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Zakandsara's Drabble Challenge!

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Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Debbie
Debbie shut the bathroom light off and slowly made her way into the bedroom, where Lou was already lounging in her signature ripped-rocker-tee-and-comfy-underwear bedtime combo. She had her glasses on, which Debbie always found oddly comforting- to know Lou was really herself only in these small moments she had access to made her heart unexpectedly swell. She read her hardback book voraciously, barely even registering Debbie’s entrance. 
“Whatcha reading?” Debbie asked playfully as she slipped into bed. 
Lou slowly closed the book, drinking in the last few lines on the page before shutting it and setting it on the night table. She turned to Debbie. “Hmm?”
“Nothing,” the brunette chuckled. “How was dinner?”
“Surprisingly, not burned,” she reported back. 
“A first for a Constance dinner.”
“Indeed,” Lou agreed, pushing her glasses to the top of her head and rubbing her eyes. She groaned, almost to herself. “It feels like 3AM.” 
Debbie sat up and put a hand on Lou’s neck, rubbing gently. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s only 10.”   
Lou half-smiled, but moved out of Debbie’s reach as she leaned down to pull the covers over her legs. Debbie noticed, as she wordlessly resumed her post, that Lou had goosebumps. “You okay?” she finally asked, trying to sound as casual as possible so as not to make Lou feel smothered. Nothing turned that woman off more than direct care and loving attention. 
“Just tired,” she answered quietly, turning her head toward Debbie and nuzzling her face into the hand that now held the blonde woman’s face. “Thanks,” she whispered, Debbie assumed, in reference to the massage, but secretly hoped she might've meant more. 
She finally pulled her hand away and tucked Lou’s messy hair behind her ear. “You feel warm,” she told the woman, not with alarm or worry, but as a fact. 
Lou nodded. “I have a cold,” she stated, eyes still closed, blankets still pulled close to her chest. 
“Then I think it’s bed time,” Debbie concluded, kneeling up on the bed and leaning over the half-asleep Lou to shut the light off. “If you need anything...”
“Heh’UHschhht!” Lou curled into herself further. “I won’t.”
Debbie recoiled. “Bless you,” she whispered, settling into her side of the bed. 
They lay in silence for what felt like hours until Debbie felt a warm body sidle up against her back.
“Thank you,” Lou barely said out loud, and this time, Debbie knew it was for so much. 

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These are all seriously so so so lovely. I could read everything you write all day long. 

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Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Tammy
Prompts: 68- Attitude, 93- Weather 
“It’s so shitty out,” Lou groaned from the passenger seat, squinting through the steamed-up window out into the dark sky. 
“I like it,” Tammy admitted, nuzzling deeper into her turtleneck sweater. She flipped on the windshield wipers, which hardly helped combat the downpour. 
Lou leaned over the middle console on her elbow and turned to the blonde woman. “Why? It’s miserable.” 
She shrugged. “Makes me feel like I don’t have to be productive.”
Lou half-smiled. “But we are being productive. A little too productive, some might say.” She looked to the backseat, where boxes and bags filled with materials for Debbie’s next big idea were gathered. 
“Sure,” Tammy agreed. “But now, we can just go home and snuggle up on the couch without feeling guilty.”
We can?” Lou raised an eyebrow. 
“Not you-and-I ‘we,’” Tammy quickly clarified. “We, separately.” 
“Ah,” Lou teasingly agreed. “Sounds...great, actually.”
Tammy turned to her, head cocked in surprise. “Yeah? You don’t seem like a relaxation kinda gal.”
Lou chuckled. “I’m not.” She looked out the window again, this time, the rain so heavy she could barely see the curb. “But this rain is...”
Tammy waited for the end of the sentence, but it never came. “...is?” 
She turned to Lou for the final answer, but found her with her face buried in a napkin. “Mmph’tESchhh-uh!!”
“Bless you!” Tammy was taken aback by the sudden outburst. 
Lou wiped her nose. “It’s a good thing Deb never cleans out the car,” she said, opening the glove compartment to reveal a thick wad of napkins with various branded logos printed on them. She pulled a bunch out. 
“I have tissues in my bag if-“
“Hmp’IschhhTch!!” She crinkled her nose, keeping a Starbucks napkin handily hovering below. 
“Uh-oh,” Tammy sized the woman up, raising an eyebrow. 
Lou squinted at her, but quickly bent into the napkin draped over her hand. “HMph’tSchhh-uhh!!” She sniffled pointedly. “‘Uh-oh’ what?” 
“You’re grumpy because you don’t feel well!” she posited, knowing it’d make the woman more irritable but unable to stop herself from poking the bear. 
“I’m not grumpy,” Lou said with a bitter chuckle. “And I feel fine.”
Tammy rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you just act like a person instead of sticking to your too-cool, closed-off, rockstar bit?” Lou could tell she was still mostly teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity in her accusation.
Lou laughed, this time, genuinely. “I’m not acting. Jesus!” 
“You’re just naturally too cool?” 
“Bingo, baby,” Lou said, giving her a playfully poke on the thigh. 
The blonde woman shook her head, smiling still. “I can’t believe-“
“Hmph’KtschhT! Ht’MPHnxgt!!” Lou blew her nose, opening the glove compartment for yet another round of tissues. 
“You might feel fine, but you don’t sound great,” Tammy told her, a twinge of overprotectiveness coming through.  
Lou swiveled in her seat to face her, leaning back against the passenger side door. “It’s nothing.” 
“You sound stuffy.”
“I’ve been sneezing,” Lou concluded, a little too sarcastically. “It’s just the weather.”
Tammy laughed. “Oh, yeah?” 
Lou poked her again, this time, more lovingly than she meant to. “God, you’re so...”
Tammy stole a look at her. “So?” 
Lou shrugged, draping a few napkins over her hands and snapping into them. “Heh’TmPHschhh-uhh! H’EhtMpshht!!” She paused for a moment and sat up, but suddenly turned away again over her shoulder, with no time to retrieve a makeshift tissue. “HI’EhkTschhh-OO!!”
Tammy raised an eyebrow her way. “Jesus. Bless you.”
Lou looked down and smiled. “You don't have to say that.”
Tammy laughed. “You’re bossy, you know that?” 
She shrugged. “It’s who I am, babe.”
“Yeah,” Tammy shook her head, but grinned to herself. “I know.” 
“But thank you, anyway,” Lou finally said after a few seconds, a little more quietly than was characteristic. “Hmp’nTkschhh-uh!!”  
Tammy said nothing, but reached down into the purse at her feet and rifled through for a bit. She finally retrieved what she was looking for, and wordlessly tossed a to-go pack of Kleenex into Lou’s lap. 
“I don’t-“
“Shut up.” Tammy turned to her with a smirk. 
Lou’s mouth was playfully agape, half broken into a surprised grin. “You’re bossy, too.”
Tammy shrugged. “You have no idea.”
Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Tammy, Debbie 
“Coffee?” Lou stood in the kitchen in nothing her oversized button down and soft wool socks, serving up caffeine while Debbie scrambled eggs.
Tammy shook her head. “I’m okay, thanks.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and rearranged so she was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen chair, in her more sophisticated version of pajamas, which consisted of soft blue striped shorts and a crisp white tank top. “Can I help with anything?” she asked, mostly to Debbie, as Lou had just taken a seat beside her with a full coffee mug. 
“You’re the guest,” Debbie turned around and smiled at her softly. “No helping.”
Tammy laughed. “I’m hardly a guest. We’ve all been here for...”
“3 weeks,” Lou chimed in. “But who’s counting?” She winked. 
“Well, you’re the only one who’s ever around, really,” Debbie clarified. “So just let us make you breakfast.”
Tammy shrugged, taking a sip of her orange juice. “I have to say, this is a huge step up from what I’m used to at home.”
Lou guffawed. “With a husband and two little gremlins? I’m surprised you ever even get to eat your own breakfast.”
Debbie shot her a look. “They’re good kids,” she reminded Lou, who wasn’t used to having to censor herself. 
“Right,” she looked to Tammy, who didn’t seem particularly fazed either way. In fact, she didn’t even seem like she was listening.
“Besides,” Debbie started. “Some people actually like-“
“Hp’tNkgscht!!” Tammy pitched forward into her wrist. “Sorry, ‘scuse me.”
Lou pushed a basket of napkins toward her, from which she plucked one gratefully. 
“Like?” Lou looked to Debbie to finish her thought. 
The brunette shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” She covered the pan and took a seat with the two of them, stealing Lou’s coffee and taking a sip. “You two working today?”
Lou shrugged. “You’re the boss,” she answered, half as a question, half as a tease. 
“What else do we need done?” Tammy asked, fiddling with the drawstring on her shorts. 
Lou looked down and noticed the blonde woman’s foot tapping, her eyes darting from Debbie to the floor. She could tell she was distracted. 
“Hey, Deb?” Lou jumped in before they got an answer. “Would you print up those guidelines you showed me last week? I think it might be really helpful. For Tammy, I mean.” 
Debbie cocked her head, not used to Lou being proactive nor sincere, but stood anyway, taking another sip. “Yeah. Of course,” she answered, looking to Tammy and giving her another reassuring smile. “Be back in 5.”
The two blonde women watch her waltz up the stairs, and Lou scooted her chair closer to Tammy as soon as she was out of their sightline. 
“What’s up?” 
Tammy shook her head, not making eye contact. “I feel terrible.” 
Lou leaned closer, putting a hand on the woman’s knee. “Why? We did nothing wrong. Debbie and I haven’t been together in years.”
Tammy laughed hollowly. “Lou, I’m married.”
Lou rolled her eyes and sat back. “To a man who probably still hasn’t noticed you’re gone.” 
“To a man I promised to love ‘til death do us part,” she corrected her. 
“Oh, come on. That’s just something you say,” Lou waved her off. 
“I don’t know,” Tammy looked up at her. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m an awful person.”
“Oh, honey.” Lou looked into her eyes and leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek. “Of course you’re an awful person. You’re working with us now.” 
Tammy laughed and sat back, finally seeming a bit lighter. 
“Okay?” Lou asked her, no more context or clarification needed. 
Tammy nodded, but paused suddenly, and bent again into her balled-up fist. “Hpt’NgkXtch!!” She rubbed at her nose. 
“Allergic to me?”  
She smiled for just a second and took another napkin. “Hp’TnkGxshhht!!” She exhaled tiredly. “Allergic to something.” 
Lou brushed a stray hair out of her face. “Poor baby,” she said, almost genuinely. 
They heard footsteps once again, and Lou backed up out of sheer instinct. She looked to Tammy, who was again distracted. 
Debbie hurried in dropped the papers onto the table before quickly resuming her spot at the stove. “Not burned,” she said, almost to herself. “Lou, will you hand me-“
“Heh’MPtngxCHH!! Fuck,” Tammy sighed. 
“Gesundheit!” Debbie turned around and squinted at her. “Don’t do that, Tam- it’s not good for you to hold it in.” 
Lou half-smiled, gazing at the tense, stressed out woman at the table with her. “No, it’s really not,” she agreed, catching her eye. She slid a hand under the table and squeezed the woman’s hand. 
Tammy looked down, almost blushing. “I know,” she admitted. “I’ll get there.” 

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😍 still can't get enough of these

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ugh I LOVE!!!!!!! You are such an excellent writer & you capture these characters magnificently.

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A sunny, beachy Labor Day story for us all.



Fandom: Ocean’s 8

Characters: (everyone, kinda, but mostly) Lou, Tammy, Debbie, Constance


It was too nice to stay in. It was one of those days that was so sunny, so summery, so undeniably beautiful that all of us, even Debbie, agreed when Constance begged us to pile in the van and head to the beach. 


We were a sight, I’m sure, to the families and teens and young professionals who’d taken the day of relaxation more seriously than we, a Motley Crue of women in varying degrees of undress and interest. But we leaned in anyway, with our beach chairs and our big soft blankets and surf accoutrement. 


Constance and Nine Ball hightailed it to the water. Amita read her book quietly under the umbrella she shared with Rose. Daphne and I laid a blanket out in front of Deb and Lou, who sat silently but contentedly in the uncharacteristic Tommy Bahama beach chairs I’d happened to find in my garage during the move. It was nice. 


“Water?” Debbie asked, presumably me, as I was the only one who thought to pack a cooler. 


I sat up and brushed a few clumps of sand off of my stomach, unzipping the pack and tossing one to her. “Lou?” I held up a bottle, shaking it in her direction. 


She lowered her aviators at me and shook her head. Despite my best guess, she looked surprisingly natural here, in her board shorts and black bikini top and messy blonde hair. 


I dropped the water bottle back in and fished out a chilly can of beer. I held that up, too, this time, to more enthusiastic results. 


She leaned forward and grabbed it from me, popping the top and raising it as a “cheers!” before taking a sip. God, she was so cool, it was startling sometimes. 


“Everyone good?” I asked the group before finally zipping the cooler back up and resuming my spot. I laid on my stomach and put my head down, enjoying the sun on my back more than I thought I would. 


A noise. My head shot up, which surprised me doubly because I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep. I looked around. Nine Ball and Constance were back, sitting on their surfboards, drinking the majority of the beers. I sat up, kneeling, still surveying. 


“How was your nap?” Daphne asked, already looking perfectly bronzed. 


I nodded. “Great. I guess I needed it.” 


Another distinct sound. Behind me. I turned around, laying down again but repositioning myself so I was facing the other ladies. 


Deb passed Lou a few paper towels. 




I squinted up at Lou, whose face was slightly obscured by the wad of makeshift tissue. 




“Bless you,” I half-shouted to her. The breeze was picking up. 


She caught her breath and cocked her head at me. “You’re up.”


I chuckled. “I fall asleep for a half hour and...”


“You can’t be leaving us to our own devices,” Constance joked as she tiptoed over for another drink. She pulled one out and handed it to me before reaching up with one for Lou, too. 


Lou leaned forward to take it, but shook her head and sat back. “Heh’EHtkSchhhiOO!” 


“Damn, lady,” Constance said, finally handing off the beer and scuttling back to her setup. 


Debbie finally sat up, too. “You okay?” she asked Lou quietly. 


It was interesting to watch them from so close while feeling like no one knew I was there. Maybe it was the wind or the beer or the sunglasses or the angle, but I felt like I was invisible. I felt like I could just witness. 


Lou nodded. “Sunscreen, saltwater...” she shrugged. “You know.” 


Debbie reached over, so quickly, so unobtrusively and rubbed Lou’s leg. Just for a moment. Just for comfort. I smiled to myself, having been the only one to see it. I looked away. 


Lou cracked the top of her beer and my eyes shot back to her. She took a sip, shoving the can into an already carved-out divot of sand that cradled it perfectly. She sniffled, sounding, I realized, pretty terrible. She crinkled her nose and instinctively reached up to lower her sunglasses. She shot her eyes upward at the sun for a split second, and immediately bent double into her paper towel stash. 


“He’IHtkschhhi-OO!! H’EHtknGKstchh!!”


“Bless you,” I told her again. I reached out in front of me and heaped a handful of sand onto her toes. “What’s going on?” I couldn’t help but ask myself, even though I was privy to her conversation with Debbie. It wasn’t my conversation. 


“I’m a little...overstimulated.” Her consonants were dull, but her wit was sharp as ever. She laughed dryly at herself. 


“You need anything?”


She shook her head. “I’ll be okay once we’re...” She trailed off, her breath gently catching. She breathed erratically for a few seconds before crinkling her nose and growling. “Fuck.”


I sat up and criss-crossed my legs. “That’s the worst,” I told her, reaching forward and handing her her beer. 


“You having a relaxing day?” she asked, a loaded question, it seemed. 


“I think so. It’s hard to say,” I admitted. “A lot on my mind.” 


She furrowed her brow. “Such as?” 


I waved her off. “Nothing. I mean, everything. But nothing in particular.”


Lou chuckled at me. “Well, if you ever need to talk...”


I smiled. “Yeah?”


She playfully kicked a bit of sand back my way. “What do you mean ‘yeah?’ Of course, Tam. Jesus.”


She sounded almost offended, which wasn’t my intention but definitely wasn’t unwarranted. “That’s not what I meant. Sorry, I-“ I stopped as she held a finger up telling me to wait. Her breath caught again and she finally gasped, bending into her balled up fist. Her stomach clenched so tight, I could see her ab muscles. 


“Heh’ntGtKSchht!! Hi’EHHtSchhhiOO!!”




She blew her nose. “Yeah.”


“Do you want to pack up?”


Lou shrugged. “Let’s not ruin the fun,” she said, bordering on sarcasm. 


“Hate to break it to you, but it’s not a bucket of fun listening to you sneeze your head off every 30 seconds,” Daphne suddenly chimed in. “No offense.”


Lou laughed. “None taken.” 


“Okay,” I stood up. “Let’s go.” I picked my blanket up off the beach and gently shook it off. 


Lou stood, too, but quickly stepped away and bent into her shoulder. “Huh’EHHktSHHHioo! Ht’EHkTschhhh-OO!!” 


I paused, shoving my blanket into a tote bag. “Shit, I’m sorry, was that me?”


Debbie folded up her chair and shook her head. “It’s everything, Tam.”  


Lou recovered, grabbing her beach chair and finishing the last of her beer. “Hate to be a buzzkill...”


“Don’t worry about it, lady. We’ll keep the buzz going at home,” Nine Ball told her, giving her a playful tap on the bottom as she passed. 


Debbie laughed. She held a hand out toward Lou. “Gimme.” 


Lou rolled her eyes. “C’mon.”


“You c’mon.” Debbie sighed and finally just grabbed the chair out of her hands. “I got it.”


I followed them, still just watching. But it didn’t feel like I was far away anymore. It felt like I was just right. 

Edited by zakandsara

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I adore this head canon of “Lou is super sensitive & kind of allergic to everything” in a big way; it’s so so so sweet & cute. Your writing is, as always, incandescently lovely.

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That's exactly what I needed today. Thanks for writing and posting these cute drabbles!

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Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Other (use your imagination 😏)
Hi.” I walked in and sat on the far side of the couch. She was sitting on the adjacent stairs, leather jacket already on and boots tied all the way up, like she was ready to run. 


She looked at me, just barely making eye contact. “I told you I’d come get you when I’m ready.” 


I nodded, understanding her frustration but still fundamentally disagreeing with her. In moments like these, it was best not to even open my mouth; it’d just get us further in. “I know. I just- I wanted to...”


I trailed off and, instead of finishing, moved a bit closer to her. She twitched. 


“You look great,” I told her, and she did. She always did. 


She smirked at me. “Don’t.”


I smiled, hoping it’d help. “Okay.” I put a hand on her knee. 


She tried not to smile back; she looked down and shook her hair out. “I’m still mad at you,” she told me, even though she sounded patently like a person who was not, in fact, mad. 


“I know,” I said again. I scooted even closer. She stood up. I put my hands in her back pockets and leaned up against her, close. It wasn’t a hug, but it wasn’t not. 


She growled, low. “You’re really irritating.” 


I kissed her neck. She looked up like she wasn’t interested, but the goosebumps told me otherwise. I pulled away. “Am I?”


She stepped back just a little, just enough to force me to uncling. She bent, tight, into herself. “Hep’NgtCH!” She shook her head and sniffled, a little disoriented.


I cocked my head. “That was kinda cute.” I couldn’t help but continue to provoke her. 


“Shut up,” she said automatically, her cheeks uncharacteristically blooming with a twinge of rose. She sniffled and stepped fully away from me now, freeing herself from my attention. “Heht’kShhhUoo!!” 


I moved closer to her again. I put my hand under her chin and guided her face up to mine. She looked me in the eye. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed her, quick, hard. 


She leaned in, but only for a minute. She pulled back and put her hands on my shoulders, keeping me away. She turned over her left shoulder. “Heh’KntSCHhh-uh!!” She wrinkled her nose and turned back to me. She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t.”


I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Didn’t what, darling?” 


She let go of me and walked away, leaving me behind and sitting on the arm of the couch. “You’re dark,” she said, almost grinning. She swiped at her nose. 


I opened my mouth in faux surprise. “Me?!” 


“Yes,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You.”


“Baby,” I walked toward her. She leaned away. “I didn’t do it on purpose.” 


She laughed. 


I stood behind her. I ran my hands through her hair. “I guess I...forgot you were allergic.” 


She leaned her head back to look at me. “Oh, you forgot.”


I smiled. I leaned over and kissed her again, upside down. “Oops.”


She sat up and stood to face me, this time, putting her hands on my hips. “Well,” she whispered. “You win. I’m talking to you.” 


“Lucky me.” 


She pulled back as I leaned in for another kiss. Her breath hitched gently, almost delicately. It was quite a contrast against the dark leather and general moodiness. She reached up with her thumb and forefinger and bent, again, in between us. “Hep’NgxST!!” 


I pushed her hair back behind her ear. “Bless you.”


She cleared her throat. “You know,” she started slowly, her voice wavering just a bit. “You’re going to have to wash that off at some point.” 


I looked up at her, a little surprised that she wasn’t more angry. “Oh?”


She started to walk away, but stopped, reached out for my hand, tugged at my arm. “I think you‘ll probably need some help.”


I didn’t budge. I stared at her. “You’re amazing.” 


“I know,” she said this time. “You’re so lucky.” 


I couldn’t even look at her. My face flushed now. “I’m sorry.” 


She laughed. “I’m not.” 

Edited by zakandsara

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Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: All 8 

Lou pulled into her parking space against the chain-link fence and stepped outside, into the cold winter night. It was so dark, past midnight, that the lights of the not-so-faraway city didn’t even permeate the blackness. But something did. 


She shut the door and looked up at her building, which she expected to be lifeless at this hour, but she noticed that the sparkle in her periphery wasn’t just a reflection of the moon off the snow. All the lights were on. 


As she made her way to the back door, waves of laughter seeped through the windows and made Lou pause. What was going on in there? 


She tried the door- unlocked, as she’d suspected- and slowly pushed her way in, totally unsure of what she was about to find. 


“Lou’s home!” she heard, before she was even fully in the room. Tammy. Excited. A little too exited for 1AM. 


She shut the door and made her way over to the living room, where all 7 women sat around the coffee table, which was scattered with pizza boxes and empty wine bottles. “Well, well, well.”


“Sorry you were late to the party, Motorcycle Barbie,” Constance said, sliding off the couch and on to the floor to make room for Lou. “Yo- that rhymed!” 


Amita cracked up, which sent Daphne into a fit of giggles, which pretty quickly trickled over to Rose. 


Lou squinted at them, half amused and half too exhausted for this. “I didn’t know there was going to be a party, did I?” She moved behind the couch, directly to where Debbie sat, and leaned against its back with both hands. 


Debbie put her head back, resting it in between where Lou’s hands were placed, and looked up at the blonde. “Hi.”


“Oh, hi there,” Lou replied, rolling her eyes a bit. “Having fun?” 


Nine Ball sat up from her place in the armchair across from them and reached out over the coffee table, offering something. Lou cocked her head.


“I’ll take that,” Tammy intercepted from the other side of the couch. She snatched it from Nine’s hand and pretty swiftly, for someone like Tammy, took a hit off a joint that had been, from the looks of it, already fairly heavily utilized. 


Lou’s mouth dropped open but her shock quickly turned into a grin. “Oh my god.” She shook her head. “This is what you do when I’m at work?“


“Not usually,” Daphne told her. 


“This what I do when you’re at work,” Nine Ball admitted with a shrug. 


“What, are you mad?” Debbie’s head followed her as she moved out from behind the couch. Her comment had a bit more bite than she’d intended, but that didn’t stop her from taking another hit herself as the joint made its way around the room. 


“No,” Lou chuckled. She wasn’t used to being the most responsible one in a room, but she was kind of enjoying it, especially in this room. 


“You want?” Nine Ball reached up and offered, once again, as Lou passed her to head into the kitchen. 


She shook her head, pausing just before she reached the fridge and snapping into her cupped hands. “Hep’tSchhhT!” She sniffled and pulled a beer from the side door. 


“Bless you!” Tammy called from the living room. 


Lou gave her a lazy thumbs up as she took a sip of her drink. Then another. She needed to catch up if she was going to be able to bear the remainder of the evening. 


She sauntered back in, unbuttoning her blazer and sliding in between Tammy and Debbie on the couch. “So, whose idea?” she gestured to the joint, which was now, uncharacteristically, in Rose’s possession. 


“It was sort of a...group effort,” Constance answered. 


Amita nodded. “We didn’t plan it. It just happened.” 


Debbie laughed. “And then kept happening.” She sat up straight, scooted in closer, and put a languid arm around Lou’s shoulders, forcing the woman to turn and lean against her. Lou was too tired to protest, and honestly, anything that got her closer to a horizontal position was fine by her. 


“It’s interesting,” Daphne started. “That this is supposed to impair your judgment, but I feel super judgmental right now.” 


Tammy laughed. “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”


Daphne screwed up her face, thinking too hard, until she got it, and she, too, starting cackling and, once again, the hilarity rippled throughout the room and took hold of all the women. 


As Debbie chuckled at basically nothing, Lou pulled away and slipped back into her original position. While the other women were distracted, she buried her face into the crook of her elbow. “Hept’EhtSchhh-uhh!! Hep’tKschhhUhh!!” She rubbed at her nose, on a mission. 


“Hey,” Tammy leaned over, finally noticing her as the laughter died down. “You sneezed again.”


Lou nodded. “That I did, Nancy Drew.” She took a sip of her beer and cleared her throat. 


“You sick?” Nine Ball eyed her up like she’d brought in the plague. 


“She’s not sick, I would know if she was sick,” Debbie said casually. When her guard was down, she was much more comfortable with intimacy, and the things she said out loud would make a sober Deb cringe. 


“Yes, haven’t you learned by now?” Rose started, already a twinge of sarcasm in her voice as she held the joint over the table for the next woman to grab. “Debbie knows everything.” 


“Ha ha,” Debbie affected, dryly. “That’s not what I meant.” She took the joint. 


Before she could take another hit, Lou quietly, gently took it out of her hand and passed it down to Tammy. Debbie looked up at her, seeming angry for a second, but quickly melted into contentment as she continued to stare at Lou, who winked at her sleepily. 


“It might be bedtime soon, ladies,” Lou announced, looking around at the increasingly exhausted group of grown-up women who sat before her, high out of their minds. “I think we’ll all be staying here, yes?”


Tammy shrugged and passed the joint off to Amita, who took a small hit and gave it to Constance, who inhaled enough smoke to start blowing rings into the air. 


“If you say so,” Daphne conceded from her position on the floor. She leaned back against Nine Ball’s legs, eyes drooping. 


“I say so,” Lou sat up for a moment as if to stand, but paused suddenly and pitched forward into her sleeve. “Heh’mPtschhhT!! Hmp’TkSchhh-Uhh!!” 


Bless you,” Amita told her, emphatically. 


“You sick?” Constance asked, seemingly completely forgetting the conversation they’d had moments ago. 


Lou laughed. She finally stood up and moved further back into the living room, propping herself against the metal staircase on the outside wall. “I’m tired,” she told them, coyly, avoiding their attention. 


“You sneeze when you’re tired?” Tammy asked, half a rhetorical question and half genuine, high curiosity. 


“No,” Debbie answered for her. She sprawled out on the couch, occupying the space Lou had vacated. She put her feet in Tammy’s lap. 


Lou closed her eyes and took a deep breath, quickly losing patience. “I’m fine. Who needs to borrow pajamas?” 


“Hell naw, we’re not ready for bed!” Constance stood up, joint in hand, and joined Lou on the stairs. “Just take one hit, Loulou, you’ll relax a little.” 


She held the smoking joint up to the blonde, who quickly dodged it, stepping away. “Hehp’EHtschhhUhh!! Jesus,” she moved even further away, standing behind Nine’s chair and leaving Constance in the spot she’d overtaken on the stairs. Her breath continued to hitch for a moment, so she turned around to avoid everyone’s eyes. “Heh’mPtschhhiOO!!”


“Gesundheit,” Debbie said passively, not even opening her eyes. “Lou can’t smoke pot, she’s allergic. Isn’t that weird?” She mumbled to everyone and no one, still laying comfortably across the couch.


The rest of the women’s heads snapped to Lou, who rolled her eyes. “Not that weird,” she told them, shrugging. 


“Dude, that’s so weird,” Nine Ball chuckled. 


“Yeah, how do you, like...smoke weed if you can’t smoke weed?” Constance asked, holding the joint up as if it were an extension of her hand. 


Tammy laughed. “Lou, go to bed! You’re-“




“Just going to keep sneezing.” She turned around to face Lou, her reaction time a little off. “Whoa. Bless you. Did you hear that?” 


Lou buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’m going to bed.”  


She tossed her empty beer bottle into the recycling and filled up a glass of water for herself. “Please don’t attempt to clean up. I’m worried about the mess you’ll make.” She surveyed the room one last time, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Goodnight.”


“‘Night, lady,” Nine Ball called. 


“Yeah, g’night,” Daphne echoed. “Sorry we made you sick.”


“She’s not sick,” Debbie, who everyone had assumed was asleep, chimed in again. “I’d know if she was sick.”


Lou smiled to herself. “I’ll see you in the morning.”


“Pancakes?” Constance asked hopefully. 


“Don’t push it, pothead.”

Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Debbie

“Hang on,” Lou held up a finger, removing her elbows from the table and sitting back into her seat. 


Debbie, in turn, leaned in, watching. “What? What’s wrong?”


Lou’s breath caught for just a second, a tiny hiccup, almost silent. She shook her head as if she were wiping off an Etch-a-Sketch. She slowly leaned forward again. “Had to sneeze,” she swiped at her nose, wrinkling it in frustration. 


The brunette smirked. “Can we...” She grabbed her bag and made to leave, but paused as Lou brought a hand up to her face. 


She watched as the blonde woman’s tightly balled fist hovered right under her nose, slowly oscillating closer and further as her breath hitched and let off. “Hehh...hihhhh...” Lou’s chest rose and fell, dramatically, noticeably. Her eyes were fluttering. “Hehh’EHKT-schhhOO!!” She finally twisted and bent into her fist with an uncharacteristically high-pitched sneeze. 


“Congrats,” Debbie told her, slightly sarcastic as always. 


Lou’s still mouth hung open, her breath erratic. She put up her middle finger, but quickly reclaimed her hand and bent into it again. “Heh’EhhTks-cHiOO!! Heh’EHtk-SchhioOO!! Fuck, shit.” 


“You okay?” She cocked her head, all jokes aside now. 


Lou sniffled and pulled a napkin from the center of the table, blowing her nose softly. “Yeah. Sorry.”


Debbie shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. Just be a little quieter next time. People are staring.” She looked up to catch Lou’s eye and smiled, just barely. 


The blonde woman rolled her eyes, but chuckled. She balled up her tissue and tossed it across the table. “You’re staring.”


She shrugged. “How could I not?”





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that first fic genuinely made me laugh out loud multiple times; it is so delightfully & perfectly in character. God you’re so talented 

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Sorry, but I can’t stop???
Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Other (again...imagination)

“What’s wrong?”  


She’s squirming. I’m worried. I want her to be content. 


She shakes her head. She takes another sip of her whiskey on the rocks. She pushes her sleeves up. 


“Do you need...” I trail off. I don’t know what I’m trying to offer. I just want her to know that whatever it is, I’m willing to get it. I’m willing to try. 


She puts a hand on my knee under the table. Under the slightly damp table at the dark, loud bar that doesn’t allow for much conversation but isn’t particularly disturbing either. She squeezes. I nearly flinch. 


“Another drink?” she asks, tilting her head toward the bar. I nod. She stands, just for a second. She catches the bartender’s eye. He knows what she wants. She sits back down, but immediately swivels back around on her stool. “Hmp’nXgschht!” She rubs at her nose. She faces me again. 


I reach out this time. I rub her arm, moving down from her elbow toward her hand. I lace my fingers through hers. I squeeze. “I missed you today.”


She smirks at me. She half-stands on the rungs of her barstool and leans over the table. She puts a hand under my chin and cocks it up to face her. She kisses me, softly. She bites my lower lip. She pauses, drinking me in. She sits back. “Yeah?” She smacks her spearmint gum, which I hadn’t even noticed. I only tasted her. 


I shudder. I nod. “Yeah,” I cough out. I clear my throat. “Yeah.” I am clearer. 


She breaks free from my grasp and swiftly bends into her forearm, muffling a pair of sneezes into her sleeve. She pushes her hair out of her eyes. 


She is so sexy, even when she’s doing something remarkably unsexy. She’s so good at making every move feel patently Lou-like. Nothing she does feels out of place, but everything feels unexpected. 


I look up at her. She looks distracted. I take a sip of my drink. Sometimes, even I don’t know how to proceed, so I just wait until she takes the reigns back. 


But she doesn’t. Not right away. She looks around behind her, like she’s searching for something, then turns back to face me and, again, buries her face in her sleeve. She sneezes, loudly, for Lou. I jump a little. 


She notices. She laughs. “Sorry,” she tells me, genuine but still teasing. She says something else, but the terrible music swells and I lose it. 


“What?” I nearly shout across the table at her. 


She leans forward, getting so close to my ear, I can smell her coconut shampoo, her mint gum. Her. 


“I think we should go,” she purrs into my ear. 


I nod. I don’t care why. Whatever she wants. 


She struts through the bar, one arm behind her hanging onto my hand as I follow. She stops short, right before we reach the door. I get close to her, lean my body against hers, put my free hand on the outside of her thigh. She snaps forward, pushing back into me. Another surprising sneeze. 


I move my hand up to her shoulder and squeeze. “You okay?”


She doesn’t hear me. She keeps moving. We push through the heavy door, finally, and emerge into the fresh, cold, light night air. 


She lets go of my hand and bends forward, again, into both of hers. “Heh’ihhTngschhh-OO!” She groans. 


I catch up with her. “Are you...” I don’t finish. I don’t know what the ending of that question is. Lou knows who and what she is, always. What was I going to ask? 


“Something’s making me itch,” she says, almost poetically. 


“Oh.” I follow her to the car. “Are you-“


“It’s fine,” she cuts me off, not aggressively, just certainly. “I’ll stop in a minute.”


I nod. “Do you want me to drive?” 


She answers by hopping into the driver’s seat. I follow by getting into mine. I buckle in and she leans over, kisses me, puts my hand inside hers in the middle console. “You’re too jumpy to drive,” she winks at me. 


I laugh. “It’s your fault, really.”


She shrugs. “Not on purpose.”


“Right,” I concede. I watch her take the wheel, one-handed, so confident, so clear. So correct. So good. “That’s why it’s so scary.”


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I'm glad that you can't stop, because I really don't want you to :D

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THANK YOU, to those reading these insane works of gay gay gayness. luv u, mean it. 
Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Other 
Prompts: 10- Cough; 11- Hot/Cold 
Part 1:

I unlocked the door quietly, expecting her to be asleep by now. She wouldn’t be, usually, but when I’d left her this afternoon, she was sulky and tired and pale and, though she wouldn’t admit it outright, not feeling well. I’d texted her throughout the day to check in, but unsurprisingly, her responses were vague and snippy and cold, which only made me suspect she wasn’t feeling herself even more. She was never like that. Not to me. 

I flicked on the kitchen light and stepped quietly into the room, dropping my things on the table and filling up a glass of water before heading upstairs. I left my shoes at the base of the stairs, walking softly up, expecting to have to use my phone for light, but noticing once I reached the top that a blue glow was seeping under our bedroom door out into the hall. 

I pushed the door open and peeked inside. The TV was on, but the volume was so low, I could barely hear it. I looked at the bed. Lou was curled into herself, blankets up to her chin. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. A pile of discarded tissues littered the floor on her side of the bed. She looked so young. 

I frowned to myself, placing my glass down on my side. I stepped carefully, picking up her crumpled mess. She rustled behind me. 

“You don’t have to do that.” Her voice was low, almost a growl, and she was so congested, her accent would have been almost unintelligible to someone who didn’t know her like I did. 

I turned around. I sat on the edge of the bed and pushed a strand of hair from her forehead. She was sweating. “How you feeling, pretty lady?” 

She shook her head, making a noise of discontent from the back of her throat. “Like a million bucks.” 

I half-smiled. “What do you need?” 

She shimmied, impatiently pushing the blankets off of her. She was wearing only a soft cotton bra and boxers. “Water?”

The fact that she even asked me for anything shocked me so much that I didn’t respond at first, until she started to sit up. I put a hand on her shoulder. “I got it.”

I tossed the tissues into the garbage can in the corner and snatched my water glass off the table. I took a quick sip before passing it over to patient zero. 

She sat up, slowly, half-way, and took it greedily, drinking most of it in one gulp. She set it down on her side table and slither back down onto her pillow, sniffling. She cleared her throat, which turned into a cough, which turned into a minute of coughing. I rubbed her back. 

“Did you take anything?” 

She ignored the question. “Will you keep doing that?” 

Her voice was soft, vulnerable, sad almost, but sweet. Something I rarely experienced in her. Needy. Lovely. 

“Of course.” I continued to rub her back, perched on the edge of the bed, until her slow, labored breathing became soft snoring. I stood carefully and slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

As I brushed my teeth, I heard more muffled coughing through the door. Poor Lou. She hardly slept through the night under normal circumstances. 

I pulled a couple of NyQuil capsules out of our cabinet. I knew she’d resist, but she was getting fed up enough to give in. 

I headed back out, finally making it to my side of the bed. I slid in and propped myself against the headboard. 

Lou sniffled, unproductively, next to me. A hand quickly shot up and plucked a couple of tissues from the box, and she bent into them, violently. “Heh’iHhtschhiUshh!!” She blew her nose and threw the tissues onto the floor, starting a new pile. 

I put a hand on the outside of her thigh. “Baby...”

She shuddered, pulling the blanket back up. “I think I’m dying.” 

I laughed; she meant me to. I rubbed her leg. “I hope not.” 

She flipped halfway, laying on her back now. She wiped her nose with another tissue. “I can go to the guest room.” 

I laid down and scooted closer to her, resting an arm over her stomach. “How am I supposed to keep an eye on you if you’re in the guest room?”

She half-smiled, her eyes closed. She raised the tissue back up to her face and held it there for a while, until she lazily, exhaustedly, snapped into it. “H’IHtschhhiUuh! ‘iHstSchhhiUhhh!” She moaned.

I hugged her closer. 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

I lightly scratched my fingers over her stomach, drawing small circles. “Why? Don’t be.” 

“I can’t...” She had to pause to blow her nose again. “...be any quieter. You’re not going to sleep.”

“You’re not going to sleep either,” I reminded her. “Will you take something?”

She shook her head. “I hate that shit.”

I chuckled. “You say it like it’s laced.”

“It makes me feel like it is,” she told me, for the millionth time in her life. She started to cough again. 

I whimpered a bit. Her stomach muscles tensed under my hand. “Poor Lou,” I said out loud. 

She made a noise, I assumed, in agreement. “I hate this.” 

“I know you do,” I told her. “I’d trade places with you if I could.”

“So would I,” she deadpanned. 

I laughed, which made her laugh, which quickly turned back into a cough. She rubbed at her nose with a tissue, almost massaging it. 

“More water?” I asked, sitting up a little. 

She sat up, too, all the way this time. She leaned against the headboard, her knees pulled up to her chest. She bent away from me. “Huh’IhhtSchhhUHh! ‘iHgnSchhhhiUhh!! H’Uh-!” She stopped abruptly, exhaling with an exhausted sigh. She blew her nose, hard. 

“Please take a decongestant,” I put a hand on her knee. “You’re so stuffed up, you can’t even sneeze anymore.” 

She let out a pitiful laugh. She tried to sniffle, but barely snorted instead. “Fine,” she conceded, her consonants so dull, it hardly sounded like a word. 

“Fine,” I said, mimicking her. She shot me a look. I put a hand on her cheek. 

I slipped back out of bed and refilled her glass, handing her the unwrapped pills. She looked down at them as though they were poison, but dropped them into her mouth and chugged some more water. “Thanks.” She smiled up at me. She looked so tired. 

I leaned down and hugged her close to my chest. “You’re so hot.” 

“I’m not really in the mood,” she pulled back, smirking. 

I rolled my eyes at her. “You feel chilly?”

She shook her head. 

“Your fever’s breaking. That’s good.” 

“Mmm?” was all she could muster. 

“Lay down,” I told her, and she did. I folded the blankets down past her knees. I hopped back into bed beside her. I turned the TV off. 

She flipped onto her stomach and I rubbed her back. Her skin was damp, but her body was cold. “Doctor tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question. 

She growled. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You’ll have to drug me again,” she mumbled, clearly drifting off to sleep. 

I leaned close, whispering into her ear. “It wasn’t that hard the first time.” I kissed her cheek. 

“Don’t,” she said sleepily, but firmly. “Don’t kiss me.”

I did it again. “Too late.”

She groaned. “Your funeral.”

I laughed. “Goodnight, gorgeous.” 

“Love you,” she whispered, just barely. 

I smiled to myself. If only she got sick more often. 


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Does "Part 1" mean that there will be a second part ? 😍

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this fic is so soft & sweet & gentle & lively & I am hopelessly smitten w/it

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There is INDEED *at least* a part 2! 😏

Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Other

I woke up abruptly, knowing something had happened to jerk me out of sleep but not quite being able to place what. I opened my eyes slowly, realizing it was just barely light out. I turned around to peek at the clock. 5:43AM. 

I raised my head off the pillow, investigating. The bed was empty. The bathroom door was cracked. The water was running. I laid my head back down. I yawned. 

A minute later, the bathroom door shut. Lou padded back to bed, and gently slipped back in under the covers. She laid on her side, facing away from me. 

I snuggled up behind her, matching the curve of her body with mine. I put an arm around her stomach and hugged her to me. “You okay?” I whispered. 

“Mhm,” she mumbled. “Go back to sleep.” 

I sat up a little. She sounded strange. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” she whispered. She sniffled. I squeezed her closer; I could feel her chest moving shakily up and down, in and out, under my arm. She froze for a second, but took a sudden deep breath and buried her face in her pillow. “Heh’MpTnnshhhiUhh!!” 

“Bless you,” I told her, half-asleep already. I felt her squirming underneath me and, finally, woke fully back up again to find her sneaking out of bed and back into the bathroom. 

I sat up just as she closed the door. I rubbed my eyes. I got up, walking toward her. I knocked. 

“Baby, go to sleep,” she called to me. She sneezed. Again. A third time. 

I flinched. She sounded terrible. “Lou? Can I come in?”

I heard her footsteps approach, and she pulled the door open. Her nose was so pink, it was almost glowing. “I really didn’t want to wake you up,” she told me, seemingly annoyed, though I couldn’t tell if it was at me or at herself. 

“Are you okay?” I asked again, just as she bent behind the door and let out a pair of soggy, muffled sneezes. 

She straightened up to face me, rubbing her temple. “I’ve been sneezing for, like, an hour straight.” She clamped down on her nose with a tissue in between her thumb and forefinger and rubbed. “My lungs literally hurt.” 

“Fuck.” I had nothing to say. I had nothing to help her. 

“I’m going to shower,” she told me, starting to shut the door. 

I stopped her, putting a hand on it. “Are you-“ I paused, reconsidering. “I’m worried.” 

She smiled, almost amusedly. “Please go back to sleep, baby,” she implored again. “I will be fine. This is normal for me. This is what it’s like when I’m sick.”

I looked down. “Okay.” I felt like I’d failed her. 

“There’s nothing you can do,” she told me, like she knew exactly what was bugging me. “But it would make me feel a lot better if you went to sleep.” 

I chuckled. She was so sweet, so independent, so loving, but so self-sustaining. She was like a house cat. “You’ll wake me if you need anything?” 

“Probably not,” she joked. “But I’m sure you’ll sense it and wake up on your own.” 

I nodded. “I’ll sure try.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed, even as she tried to pull away. 

“You need to stop touching me,” she said, backing away, laughing almost to herself. 

I flushed, feeling my cheeks go red. “Impossible.”  

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What have we done to deserve such an embarrassment of riches 

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This is just so perfect! You write Lou's character so damn good. I'd kill for a third part.

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Thank you for continuing to read these, truly. 🤓 

Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Other

My alarm went off, annoying as ever, and my hand shot out to stop it almost before my brain knew what was happening. I opened one eye slowly and peeked over at Lou’s side of the bed; if I was the one to wake her up, I’d be pissed at myself all day. But the bed was empty. 

I sat up, stretching and peeking around for any sign of her. Her towel from the night before- or, more accurately, earlier that same morning- was draped over the bathroom door. Her glasses weren’t on the dresser where she usually left them. And the tissue box that was once on her bedside table was MIA. 

I finally rose, making my way slowly down the hall and then down the stairs. Lou was sprawled out on the couch, staring blankly at the television. Her now-signature tissue pile seemed to have migrated with her. 

“Hi,” I said quietly, taking a seat on the armchair across from her even though all I wanted was to squeeze next to her onto the couch, put her legs in my lap, drape a blanket over us both. 

She waved a few fingers my way, almost seductively if it weren’t so pathetic. 

“How you feeling? Scale of 1-10?”

She shut her eyes for a moment, as though responding to my question required ample prep time, both mentally and physically. “Which way’s 1?”

Her voice was raspy, almost gone. I nearly winced when she opened her mouth. “Very bad.” 

She bit her lip. “4?”

“Tea?” I asked, already getting up. 

She nodded. “Wait,” she called, barely over a whisper. She gestured for me to come closer, in another would-be-erotic move. That was the problem with Lou; everything she did was unavoidably sexy. 

I walked over, kneeling beside her and the arm of the couch. I brushed her hair out of her face, though her glasses were doing that for her. “Yes, ma’am?”

She sat up, with lots of effort, and criss-crossed her legs underneath her. She pulled the blanket that had been on top of her up to her chin. “Thank you.”

I cocked my head up at her. “Are you kidding? Of course,” I nearly laughed. “Don’t even-“

“No, I’m serious,” she cleared her throat. “I don’t...I haven’t...had a lot of people who would do this for me.” She looked down. She sniffled. She swiped at her nose. “Just...thanks.”

I put my hand on hers, even though I wasn’t supposed to. “I would take care of you any day. You’re a better patient than I’d have ever guessed in a million years,” I said, grinning at her. 

She laughed, too. “Yeah, well don’t get used to it.” 

I stood up, walked around the backside of the couch, kissed her on the head before she could scold me, headed into the kitchen to put the tea on. “I wouldn’t dare.”

She blew her nose, pulling a second tissue out before she was even finished with her first. “I’m serious,” she said, her breath a little shaky. “I think...huh’EhTschhhUsh!! Heh’uHtnSchhhUhh!!”

I paused, waiting to see if she’d finish her thought. “Bless you?” I called to her, almost a question. I wasn’t sure if she was done there either. 

She apparently wasn’t sure herself. She added to her pile and snatched another tissue, finally emptying the box. She hovered underneath her nose with it for a few seconds before taking a quick, deep breath and bending into it. “Heh’Uhshh-tCHhiuuH!!” She moaned. 

I joined her back in the living room, pulling the bunched up blanket from her and repositioning it around her shoulders. I squeezed, giving her an impromptu massage. “Just think how tight your abs are gonna be after this.”  

She chuckled. “‘Gonna be?’” she asked, shooting me a bit of side eye. 

I rolled my eyes back at her. “Don’t even joke like you don’t know I think you’re the hottest thing to ever walk on two legs.” I let go of her and went to fetch the teapot, which was now whistling. I took it off the stove and poured her a mug. 

She smirked at me as I brought it to her. “Yeah, right. Especially like this.”

I looked at her. Tea in hands, blanket surrounding her, hair up, glasses on, long legs crossed and still mostly bare, light cotton tank top flowing over her chest but still hugging her soft curves. “Yeah, Lou. Like this. Like anything.”

Her smile gradually faded, but she maintained her gaze. She shook her head, in disbelief or wonderment or both. “I love you,” she told me, like she was just realizing it. 

“I know,” I nodded. “I can’t believe it.”

She laughed, her levity back. “You’re so sweet, it’s almost...well, sickening,” she told me, pointing to herself with a balled up tissue still in her fist. 

“Sorry,” I told her, shrugging. “Drink your tea. You have to eat something before we try DayQuil.”

She took a sip, but paused once she realized what I said. “And then you go and say something like that.”

“Oh, get over it! You ride a motorcycle! You yell at dudes every time we go out! You can take a couple of pills,” I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

She opened her mouth in overly-dramatized surprise. “Your bossy when I’m sick,” she said, sounding almost flirtatious. 

I smiled. “Just wanna get you better. So you can boss me around again.”

She winked at me. “Bingo, baby.” 

I moved to the couch, perching on the arm opposite the side where she sat. “How’s the tea?”

She gave me a thumbs up, but turned quickly into her forearm. “He’uHtSchhhiUhh! Huh’EhtSchhhhioO!!” She wiped at her nose with the last remnants of her tissue. 

Bless you.” 

“Thanks,” she said quietly, clearing her throat. She wrinkled her nose again and sniffled. 

“You need more tissues.”

She nodded. 

“Find us something to watch,” I tossed her the remote, heading upstairs to our well-stocked pantry. “Not a documentary.”

“You’re the boss,” she replied, almost genuinely. 

“For today.”  

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Thank you for writing these amazing little drabbles that lighten up my day :)

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I just wanna cuddle poor Lou until she feels better, oh my goodness me

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Fandom: Ocean’s 8  
Characters: Lou, Other

The sun was just barely thinking about setting when we finally made it up to the roof. The expensive and commensurately comfortable loung chairs were outfitted with pillows, blankets, and cup holders, lucky for the future of the open bottle of wine that sat on the table between them. A few candles were lit; there was just enough of a breeze for the light to dance. And the spring air was soft, grassy, even in New York, romantic, alive. 

“Left or right?” Lou asked, holding both of our wine glasses as she stood before the chairs.

I shrugged. “You’re a lefty. Does that mean anything?”

“I guess not,” she chuckled, sitting in the chair on the right and waiting for me to settle into the left before handing me my glass. She held up hers, and I clinked. “Happy birthday.”

I smiled. “Thanks for this. It’s really nice.” 

“I know,” she looked around. “Turns out, having millions of dollars will really get you the star treatment at Target.”

“These are not from Target,” I said, reclining the chair back with such ease, it was like floating. 

She raised an eyebrow. “As far as you know.” 

I laughed and took another sip of wine, which I assumed cost more than I used to spend on rent. “Wherever they’re from, I could spend the rest of my life up here.” I pulled a blanket from behind me and draped it over my lap. The sun threatened to dip below the skyline in the distance. I watched it, so content, until a sudden movement in my periphery caught my attention. 

I turned to Lou, who, again, bent tightly into her jacket sleeve, which she’d pulled up over her hand. She exhaled with a sigh and sniffled quietly. “More wine?” 

I nodded and held out my glass, looking at her more closely. Her tight red leather pants, her black motorcycle jacket, the menagerie of chains around her neck, her dark, smudged makeup. It all sent me the same message about the kind of woman she was. But her thoughtfulness, her sharp sense of humor, her desire to please the ones she loves. She wasn’t exactly operating in harmony. 

She topped off her glass and rearranged, stretching her long legs out and crossing one over the other. She turned away from me, just slightly, just for a second, and bent quickly into her hand again, smothering a sneeze into total silence, save for an exhale of relief as she turned back. 

“Everything okay?” I asked, the wine making me more prone to provoking her than I may have been otherwise. 

She nodded, swirling her glass around. “You know, when you’re 40, you get to start telling everybody what to do.” 

I laughed. “Oh, yeah? Is that what happened to you?” 

“That’s right,” she played along. “What’s your first order of business?”

“Hmmm,” I faked being deep in thought until I needed some more wine. “Get Constance to stop skateboarding around the house between the hours of midnight and 5AM?” 

Lou chuckled. “No dice, baby. Didn’t take when it came from me the first hundred times.” 

I shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll see.” 

She squinted at me. “Uh-huh.”

I readjusted the pillow behind me. “Hey, where’s Deb?” 

She didn’t answer right away, so I looked over at her just as she dipped into her hand. “Hht’nGdt!” She rubbed her nose with the back of her palm. “Not sure.” 

“You okay?” I asked again. 

Her eyes searched me for a second, as though she were looking for an ulterior motive, which may have just been her aversion to intimacy. Or it may have been surprise that someone was openly attempting intimacy despite that. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, still a bit standoffish. “You okay?” 

I laughed, but rolled my eyes. “Yeah.” 

“Good,” she finished that conversation for the both of us. “Do you...”

She paused, and I waited for a few seconds before turning to her. The sun was almost gone, and it was darker now, but I still caught her silhouette in the glow of the candlelight. Illuminated by the soft orange flame, which flickered in the breeze, she looked sweeter, more peaceful than she often did to me. 

She twisted, once again, into her sleeve, this time, making much looser of an attempt to hide from me. “Hnt’Gntsh!!” She let out a small growl, which, in the dark, could’ve easily been from a small animal much more frightening than Lou. If one existed. 

“Lou?” I started, a little drunk now. 

She sighed, prematurely annoyed by me, but still willing to play along. It was my birthday, after all. “Yes, my darling,” she answered with more than a hint of sarcasm. 

“What’s going on with you?” 

“What, right now? I’m being interrogated by my girlfriend after I’ve thrown her a lovely birthday dinner-“

“Lou.” I stopped her. 

She growled again. “I don’t know.” She sounded like a thirteen year old who wouldn’t admit to crashing the computer with porn. 

“Lou,” I prodded her again. 

“It’s spring, I don’t know! Hayfever? The candles? The blankets?” 

I got out of my seat and set my wine glass down, walking slowly over to hers. I took her glass, set it beside mine, and slid in beside her. The two of us barely fit in one chair, but barely never stopped me before. 

I cozied up to her, putting my lips on her jawline. “You’re allergic to literally every facet of the roof?” I nuzzled into her neck. “And you still insisted we come up here for a nightcap?” 

She snickered, turning her face away. I put my hand on her chin and cocked it back toward me. I kissed her nose, softly. “For me?” 

She flinched, pulling back and quickly bringing up a hand to rub at the spot I’d just vacated. “Don’t.” 

I smiled. “Sorry.” I kissed again. 

She turned her head away from me, trying her damndest to bend into her shoulder. She gasped, sharply enough to almost startle me. “Ht’ngxTschh! Heh’tnGxdtschT!!” 

She sniffled, pointedly. “No, you’re not,” she said, exhaling. She leaned in and kissed me hard. She bit my lip. 

“Bless you,” I told her with a guilty albeit amused grin. An apology. 

“Happy birthday, kiddo.” 

“I’m 40 now,” I reminded her, just in case. “I get to tell you what to do.” 

She brushed my hair out of my eyes, pushed it behind my ear. She draped the blanket behind us over my shoulders. “You already do.”  

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