening, as his mate steadied him. He basked in the warmth that seeped through him. He let Davie’s scent invade his senses. Potent. Spicy. Sharp. Peppery. It prickled his nose and tickled in his throat. It was focused and controlled. Not too much, not too little. He loved this scent and how it made every inch of him quake with anticipation. It was unlike anything he’d ever smelt before.

Wild. But also secretly human and domestic. Like an abandoned house that had been reclaimed by the meadow surrounding it. Milo could picture it. The broken-down car covered in greenery. The shattered windows, forgotten by time. The smell of rotten wood and the new life that sprouted from it. And yet, traces of civilization, a small stack of tires that the wilderness couldn’t claim. So it grew around it.

The Alpha’s scent was a quick getaway, somewhere Milo would go where he could be alone without really feeling isolated. He was close to something primal when he went there. Close to his roots.

Could he…

Could he kiss Davie? Here? Now?

He sure as Hell tried, absent-mindedly, to tilt his head and nuzzle at the underside of Davie’s chin. Almost begging for the attention, the affection he craved from his Alpha. His mate held him in a tight embrace, but Milo was determined. He desired more; he wanted to look into those dark, all-consuming eyes glaring down at him.

“Milo…? Milo?” Davie’s voice eventually cut through the haze.

His sight regained its focus, Milo’s attention directed back to Davie and then to Yelena, who still watched over them. The crimson that had barely begun to dissipate from his cheeks flared up again when he saw her smiling at him. It said plenty, plenty that Milo didn’t want her to know.

“You’re staring pretty hard, baby,” Davie said simply.

Milo lowered his eyes; shame splayed all over his face. He flushed down to his shoulders. Both Davie and the nurse chuckled softly, finding him endearingly entranced perhaps, and it lessened his humiliation. He gave the nurse a sheepish smile.

“You’re doing good, Omega. This isn’t so bad, now is it?” she said with a light-hearted tone. “You’ll be able to cuddle your Alpha all you want soon enough.”

Out of respect for the Beta, he silently agreed to set these passions for later, within their little home’s privacy. Not that waiting pleased him. As if he’d sensed this, Davie leaned his chin over Milo’s shoulder, sending a delightful shiver down Milo’s spine at the graze of the man’s facial hair—a slightly affectionate yet discrete gesture. The warmth of the Alpha’s cheek then rested against his ear to hum a low tune he didn’t readily recognize. It soothed him.

“I love you,” Davarius murmured to his ear, and even timbre matching his hum.

Everything in Milo vibrated, the words sent a tingle through him that had him stretching his toes against the inside of his shoes, and he smiled a bashful smile. He would’ve replied in kind, but a piercing sting shot through his breast and no amount of ticklish euphoria he felt by his Alpha’s touch could keep him from smarting.

A tiny pearl of translucent off-white moisture had formed at the very tip of his nipple, which sent a fire burning through him, and he couldn’t bite back the whimper that left him. Davie relinquished his hold of Milo’s breast.

The nurse chided him, a gasp catching in her lungs, “Oh! No, no, no! Keep going! It’s almost here!”

Milo hissed when the hands returned to squeeze him. The searing spread from the teat and through the rest of his chest. All of his nerves ignited, and for that, Milo didn’t notice the first droplets leaking from him. He avoided looking down for fear he might see something he wasn’t ready to see just yet—he remembered one of his aunties retelling of a friend who’s breast milk was tainted with blood. Still, he couldn’t ignore the wetness as it trickled from between Davie’s fingers and towards his middle section, the trail coming dry just as it rolled down the baby bump.

The collective excitement between the nurse and Davie was very telling of the situation. For one, Davie’s eyes shone with a child’s fascination. On the other hand, the nurse scrambled out of her seat to pull a roll of paper towels from the cabinets under the small sink. “Oh, towels! I have towels. Not to get your pants dirty because this stuff will stain!” she said with comical emphasis after handing Milo a square.

“Just keep going until the milk starts to thin,” she then said, and Davie did as he was told. “The more you do it, the less it’ll hurt. You get used to it pretty quickly.”

The nurse spoke the truth because the pain was already dissipating. What had once been a fire raging under his skin was no more than a dull throbbing with a slight tinge of feverish heat that left his flesh tender.

In mere minutes, Milo was handed a cold compress to soothe the residual soreness before moving to the other breast. And the process was to be repeated all over again, albeit he didn’t suffer as much.

The swelling went down almost entirely. Once Milo was content with the results, and after Davie had had a taste for himself—what an embarrassing ordeal that had been—Yelena led them back to the waiting room. Just as Milo had fear, the agitated woman from earlier still waited with her friend, and the couple. A new patient, a lone Omega man with only a small bump, sat where Milo and Davis had previously been.

Milo’s eyes went straight to the woman, however, and he shrunk in on himself. She looked furious, her face one full shade darker than when he’d last seen her.

Unaffected by the pregnant woman’s behaviour, the nurse directed them to the front desk where she and the receptionist reviewed their visit. They received a small pamphlet on breastfeeding and some paperwork they filled out together and rescheduled their next appointment. They were left with the receptionist to finish up while the nurse called another name.

Every head perked at attention, and the pregnant woman stood reflexively, only to sink back down into her seat when she realized she hadn’t been called at all. It was the Omega man who’d been called, and he suffered the same eyes full of malice Milo had suffered.

Milo’s skin crawled for that poor Omega. Bitch has some serious issues, he thought, emboldened by the Omega’s apparent indifference towards the woman. And yet…

“Don’t pay attention to her,” Davarius said, low for him alone to hear. He laid a large hand over the nape of Milo’s neck and kneaded the skin.

Milo let out a shuddering breath filled with tension as his muscles slowly relaxed. He couldn’t relax completely, though, as Davie took to staring the woman down! He wasn’t discreet at all. How typically bold of an Alpha.

Once their business was taken care of, the receptionist bid them farewell with a smile and a wave. Leaving the clinic instantly lifted a massive weight off Milo’s shoulders—and his chest—as the fresh air replaced the angry woman’s scent. Davie tugged him into a warm hug as they walked to the car, kissed the top of his head, and hummed approvingly. The stressed unease in Milo’s scent was dissipating.

“Let’s go home, baby,” Davie said.

Milo nodded, leaning heavily on his Alpha for support as he walked. He could go for a nap right about now. That is if the baby allowed it. As long as they were home, he didn’t care.

Home. In their little nest.