#the ink bleeds through the paper and it's a mess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thepenultimateword · 2 years

Text

Eyeteeth Part Four

I gotta say, this is probably one of my favorite stories I've written on tumblr. Thank you to the person who requested part one. When I first started writing, I wasn't sure I could fulfill the request, but soon enough I was completely in love with it.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

CW: Gore, death, killing, destruction

Civilian smashed spine-first into the barstools, toppling two down on top of them with a bruising clang that was immediately lost in the cacophony of screaming people and breaking stone. They coughed on the flakes of drywall raining down from the blasted wall, blinking white flecks from their lashes.

As they slowly lifted their head, the crumpled frame of their glasses slid askew down their nose, a cracked lense on the right and an entirely missing one on the left leaving them half-blind. Yet, even squinting, the mess of rubble and terror around them was crystal clear.

The little diner, a warm, bustling place only seconds ago, was no more. One wall was completely destroyed, covering the ground in broken brick and shattered glass. The force of the blast had split the U-shaped countertop into several pieces, only a single chunk left intact. They should be grateful one of those massive slabs hadn’t landed on top of them. The thought came dazedly as Civilian stared numbly at the limp and bleeding figure pinned in front of them.

“What a dismal little place,” croaked a masculine voice, deep and grating like the very mountains scraping together. "Is this where people go for respite these days?"

Civilian cranked their neck toward the sound, but one glimpse into those coal-black eyes, and they wished they hadn't. Invisible fire flooded their nervous system, burning their insides to hot, nauseating jelly and reducing them to a shuddering heap against the gritty tile.

Yet, as soon as the pain passed, they dared look again--they weren't getting out of this by cowering-- but this time more carefully.

The man--if he even could be called such looking so barely human--hovered a couple feet in the air, toes pointed downward, the blackened ends of his paper white feet just shy of brushing the destruction. He wore a tattered white robe that hung limp and oversized on his skeletal form. Somehow the ill fit came across more disturbing than ridiculous. Darkness spread through his veins, as if they were filled with tar instead of blood, and subsequently, the deep hollows of his cheeks were colored charcoal instead of pink. And those eyes...

Civilian was careful not to meet them directly this time, but they seemed almost crossed out, violent black slashes cutting through them and inking the irises dark before continuing upward and bleeding across his shorn scalp.

An ancient. And a corrupted one at that.

The amount of ancient sorcerers that still existed was in the hundreds, many of them stretched thin by infinite existence. They craved power like a parched man thirsted for water. A yearning to fill the empty parts of them that could never be satiated. At least that was what the books said. The rune bracelet had only been a precaution, a barrier to shield Hero's magery from bigger fish, but never in any of Civilian's dreams had they thought they might see one of those ancients face to face.

Wait. Hero. Where was hero?

Civilian's eyes skimmed the room rapidly until they spied the shock of red hair peeking out from the rubble a few feet away. They weren't moving.

Civilian crawled forward, the muscles in their limbs screaming at being used so soon after such a vicious attack. It didn't matter. Even if it left Civilian permanently damaged, it didn't matter. They needed to reach Hero.

They clawed at the floor, ignoring the glass chunks embedding in their palms as they dragged against the weight on their back. A couple more desperate pulls forward, and the barstools slowly shifted, landing on floor instead of flesh.

Civilian yearned to catch their breath, just that small effort had them winded and agonized, but stopping wasn't an option.

"Where are they?" the ancient said, almost a sort of raspy sing-song. "I can feel their presence. I can hear their blood. It sings to me."

Civilian reached Hero's arm, grasping the child's shoulder with one trembling hand.

"H-Hero."

Why was their voice so small? Was the growing terror in the chest blocking off their throat? Their chest shuddered a little as they summed up another attempt. "Hero."

They struggled into an upright position and pulled at them with as much force as their weak muscles would allow, cradling the top half of their body in their lap. No response.

Civilian's fingers slid numbly along their throat, searching for a pulse. When they steady, thud, thud, thud beat against their fingertips, they almost fell back in relief. Alright. Hero was alright. Now for the other panicked question: where was Villain?

"Oh, what providence. You found them."

Civilian's head shot up, barely dodging the ancient's direct gaze before they could recollapse into another helpless pile of pain. They fixed their eyes on an ugly black splotch in the middle of their forehead, like a rot spot in a piece of fruit. They clutched hero tighter, leaning over their body to shield them from view.

"You can't have them," Civilian croaked.

The ancient sucked in a long breath of air, nostrils flaring. "Hm. Mortal. What could you use them for? Their blood is little more than water for the likes of you."

"They're mine." Civilian wasn't sure what they were saying, but it slipped out anyway.

The ancient stiffened.

"How dare you," they whispered under the breath, as if taking a moment to taste the offense. Then louder, "How dare you! A mortal laying claim against ancient right?"

The light bulbs popped over head, a shower of sparks sprinkling the air for a matter of seconds before the entire diner was bathed in darkness. Those still conscious screamed again.

A cold chill, like a set of longer, icy fingers curling around their esophagus, clutched Civilian's throat, holding their next breath captive.

Civilian squeaked. Tears sprung to their eyes as they struggled to force the breath out their mouth but could not. What an idiot they were. They dreamed of adventure, of daring fights, and brilliant scholarship in the face of death. They thought they were so important and brilliant helping a real life hero, but when it came down to it they were simply a librarian. An insignificant mortal just like the ancient said. They felt better about their averageness by butting into matters that had nothing to do with them, but that didn't magically make them a hero.

They were going to die.

A deep growl ripped the air, feral, guttural, and loud enough to make Civilian's ears pound. A flash of bottle green streaked across the dark, and all at once the breath burst out of Civilian's throat.

They gagged, coughing so violently they might actually puke. After several seconds, they wiped a string of saliva on their sleeve and squinted in the little bit of light streaming in from the streetlamps at the scene in front of them.

Villain clung to the ancients front, claws sunk into their shoulders and teeth sunk deep into their jugular. Tarry blood burbled from the wound, staining Villain's lips and gushing down the front of the ancient's white robes.

The ancient's mouth gaped, seemingly in pain, but then, in a moment, an explosion of power burst out of them, accented with a high pitched shriek similar to a kettle boiling over.

Civilian closed their eyes against the new wave of flying dust and rubble. When they opened them next, Villain was on the ground.

"You insignificant fleabag!" the ancient cried, choking and gurgling on blood.

Civilian almost cried out, but Villain was back on their feet quicker than they could form the sounds. Their eyes glowed strangely, as if in direct contrast to the shadowed curtain the ancient pulled over all of them.

The ancient stretched forth their hand, but Villain was already crouched to the floor before the invisible wave of destruction punched a smoking hole through the back wall. Then they were several feet in the air when the next blow, blasted the title to smithereens.

Premonitory ability, Civilian thought in awe.

Villain was on the ancient once again, claws raking down their belly,. They pulled them from the sky like a stubborn star, pinning them against the floor with a sharp crack of breaking floor.

"Their eyes!" Civilian heard themself shriek. "Take their eyes!"

Without hesitation, Villain clawed up the ancient's chest and, stretching their jaws wide, scraped those long fiamora eyeteeth across their face.

The ancient wailed with the same tone of the howling wind. But this time no explosion of power protected them. Ancient mages used to concentrate their power and life force into one part of their body, an efficient way to channel power if not a significant Achilles heel. The corruption around this particular ancient's eyes had given Civilian a pretty good guess as to what part of their body they preferred casting with. Not that it would hold them back permanently. They were still a magically blooded being.

"Now their head!" Civilian cried next. "They can't die unless you take their head."

Villain did more than that.

Civilian buried their head into Hero's body, wishing they could block out the wet tearing of flesh and the crunch of breaking bones.

A heavy silence drew thick over the building.

Civilian peered up, glasses barely hanging to the end of their nose by this point. A gory, clawed hand stretched out in front of them. They slowly raised their eyes to Villain's face. Their front was absolutely soaked in gore, and Hero's concealing enchantment had worn off, leaving the pair of menacing saberteeth jutting over the lip and glistening with blood.

Civlian swallowed the bout of nausea tossing their stomach and gathering hero closer against them, accepted the offered hand with trembling fingers.

Villain immediately pulled them close. Their tail wrapped tight around their thigh and their other clawed hand braced around the back of their neck, clasping both Civilian and Hero against them.

"I'm sorry," they said licking Civilian's grimy hair a couple times before pressing a careful kiss to their head, "I'm sorry. I had to let them see you. It was the only way I saw that ended with all of us alive."

Understanding slowly seeped through Civilian's skull. Villain had waited to attack. They waited until the ancient was distracted with something else. With Civilian.

Civilian body racked violently. They heard heavy sobbing, but they didn't realize it was their own until Villain's clawed finger wiped away the hot tears blurring their vision, leaving a long streak of chilly ancient blood along their cheekbone.

"I needed to keep you safe," Villain said, almost a plea. "Both of you."

They knew, didn't they? They knew exactly what Civilian felt toward them in this moment. And that knowledge was almost more painful than the ancient's attacks.

***

"All tucked in," Villain said.

They were waiting in the living room when Civilian came out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in a clean university sweatshirt and pair of sweats. Their spare pair of glasses were a little too tight and pressed uncomfortably into their temples, but they were just glad they could see clearly again.

Civlian stared at Villain for several long moments, imprinting this clean, wet-haired version of them across the last gory memory. They had always known what fiamora could do; they'd written an extensive chapter on bloodshed, both hunting and territorial rights, in their thesis. But it was very different seeing it in person.

Those fangs did not have the potential to kill. They did kill.

Maybe they stared to long because Villain said quietly, "Civilian?"

Civilian jolted to attention. "Right. Thank you. Did they wake up at all?"

Villain shook their head, twisting the hem of their borrowed t-shirt and flinching when their claws made little holes. "No. But they will. If they weren't, I would feel it."

Civilian nodded.

It had not seemed a good idea to bring Hero home to their family unconscious and covered in building dust. It wouldn't have only exposed Hero's crime-stopping stint but could have also brought up a heap of troubling questions as to why Hero had been with Civilian in the first place. There was also Villain in the mix, making things even more complicated. In the end, they'd come to Civilian's apartment. Villain had cleaned up first, seeing as they were covered in blood, and Civlian had sat shuddering in the kitchen with Hero spread awkwardly across their tabletop. Once Villain returned, they'd quickly slipped off to the bathroom themself, hoping the hot water and some clean clothes would kick their nerves straight.

They still felt on the point of breaking down, but at least they could look Villain straight in the face again. They could recite to themselves all the things they loved about them. Bottle-green eyes, wild untamable hair, fluffy ears, gorgeous, sharp eyetee--

Civilian stopped short as they remembered those teeth taking out the ancient's eyes in one bite. Instead, they focused on Villain's outfit. Also sweats, but topped with an oversized t-shirt with a brightly colored bookshelf printed across the front and captioned LIBRARY SQUAD. A leftover from the book club Civilian had tried and failed to create at the school a couple years ago. Also, since there was no tailored opening in the pants, Villain had stuffed their tail down one leg, and it thrashed against the fabric every so often like an uncomfortable snake. Civilian couldn't help but smile a little. It was sort of funny seeing Villain dressed so casually, in Civilian's own clothes no less. It was intimate and warm, and Civilian probably would have liked it much better if it wasn't just following a near-death experience.

Villain smiled cautiously in return. "Um, I figured you'd want them somewhere comfortable, so I put them in your room. Is that alright?"

"In my room?" Civilian repeated numbly. Stupid. Of course. It wasn't like they owned another bed. "Ah. Yes. Of course. I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

If they could even sleep at all. They didn't know if they could get that ancient inhuman body and ghastly eyes out of their head. Just like fiamora, they knew these things existed, but...how did they go on knowing they could come in at any moment and kill them all in eyeblink?

Villain's claws brushed Civilian's elbow, green eyes flicking up to meet theirs. "Would you...like some company?"

Civilian's heart pounded faster. Villain was dangerous. They knew it more than ever. But...did that actually change how they felt about them?

They shoved the scent of blood and the sound of crunching bone to the back of their mind.

"Sure."

Villain nodded evenly, but the relief in their expression was almost palpable. "Do you have a first aid kit, I think we're both a little more beat up than planned."

"Heh." Civilian rubbed their sore palms together. "Just a moment."

They went off the kitchen to retrieve the little tin box under the sink, a tray of ice cubes, and a box of ziplock bags. When they returned, Villain was sitting crisis cross at the center of their couch, watching the door anxiously for Civilian's return.

"Come here," Civilian said, sitting across from them and shaking a few ice cubes into a ziplock bag. Villain leaned in a little, and Civilian held the bag gently to a large purple bruise forming across Villain's brow bone.

Keeping their head bent into Civilian's touch, Villain popped open the first aid tin and fished out an ointment tube and bandages. They dolloped a drop of syrup scented ointment across their fingers and gently massaged it into Civilian's free hand, careful not to nick them with the sharp points of their claws. When they finished off with some bandages, Civilian switched the hand holding the ice pack, and let them treat the other hand as well.

"You're very frightened of me now, aren't you?" Villain said, peeling back the wrapper on a bandaid and pressed the clean cotton middle to a particularly nasty slice on the heel of Civilian's hand.

Civilian felt sick.

"It was a frightening experience," they said slowly. "I...I don't think you did anything wrong... I'm just a little shaken."

It wasn't as if Villain was the only one with a part to play in this death either.

"I'm the one who told you what to do."

Maybe that was what bothered them most of all. Not the bloodshed itself, but that they had been capable of directing it. Wasn't it wrong to hurt someone? Was it wrong that they had known how to do it? Maybe they were studying the wrong things.

"Civilian," Villain said, maybe hearing the sickness in their tone. "You were only protecting yourself. Protecting everyone. Hero. Those people. Me."

Civilian swallowed hard on a lump of emotion forcing its way into the open.

Villain continued. "That thing was out for blood. You know more than I do about people like that. Tell me honestly, do you think we could have reasoned with him?"

"No." Their voice croaked pathetically. "He would have killed Hero no matter what. As well as anyone who got in his way."

"And you stood up to him anyway." Villain stroked their arm up and down soothingly.

"Only because Hero... They were going to..." They took a deep breath. "Villain, if that kid died, I don't know what I would do."

"And me?"

Those green eyes seemed to pin them to spot, making it hard for Civilian to breathe.

"I haven't known you that long," Civilian said quickly, ducking their head toward their lap.

"I know," Villain said. "I don't expect you to be as dedicated to me as you are Hero. But out of curiosity..."

Civilian thought about it a minute. Imagined how they'd feel tonight if Villain hadn't survived their fight with the ancient. If they weren't safe and sound across from now.

'"I would be very upset. For a very long time. In fact, I'm not sure if I'd ever get over it."

Silence.

Civilian flicked their gaze back up to Villain to see the fiamora staring at them, mouth parted, beautiful eyes wide.

"That deep?" they murmured.

Civilian flushed a little, shoving at their spectacles even though they were already firmly in place. "Apparently."

Villain was just a name a few months ago. A faceless fiamora to build tactics against, but now they were a person. Civilian's person. And they'd protected Civilian with their life.

Civilian leaned in closer, eyeing Villain's fangs carefully, mentally measuring a safe spot to aim for. Then they pressed a gentle kiss to Villain's lips.

They pulled back just a little to see Villain's expression, but no sooner did they catch the violent twitch of Villain's ears and the fiamora was tangling their claws in their hair and pulling them in a second time.

The flat of Villain's right fang skimmed their lips, sending a shiver down Civilian's spine, but Villain was very careful, never letting the points touch them. Of course, a creature with such deadly teeth would know how to maneuver them.

When the kiss ended, Civilian found themself somehow leaning against the arm of their couch, Villain sprawled comfortably on top of them. The ice pack lay forgotten and melting on the floor.

"Um." Villain shifted a little, resting their head against Civilian's chest. "Is this ok?"

Civilian nodded. They actually felt safer this way. If only their face wasn't so traitorously warm right now.

"W-why don't you tell me about these ancient things. I know about fiamora ancients, but I didn't know it was possible for a human to become one."

"Was that a stutter?" Civilian said.

"What? No. A catch in my throat."

"You're nervous too." Civilian had no idea why that was so satisfying.

"Of course I am, you're so close. N-now tell me the lore."

Civilian grinned. "It's thought that every mage has the potential to reach immortality through a natural increase of their power over time. Unlike fiamora, human mages are naturally inclined to a shorter lifespan, so they have to reach a level of power where their magic is strong enough to keep their body from declining. It's like they flip a switch in their natural make up that turns everything more permanent. Usually, this would be a sign of purity, the hard work taken to naturally develop one's magic, but many corrupted ancients received immortality by forcefully consuming the power of other mages. However, once they consume another mage's power, they must keep consuming it. Another's magic is like a drug, and they become addicted. Back in the day, there were sacrificial rituals of young mages to corrupt ones. In fact, there was one city that was so culturally influenced that--"

They stopped short with a loud gasp.

"What?" Villain said, cupping their longer eyetooth and raising their head a little to look Civilian's chest up and down, as if worried they might have knicked them with a fang point.

"My book." Civilian threw their head back against the arm rest with a long groan. "I left it in the diner. Do you think it's alright?"

Villain sighed in relief and snuggled back in. "Is that all?"

"'Is that all?'" Civilian repeated furiously. "Do you know how valuable--"

"Shhh," Villain said, wrapping their arms tightly around Civilian's waist. "I know. I'll go look for it in the morning. But for now, keep talking."

Civilian pouted a moment, but eventually, they fell back into their explanation. They stopped every once in a while, thinking that Villain might have been bored to sleep, but then the fiamora would pipe in with a question or a simple, "What else?"

Each time, Civilian warmed inside and went on, talking and talking until their eyes were too heavy to keep open and words felt like sludge in their mouth.

The night's bad images faded to the fringes of their mind, and they drifted softly into sleep.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany

#civilian x villain #villain x civilian #heroes and villains #writing snippet #hero x villain #creative writing #villain #heroes and villains community #human x monster #superheroes and villains #monster x protagonist

247 notes · View notes

glamoureddreamer · 1 year

Text

Memories

Bendy and the ink machine (Sammy Lawrence x Reader)

Warnings: blood/gore, violence (please let me know if I’ve missed anything)

Thank you everyone! I hope you all have a fantastic day and a great night!

(Y/n) wanders the upper halls, listening to every small noise. The rustle of papers- freeze, the creaking of wood- stop.

Drips echoed through the halls, from the ink and her open wound. She was looking for supplies and didn’t see the lost one. It had got her good.

Thankfully she wasn’t far from the music department, inside the music department was the medical station. Hopefully, it would have something to at least stop the bleeding.

She holds onto the wall using it to balance herself, fuck a wound on your stomach was annoying. It felt like she couldn’t walk, though she pushed through and walked up the stairs. She was determined not to die.

She enters the music department the lights were on low making it harder to see. She stumbles her way toward the medical station.

She holds onto a desk rummaging through it, trying to search for a bandage. Once she finds a nice big roll she smiles. She grabs it shakily and closes the drawer. She finds a chair and drops into it, she nearly fell over. She pulled up her shirt and examined the cut.

Thankfully it wasn’t that large but it was just deep enough to cause problems. She messily wraps the bandage around her stomach. She made it as tight as she could, which hurt a lot more than she thought it would.

She stays there for a moment relaxing. She takes deep breaths trying to ease the pain. After a while she stood up, the bandage did help.

She leaves the medical station and heads back to the stairs. She had originally planned to leave though, the upper levels were safer. Not to mention there were no doubt more resources and she had lost a lot to the lost one. She turns around and walks back into the music department.

She searches around for tools she could use. She opens a crate. It was a crate full of posters, she picks one up examining it. She opens it and freezes in her spot.

These posters were ones she had created. They were for the music department and the face of the music department himself, Samuel Lawrence. He looked happy on the front cover.

Though she knew him personally and he wasn’t happy often unless he was at home. However he was always nice and happy around her. Memories play through her mind of a better time. Sammy always walked her out to her car. How he always got nervous around her. Him yelling about the pipes and only (Y/n) was able to calm him. She sets the poster down and gave it a small sad smile.

She turns around to be face to face with a lost one. It jumps on her before she could prevent it. She cries out as it pushes on her open wound. It tried to attack her neck but she pushes its head away.

She tried kicking it but nothing worked. Ink drips onto her, she hoped it didn’t leak into her open wound but that was the least of her concern. Right as it drew closer from her arms getting weak, it froze screaming out in pain. Before it drips weakly on her body.

(Y/n) scrambles away from the body, she looks up at the cause of the lost one’s death. It was another lost one, though he held an axe with ink dripping from it. It also wore a bendy mask that was beaten up and covered in ink and dirt. It holds its hand out. She hesitated taking it. It had just saved her, surely it could be trusted. Once she did it helped her off the ground.

“Are you okay?” It asked, the voice sounded so familiar. Yet she couldn’t place it. She nods a little, and the lost one brushes his hand over her wound. She hisses in pain, he pulls his hand away immediately.

“Follow me I can take you somewhere safe.” The lost one helped lead her to a small office. It did look safe but it was also a mess, clearly living here wasn’t the best. Though it was better than nothing.

It sits her down on a makeshift cot. It grabs bandages from its own small storage as (Y/n) looks around the office still. It gently unravels the messily done bandages and slowly begins to replace them.

“Why are you helping me?” She asked quietly. It had been so quiet it felt as if she had to be quiet. The lost one looked up, the mask was a little unsettling but it saved her it is safe so she pushed it aside.

“Don’t you remember me?” It asked. She only tilted her head.

“I suppose I don’t look quite like my old self, it’s me, Samuel.”

(Y/n) felt her world freeze, she covered her mouth.

“Sammy?… Oh my god is it really you?” She asked tears coming to her eyes. Sammy chuckled and nods but before he could respond she pulls him into a tight hug.

She ignores the pain in her abdomen, shoving her face into his inky shoulder not caring.

“I missed you.” She said her voice wavering. Sammy hugs her rubbing her back.

“I missed you too (Y/n).”

#batim fanfiction #batim sammy #sammy lawrence #Samuel Lawrence #sammy lawrence x reader #batim fandom #batim fic #batim lost ones #batim x reader

132 notes · View notes

moonwalker94writes · 2 years

Text

Woollen

“Love?” He knocked softly on the door to the study. “I brought you a cuppa. Remus?”

Sirius opened the door when no answer came. He stepped into the room to find endless rolls of parchment sprawled over the floor and desk, a tipped-over inkwell bleeding a pool of black over most of it, now dripping quietly onto the rug. The fire in the hearth was reduced to embers that were glowing faintly in the dim evening light. Another cup of tea stood cold and abandoned to the side.

Amidst all of this was his husband, hunched over the desk, almost entirely lost in the folds of his woollen jumper. His face was hidden in the crook of his elbow. He was snoring. It was adorable.

He considered letting Remus sleep for a while. The gods knew he needed it. He had walked in on Remus sleeping on various surfaces around the house these last few days. Sirius knew his lanky frame would not take this position too kindly, though.

“Moony?” He nudged the other man lightly, startling him, and Remus looked up at him with bleary eyes. A quill was stuck in a sea of unruly golden curls, there was a smudge of ink on his nose, and a bit of drool clung to his chin. It was bloody endearing.

Remus glanced out of the window into the dark of the night and groaned softly. “What time is it?”

“It’s gone 10. Have you slept long?” Sirius vanished the spill of ink with a flick of his wand.

“Too long,” Remus mumbled as he sorted through the mess on the desk. “I need to get on with these papers.”

“You need to go to bed, love.”

“I need to find my damn quill, love,“ Remus snapped.

Sirius flinched, then plucked the quill from Remus’ hair with a huff. “Here,” he said, tossing the quill on the desk.

Remus had the decency to look ashamed as he ran a hand over his face and gave Sirius an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat.” Remus hooked his fingers in Sirius’ jeans pockets and pulled him into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, and Sirius leant into the warmth of Remus’ chest.

“It’s ok,” Sirius said. “I know how hard you work. Too hard.” He reached up to wipe the spittle from Remus’ chin and captured his mouth in a soft kiss. “But you need sleep. I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” Remus smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. Sirius could see the dark rings even in the dull light.

“Will you go to bed, then?”

“I really should get on—“ Remus started, only for Sirius to shut him up with another kiss.

Sirius ran a hand through Remus’ hair and tugged on it slightly, granting him access to Remus’ throat. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin, nosing his way up through Remus’ heavy beard. “I’ll let you jump down my throat in a fun way if you come to bed with me now…” Sirius whispered against his ear.

Remus pulled back, mock-scandalised. “Sirius Black, are you trying to lure me into your bed with vulgar promises, you minx?”

Sirius wagged his eyebrows and gave his bottom a little wiggle. “Is it working?”

“…yes.”

He kissed Remus again, urgently, and with heat and fire now.

“Then I am.”

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders #marauders fanfiction

159 notes · View notes

ichigoli · 2 months

Text

Yumi and The Nightmare Painter Shadowbox Master Post 1:

The Yoki-Hijo

I am head over heels for making these Cosmere Shadow Boxes. I would love to find a better mold than the 4" coasters but for now they are so pretty! I don't even know what I'll do with them but for now I'm happy the exist.

To begin, I once again sketched out a design trying to focus on strong silhouettes, and cut out each layer on a different piece of card stock. I decided to go with warm colors to push the heat of Yumi's environment and give some good contrast to the Painter Box coming soon.

Learning from the Mistborn Shadow Box, I was worried about such delicate shapes floating in the resin and messing with the depth. So I tried something that worked out ok with a fabric backing I did for a commission for a friend. I painted the paper cut outs with resin and let them cure on a silicone mat to hopefully give them some more rigidity and less buoyancy in the resin.

I wanted to lean in to the "traditional" vibe that Yumi's side of the story has, so I included real natural elements as part of the resin inclusions.

Real pressed flowers and gravel give the work a more grounded (sorry) element which will contrast nicely with what I have planned for Painter. I also decided to have some fun with it and "stacked" some rocks up the sides. The flowers floating in the sky are such an iconic part of her world that I had to include them.

I didn't take pictures of the individual layers going in this time around because, thanks to the resin painted over each piece, the long curing time between each layer became unnecessary so the process was a lot faster this time around (yay, we're learning!) But you can see the added flowers and some of the gems acting as stand ins for the Hijo floating around the stacks. I know they aren't "book accurate" but I wanted just the tiniest bits of Cyan and Magenta in Yumi's piece. (Keep an eye out for their parallels in Painter's piece)

I'm really fond of the way the resin soaks into the light card stock like water. It creates a very specific kind of translucency that lends itself to the "atmospheric fade" that creates a light illusion of distance and depth.

A quick check through the bottom to preview how it all looks before we add the resin on to the final backing paper layer...

The pale lemon yellow paper pics up a lot of depth from the resin soaking in. I also swirled in the littlest bit of gold luster-dust and a drip of orange ink to the corners for a little depth of color before putting the paper down and more resin over top.

And the final reveal:

A little flat with the simple background, but that's expected. The contrast is exactly what I was hoping for. I mixed a little bit of the glow powder seen beneath the Shadow Box there to help boost the reflectivity of light which can be seen bleeding up around her knees a little bit which I hope helps evoke that heat her land is known for.

When backlit, the rein soaked into the card stock gives the whole scene an almost dreamy quality as the stone stacks fade but Yumi remains stark and crisply focused.

A few close ups of details and how lovely the layering looks peeking through the open spaces.

No preview of Painter yet, I am still trying to puzzle out a good silhouette for him that will show what he's actually doing when he's hunched over a canvas without being able to use internal contours... but I can share that I bought some EL wire and hope to line his piece with real hion lines!... once I figure out how to make the wire Cyan and Magenta along the places I want it to go.

Once Painter is done, I don't plan to stop. Maybe Warbreaker next... or Stormlight, though I have other plans for that behemoth.

Real talk: Anyone who wants to float an idea, I wanna hear it. These are too fun to stop. (I could maybe even be talked into parting with one if the situation arises)

#yumi and the nightmare painter #Cosmere #epoxy resin #paper craft #shadow box #id in alt text #because I love you

10 notes · View notes

themoonandtheprincess · 1 month

Text

Farmer's Market Troubles Part 1

"We're taking the word Crank back!" Newt frowns as he messes with a corner on the pamphlet he was just given. The people on it are not infected with the Flare, not ones before or after Gone or healed like he is, and it's apparent in how they're standing. They're shot straight up and proper and too close, almost crowding each other. It's like this new WCKD group wants to keep the infected crammed in with each other, far away from the Immunes in their own lands. Newt thinks of the Scorch. It's not a thought he wants right now. The June sun doesn't help his thoughts either as it heats up his neck and ears and he takes a sip of water as he thumbs through the pamphlet. They insist to be called Cranks, at least by this organization, smiling at the camera with blurbs of their stories that's too coherent to be from a Crank. Newt would never let himself be called a Crank. The language from the Glade was goofy enough. He glances up at the non-infected people running the booth and imagines everyone glowing with color. Like an X-ray, there's a black dot inside of him and it expands and deflates everytime he breathes. He tries to keep it inside him. And it tries to move to his fingertips but he drops the pamphlet and rubs his sweaty hands against his jeans. Touch had became so difficult when the Flare came, like he was burning people too close to him and the feeling never went away, even with years of being cured. Touch and being touched came easy with Thomas but it was frustrating to the point of tears when all he wanted during his sickness was Alby's warm hand squeeze his shoulder or Minho to try to wrestle him without feeling like the black spot in him would bleed out of him like a ink on paper. He would not allow himself to become a Crank. Newt gives himself a moment of clamping his jaw shut and digging his fingernails in his palm with every emotion he's ever had as he looks down at the pamphlet, desperately wanting to tear up the pages onto the new group's lap, the little letters from the paragraph on "How to live normally with the Flare" spelling out Fuck you. But what would that prove, a bitter part of him seethes, that you are, in fact, a Gone, nasty Crank? Newt pauses and looks for new words. I am healed, I am healed, I am healed- He had been for years. Things can always be reversed- They can but this wouldn't be. There are an infinite amount of universes and the one I am in is the one where I am better. With Tommy. There are an infinite amount of universes and you'll never know which one you'll fall into- Infinite could mean anything. Anything could be good. And even amazing, wonderful things. Newt says nothing to the people running the booth as he wills himself to calm down. It would do no good, nothing except rile him up to be here. That was what the whole thing was for. The whole organization. He sets off to find Thomas and their friends.

Minho has his eyes half-closed as he slumps against a tree and lazily opens them as Newt catches himself from stumbling against another tree. Damn it. Why did his bloody limp have to worsen when he was pissed? "Don't kill yourself," he jokes, then tries to redeem himself. "You okay?" "Yeah." He replies, easing himself against the opposite tree. " 'M fine." Thomas shoots Minho a sharp look but says nothing as sucks in his bottom lip staring at Newt- a weird habit he developed in the Maze when he got to thinking too much. Thomas stretches his legs out from under him as Newt does the same as best he can. Their boots knock into each other's and he gives Newt a calming smile. Newt lets out a small breath. "You wandered off for a little too long," he teases. "Minho's getting tired and is being a big baby about it, insisting we drive him home." "Jorge never answered my text if he could." Minho whines. "Should had texted him earlier." All three jump at Brenda's voice as she appears from behind a tree and streches to grab a low hanging branch to swing on. She looks tired from her morning at her Jorge's booth but she continues to swing with a smile. "He's never not busy," she adds. "What brings you three little piggies to the market?" Newt laughs. Again, he thinks of the terrible language of the Glade fourteen year olds who thought they were cool made up. "I went on a run with Minho," Thomas pipes up. "I didn't even know the market was today, so of course I had to call Newt because he loves all this stuff and then he got lost-" "I didn't get lost," Newt interrupts. "I was looking for magic beans." Thomas rolls his eyes and continues. "Anyway, Minho needs to be put down for a nap so could you please drive him home? Newt drove the car here and your house is closer to his then ours. Please?" Brenda and Minho's faces twist into matching cross expressions. It's no secret they don't like each other, but Brenda believes in karma and whether she thinks something good would come to her from driving her annoyance of a friend-of-a-friend home or something bad would happen happen to Minho, she agrees and then adds: "Why can't he just run home?" Minho flicks her ankle as she dangles and she kicks his shoulder. "Because I'm a tired little baby." He whines. She might had said Damn right you are under her breath but Newt couldn't hear over the slight grind of her teeth. Brenda glaces and Thomas, who has puppy dog eyes, then drops down from the tree. "Slim it. Get in the car." She says. Thomas mouths Thank you, I'm sorry as her and Minho leave and Brenda flips him off. For some reason he has a pleased look on his face. He bumps his shoe into Newt's again and it brings him to look up. Thomas as softened against the tree like he'll melt in it and Newt imagines the colors of his surroundings again. The park pulses with pale blue love and life and almost everyone and everything does too. Thomas is in bright hero green and it radiates out of him into everything he touches and everything he loves. They are connected and there is slight worry about it but Newt's loyalty and love for him and engulfs them both. He forces himself back to the ground where it's just him and Thomas and the birds.

#newtmas #newt tmr #tmr thomas #tmr minho #teresa tmr #brenda tmr #the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #fluff #angst #Crank tmr #I don't know what this was please I'm begging do not look into the logistics

7 notes · View notes

master-sass-blast · 2 years

Text

Paint the Future.

Summary: "He’d locked away the sketchbook with the nursery designs. He’d needed to be present for you as you cycled through anxiety, grief, self-blame, and depression. And, if he was being honest, it hurt too much to have the sketchbook out.

Piotr flips the key into his palm and curls his fist shut –though he’s careful not to apply too much force. 'Don’t break it.' He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly through his nose. Then, he kneels down and slides the key into the drawer’s lock with a quiet click."

aka Piotr has trauma from all the Reader's miscarriages, too, which start to come to the surface.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Rating: G but as a note there are mentions of miscarriage and reflections on Piotr's trauma from the Reader's previous miscarriages.

Word count: 3.6k.

Set after "The Long Awaited Arrival."

Piotr is a man of principles, high among which is organization. A tidy space makes for a tidy mind, in his opinion. He likes having order in life –which certainly includes his art studio and supplies.

Granted, Piotr knows that mess comes with art. Paints stain, pencils leave shavings and smear, ink bleeds and drips, erasers leave little scraps all over the place, paper tears, chalk gets dust everywhere… The work process is seldom clean; that doesn’t mean his studio can’t be.

Sure, things get chaotic when he’s in the middle of multiple projects, or if things with the Institute and X-Men get busy. But, as a rule, he keeps his studio tidy. Clutter makes it difficult to focus, which leads to mistakes, which leads to ruined drawings and afternoons spent brooding over simple slip ups.

He has a massive bookshelf that spans one wall of his studio space. He designed and built it himself. The bottom half is built like rows of cubbies; it’s designed to hold bins of his bulkier supplies –tubes of paint, extra erasers, tins of pencils, cases of markers, and the like. The enclosed sides mean that knocking something over is less likely, which means damaging his (often expensive) supplies is less likely. The top half are proper bookshelves, which is where he keeps his art reference books, less delicate supplies, and stacks of sketchbooks. The whole thing is painted white –which seems counterintuitive, given that he works with very pigmented tools, but painting the shelves white means that he can scrub the shelves down as hard as necessary without lightening the color of the paint. Aside from his art desk, which has a mechanism that lets him adjust the angle of the desk to his needs, it’s one of his best builds.

His angled desk sits in front of the windows, adjacent to the couch that you like to sprawl out on while he works. It has an adjustable lamp clamped to the top, and several wooden cubbies built onto the sides to hold supplies while he’s in the middle of working. The chair that goes with it was a custom-ordered piece; no other stool or chairs could accommodate his height properly.

He has a second desk that he keeps in the corner of his room, too. It’s a traditional desk he found at a thrift store, made out of dark stained wood with built in drawers. He mostly uses it for grading (or as a makeshift table if he needs a lot of supplies out at once).

But the desk also has a drawer that locks. And, fortunately enough, the key was still with the piece when he purchased it at the store.

Presently, he’s staring at the locked drawer. His chest feels painfully tight with nerves. He purses his lips, mind whirling with indecision.

He doesn’t keep anything in the locked drawer –save for one sketchbook he saw fit to isolate from the others.

He’d started some drawings about a year after the two of you had gotten married; by then, the two of you had settled into your new home and union. You’d started talking about kids. Even though you hadn’t started trying yet, he’d started making designs for the nursery –a mural to go on one of the walls and a few smaller thematic paintings to go on the others.

Piotr swallows hard, then stands from the couch he keeps in his studio and crosses the room to his other desk. He opens the center draw and pulls out the key to the locked drawer. He spins it in his fingers, absently studying the curves of the key’s teeth. It’s so small.

And then you two started trying. It took months for you to get pregnant –and then you’d lost the baby mere days later.

It’d been devastating –but these things happen, you’d both reasoned. Sometimes life was painful and unfortunate, but it didn’t mean that one couldn’t carry on. So the two of you had tried again.

And then you’d miscarried again. And again. And again.

He’d locked away the sketchbook with the nursery designs. He’d needed to be present for you as you cycled through anxiety, grief, self-blame, and depression. And, if he was being honest, it hurt too much to have the sketchbook out.

Piotr flips the key into his palm and curls his fist shut –though he’s careful not to apply too much force. Don’t break it. He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly through his nose. Then, he kneels down and slides the key into the drawer’s lock with a quiet click.

But now you’re pregnant again. And, what’s more, your specialist says that things look promising. You can’t afford to take any unnecessary risks, and you need regular check ups, but…

Piotr opens the drawer.

The sketchbook leans at an angle, spiral binding down so the pages didn’t get creased. The cover –a generic sketch of a vase printed on the cover of every sketchbook by this particular brand–stares up at him.

He gingerly picks up the sketchbook and flips it open. It’s mostly empty; it hadn’t felt right to toss such precious drawings in with another, more utilitarian book. He checks them over, noting what he’d change now and what he’d keep, then closes the drawer and tucks the sketchbook under his arm as he stands. Maybe bit of hope is good.

***

He shows the sketches to his mother first.

He feels guilty for not showing you first. You’re his wife. You’re carrying the baby that the nursery will be for. Out of anyone, societal convention dictates that you should see the sketches first.

But it’s not like he’s not going to show you at all. No, he fully intends to show you so you can give equal feedback; you’ll use the nursery just as much as he does, after all. He wants you to enjoy how it looks, too.

But after… everything, he needs… a certain kind of support. A certain style of comfort.

He feels small, like he’s six years old again. He’s six years old, and he’s just fallen and scraped his knees on the concrete block that hosts the water troughs for the horses’ paddock. He’s whimpering and sniffling, and his mother has just scooped him up and is carrying him towards the main farmhouse to patch his wound.

He wants to feel like that again. Just for a moment.

As always, his mother delivers her verdict in as few words as possible. She peers down at the page, gives it a once over, then nods. “Looks good.”

Piotr sighs –albeit fondly–and rolls his eyes. “I was hoping for a bit more than that, mama,” he says in Russian.

“Then you should’ve asked your father,” Alex replies in kind. She smirks, then shakes her head before studying the main mural sketch again. “No, medvezhonok, it looks very good. You always do immaculate work.”

“It’s just a sketch,” he mutters.

Alex tsks. “None of that. Accept the compliment, malenkiy.”

“Spasibo,” Piotr murmurs, ears turning pink with sheepish satisfaction. He stares down at the page, but he can’t really take in any of the details from the sketch. His mind still feels distant; his gut feels like thorny vines are curling through it. He swallows hard, then tries to feign nonchalance. “Do you like it?”

“I’m not the one who needs to answer that.” Alex cocks her head back and studies her son for a moment. She crosses her arms loosely over her chest. “And I suspect that’s not what you’re really here to ask me.”

He flinches. He looks away, opting to stare at the ground instead. Nausea creeps through his gut. His breathing shallows. Why is this so hard?

“Alright.” Alex’s hands are on his shoulders, guiding him towards the porch. She nudges him forward until he sits on the front steps of the farmhouse. “Sit.”

“I don’t–”

“Yes, you do. You just went paler than snow.”

Piotr swallows hard. He closes the sketchbook and sets it aside. I don’t want to lose this baby, too.

“Hey.” Alex kneels in front of him when he lets out a tight, shuddering breath. She cups his face in her hands and gently strokes his cheeks with her thumbs. “Talk to me, medvezhonok.”

Piotr lets out a ghost of a laugh, lips briefly twitching into a smile. “Do as you say, not as you do?”

“Exactly.” Alex smirks, but the expression fades when Piotr’s frown returns. “What’s wrong, Piotr?”

He sighs, weak and wavering, then lets himself lean forward when his mother pulls him into a hug. He buries her face against her shoulder and closes his eyes. “I’m scared.”

“Okay.” Alex strokes her fingers through his hair. She kisses his temple, then asks, “Scared of what?”

“Of –of another miscarriage.” His throat constricts with grief and fear. He can feel his eyes burning with tears. “Of losing the baby. If –if I paint the mural, if we get the nursery ready, and then–”

“Tische.” Alex hugs Piotr tighter when he lets out a sob. She cups his head with one hand and rubs his back with the other. “It’s okay–”

“No, it isn’t!” Piotr snaps. He pulls back and scrubs his face roughly with the heels of his hands. “Nothing about this is okay!” He purses his lips, falling silent as the onslaught of emotion lodges somewhere between his chest and his throat. Nothing about watching my wife blame herself for things beyond her control is okay. Nothing about hoping things will be different, only for everything to be the same is okay. Nothing about losing over, and over, and over– He lets out a ragged sigh, then slumps against his mother. “How do you hope? How are you not afraid?”

“Bozhe ty moi.” Alex sighs, then kisses his temple before patting his back. “Hold on. Let me think.”

Piotr sits up, then shifts to the side so his mother has more room as she sits on the step next to him. He studies her –the way she braces her forearms against her knees, how she’s tucked her tongue against the inside of her lower lip, the tightness around her eyes–as she thinks.

When Alex is silent for several moments, though, he turns his attention to the farm; your uncle had found a beautiful, sprawling plot of land to teleport the Rasputin farm to. The whole space is surrounded by towering trees, encapsulating the house and farm plots from view. The house is positioned atop a hill that slopes towards the back of the property, where the farm, animal pens, and crop fields are.

It’s a beautiful day. Sunny, pleasantly warm, not a cloud in the late summer sky. There’s a soft breeze in the air that rustles through the tree canopies. Birds chirp overhead, and the chatter of squirrels and chipmunks are audible around them.

If he were in a better mood, he’d want to paint the scene in front of him. A nice big canvas –or, better yet, a large piece of watercolor paper, pre-soaked and stretched…

“I don’t know if I was ever not afraid.”

Piotr inhales sharply, abruptly tuning back in when his mother finally speaks. He blinks a few times to focus himself, then frowns when her meaning settles in his mind. He turns to face her. “What do you mean?”

Alex shrugs. She leans back, bracing her palms against the step behind them. “I remember… I was always on alert, I guess. Every time I was pregnant with one of you, I was always like ‘okay, this is happening, what do I need to do to keep everyone safe?’” Her mouth twitches into a brief, distant frown. She shrugs again, eyebrows raising and lowering. “I was scared, but I knew I had to move forward.” She pauses for a moment, then lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “You should’ve asked your father. He’s much better at platitudes than I am.”

“But he didn’t go through it like you did.”

“He did in his own way,” Alex corrects, “but I understand what you mean.” She cocks her head to one side, considering, then adds, “I think… it’s okay to be happy. I had to learn that one from your father –taking time to be happy with things, instead of always focusing on what’s going to go wrong.” She smirks, but the expression is distinctly melancholy. “You got that from me, unfortunately.”

Piotr shakes his head and wraps one arm around his mother’s shoulders. “I’d rather have part of you than none of you.”

“Far better things to take than perpetual pessimism,” Alex scoffs.

“I have your hair, too,” Piotr points out with a smile.

Alex snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yes, you do have that. But, to stay on target…” She smirks when her son chuckles, then continues. “I had to learn that it’s okay to be happy –to do things that make you happy. Even when you’re afraid. Even when things could fall apart.” Her expression goes distant for a moment; her lips curl into a faint frown. “I’m not so sure I’ve mastered it. Your father’s always been better at this type of shit.”

Piotr shrugs, then mulls the suggestion over. But… if we prepare the nursery… if we put in all that work and let our guard down… and then everything… He swallows hard. His hands curl into tight fists. He draws in a shaking breath, then quickly reroutes his mind to avoid the anguish of inevitable conclusion. “But –but if… if we do, and–”

“Nothing you do –or don’t do–is going to make that baby die,” Alex interjects, level-headed and unapologetically blunt. She cocks her head to the side, studying Piotr as he grumbles under his breath. “Would painting the nursery make you happy?”

He thinks about it –truly thinks about it. He lets his mind wander to a daydream he’d abandoned a while ago, back when it was first apparent that you might not be able to keep a pregnancy. He’s in the nursery space, sketching out the main mural while you work on some other details for another wall. He’s smiling, and laughing with you, and you’re overjoyed in a way he hasn’t seen in so long…

He’s happy. So much so that it terrifies him.

Piotr blinks –then quickly wipes his cheeks when the unexpected wetness of tears. He sniffs, then nods when Alex rubs his shoulder. “It would.”

She nods along, watching as he tries to collect himself. “Would it make her happy?”

“I think so.” Piotr smiles as he thinks of you. “This pregnancy has been… hard for her. She’s been very sick. I think this may… ‘boost’ her.”

“Then do it.”

“But if we…” His throat constricts with anguish, and it takes a couple tries before he can continue. “If we… if we lose the baby–”

“You’ll adopt.” Alex lifts one hand and wipes the tears off his cheek. “There’s more than one option, medvezhonok.”

Piotr shakes his head. “Not for mutants. We’d get blacklisted before we got anywhere.”

“You don’t know that,” Alex insists. She ducks her head, staring Piotr down until he meets her gaze. “Okay? You don’t know that. A lot has changed in the past decade, and you two would be perfect candidates. Don’t shut yourself down before you’ve even explored the possibility.” She waits until Piotr nods, then adds, “Besides, there’s plenty of mutant kids the government would be glad to have off their hands. Those fucking pigs would probably think you’re doing them a favor.”

He rolls his eyes, but the clouds of concern quickly overshadow any hope he might have. “But… if they don’t…”

“Then we’ll figure it out. All of us.” Alex arches one eyebrow when Piotr shoots her a quizzical look. “We’re here for you, malenkiy. The two of you have a lot of resources and connections that you haven’t even tapped into yet. If you want a family, we’ll do whatever we can to see that you get one.” She pauses while Piotr nods slowly, mostly to himself, then adds, “Besides, babies are easy enough to steal.”

Piotr’s head whips around, eyes wide with shock. “Mama!”

“I’m kidding.” She smirks when Piotr sputters, then claps him on the shoulder. “Be happy, Piotr.” Her smirk falters for a moment, then settles into a melancholy smile. “Do what I couldn’t –didn’t. Be happy. Let yourself enjoy this time.”

I don’t know if I can. Piotr draws in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. But… I can try. He nods, then leans over and draws his mother into a hug. “Thank you, mama.”

“Of course, baby.” Alex winds her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight. “Of course.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, malenkiy.”

***

You’re puttering in the kitchen when he gets home, humming along with a song playing on your laptop. You turn when you hear him walk through the front door, then pause the music before greeting him in English. “Hi, baby!”

“Privet.” He sets his keys and wallet in the dish the two of you keep by the front door, then strides back to the kitchen. He smiles when he sees you, then draws you into a hug. He basks in the simple comfort of holding you for a moment, then kisses the top of your head before letting you go. “What are you doing, myshka?”

“Making chocolate covered strawberries.” You hold up what looks like a mug of mostly melted chocolate chips, then gesture to a plate in front of you; it’s covered with parchment paper and laden with some –admittedly sloppy–chocolate covered strawberries and random drippings of chocolate. “Don’t look in the sink. It took me a few tries to get the melting process right.”

“I will not look in sink,” Piotr promises (even though he already saw the small collection of bowls and mugs filled with seized chocolate when he came in). He reaches down and gently rubs your swollen belly, then presses his lips together when you use a strawberry to scrape down the side of the mug. “Ah… myshka…”

“Yeah?” You ask. You place the chocolate covered berry –there’s practically a mountain of chocolate on the poor thing–on your plate, then lick a smear of chocolate off your thumb. You hum to yourself, content, then look up when he doesn’t continue. “What?”

“I…” He pauses, considering his words carefully. “Are you going to eat these all at once?”

You scrunch up your face. “No. I’m making these for the next few days –and to share, which you should be so lucky.”

“Indeed I am.” He kisses the top of your head, then clarifies. “I was merely concerned. It is important to watch sugar levels.”

“Gestational diabetes and all that, I know,” you agree, nodding. “But my bloodwork’s been good so far.”

“I know,” Piotr says, though the tightness in his chest and throat doesn’t ease. “But is good to be careful.” He waits until you use up the last of your chocolate, then clears his throat. “I… I have something to show you.”

“Ooh, what is it?” You ask as you carry your plate of strawberries to the fridge.

Piotr swallows hard as anxiety crests over the back of his head. He takes a deep breath, steels himself, then lets it out. It is okay to be happy. “I have sketches for nursery.”

“Really?” You gasp, delighted, and beam at him. “Let me wash my hands, then show me!”

He opens the sketchpad and sets it upon a clean portion of the counter. He puts one arm around your shoulders when you come over to inspect his work. “This is for main wall, and these are accents to go on other walls.”

“Oh my gosh,” you coo. You press your hands against your mouth and bounce lightly on the balls of your feet. “It’s Winnie the Pooh!”

“Da.” He grins, delighted that you recognized the references he’d pulled from. “I combined styles with traditional zhostovo art.”

“It looks so beautiful!” you gush. You clutch your hands against your chest. “Oh, Pooh’s house! Piotr, this is incredible!”

He bends down to kiss your temple. “Spasibo. Mama liked them as well.”

“Oh.” You twist to look up at him. “You showed your mom?”

Your tone and face are still bright, but he cringes all the same. Why did I say anything? “Ah –yes.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “I am sorry. I know I should have showed you first–”

“I didn’t know there was some kind of rule about it,” you interject, face scrunched up in confusion. “I mean, it’s not like you were trying to get her approval before mine.” You pause for a moment, then squint your eyes in a dramatic, obvious caricature of suspicion and point at him. “Unless you were!”

“Nyet, nyet,” he laughs, holding up his hands.

You laugh along with him and lower your hand. “No, I know. I don’t think your mom even has the capacity for bullshit like that.”

He snorts. “You have that right. I think she’d rather chew her arm off.”

You chuckle and nod, then go back to fawning over his sketches. “These are so gorgeous, honey. Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to have these up on the walls! What kind of background color were you thinking?”

“Probably green or yellow. Goes best with colors of forest and flowers.” He places his hands on your shoulders, holding you close as you continue your fawning examination. His whole body still feels keyed up with anxiety and foreboding –his chest is tight, and his stomach’s churning–but he forces himself to take another deep, slow breath. It is okay to be happy.

And he’s going to be. One way or another, he’s going to be.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #FINALLY #I CAN FINALLY POST FICS #i'm so relieved yall have no idea #tw: mention of miscarriage #the baby's fine i promise #but there's mentions of miscarriage #and a lot of emotional trauma on piotr's part #just as an fyi #emotional hurt/comfort #x men fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction

139 notes · View notes

serenanymph · 1 year

Text

find the word tag

Tagged by @lorenfinch to find gloom, sky, wonder, beyond and grace!

No pressure tagging @lyssa-ink, @reneesbooks, @macabremoons and open tag for the words hostility, compartment, strain, walk and cooperative!

gloom

There’s a figure approaching them from out of the gloom of the tunnel. Crys spots it by the light, first. It’s odd, not the faint flickering glow of oil lamps, but rather something harsh and bright, throwing the rough rock of the tunnel walls into sharp relief. Icarus shifts his weight, scuffs a foot through the snow, antsy. On Crys’s left, Lize pulls down her hood, but doesn’t move or react, feet planted firmly as she stares into the mouth of the cave, crossbow lowered and tucked at her side. Her hair flutters in the wind, silvery-white and the color of the surrounding landscape.

sky

For a moment, the murmurs circling around their group grow louder, and his footsteps slow as he cranes his neck back to look at the wall in front of him. There is none of the crumbling rock and cracks in the stone that Sector El has – the wall here stands proud and strong and well-maintained, iron gate black and gleaming, turrets stretching toward the sky like claws. Crys spies at least five soldiers patrolling at the top of the wall, looking down on the flood of people entering through Ai’s gates, and tries to quash the uneasy prickle up the back of his neck: the feeling of being watched, of being alone and outnumbered, insignificant as a single tiny ant.

wonder

She beams, happy, gap-toothed. He reaches out, and – his magic humming in a mix of wonder and bewilderment and curiosity, strangely childlike – pats her on the head exactly once.

beyond

Sleep is the only brief reprieve Carrick has, if only because everyone else is too scared to mess around after curfew is called, but even then, there are the nightmares – his mother, bleeding and broken and come from beyond the grave, gripping him by the shoulders and screaming “Why didn’t you save me”, his father, nothing more than a looming shadow, growing and growing and growing until it suffocates him.

grace

Chaos – up on the platform the crow-girl is standing, fighting with nothing more than her hands and feet, her still limp wings. Feathers detach and come alive and dart towards the soldiers like paper-thin blades, slicing through the bonds on her fellow captive as well. The man, the vampire, clenches his fist and the stream of red from his arm topples the soldiers like bowling pins. Sigma charges at him, the blade in her hands black as obsidian and glowing, and the air folds around him and a tiny black bat is once again dancing in, out, weaving between slashes with expert grace. Creed looks between those still on the platform, goes for the boy first, who’s barely holding his own – but there’s a howl tearing through the air and a giant dark shape plows straight into him before he can even execute another move: a wolf, two feet long, eyes bright and claws sharp and teeth bared.

#tag game #find the word tag #ser writes stuff #beast #wip: beast #my posts #writeblr community #writing #writeblr #char: crys #char: icarus #char: rhyme #char: sol #char: zephyr #hmm yeah I think that's most of the important ones

13 notes · View notes

coliepng · 11 months

Note

Hiii. I love your blog and your journaling posts. I saw you switched to a ring bound notebook. How are you liking it and would you recommend it?

hiii 💕 thank you so much dearie

i’m really loving it! i used to use ringbound organizers all the time, many years ago, so it’s a bit like coming back home in a way. some of the things i love most about this system, compared to preprinted/bound ones i’ve been using:

• since i’m making my own pages, i have a lot more fulfillment in every page printed & filled out. everything feels so “me”

• if i mess up or i want to switch page orders, it’s as simple as reprinting or opening the rings — something that always irritated me in a bullet journal type system in bound notebooks

• going back to my first point, if i want to try anything new, it’s very quick and simple to do — i just need to print!

there are a few pitfalls, such as needing to take out pages sometimes to write on them, or still finding the size to be limiting compared to a larger size (im using a personal, tho my pages would be considered personal wide size). i also have to plan ahead a bit more, when printing digital collage pages and calendars. i also glue my pages after printing/trimming/folding them, which i find makes the pages sturdier and easier to turn. it also helps prevent ghosting and bleed through. originally i was printing on both sides to help save paper and prevent bulk, but my dot markers bleed through otherwise. also, printer ink can be kind of expensive, even just for black ink. but it’s been very worth it to me ☺️

so overall, yes! i would recommend it! there are some fancy covers out there i wish i could afford, but there are plenty of wallet-friendly options out there too. i do wish i had saved more of my old covers than just my finsbury, but i still quite like it :D i don’t carry my cards/id in the pockets, but if i wanted to keep *everything* in there, i could easily do so.

#x #answered #filofax

9 notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 1 year

Text

picking teams- chapter 10: cady

helloooo everyone happy wednesday!! if you follow me here welcome to the doodlebops chapter! and if you don’t then you get to find out what that means for yourself :)

tw for

mentioned drugging

sexuality crisis

mentioned outing

drug use (just weed)

alcohol

very very mild slut shaming

mentioned broken bones

enjoy!!

—————

Sleep doesn’t come to Cady easily that night.

She lies awake for hours, tossing and turning so much her muscles start to ache, and staring at the tiny pumpkin on her nightstand.

Janis. Janis, Janis, Janis.

Cady knows herself well enough by now to know something weird happens inside her whenever Janis is around. She just doesn’t know what it is.

Janis is unlike anyone Cady’s met before. She seems so closed off when you first meet her, so cold, so timid. But even after just a few conversations, Cady has been allowed to peek into the most fantastic world that is Janis Sarkisian.

Janis is loud. Not externally, or vocally. But inside. There’s a roaring passion behind everything Janis does that feels like magic to witness. Her football, her art, the way she talks to people. All of it is loud and beautiful.

And Janis is kind. The tutoring sessions are exclusively for her benefit, but she was so quick to drop one to rescue Cady from her little cave of sadness and turn her entire outlook upside down. Like it was nothing. She didn’t mention buying Cady dinner and yummy snacks and her first ever pumpkin.

She didn’t judge Cady’s artistic skills, or more accurately, her lack of artistic skills. She listened when Cady told her about her brother. She doesn’t ever tell Cady to stop talking about Regina, even after all their history together.

Cady’s learning and starting to understand how Janis shows she cares about people. And by the sounds of things, she cares about Cady quite a bit.

Cady realizes after a few hours that trying to fall asleep is getting her nowhere. Her mind is just running circles around itself, making her dizzy but still not tiring itself out.

So Cady hauls herself out of bed and over to her desk to grab a notebook and a pen. Making lists always helps her fall asleep. It lets her get her thoughts out in an objective way, and she can process whatever’s on her mind on paper instead of giving in to the roar of her thoughts.

She’s not entirely sure what kind of list she’s going to make this time, but she just lets her hand do what it will and her brain follow along behind it. She flips to a blank page in the notebook and divides it into four sections. She labels one column ‘Janis’ and the other ‘Aaron’. One row ‘pros’ and one row ‘cons’.

And before she knows it, her hand is flying across the page, listing everything she can possibly think of, every tiny thing that comes to mind. She watches the page slowly fill with ink as she writes and writes and writes until the tiny little muscles in her hand start to ache and the words start to bleed together both on the page and in her mind.

It’s a mess, but so is she.

She clicks her pen closed so it doesn’t leak into her sheets and blinks blearily at the page to see what she’s done.

She reads through each box. Smiles as she reads over all the pros of Janis. Pros for what? What am I doing?

She pores over it for a long time, trying to make some sense of all of this. It doesn’t work.

Janis’ pros include things such as; quick learner, interested in my stories, caring, funny, passionate, creative, athletic, artistic, talented, cares about her family, strong, physically strong, great friend, beautiful eyes, amazing smile, beautiful hair, cool scary clothes.

Aaron’s include… swoopy hair. Shiny eyes. Can do math.

His cons, on the other hand. Taken. Taken by Regina. Willingly dated Regina George more than once. Not really all that good at math.

And Janis’? Is a girl. That’s it.

Cady feels her brow furrow as she squints at the page, before they shoot up her forehead as it all comes together.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with Janis.”

—————

She’s a bit dizzy over the next couple of days. The realization that she likes a girl at all, especially one she’s so close to, has rocked her entire perception of herself.

Sunday passes in a fog, and she only really snaps out of it on Monday morning. “Cady!”

“Huh?” Cady says dazedly. “Oh, hey, Karen. How was your weekend?”

“Good!” Karen chirps sunnily. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Cady asks as she takes the violently orange piece of paper. It says ‘Haloween Partee’ across the top in a spooky font and is entirely covered with little pumpkins and skulls and candies. “Halloween party?”

“It’s only the best day of the year, duh!” Karen says. “It’s at my house on Saturday. And you’d better wear a costume.”

“Cool,” Cady says, folding the paper up and skipping it into the side pocket of her backpack. “I’ll ask my parents.”

She knows she’ll have to be there anyway. Something tells her this is really important to Karen, and that missing out on what’s clearly one of the biggest parties of the year wouldn’t go over very well in terms of her standing at school. She’ll come up with something to tell her parents.

“Do I need to bring anything?” she asks.

“Pfft, no!” Karen titters, adjusting her impossibly short skirt. “Just yourself and your costume. Pumpkin emoji.”

“Okay! Thanks,” Cady says. She startles violently when the bell rings. “Oh, I gotta go! See you at lunch!”

Karen looks confused by her haste to get to class on time. None of the Plastics (except Gretchen, maybe) are particularly worried about things like deadlines or schedules.

Cady’s just desperate for something new to focus on.

—-

Her brilliant plan of using school to distract herself doesn’t… totally work. She spends most of English staring blankly out the window and totally misses the group discussion on Crime and Punishment. Janis has been helping her with it. Cady still doesn’t understand the book. Maybe that’s because Janis has been helping her. With her pretty eyes and her hair and her smell… good god, Cady.

Chemistry doesn’t go much better. Janis looks so cute with her goggles perched on her head. How did Cady never notice this before? Aaron. Right.

A part of her feels guilty, almost. Aaron is still a good friend. She still… might like him. Or did she really like him in the first place?

Her mind flashes back to the list she made that night. Practically all of Aaron’s good qualities were physical. Things about his body, his face. He does have that swoopy hair. Aaron is undeniably attractive.

Janis’ list has a lot of physical qualities too, but more to do with her personality. She’s easy to be with, in spite of their circumstances being… less than ideal, to say the least. But is it really love? Really even a crush?

She sneaks a glance across the classroom again. Janis is laughing at something her lab partner has said. She looks like an adorable little bug with the goggles over her eyes.

Cady feels a stab of jealousy hit her completely out of nowhere. Someone else made her laugh.

At the very least, she knows that’s not a platonic way to feel. It’s definitely a crush.

Janis must feel Cady staring, because she suddenly looks back and meets her eyes. She gives her a little smile and a wink. Cady’s knees almost give out. Okay, yeah, I might be in love.

“Cady,” a voice says. Cady doesn’t totally clock it. “Cady, you’re on fire.”

“What?” Cady replies. She looks down, and sure enough, the hem of her shirt is aflame. “Oh, shit!”

She frantically pats herself out and takes a deep breath. Her lab partner raises an eyebrow. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry. Distracted today,” she replies. “Just a bit singed.”

Her partner just nods and returns to the observation worksheet they’re meant to be filling out. Cady has some observations, alright.

—-

“Caddy!” a voice calls as she’s leaving class. Cady turns and is surprised to see Janis. They usually avoid talking to each other in public lest Regina or one of her cronies see. “Hey, are you okay? I saw you, um…”

“Caught fire?” Cady giggles. Janis nods. “I’m fine. I just-”

Regina suddenly turns the corner into the hallway they’re in. Cady’s heart leaps into her throat.

“Gotta go, bye.”

Janis gets a hurt look on her face that makes Cady’s heart squeeze before she clocks the blonde coming down the hallway and rushes off in the other direction.

Cady watches her go for a second before she runs off to her next class. She cringes when she remembers she has calculus next and has to spend a whole forty-five minutes sitting directly behind Aaron Samuels.

She feels her phone buzz in her pocket just as she slides into her seat. She has a little tiny bit of time before class begins, so she pulls it out to check what it is.

She smiles when she sees a text from Janis.

janiss: are u sure ur ok ??

caddy: Yeah I’m fine

caddy: I’m just distracted today

janiss: what could possibly distract u enough that u didn’t notice u were on fire

Well, shit. Cady has to think of something believable, but she can’t take too long or Janis will know it to be a lie. She obviously can’t tell the truth. Janis might like girls, but there’s no way in hell she likes Cady. Not like that. Cady has to keep this to herself and hope and pray it goes away.

caddy: I still don’t know what to say to Aaron

caddy: I haven’t seen him yet today

It’s believable enough. Or so she hopes.

janiss: oh shit yeah

janiss: it’ll be fine

janiss: u don’t have to talk to him at all yknow

caddy: I know but he’s in my math class and he’d think it’s weird if I suddenly didn’t talk to him anymore even with everything that’s happened

janiss: oh and u have a crush on him

Eeeeeh, Cady thinks. Maybe she should go along with it. It might get Janis off her trail. Not that she was on it in the first place.

Regardless, it doesn’t feel like the kind of conversation they should have over text.

caddy: Yeah

caddy: Lot of pressure

janiss: don’t stress about it

janiss: you’ll figure out the right thing to say

janiss: and if he says anything shady dame and i will kill him for u

caddy: Well now that you’ve said that you’ll be the first person the police look at

janiss: shit ur right

janiss: eh i’ll just pin it on regina

caddy: A brilliant plan

janiss: thank u i know

The bell rings then, making Cady jump in her seat. She hisses as she clonks her elbow against the metal bar connecting the desk to her chair and sends tingles down her arm. Funny bones are not at all humerus.

caddy: Can we talk later?

caddy: Revenge stuff?

janiss: yeah

janiss: come over after 5 if u can

caddy: Got it :)

janiss: (:

caddy: No.

janiss: they’re friends!

caddy: He’s an abomination

janiss: :00

Cady doesn’t get a chance to explain everything incorrect about the backwards smiley face before Ms. Norbury comes into the room in a frenzy and begins class. Cady clicks her phone off and looks attentively at the board, pointedly ignoring Aaron’s furtive glances back at her. What am I supposed to say to him in the middle of class, anyway?

Yet again, she’s stopped before she can leave the area. “Cady! Hey, wait up.”

Cady stops in her tracks and turns around with a quiet sigh. “Hi, Aaron.”

“Hey, can we talk?”

“Can we walk and talk? Regina’s gonna kill me if I’m late to practice again,” Cady says. Aaron nods and does his best to keep up as she starts power-walking towards the nearest stairwell.

“I just want to apologize for how things went down at homecoming,” Aaron begins. “Regina, uh… told me you… like me. I’m sorry for, like, rubbing that in your face.”

“It’s fine,” Cady says. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Aaron says. “I hope you weren’t too upset.”

I ate an entire dairy farm’s worth of ice cream and cried for a week straight, but thanks, Cady thinks to herself. Out loud, she just says, “It’s really fine. It was just, like… I dunno. I thought you were cute, but Regina must, like, really like you. I’ll get over whatever I felt.”

“I just… hope we can still be friends?” Aaron asks.

Depends, Cady thinks. “I think I can live with that.”

“Cool,” Aaron chuckles.

As they round the corner into the gym hallway, Cady inhales and says, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Did… Regina tell you? What she did to Janis?”

“Sarkisian?” Aaron asks. Cady nods. Aaron sighs and says, “Not directly, at first. When we first got together was around the time Janis really started changing her look into… y’know. She was kinda the talk of the school again. And I heard rumors, so I asked Regina. She fessed up then.”

“So you know the truth? Not the ‘six people at her thirteenth birthday party’ story?”

“Yeah. I know the ‘told the whole school Janis was a lesbian and got her bullied to within an inch of her life’ story,” Aaron sighs.

“And you still took Regina back?”

Aaron doesn’t say anything in response to that. He seems to know that no matter what he says, Cady’s going to be upset. Cady nods in confirmation.

“Right. See you,” she says, crossing the hall and striding into the girls’ locker room before he can even think of following her. She suddenly doesn’t feel so bad about using him to get back at Regina.

She jumps as she crashes into something as soon as she leaves the locker room. She almost falls onto her ass, but she’s saved by a soft, large hand grabbing her and keeping her upright.

“Jesus, I’m so-” she starts to say. “Oh, Damian, hi. Sorry for… that. I didn’t see you.”

“It’s fine, Little Slice,” Damian replies. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’ve just been kind of out of it today,” Cady says with a breathy, anxious chuckle. Damian watches in concern as she wrings her fingers together.

“Are you okay to fly? You shouldn’t do that if you’re not in the right headspace,” he says with a furrowed brow.

“I’ll be fine. I think it’ll help me clear my head,” Cady explains. Tumbling has always done that. It’s like being upside down just gets any worrisome thoughts to tip out of her ears.

“Mmkay,” Damian says, eyeing her suspiciously. “Let me know if you’re not up for it.”

“I will. Thanks, Dame,” Cady says. She laughs as he ruffles her hair (as best he can with it in a ponytail) and walks off to the gym to start his warm ups. Cady sighs and heads to refill her water bottle before joining him.

—-

Cady was almost right about practice being just the thing she’d need to clear her head. She stretches and warms up like normal. She gets time to herself to mull over what to do about the Janis Situation, as she’s now calling it in her head.

She realizes as she goes into a bridge to stretch her back that she has a larger dilemma on her hands. What am I?

Things in Kenya were… strange, when it came to sexuality. Animals do things quite differently. Cady’s parents did their best to be inclusive with her education, but as isolated white middle-aged people, her sex education class was… spotty, to say the least. They taught her that some people are straight, and like the opposite sex. And some people are gay, which meant they liked the same sex. And gay is okay!

That was about the extent of that particular lesson.

Cady knows for a fact that she really, really likes Janis Sarkisian. But she also knows for a fact that she really, really liked Aaron Samuels. There’s seven empty pints of ice cream and an unholy amount of tissues in her family’s trash bin to prove that.

Can you be gay and straight at the same time? Is that a thing? And if so, what’s the word for it? How am I supposed to function without some kind of label for this?

Cady takes a deep breath and decides to take her warm-up tumbling pass a bit slow today. She starts with a plain old roundoff just to make sure she’s not totally off her game and apt to injure herself.

The motion relaxes her. She shakes out her shoulders, rolls her neck, and takes a deep breath before she takes off again. This time she adds in a few back handsprings, which calm her further. She counts off; hands, feet, hands, feet, hands, feet. Soon, the steady, constant rhythm of her being upside down and then righted once more is soon the only thing filling her mind.

Maybe I’ll just ask Damian.

—————

Cady carefully smooths down her skirt as she waits for Janis to open the door. Janis said after five. Cady waited until 5:01 to knock. That counts.

“Hey, Cadd- aah!” Janis yelps, slamming the door in her face immediately after opening it. She opens it again with a hand held over her mouth and a very apologetic look in her eyes. “Nice costume.”

“Thankth,” Cady says around the creepy fake teeth in her mouth. She pulls them out when Janis shoots her a look.

“W-why, um… why are you wearing that?” Janis asks as she motions her inside.

“I got invited to Karen’s Halloween party this Saturday, I thought it would be a good place to kick off our revenge plans,” Cady says eagerly. “I just got it!”

“Oh, Caddy,” Janis says pityingly. “You can’t wear that to a North Shore costume party. Especially not a Plastic costume party. You’re gonna get eaten alive.”

“Oh,” Cady says sadly. “I thought you were supposed to dress scary on Halloween.”

“If we were any other age, you would be,” Janis sighs. She motions her further into the house and gently sits her down on the couch in the living room. Cady flops down with a huff and rips off her veil and wig. “It is pretty sick. Zombie bride?”

“Ex-wife,” Cady mumbles miserably, fiddling with the lace on her polyester bridal gown.

Janis laughs. “That’s great.”

“It was,” Cady sighs. “What am I supposed to wear if not a costume?”

“Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and nobody else can say anything,” Janis explains. She gives a strange giggle, suddenly, and says, “It’s amazing.”

“So… I have to…”

“The hardcore girls just wear some kind of lingerie and some animal ears,” Janis says. “It sucks, but Regina would probably be super pissed if you already knew that. If she knows you got invited, she’s totally gonna be expecting you to show up in something like that. No offense. But she’ll be expecting to be able to humiliate you.”

“Lingerie?!” Cady says, jumping to her feet. “I’m barely sixteen, I don’t have any lingerie!”

“You wanna go get some?” Janis asks with a smirk.

“Isn’t Stevie-”

“Nah, she’s at her friend’s house for some birthday dinner thing,” Janis says. She wags her eyebrows suggestively. “Come ooooon, it’ll be fun.”

“You have a strange idea of fun, Janis Sarkisian.”

“You fucking know it, Caddy Heron.”

—-

Cady leaves the old costume behind and follows Janis to the garage in the clothes she had on underneath. They’re thin, so she’s a bit chilly in the cold October weather, but Janis gives her a coat to borrow and she suddenly can’t feel anything but warmth.

“You’re not wearing a coat?” Cady asks as Janis hauls her bike out of the garage. Her dad had to take their car to work today, so the bike is their only option for transportation other than walking.

“No,” Janis snorts. “It’s fifty degrees, Cads.”

“That’s cold!”

“Because you grew up in Kenya,” Janis retaliates. “Are you gonna be cool with taking Stevie’s bike? You’re, um… close in size.”

“I dunno how to ride a bike,” Cady says sheepishly.

“You what?!”

“Because I grew up in Kenya,” Cady retaliates with a giggle. “I never learned.”

“Damn,” Janis says. “I didn’t think of that. Uh… hm. We’re gonna have to do this Stranger Things style, then.”

“I still don’t know what that is,” Cady says. Janis deflates a bit as she closes the garage and gets onto the bike.

“I know. Hop on,” she sighs.

“What?”

“However you fit. We gotta do it this way,” Janis explains. Cady hesitates for a second before she climbs on behind her. She’s half-sitting and half standing, clinging tightly to Janis’ waist and looking over her shoulder. “Comfy?”

“No,” Cady says.

“Me either,” Janis says as she sets them moving. Cady squeals in fright and hides against Janis’ shoulder, but after a second she realizes it’s not so bad.

“This is kind of relaxing,” Cady says.

“Says you,” Janis chuckles breathlessly. “I’m the one doing all the work.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t grow up within a hundred miles of pavement,” Cady huffs.

“We’ll add that to the America classes curriculum. That can be your phys ed,” Janis says.

“Great,” Cady grumbles, resting her chin on Janis’ shoulder. It’s a bit bumpy as Janis is pedaling, but Cady isn’t phased. “Where are we going?”

“The mall,” Janis says.

“Aren’t there gonna be people there?” Cady asks worriedly. “And isn’t it… really far away?”

“Not this one. The one you’ve been to is further away and everyone goes to it because it’s way nicer,” Janis says. “So for something like this the one we’re going to is a win win. And it has a Victoria’s Secret, so that’s all we’ll need.”

“Who’s Victoria?”

“You are so cute,” Janis chuckles. “You’ll see.”

“Mmkay,” Cady hums anxiously. She rests her chin on Janis’ shoulder and just enjoys the ride.

Eventually, they pull up outside of a mall. Or what Cady thinks must be one. The one she’s used to has huge windows and is made of several buildings. This one is essentially just a brick cube. She can see why people prefer the other one.

She follows Janis inside through the sliding glass doors. Janis looks at the names of all the shops around them. Cady isn’t totally sure what she’s looking for, but she definitely finds it. Janis grabs her hand suddenly and runs full tilt towards a store entirely too far away for Cady’s tastes.

“Wait for me, I got little legs,” she pleads. Janis slows down a bit and looks at her.

“Keep up, short stuff, c’mon!”

“Hey!” Cady giggles as they finally slow to a stop. Cady looks around and sees they’re in a Halloween store. In what seems to have formerly been a pizza place, if the lingering delicious smells are anything to go by. Janis leads her to the animal costume section.

“Whoa,” Cady says when she sees the wall covered floor to ceiling in various animal accessories.

“Take your pick,” Janis says, giving a grand gesture with her arm and bowing sarcastically.

Cady looks at all the animal ears. Cats, dogs, rabbits… Janis snorts when she stands on her tiptoes to grab a pair of lion ears.

“I should’ve known.”

“That’s not what lion ears look like,” Cady says, flicking at the flimsy felt.

“Comes with a tail, though.” Janis says. “Kinky. This what you want?”

“I guess so,” Cady shrugs. Janis nods and leads her over to the checkout area. She pauses and grabs a black eyeliner crayon, false eyelash glue, and some black cosmetic glitter. “What’s that for?”

“You need whiskers,” Janis says. “We can’t half-ass this.”

“Lion whiskers aren’t glittery.”

“But glitter is sexy,” Janis says. “Or something. Just trust me.”

“Whatever you say,” Cady sighs as she puts the ears on the counter. The employee gives her a seriously judgmental look as she rings up everything. Cady’s used to being on the receiving end of looks like that and just pulls out her wallet to pay. Janis does too. “This is my costume, you’re not paying, Jay.”

“But it’s my idea,” Janis says. “You already bought a costume.”

“My mom bought that one. And this is different,” Cady says. The employee takes her money and gives her the proper change; along with a scathing look as she takes the bag of goods and leaves. “Who would’ve thought buying animal ears was such a personal offense to some people?”

“Can’t really say as I blame her,” Janis chuckles. “Alright, this way.”

Cady follows Janis through the meandering halls of the mall until they’re outside a store with some very strange music playing from within. It’s all black and pink. And filled to the brim with very fancy underwear. “You knew how to get here off the top of your head?”

Janis blushes a remarkable shade of scarlet and looks down at her boots. She squeaks a, “Yes.” before hauling Cady in by the hand and pointedly refusing to look at any of the mannequins.

Cady does look. It’s quite disturbing, seeing these decapitated waists and torsos modeling some very skimpy undergarments. Most of them don’t look… comfortable, to say the least. How is my body supposed to be shaped?

“You should, um… look for something yellow,” Janis says, still adamantly refusing to look at anything but the floor. “Or orange, maybe.”

Cady nods. Most of the things around are either black, red, or white, but she does spy something yellow in a far corner and lead Janis that way by a hand. “What about this?”

Finally, Janis does dare to peek up. She blinks in shock and says, “Oh, yeah, that’s perfect.”

Cady grabs one that seems close enough to her size off the rack and reads the tag. “Lace… teddy?”

“That’s just the style of it,” Janis explains. “The… bodysuit type thing.”

“You know a lot about lingerie, Sarkisian.”

“Yeah, well,” Janis says airily. “Go make sure it fits.”

Cady nods, standing on her tippy toes to see if she can spy a changing room. Janis is still a solid eight inches taller than her even with the tippy toes and points her in the right direction.

Cady takes a deep breath as she steps into one of the empty rooms and tugs the curtain closed after her. She looks at the flimsy lace in her hands like it’s a bomb set to explode at any minute before she sets it down on the seat nearby and starts taking off her clothes.

For Janis, she reminds herself as she pulls on the skimpy outfit. It feels much more like the kind of thing she’d happily support Karen wearing than actually wearing herself.

That being said, she doesn’t hate how she looks when she turns around to see herself in the mirror. It’s all lace, in a ‘teddy’ style with long sleeves. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable. Cady ordinarily can’t stand things made of lace touching her skin. But this lace is soft, and it’s not so far up her ass she can almost taste it like most of the undergarments Regina has tried to buy for her.

Wish I was wearing it for Janis under other circumstances, she thinks to herself as she turns to look at herself from the side. That’s creepy, Cady.

It fits comfortably and makes her look hot. Cady will have to be very careful choosing her bra and panties when the day comes, but beyond that, she thinks she got quite lucky finding this.

She takes it off and relishes in pulling all of her normal clothes back on. Janis is waiting for her when she pulls the curtain back open. She looks almost disappointed to see Cady in her clothes. Or maybe you’re just seeing what you want to see, you creeper.

“Fit okay?” Janis asks after clearing her throat.

“Yeah,” Cady responds, wringing the fragile fabric back and forth in her hands. “It’s actually kind of comfy.”

“Good,” Janis says with a grin. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What, you don’t like seeing sexy underwear on half of a plastic woman?” Cady giggles.

“Nah. Too much like Regina,” Janis jokes.

The cashier of this establishment looks at them quite suspiciously as Cady sheepishly rests the yellow lace on the counter. She can’t quite bring herself to make eye contact with the older woman as she pays for the garment and stuffs it away in the other bag. It’s a perfectly innocent thing, but Cady feels… guilty, somehow.

“I think maybe next time I’ll shop online,” Cady says as she climbs back onto the back of Janis’ bike.

“Next time?” Janis smirks.

“Shut up,” Cady laughs, resting against her shoulder again for the ride home.

—————

Friday comes around entirely too fast for Cady’s tastes. The party is tomorrow. She thinks she’s ready for another party, but she’s still not sure how this is going to go.

“Hey, Cady,” Damian greets as she’s packing up after the game.

“Hi,” Cady says with a grin. “Thanks for that save, by the way. I totally thought I was gonna break my neck.”

“So did I,” Damian chuckles. “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Cady giggles. She pulls her bow out of her hair and asks, “What’s up?”

“Janis and I have a Halloween movie night every year after she takes Stevie trick or treating, do you wanna come? It’s fun, we just eat a lot of shit and scare ourselves senseless with horror movies,” Damian says.

“I’d love to, but that sounds special to you guys,” Cady says. “I don’t wanna… crash.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Damian snorts. “Janis loves you.”

“She does?”

“Hm?” Damian hums. His eyes look a bit frantic, but he just says, “Oh, yeah. Y’know. You’re friends. We’re friends. We’re all… friends.”

“Oh,” Cady says with a nod, trying not to sound too disappointed. “I have a party tomorrow, too, though.”

“Just come by after. Then Janis and I will get our precious alone time,” Damian says, resting a dramatic hand over his heart.

“Okay, sure,” Cady giggles. “That sounds fun.”

“Cool. We’ll be at my house, just come by whenever,” Damian says. “And you can sleep over if you want.”

“I will. Thanks, Dame,” Cady grins. Damian ruffles her hair and leaves her to finish packing up with a salute.

—————

Janis invited her over to help her get ready for the party before she takes her sister out to go trick or treating. Cady dons the old zombie bride costume and tells her mom she’ll be spending the evening at Damian’s and probably spending the night. The real costume is tucked securely in her bag out of sight and not quite out of mind.

Stevie pulls the door open when Cady knocks and tackles her in a hug. “Cady!”

“Oof. Hey, Stevie,” Cady chuckles. “Happy Halloween!”

“Happy Halloween,” Stevie says with a smile. “Cool costume!”

“Thanks,” Cady says, pulling shyly on the tulle of her skirt. “I thought so. Where’s yours?”

Stevie is suddenly hit dead in the face with a pile of polyester. Janis comes the rest of the way down the stairs with a, “Get dressed, nerd.”

“Hmph,” Stevie huffs. Cady laughs when she sees the Maleficent horns Janis is wearing.

“Nice horns.”

“Thanks,” Janis grins. “Steve said I had to wear something or I’m ‘cheating at Halloween’.”

“They suit you,” Cady giggles. Stevie comes back in a long pink dress and a blonde wig with a crown. “Aww!”

“I’m a goddamn princess,” Stevie says when she peeks at herself in the mirror. Janis thwacks her on the back of the head, but Cady can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but you never sleep,” she says. “Sleeping Beauty.”

“You’re supposed to dress as something you aren’t for Halloween,” Stevie hums haughtily.

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, kid, let’s get your makeup done so I can help Caddy,” Janis says. Stevie squeals and runs up to Janis’ bedroom. Cady hesitates on the stairs. Janis notices and turns around. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Cady says hastily. She’s never seen Janis’ room before.

She follows Janis and Stevie up the stairs and down a short hallway, then through a door covered with all sorts of ‘do not enter’ and ‘hazardous’ signs.

“Wow,” Cady whispers when she sees the inside. Janis’ art covers every square inch of the walls and the ceiling. Cady can tell she’s been working on it for a long time. Years. Her style has changed a bit between pieces, and Cady can see her talent evolving as she looks at all the little doodles and murals.

Her furniture didn’t come out unscathed, either. Cady can tell these are more recent; most probably since she ran out of room anywhere else. The sheets on her bed are plain black, but there’s a bunch of pillows patterned like pride flags at the head of it. And, of course, it’s unmade. Very Janis.

“You like?” Janis asks as she grabs her makeup from her desk.

“Yeah, it’s really cool,” Cady says.

“Thanks,” Janis says with a cocky smile. Cady rolls her eyes and smiles back. “You can sit anywhere. Stevie’s shouldn’t take too long.”

Cady sits with a slight bounce on Janis’ bed. “Oh, your bed is sooooo comfy!”

Janis laughs as she falls backwards and sighs happily. “Yeah, I got a nice mattress for my birthday last year. Damian sleeps on it more than his own. Says it single-handedly fixed his back.”

“I can see why,” Cady says with a happy wiggle. Janis laughs again. Cady grunts as Stevie suddenly lands on the bed with a bounce and dislodges her from her comfy spot.

“I’m ready,” she says eagerly. Janis snorts and squeezes something onto her hand.

Cady watches as Janis gives her sister a full princess treatment. Primer, blush, mascara, eyeshadow, and a bright red lipstick. Janis acts so sarcastic with Stevie, but it’s obvious how much she actually cares about her baby sister.

“Go see,” Janis says as she finishes with a bit of setting spray. Stevie squeals and runs over to her vanity to see herself in the mirror. Cady and Janis both jump and cover their ears when she gives an excited shriek. “Jesus Christ, Steve, volume.”

“I love it!” Stevie says.

“Good,” Janis chuckles. “Go eat something.”

“But I gotta leave room for candy!” Stevie protests.

“There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”

“Bye!”

“Alright, Cads, your turn,” Janis says. “Do you wanna get dressed first, or…?”

“I probably should. This dress is kind of hard to… er, navigate,” Cady says. Janis laughs.

“My bathroom is that door there, you can change in there,” she says, pointing out the door and back down the hall a ways. Cady nods and grabs her bag.

Cady freezes for a second when she remembers that this means Janis is going to see her in lingerie. She’s still not entirely sure what to make of her feelings for the other girl, let alone in a situation like… whatever this is.

She shakes it off and pulls the bodysuit out of her bag, along with the sweatpants she brought along to keep a bit warmer until the party. She’s already shaved practically everything below her neck in preparation, so all that’s really left to do is her makeup and hair.

Janis looks up from her phone when she comes back, and gives her an award winning smile. She’s a bit pink, which Cady finds odd. Maybe she’s sick.

“You, uh… you look great,” Janis says. “You, um… you ready?”

“Your canvas awaits,” Cady says, sitting back down on Janis’ bed. Janis smiles and grabs her brushes to make Cady into a masterpiece.

Cady jumps as Janis takes a brush to her face to apply some primer. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Cady says, shutting her eyes and letting Janis work. “I should be used to it by now.”

“Plastic makeup attacks are a rite of passage,” Janis says.

“Plastic cheer makeup attacks are a whole other deal,” Cady says. “I thought normal makeup was itchy.”

“I never understood why you guys do that,” Janis says as she gently dabs a bit of tinted moisturizer into Cady’s skin with a beauty blender. “Don’t you sweat all of it off?”

“Most of it,” Cady agrees with a giggle. “I don’t understand all the… what’s the… the stuff that makes you look dead?”

“Foundation?”

“Yeah,” Cady says with a small nod. Janis laughs and gently swipes some concealer under her eyes. “I don’t get the point of doing all that. But I think the eye stuff is kind of fun.”

“It is pretty,” Janis agrees. “Must kinda blur your vision, though.”

“Oh, I almost killed myself the first game,” Cady laughs. “I couldn’t see where I was tumbling with the false eyelashes and everything. Regina only let me get away with just wearing mascara because I told her I almost broke my neck.”

“I never quite got the hang of wearing falsies either,” Janis says. “I was kind of getting towards the tail end of my time as a Plastic by the time they started getting into shit like that.”

“I still can’t imagine you as a Plastic,” Cady murmurs. Janis snorts derisively.

“Yeah, neither can I.”

Janis continues working in relative silence. Cady sits patiently. Janis is much more gentle with her than Regina or Gretchen or Karen. She even warns her before she does everything. Her hands are so soft and warm as she gently turns Cady’s face where she needs it.

Cady pops a concerned eye open when Janis suddenly growls in frustration. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t get the angle for this right like this,” Janis says, poking her tongue out in adorable frustration. Cady can hardly bear not leaning forward and kissing her. There’s three inches between their noses at most. Janis smells like the woods and acrylic paint and Cady is very annoyed that she’s not allowed to act on her urges. She doesn’t like you like that.

“Oh. How can… uh…” Cady asks. Janis suddenly presses closer and knocks Cady onto her back. Cady squeaks in surprise. This took a turn.

Janis moves until she’s on her knees hovering over Cady’s stomach and can hunch in close to her face. “Is this okay?”

“Uh… yeah,” Cady squeaks, trying not to blush as she looks into the sky blue eyes mere inches from her own. “Yeah, this-this is fine.” Not fine not fine not fine not-

“Shut your eyes for me,” Janis murmurs. Cady does, and Janis takes what feels like hundreds of tiny, tickly brushes to them. She has absolutely no idea what Janis is doing, but she’s got absolutely no intention of stopping her.

Cady almost falls asleep as Janis continues doing her makeup. The sides of her hands rest against Cady’s cheeks as she continues her eyeshadow and does her eyeliner. It’s a nice, solid feeling that gives Cady a weird sense of comfort. Janis is there.

Cady realizes she’s had her own hands held up like she’s at gunpoint for a solid five minutes. Her arms are starting to ache, but she isn’t sure what else to do with them. She rests them on the bed over her head and stretches the slightest bit.

“Almost done,” Janis says as she takes the eyeliner crayon they’d bought at the store. “What kind of shape is a lion’s nose?”

“Um… kind of like a really big mushroom,” Cady says. She tries her best to make a shape with her fingers. “Like…”

“Okay,” Janis chuckles gently. Cady feels her draw and fill in a roughly correct shape on her nose and draw three lines over each of her cheeks to be her whiskers. She tosses the crayon aside and grabs the eyelash glue. “This is gonna get really really itchy as the night goes on, just warning you now.”

“I’ll live,” Cady chuckles. Janis dabs it over the lines she drew and then takes a brush to add the black glitter.

She does it in small bits so that the glue doesn’t dry before she gets a chance to add the glitter. She starts with the whiskers, and then does the nose.

And then catastrophe strikes.

“I have to sneeze,” Cady says suddenly.

“Don’t,” Janis replies calmly.

“I can’t con- I gotta sneeze!”

“But don’t,” Janis says. Cady tries to hold it off, but Janis scrambles back with all her supplies when Cady inhales heavily. Cady sneezes violently, with just enough time to cover her nose and mouth so she doesn’t sneeze directly in Janis’ face. Janis bites her lip before she bursts out laughing. Cady can’t help but join her.

“Stop laughing, I had to sneeze!”

“I said no!”

“You can’t say no, I had to sneeze!” Cady laughs.

“You have cute sneezes,” Janis chuckles quietly as she leans back over to finish her work. Cady can feel herself blush. She can only hope Janis doesn’t notice.

She’s still really hoping Janis will just lean down to kiss her.

She doesn’t.

“That’s not heterosexual,” Stevie says suddenly. Cady and Janis both scream and jump apart. Stevie is lounging casually against the wall in her full princess getup and munching on some pizza.

“Stevie! I’m gonna fucking kill you, I swear to god!” Janis growls.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Stevie replies easily. “I thought Cady was a zombie.”

“I have… two costumes,” Cady says. She hopes Stevie buys that as the only reason.

“Oh. Cool.”

Cady grabs her ears from her bag and slides them onto her head. It is a cute look. With her hair color and how fluffy her curls are today she looks like she has a mane. Her lion ears just barely poke out, and the outfit does tie it all together quite nicely. She can already tell she’s going to be absolutely freezing, but it’ll be worth it. For Janis.

She turns around with her hands held to her sides for Janis to assess. Janis smiles at her and says, “Perfect.”

“I’m cold already,” Cady says.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look too warm,” Janis chuckles, almost sadly. “At least you aren’t coming trick or treating with us. Think you’d be a Caddy-lion-popsicle by the end.”

“I kinda wish I was,” Cady mumbles, fiddling with the drawstring on her pants.

“Maybe next year,” Janis says, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, taking a deep breath to try to settle her nerves. She stuffs the zombie bride costume into her bag and zips it shut with a, “Have fun.”

“You too,” Janis says, looking at her in a way Cady can’t quite describe. Concern? Affection? Both? Both. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Cady says as Janis leads her back down the stairs and they’re face to face just inside the front door.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Janis asks suddenly, like she’s been holding the words back for ages and just can’t do it anymore. Cady looks up at her.

“I’ll be fine,” she says calmingly. “Karen promised me Shane wouldn’t be there. She says she doesn’t like him either.”

“Okay,” Janis says, visibly relaxing a bit. “You can, like… call me if something happens. Just… you know, just in case. I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks,” Cady says with a smile. “I’m not gonna drink or anything this time, so… I think I’ll be alright.”

“Good,” Janis says. “But you should still be careful. Get your own drinks, even if they aren’t booze. And keep them covered and watch them and stuff. Shane isn’t the only asshole around. Just… be careful.”

“I will,” Cady promises, taking and squeezing her hand. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry. But I’ll call you if something happens, okay?”

“Okay,” Janis says. “Have fun.”

“You too,” Cady says.

“Stevie, Caddy’s leaving, time to go!” Janis calls to her sister in the kitchen. Stevie comes running as quickly as she can in her fluffy dress to hug her goodbye.

“Bye, Steve,” Cady says as she squeezes the little girl. “I’ll see you soon. Save me some candy.”

Janis snorts. “Fat chance of that.”

“I will,” Stevie says with a smile, seemingly just to spite her sister. “Bye Cady!”

“Bye!” Cady says as she shuts the door and starts the walk to Karen’s house. She’s suddenly wondering if she shouldn’t cancel at the last minute and just spend the evening with Janis and Stevie, but she’s already bought her costume. No sense wasting it now.

—-

“Hey, Cady!” Karen greets brightly. Wow. Janis was right.

Karen’s in some kind of lingerie too, in a style Cady doesn’t know the name of with a matching bra and panty set beneath it. “Hi. Nice costume. What… um… what is it?”

“I’m a mouse, duh,” Karen says. Cady tilts her head in confusion. She squints a bit, and can… almost see a mouse. Karen seems to notice the confusion on her face and pats the top of her head. “Ohhh. I lost my ears.”

“Oh,” Cady says. “I’ll help you look. Is there somewhere I can put my stuff? I don’t, um… really want people getting into it.”

“You can put it in my room, I always lock my door now,” Karen says. She seems a bit haunted as she explains. What’s happened in her room? “This way.”

Karen’s house isn’t anywhere near as big as Regina’s or even Janis’, but it’s still nice. She knows from talking to her that Karen has a single father too. Whatever he does for a living must pay pretty well. Either that, or he gets a hell of an alimony payment from Karen’s mother.

Karen stops outside a door and pulls a key out of her bra to unlock it. Cady steps in, pulls her phone and tail out of her bag and her sweatpants off, stuffs the pants into her bag, and returns to her friend. Karen re-locks the door after her and returns the key to its place.

“Where do you think your ears are?” Cady asks as she follows her friend back downstairs.

“I dunno, I had them a few minutes ago,” Karen hums. “I was decorating the kitchen. And the bathroom. And the living room. And the backyard-”

“Let’s just check everywhere,” Cady interrupts. “You check the bathroom, I’ll look in the kitchen.”

Cady doesn’t actually know where the kitchen is, but finding it can’t be too hard. Karen bounces her way off in the direction of the bathroom. Cady turns the other way and starts looking for the kitchen.

Karen’s kitchen is huge. And, to Cady’s delight, full of food for the partiers. She sneaks a couple carrots from the veggie platter laid out on the counter and nibbles on them while she pokes around on the hunt for Karen’s mouse ears.

She checks everywhere that makes sense for them to be. Nothing. Then Cady remembers that Karen herself seldom makes sense. Where would be a strange place for them to be?

Cady checks the oven, hoping beyond hope that they aren’t there. Luckily, the only thing inside are some ashes and old grease. She double checks inside all the cabinets. Nothing there either. The potted plant on the windowsill has nothing for her other than some beautiful leaves.

Last but not least, Cady opens the fridge. And, sure enough, the ears are there, wrapped around a very large bottle of vodka. She grabs them and closes the doors again, calling, “Karen, I found them!”

Karen comes clicking into the room with a smile on her face. “Oh, hey! Thanks, where were they?”

“In the fridge,” Cady giggles.

“Again?” Karen asks herself in exasperation. “Anyway, thanks.”

“No problem,” Cady says. “Oh, hey, could you help me with my tail?”

Karen nods, so Cady hands it to her and turns around. Karen helpfully pins it to the back of her costume. Cady knows it’s entirely in the wrong place. It’s supposed to get people looking at your ass, not to be anatomically correct, she reminds herself.

“What are you?” Karen asks once Cady’s tail is secure.

“A lion,” Cady sighs, fluffing out her hair to look even more mane-like.

“Aww, we’re both animals!” Karen says. “Mouse emoji. Okay, everything should be ready now.”

“It looks great,” Cady says. Karen really went all out with the decorations. There’s even a giant skeleton in the backyard, looming ominously over the pool it’s entirely too cold out to use.

“Thanks!” Karen chirps. Cady smiles and nods. Karen heads to go let the guests in as they start arriving. Cady decides the veggie tray is going to be her companion for this party.

She and Janis haven’t done too much planning in terms of things they can actually do to get their revenge party kicked off, so Cady’s plan for tonight is just to get whatever she can in terms of useful information. Maybe Gretchen or Aaron will pick tonight to get a little more tipsy than they should. Cady will use anything to her advantage.

She’s nibbling on a celery stick and trying to ignore the already unruly people slowly filling the house around her when she hears Regina talking to Karen. “You invited Cady? God, we don’t have to take her everywhere, you know.”

“She’s our friend,” Karen says in confusion. Cady can practically hear Regina rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Whatever,” she says.

Cady turns around and decides she should go talk to some people. Wow, did we all dress as animals?

Regina is dressed as what Cady can only assume is a rabbit. The shapes are all there, but for whatever reason, the costume is bright red with black and white accents. Aaron, ever the dutiful boyfriend, stands at her side in a suit with a cape and a top hat. The costumes don’t quite go together, but it’s obvious they’re meant to be a duo somehow. They have only been back together for a two weeks. They must’ve had to pull whatever this is together quite quickly.

“Hey!” Cady greets brightly, pretending as best she can that she hasn’t just overheard their conversation. “You guys look great!”

“Thanks,” Regina hums, looking Cady up and down.

“So do you,” Aaron says, surreptitiously nudging Regina with his elbow. “Lion?”

“Yeah,” Cady says sheepishly, fidgeting with the end of one of her sleeves. “What are you guys?”

“A magician and a rabbit,” Regina sighs. The magician was definitely Aaron’s last minute idea, then.

“Cool!” Cady says. Aaron shoots her a sweet, dorky smile that would’ve made Cady completely weak in the knees a month ago. Now, she just smiles back. Handsome, but not for me.

The party passes without incident. Gretchen did indeed get a little bit more drunk than Cady thinks she meant to, so Cady stuck by her side through most of it. Both to see what details she’d let slip that she and Janis could use and to make sure nobody tried anything on her friend.

Luckily, nothing of the latter and plenty of the former. None of it is really anything they can act on, but the fact that Gretchen so easily aired Regina’s dirty laundry gives Cady a lot of hope as to how this will all turn out.

Cady bounces around for a while, sipping carefully at a soda and people watching. She’s present enough this time to learn how funny it is to watch drunk people try to dance. So. Many. Wipeouts.

She decides to leave when her heart starts beating in time with the music and she can feel her sinuses rattling with the bass. She’s overwhelmed, and if she stays too much longer, it’s a slippery slope to a complete teary meltdown.

She hugs a quite intoxicated Karen goodbye and thanks her for the invite before she leaves the house and starts the trek to Damian’s house.

The cool night air helps calm her down. It shocks her back into her body enough that she can take some deep breaths and listen to the quiet, peaceful sounds of the night falling around her. Distant birds; the low, even thrum of cars a few streets over; the hum of the streetlights above her head. Much better.

—-

Cady pulls off her ears and massages behind her temples as she rings Damian’s doorbell. She hears what sounds like a distant scream, and then footsteps.

Damian pulls the door open with a hand held over his heart and his breathing noticeably heavy. “Hey, Cads.”

“Hi,” Cady says. She tilts her head in concern and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Damian chuckles. “Scary movie. We weren’t expecting the doorbell.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Cady says sheepishly.

“It’s fine. Come on,” Damian says. Cady follows him inside.

“Your house is nice,” she says politely.

“Thank you! Welcome to Casa Hubbard,” Damian chuckles. “My mom’s at work, so it’s just us, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cady says. “Where does she work?”

“She’s a nurse, she works at the hospital nearby,” Damian says.

“Oh.” Cady says. “That’s neat.”

“Yeah,” Damian says, seeming to realize the reason behind her awkward response. “You’ll get to meet her at some point, I’m sure. Anyway. Down here.”

Cady follows him down the stairs to the basement. There’s an interesting smell, loads of food, and Janis sprawled on a very small couch staring languidly at the TV Damian left playing. Janis looks at them upside down off the arm of the sofa when she hears their footsteps on the stairs, and she gets a goofy smile on her face when she sees Cady.

“Caddy!” she says happily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Cady says.

“How was the paaaaaaaaarty?”

“Um… fine,” Cady says in confusion.

“That’s goooood.” Janis hums. She seems content with that, and the conversation ends there.

“Cool outfit,” Damian says. “I like the makeup.”

“Thanks,” Cady grins. “Janis did it.”

“Did she now?” Damian hums, poking his tongue into his cheek. “Interesting. Are you, um… gonna… sleep in that?”

“No, I- shit!” Cady says. “I… packed clothes but I left them at Karen’s place.”

“Do you wanna go home and grab some?”

“No, my parents are there, they’ll get suspicious. They don’t know I was at a party, they think I came straight here,” Cady says. “I guess I am sleeping like this.”

“Janis keeps some pajamas here, you can borrow hers,” Damian says. “She’s closer to your size than me.”

“But what about her?”

“What about who?” Janis pipes up from the couch.

“You,” Cady says. Janis frowns in confusion.

“What about what about me?”

“Caddy forgot her pajamas at Karen’s. Can she borrow yours?” Damian asks.

“Can I borrow yours?” Janis retaliates.

“No, you’re icky,” Damian says sarcastically. “Yes. Will you go get them?”

“Why meeeee?” Janis whines.

“Because I got Caddy. Your turn, bitch,” Damian says, flopping down on the couch next to her.

“Hmph,” Janis grumbles as she walks by Cady and slugs her way up the stairs. Cady sheepishly goes to sit next to her friend.

“What movie is this?”

“Children of the Corn,” Damian says. “It’s really dumb, but we watch it every year.”

“Cool,” Cady grins. She cuddles into his side and watches the end of the movie with him. “Hey, can I ask you something? Something kind of… personal?”

Damian looks at her with a confused frown. “Sure.”

“How did you know you were gay?” Cady asks quietly.

“Oh. Um…”

“You don’t have to answer if it’s, like, uncomfy, or anything,” Cady says hastily. “I just-”

“Little Slice, it’s fine,” Damian chuckles. “I kind of… always knew, I guess. I was kind of stereotypically fruity as a kid. I liked princesses and dolls better than superheroes and trucks. And then when I got older all the other guys talked about how hot all the girls were and stuff, but I never really felt anything other than wanting to be friends with a few. And then I met a boy at arts camp one summer and was absolutely obsessed with him. Like, too… too obsessed.” He chuckles nervously. “But that was my first real crush. And I realized I had felt that way about a few boys before, and there have been more since. And it’s always been guys, never girls.”

“Oh,” Cady says softly, picking at her chipping nail polish.

“Why?” Damian asks, gently squeezing her hand.

“I… kind of like a girl,” Cady mumbles. Damian squeals sharply into her ear and takes both her hands in his large ones.

“Ooh! Tell me everything,” he says eagerly.

“I think I’ve really liked her for a while,” Cady begins anxiously. She is right upstairs, after all. “But I just realized it, like, a week ago. And I already can’t stand it. I wasn’t sure at first, because I also really liked Aaron, and I’ve never had a crush on a girl before. But I, like, really wanna kiss her. And I don’t think that’s normal.”

“Aww,” Damian coos. “My baby queer.”

“That’s what I was gonna ask you about,” Cady says sheepishly. “You seem, um… knowledgeable. About… gay stuff. I don’t know anything, and it’s really scary. Not being able to explain who I am, you know?”

“Yeah,” Damian says comfortingly. “I am quite knowledgeable. Can you tell me a little bit more and I’ll see if I can tell you anything that might fit?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cady says. Damian lets go of her hands and allows her to wipe the sweat off on the cushion behind her. He leans against the back of his couch on his hand while Cady stares at her bare legs and fidgets with her fingers. “I just, like… in Kenya I was almost never around other people. There were a few I got crushes on when I was little and stuff. And they were always… guys. But since I realized I really like… this girl, I’ve been thinking about it more, and I kind of- this sounds weird, but I really relate to the animals? Like, a lot of them will just mate with… anything. Male, female, a rock. They just want the pleasure of the interaction. And I kind of… want that with romance. I don’t really care who they are, I just… want a person, you know?”

“You might be pan,” Damian says when she finishes.

“Like… for cooking?” Cady asks in confusion.

“No,” Damian laughs. “Pansexual. Or panromantic, for you. The sexual attraction is a whole other thing. Unless you feel basically the same about sex.”

“I think I do, I dunno,” Cady says. “I feel a little bit less for guys after, uh… Shane. But I think it’s basically the same.”

“Pan just means that you’re attracted to someone regardless of their gender, or what body they’re in, basically,” Damian explains. “Into the wine, not the label, and all that.”

“What?”

“You haven’t seen Schitt’s Creek?” Damian gasps. “Oh, honey.”

“Janis says she’s gonna show me everything I need to watch. She calls it my America classes,” Cady explains with a fond smile.

“Speak of the devil,” Damian says as Janis comes back down the stairs clad in some of Damian’s sweats. She tosses a pile of fabric at Cady and another at Damian.

“Bitch!” she scoffs.

“You literally have horns!” Damian retaliates. “Don’t bitch me, bitch.”

“I’ll bitch you all I want, bitch,” Janis says. “Caddy, this is a bathroom if you wanna change.”

“Thanks,” Cady says. She stands and pads over to the door Janis pointed to, shutting and locking it after herself. She pulls off the bodysuit and her tail and tugs on the cozy sweatpants and band t-shirt, both worn soft by years of wear.

She closes the lid to the toilet as quietly as she can and sits down on it. She pulls out her phone and opens Google, typing pansexual definition into the search bar. Her thumb hovers anxiously over the blue button for a second before she hits go.

Pansexuality is sexual, romantic, or emotional attraction towards people regardless of their sex or gender identity. Pansexual people may refer to themselves ...

Cady hits the read more button and reads through the entire Wikipedia page. The further into it she gets, the more correct it sounds. She sniffs and wipes tears brimming in her eyes. It’s me.

She stares at the flag longer than she probably should. She realizes with a start that she’s been in the bathroom for quite a while, and her friends are probably starting to get worried.

Sheepishly, Cady unlocks the door and heads back out to them. “Hi.”

“Hey, Little Slice,” Damian greets brightly. “You didn’t take your makeup off?”

Cady pats her face, and she can feel the scratch of the glitter on her ‘whiskers’ beneath the pads of her fingers. “Oh, oops. Janis, do you have any makeup remover?”

“No,” Janis replies.

“I do,” Damian says at the same time. “In the medicine cabinet.”

“Thanks,” Cady says. She turns back around to go find it. Janis apparently does the same. Cady screams as a pale hand suddenly reaches over her shoulder to open the cabinet in the bathroom for her.

“Sorry,” Janis chuckles gently.

“Don’t do that,” Cady giggles anxiously, a hand held over her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart. “What are you doing?”

“I put the makeup on you, I think it’s only fair I help you get it off,” Janis responds. “And Damian will actually slaughter me if I let you do it wrong and damage your precious little face.”

“Oh,” Cady says breathlessly. “Okay.”

“Look at me,” Janis instructs. Cady does, turning around and looking up at her friend’s face. Up close, she can see how red Janis’ eyes are, and she frowns.

“Have you been crying? Your eyes are red,” Cady asks softly. “Are you okay?”

“Caddy,” Janis responds quietly, gently cupping Cady’s face in her warm hands. Cady has to actively resist leaning into them. “I’m really high.”

“Ohhh,” Cady says. “That’s what the smell is.”

“Yeah,” Janis snorts. “Damian and I added weed to our Halloween movie night a few years ago. We just get stoned, eat, and watch random shit.”

“Sounds fun,” Cady says.

“It is,” Janis says. She soaks a few cotton pads in something and hands Cady one. “Hold that on your nose, it’ll dissolve the glue holding the glitter on.”

Cady does, and Janis holds the other two pads to each of her cheeks. Cady tries not to stare into Janis’ eyes, but she just has to. The bloodshot look somehow just makes the sky blue of her irises pop even more than they normally do. “Your eyes are really pretty.”

Why the hell would you say that?! she asks herself frantically. Now she’s gonna know-

“Thanks,” Janis whispers. “So are yours.”

Cady continues looking over every little detail of her friend’s face, trying to memorize what she can. Who knows when she’ll be this close to Janis next?

“That should be good,” Janis murmurs after about a minute. Cady pulls the pad off her nose and looks to Janis for further instruction. Janis gently rubs the pads she had held against her cheeks around to remove the glitter and the eyeliner whiskers as much as she can. Cady scrunches up her face as she does the same to her nose.

“Tickles,” she murmurs.

“You’re cute,” Janis whispers as she soaks another two pads in something else. “This is for your eye makeup.”

Cady takes them and closes her eyes, pressing the pads to her eyelids to soak off the makeup there. “Oh, this feels nice.”

“Damian has all the good shit. I would’ve shredded my skin learning to do my makeup if I didn’t have him,” Janis chuckles.

“How long have you guys known each other?” Cady asks, looking in what she hopes is Janis’ direction with the cotton pads still pressed to her eyes.

“First grade,” Janis responds. “You can rub those around now.” Cady does. “I broke his nose.”

“Really?” Cady asks with a shocked laugh as she swipes her eye makeup off.

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. She tosses the pads into the garbage can and scoops out a small bit of something from a blue tub. She rests it on Cady’s fingers. “Rub this in like you’re washing your face. It’s a cleansing oil.”

Cady does, looking in the mirror to see where she needs to apply it. She looks a bit like a raccoon with her eyeliner and mascara still smeared around her eyes, but she’s definitely back on her way to Cady and not a lion. “How did you break his nose?”

“Punched him,” Janis responds simply. “He said girls couldn’t punch. I proved him wrong.”

“And he still wanted to be your friend?”

“Oh, yeah, it was his idea,” Janis chuckles. “We got sent to the office together and got to talking. He said I punched good and stood up for me when my dad came to pick me up. And then we sat next to each other the next day and that was that. He’s been my best friend ever since.”

“That’s… weirdly really adorable,” Cady chuckles as she finishes massaging the oil all over her face. “Now what?”

“Get it wet but don’t rinse it off,” Janis instructs, leaning against the wall behind her and meeting her eyes in the mirror. Cady shoots her a confused look. “Just splash a little water on your face.”

Cady does. Janis tells her to rub it in again, so Cady listens. She doesn’t totally understand how this works, but it feels nice, so she doesn’t say anything about it.

Janis grabs a bottle of something else while Cady rinses the cleansing oil off her face and gives her a pump of it. Cady looks at her expectantly.

“Cleanser,” Janis sighs, clearly having been put through this process by Damian countless times before. “Same thing.”

Cady finishes washing her face like normal. Janis grabs what Cady hopes are the last products while she pats her face dry with a cushy towel.

“Close your eyes,” Janis instructs as she shakes a spray bottle of… something. “And hold your breath.”

Cady listens and winces as Janis spritzes her with whatever it is. “Ooh. That smells nice.”

“Yeah, I dunno what it is,” Janis replies with a chuckle.

“You don’t even know what it is? And you put it on my face?” Cady giggles.

“It’s… some kind of toner, I don’t know. You can trust Damian if you don’t trust me,” Janis replies as she gently taps something else over her skin and starts massaging it in.

“I do trust you,” Cady says softly, closing her eyes contently and relishing in the feel of Janis’ soft hands gently rubbing in the product. “Your hands are soft.”

“Thanks,” Janis whispers. She gently strokes the pad of her thumb up and down the bridge of Cady’s nose to get some she’d missed. Cady almost falls asleep standing up. “There.”

“Thanks,” Cady says, grinning up at her friend. She gets a burst of courage upon looking into Janis’ eyes once more and leans in to wrap her in a tight hug. Janis seems surprised and tenses briefly underneath her, but she quickly wraps her arms around Cady’s shoulders and squishes her close. She rests her cheek on top of Cady’s head and absentmindedly rubs her thumb back and forth over her shoulder.

Cady wants to stay here forever.

To keep things as platonic as she can, she pulls back after a minute at most and gives Janis a friendly smile before they head back out to join Damian.

“Oh my god, there you are!” he says dramatically. He’s clearly also partaken in the weed while they’ve been getting Cady taken care of. “You guys took foreveeeeer.”

“You’re the one who insisted on doing it properly,” Janis responds. “Gimme.”

Damian passes her the… Cady isn’t sure of the term, but whatever it is they’re smoking. Janis inhales some and settles in on the couch. Damian asks, “Did you moisturize her?”

“Yes,” Janis says with a roll of her eyes.

“But did you use the ton-”

“Yes! I did everything you told me to,” Janis says.

“But did you?”

“She did,” Cady giggles. “I promise.”

“Mmkay,” Damian hums suspiciously. “Ooh, you’re glowing! Look at you!”

“Thanks,” Cady says as she sits down in between them. There’s not much room on the couch; it’s really more of a loveseat at best. She winds up pressed quite heavily against Janis’ side. “What are we watching?”

“What do you want to watch?” Damian responds, languidly grabbing the remote and flicking through the Halloween section of some various streaming services.

“I dunno,” Cady says. “I’m not really a scary movie person.”

“Hmm,” Damian hums pensively.

“Caddy, do you want some?” Janis asks from her other side. Cady looks to see her offering her the… whatever it’s called.

“Oh, um… no thank you,” Cady says. Janis nods and takes it back for herself.

“Up to you,” she says. That simple sentence fills Cady with such relief. She smiles faintly and leans in the slightest little bit closer.

Damian suddenly gives a delighted gasp as he finds something. Cady looks at him. “Is this gonna be scary?”

“Oh, yeah,” Damian says. “Just not in the way you’re expecting.”

Cady frowns in confusion and looks at the screen. Do scary movies usually have theme music?

“Is this a horror movie?” Janis stage whispers.

“No, it’s the DoodleBops,” Damian whispers back.

“Shit,” Janis replies. “We watched this as kids?”

“I dunno who this we is, but apparently some sadder people out there have, yes.”

Cady quickly learns what Damian meant. Janis and Damian are both staring blankly at the screen. Cady is too, but she’s confused by the colorful figures dancing and singing at her on the screen. “What is this?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Janis responds, sounding absolutely shaken to the core.

“It’s amazing,” Damian responds. He’s on the opposite end of the spectrum, sounding absolutely delighted by what he’s seeing and actually bopping his head a little bit to the musical numbers.

Cady isn’t entirely sure what to make of the situation. It doesn’t seem like something Janis and Damian would watch ordinarily. Must be the drugs.

Cady’s half wondering if she shouldn’t try some just to get the full experience when Janis sags a little further into the couch, almost like she’s becoming one with it, and groans, “Where’s your dooooog?”

“Oh, dog!” Damian exclaims in horror, doing exactly the opposite as he leaps off the couch and goes running to the door.

Janis takes advantage of his absence to reach across Cady and snatch the remote to turn the strange show off. “That’s enough of that.”

“He has a dog?” Cady asks happily.

“Yeah,” Janis says, resting her clearly too-heavy head on Cady’s shoulder and browsing through Netflix. “Golden lab.”

Cady squeals and sits a little more upright. Janis whines quietly and shifts with her. Cady’s almost shaking in her excitement, hoping the dog makes an appearance with Damian when he returns.

She feels like all of her dreams have come true when the puppy comes barreling down the stairs and directly up to Cady, its entire back half wiggling in delight as it sniffs happily at the new human.

“Hi!” Cady says just as happily as she offers her hands to sniff before she rubs the pup behind the ears.

“Hey Stanley,” Janis greets, wrapping her entire hand gently around the dog’s snout and wiggling its head back and forth. The dog is completely unphased and hops up next to Cady to take Damian’s place.

“What a good boy,” Cady coos as the dog rolls over to show off its tummy for some belly rubs. Cady happily obliges.

“No, she’s a girl,” Janis chuckles. “We found her on the sidewalk when we were in sixth grade and Dame named her Stanley. And then we took her to the vet to get checked out and they told us she’s a girl. But Stanley stuck.”

“What a good girl,” Cady amends. “Stanley.”

“Stanley,” Damian groans. “Get down, you’re in my spot.”

“But I love her,” Cady pouts, gently hugging the puppy. Stanley wags her tail happily to show her agreement.

“This dog is never not in the way,” Damian sighs. He carefully lifts the dog’s backside and sits down. It’s quite crowded now with three people and a dog, but Cady is certainly not complaining. “Hey, what happened to the DoodleBops?”

“Something I cannot fathom,” Janis mutters to herself. “Caddy hasn’t seen Stranger Things.”

“Oh,” Damian says, suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation. Cady still doesn’t totally get it, but she watches in excitement as the opening music starts playing.

“Aww,” Cady says when the kids make their first appearance. “They’re so cute!”

“Just wait,” Janis says ominously. Cady does. She almost cries when Will goes missing, and finds herself subconsciously leaning closer to Janis for comfort from the sadness and spooks.

She eventually ends up on the ground with Stanley; both of them having felt a bit suffocated on the loveseat with all four of them. Janis shifts to lie down as much as she can, her head in Damian’s lap and her arm dangling off the side of the couch, resting on Cady’s shoulder. Cady leans against it and smiles as Janis uses it to hug her and play with her hair.

Stanley rests her head on Cady’s lap and drifts off for a nap. Cady continues watching the show contently and gently pets the pup from time to time. Janis does the same to Cady.

Cady hasn’t felt this safe since she moved to America. Hasn’t felt so… home. Like she knows she’s supposed to be where she is. Like she’s… found where she belongs.

—-

“I’m goin’ to bed,” Janis groans after a while, stretching and sitting upright.

“Goodnight,” Cady says gently. Janis grins at her with her adorable sleepy face and Cady only shrieks internally for thirty seconds. She watches as Janis pads over to the shelf in the corner and tugs down a sleeping bag before she unrolls it and climbs in.

Stanley apparently decides to join her. Cady pouts as she stretches and yawns before trotting over and curling up next to Janis. Janis maneuvers the sleeping bag enough that she’s effectively spooning the dog and shuts her eyes.

Cady climbs back up next to Damian and leans against his arm. Damian turns the volume of the TV down so he and Cady can continue watching without disturbing Janis.

They don’t say anything for a few episodes. Damian seems perfectly content to cuddle with Cady and watch the show. Cady is a little more antsy, shifting positions every few minutes and trying to keep from looking over at Janis.

She looks so peaceful when she’s asleep. Her hair is fanned out around her like a half-blonde halo. She groans quietly, making Cady worried they’ve woken her up, but Janis just rolls onto her back and shifts her arms to rest above her head ballet dancer style. So cute.

Apparently Damian notices that Cady hasn’t been successful in her don’t look at Janis mission, because he turns the TV down a little bit more and quietly asks, “Is it her?”

“What?” Cady asks in shock. Damian looks at her with a knowing look in his eye.

“Your girl crush. Is it Janis?” Damian asks. Shit. He’ll know if Cady lies, but he’s also Janis’ lifelong best friend. Would he tell her if I said yes? What do I do? “I won’t tell her either way.”

“You won’t?” Cady asks.

“No way,” Damian scoffs dramatically. “That’s your job. You get to do that if and when you think you’re ready.”

“…Yeah, it is,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell her.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no way she likes me back,” Cady says sadly. “And I don’t… want her to think I’m faking. Like I’m so desperate that I fell for the first girl who likes girls I’ve ever met, you know?”

“She wouldn’t,” Damian says soothingly. “Every gay person has to start somewhere. Janis just happens to also be the first one you met. You come from different circumstances than most of us do, that’s not your fault. She’d understand.”

“She still doesn’t like me back,” Cady mumbles.

“Do you know that for sure?” Damian asks.

“Um… no, I guess not,” Cady says in confusion. “But she hasn’t, like… shown any signs of being interested in me.”

“That you’ve noticed,” Damian says. “Janis doesn’t… show affection easily. Not the way most people do. She has to do a lot more to keep herself safe than she should. It’s really hard for her to open up.”

Why is he telling me this? Cady asks herself. “You really think I have a shot with her?”

“That I can’t say,” Damian says. “But you both deserve to be happy. Whether that’s with or without the other. And this seems like it’s weighing on you a lot already.”

“It is,” Cady agrees with a sigh. “You think I should tell her?”

“Do you want this to go somewhere?”

“Yes,” Cady whispers. “I do.”

“Then yes. I think you should tell her,” Damian says. Cady mulls this over.

“I… I’ll think about it,” she says after a while.

“Whatever makes you happy, Merida. Can we sleep now?” Damian asks.

“Yeah,” Cady giggles. “I’m sleepy.”

“Me too,” Damian says. “Let me get you all set up.”

“I can do it,” Cady says.

“Nonsense. It’s your first sleepover with us, you gotta get the special treatment so you stick around,” Damian says. He grabs another sleeping bag off the shelf Janis got hers from and unrolls it on the ground. Cady isn’t sure how to react when she sees just how close to Janis he placed it. She stands and pads over to him sheepishly as he grabs a pillow for her.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Damian says. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Cady echoes, eagerly accepting the hug he offers and giving her friend a good squeeze. He somehow manages to squish his entire body into a comfortable position on the loveseat and drift off within a few minutes. Good for him.

Cady carefully climbs into her sleeping bag. She apparently wasn’t careful enough, because when she settles on the pillow, Janis is awake and staring at her.

“Hi,” Cady whispers.

“Hi,” Janis whispers back, her voice adorably rough with sleep.

“Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay,” Janis replies. “You have fun?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, instantly and honestly. “Loads.”

“Good,” Janis grins. Cady smiles back and tugs the sleeping bag a little higher around her chin. Janis’ eyes rove over her face in the darkness. What she’s looking at or looking for, Cady can’t be sure. She’s panicking too hard to question her about it.

She panics harder when she suddenly remembers she’s in Janis’ pajamas, too. It’s so oddly domestic in a way Cady wasn’t expecting. Sleeping next to her crush, wearing her things. Cady can almost pretend they’re falling asleep together in a real bed, tangled together. That Stanley, sound asleep at their feet, is a dog of their own. That the sleeping bags aren’t prisons separating them and they’re freely allowed to tangle together and cuddle each other close.

But for now, Cady has to be content with her fleecy warm sleeping bag and having friendly boundaries with her crush. She takes a deep breath, relishing in the faint smell of Janis coming off the pajama shirt she’s wearing, and murmurs a, “Goodnight, Jay.”

“G’night, Caddy,” Janis whispers back.

Neither of them roll over, and they drift off to sleep face to face.

—————

thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed!!

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #karen smith #gretchen wieners #aaron samuels #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #mean girls on broadway #picking teams

21 notes · View notes