#But anyone else I owe feel free to chime in or like this post so I can get to ya! ))

[caligoascendant]

Good morning, everyone! Salutations! Greetings! And fond howdy’s to you all.  It’s time again for me to sweep out into the grand expanse of eternity for the sake of eldritch activities. Naturally, I shall be about...but! Expect some delays now and again. 

[horanghaes-gaze]

“We’re on a Mission” - Renjun fluff

Word Count: 1728

Genre: Fluff, a bit of crack/humor

Warnings: none

Notes: Here it is! The Renjun fluff is finally done and up, so I hope you guys enjoy it. As always, requests are open as well as my inbox in general, so feel free to send in something. And if you’re going to request, please remember to make sure that you read the rules and things to know post on my page before you do. Thank you so much, and once again, I hope you enjoy~~

"Are you staring?" Jaemin asked Renjun, who was indeed staring at you.

"No, of course not..." he looked towards his friend who could tell he was lying, anyone could from the look on his face. Jaemin dismissed it, not really paying much attention. Renjun however was still feeling a bit sour, his mind still focused on you. He honestly just accepted the fact that you are out of his league since you're beautiful, amazing, and talking to a guy with your cute smile that you do when- wait. No. It can't be. Or at least, he doesn't want it to be. Is that guy really trying to ask you out and expecting a yes? There's no way you're going to- oh, she said yes... Well this was a predicament. He's been too scared to ask you out for the past year that he forgot that another person could ask you out, which just happened right in front of him. Great, just great. 

"Did you get dumped or something? You're more pissy than usual today" Haechan teased, only being half-serious. Half because he would never actually make fun of Renjun getting dumped, but the other half being serious because Renjun was being a little on edge. 

"Mind your own business, Donghyuk"

"Ooh, he used your government name too" Chenle laughed at Haechan. 

"Ugh", Renjun simply let out as he slumped on the floor of the practice room. He couldn't get the thought of how happy you looked getting asked out earlier out of his head. It bothered him even more since it wasn't him who asked you out, and also because you said yes to the other guy. 

"Is it about that girl you were staring at earlier?" Jaemin chimed in.

"Oooooh a girl? Renjun and a girl? Do give details" Haechan said, wanting to know more.

Jaemin explained to the other five how for the past two months, he noticed Renjun staring or sneaking glances at you quite a bit. Renjun glared at him the whole time, not wanting to admit he had fallen for you, and that he had fallen deep... for the past year now. He also didn't want to admit that you had called him your "sweetest friend" one day when having lunch together. Mark, trying to be a bit helpful and not wanting to embarrass the younger boy further, spoke up.

"Why don't you ask her out? I'm sure she'll say yes, and if she doesn't then that's her loss” 

Renjun groaned before speaking.

"Someone already did earlier, and I've been chickening out for a year now, and on top of all that, she called me her 'sweetest friend' at lunch one time" he buried his face in his hands. 

"You already got friend-zoned, what a loser- ow!" Haechan doubled over in pain. 

"Don't listen to him, he doesn't mean it" Jeno gave his signature eye smile after elbowing the aforementioned male.

"Oh wait, y/n? Like, the really pretty one? That y/n?" Mark spoke again. 

"Yeah... that y/n" Renjun buried his face further into his hands, if it was even possible to hide that much more. 

"Why don't you just ask her out?" 

"...too scared" Renjun timidly said. 

"Why?" 

"Because she's her and I'm...me" he simply explained.

"Dude, come on, we'll help you out, don't worry, leave it to us and you'll have your girlfriend before you know it," Mark said, wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders.

"And how do you plan on doing that exactly?" 

"As I said, leave it to us, all you have to do is show up" Mark assured.

"Yeah, because you're such a lady's man," Haechan said, earning a glare from the older one. 

"Don't worry, just trust us, dude" 

Renjun doesn't know why he decided to trust them with this. But he did, opting to make desperation the reason why he agreed to let them do whatever they were going to do.

...................

You were currently on your date with Minjun, a former classmate of yours that you had recently started talking to again. Sure, he was nice, but you didn't see him being anything more than a friend from high school. The only reason you agreed to go on a date with him was because you felt bad saying no, especially with how he awkwardly held up the flowers he got you. Shaking you out of your thoughts, he handed you the drink you ordered, you thanked him and sat down, hoping that you could at least enjoy the date even if you didn't see this going far. Just as Minjun was about to strike up a conversation, a group of loud boys came into the boba shop you resided in. 

"Oh my gosh, y/n! It's you!" you looked up, seeing Jeno wave at you, the other members following suit. Well, all of the members except Renjun, what a shame.

"Oh, hey guys," you said as they came up to you. Minjun looked over, clearly uncomfortable with how the group of six interrupted his date with you. 

"Um, are you getting drinks? And where's Renjun?"

"Oh, he got held back at practice, and we're here on a mission- stop elbowing me!" Haechan explained before yelling at Jeno. 

"And what's going on here, y/n?" Jeno calmly asked.

"I'm on a date, this is Minjun, I know him from high school," 

"Oh, well, we'll let you get back to it then, it was nice seeing you" 

"You too, and say hi to Renjun for me!" you said as they left.

"Yeah, we'll see you around-oh, I'm so sorry!" Chenle feigned guilt as everyone looked at the spilled drink on Minjun's shirt and lap. You hadn't noticed how fake the apology was, but that was fine by the boys, who made no moves to get napkins or something to clean it up whatsoever. 

"It's fine, um, do you mind helping me get something to wipe it off with?" Minjun spoke towards the group. 

"Oh, we would but we're already late so just have y/n send the dry cleaning bill, okay bye!" Jaemin replied, pushing the rest out the door to mimic a rush. 

"Here, let me help you," you offered, getting napkins and wiping off his shirt as best you could. 

"I'm so sorry about that, but please let me get the dry cleaning for this-"

"Don't worry about it," he smiled at you.

...................

As the date went on, it was clear that it wasn't going well. Maybe he had bad luck, but nothing was going the way Minjun had hoped it would. From the spilled drink to his phone getting lost and then his card getting declined, things weren't looking too good.

"Maybe we should call it a night so you can figure things out," you suggested.

"Nonono, we're going on this date," he insisted, almost sounding scary with how determined he was.

"No, really, we can go another time, you sound frustrated, not to mention your clothes, phone, and card-"

"So you're embarrassed to be with me, is that it?"

"Not at all, I'm just worried since you don't have your phone and your card is getting declined"

"I didn't know that you were a gold digger, would've never expected this from you, y/n" he scoffed.

"What? No, I'm genuinely-"

"Whatever, you should be thankful I asked you out at all"

That was your breaking point, only making a quick comment about wishing him home safely before speedwalking away. As you were in your head about what had happened, you bumped into someone. Someone very familiar.

"ah, I'm so sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to do that and bump into you, I was just-" Renjun kept rambling on with apologies until you cut him off with a hug. He awkwardly pats your back a bit until you hugged him tighter, making him relax and start brushing his fingers through your hair.  

"What happened?" he asked you softly, voice calming you instantly.

"My date was an ass" you replied.

"I'm sorry, you deserve much better than that, any guy would be lucky to have you...or girl. I don't want to assume or anything you know and just-" he started rambling again. 

A smile graced your features as he kept going on, thinking of how cute he was getting so worried as to whether he offended you or not. You simply laughed a bit, making him let go of the hug and scratch the back of his neck instead, a sheepish expression painted on his face. 

"It's okay don't worry so much, Junnie" you reassured him. 

He blushed a bit at the nickname you had used. If anyone else had called that, he might've threatened to punch them by now, but you were an exception. You were always an exception to him. You always will be because well, you're special to him. The only person that makes him not want to punch them every time they tease him or call him a nickname of some sort. Even if you dared to call him Renjeon or some other incorrect pronunciation of his name, he would still find it endearing. 

"You still there?" you waved your hand at him a bit.

"Yeah, for you, I always am-"

"YEAH, THAT'S OUR RENJUN BEING SMOOTH AS HECK" could be heard from a nearby bush before abruptly being shut up. The voice sounding an awful lot like Jaemin if you were being honest. 

Looking back at Renjun, whose face was now a deep shade of red, you laughed once again, this time at his friend's antics. He tried his best to smile back, swearing to get back at Jaemin when he gets the chance, but you didn't need to know that. 

"This is embarrassing..." he cringed at his friend's comment.

"It's okay, you actually look adorable when you're embarrassed like this" you confess.

"I'm sorry about him, he's just- wait what? You think that I'm adorable...?" he gets even more sheepish than he was before if it was even possible. 

"I always think you are" you let out another confession.

"I like you!" he blurts out with his eyes closed, scared to see your reaction.

You smile at him once more, even if he couldn't see it.

"I like you too, Junnie," you tell him.

"YEAH, GET IT RENJUN, THAT'S OUR FRIEND RIGHT THERE. OPERATION GET RENJUN A GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCESS, SUCKERS"

"SHUT UP, JAEMIN"

[sharkboygirlish]

Messy.

ONE-SHOT

Word count: 2793

Disclaimer:  One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.

Warning: None

Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)

Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now.  At long last it it FINISHED.

Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.

Without further ado, here ya go.

Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.

Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

__________________________________________

The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching. 

She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’

Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again. 

Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately. 

Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being. 

Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could. 

“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”

He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’ 

Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’

Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.

‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated. 

He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that. 

But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’

“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”

“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?” 

He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’

Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”

Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…

But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’  

Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”

“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”

“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”

Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’

“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.

                                                       * * *

“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.

Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’

“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.

“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.

‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘

“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”

Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.

“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”

Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.

“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”

“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”

An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’

“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”

Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.

He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this. 

Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’

                                                        * * *

“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.

‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.

“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”

When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”

Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.

“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.

‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?

It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.

Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.

Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’

Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…

‘Zoro was crying.’

Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.

One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.

‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’

“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”

‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.

“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.

A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”

[a-fluffer-nutter]

The Fox And The Turtle

A/N - Hey guys, this was such a fun fic to write! This was prompted by a lovely anon who commissioned me on my Kofi! To that wonderful anon, I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for helping me out a bit, my boyfriend and I used the money to buy a celebratory dinner after we got accepted for an apartment! If anyone else would like their own amazing fic, let me know or head on over to my Kofi and let’s get the process started. 

This is a Miraculous Ladybug fic featuring Nino and Alya. Please Enjoy.

Word Count: 4,034

           The first time was unexpected, an accident really. She never expected to get that close to him, to want to be so close to him.

           Alya Césaire had invited Nino Lahiffe to a nearby café to talk. She had arrived early in the morning, wanting to finish some schoolwork and to get started on a new blog post. There was so much she needed to catch her blog up with, especially with what had happened the week before.

           Lady Wifi.

           She never wanted it to happen, why would she? She idolized Ladybug, most of her blog was dedicated to the hero, but she had been the cause of another fight Ladybug and Chat Noir had to undertake. It all happened because of her.

           The autumn breeze rustled the sleepy trees, sending leaves of orange, red, and yellow floating toward the ground. The air was just beginning to have a chill bite at the bare skin of passersby, but this didn’t faze the people of Paris, most of them thrilled that the summer heat was fading, and autumn was taking over again. Kids had just returned to school, most of the teens excited to spend their weekends at the mall hanging out with their closest friends.

           Nino was on his way to the café to visit Alya. He hadn’t seen much of her that summer, though had followed her online presence closely. It was hard not to, when Alya seemed to run a major blog in basically every topic. In fact, Nino had been browsing online forums about Donkey Kong a few days prior, wanting to prove some sort of point to his younger brother, when he stumbled upon a Donkey Kong fan blog Alya had made a few years before. Sure, she hadn’t touched it in a long time, but the fact that Nino had accidentally found something made by her had made him laugh at the time.

           Humming to himself, Nino danced between small puddles of water that speckled the sidewalk. Staring at his phone, he tried to think of a good playlist for the next school dance. It was that time of year again; the dance wasn’t going to DJ itself.

           “Britney Spears or Lady Gaga?” Nino muttered to himself, staring at the blank note page he just opened on his phone. He may have had Lady Gaga playing in his headphones at the moment, but that didn’t mean Britney Spears wasn’t a favorite of his.

           A church bell chimed in the distance, Nino looking up from his phone in panic.

           “Oh no,” Nino said to himself. He was late to his meeting with Alya. Nearly tripping over a stroller with a screaming toddler inside, Nino jogged toward his destination, still considering what Lady Gaga song would be the best to dance to.

             Alya recoiled as she burnt her tongue again. She had just sat down with her steaming mug, her third pumpkin spiced latte of the day. She might have enjoyed making fun of people who drink pumpkin spice lattes, but they were too good for her to resist.

           “Ow,” She moaned, her tongue sticking out slightly between her plump lips. She had a habit of just rushing into things, being impulsive. From risking it all to get the next big scoop to instantly taking a drink of something she knew would burn her tongue, Alya had a penchant for impulsivity.

           The chime above the door rang, Nino throwing it open with so much force that it startled everyone inside in the café. Giving an embarrassed smile, Nino gave a short wave to the older lady who spilt a bit of coffee down her dress. Looking up from her computer, Alya rolled her eyes at the sight of Nino, though she couldn’t help the smile on her face.

           “Hi Alya,” Nino grinned, pulling off his headphones and slipped them down his neck. “Sorry I’m late, I got distracted.”

           “It’s fine,” Alya replied, waving her hand, motioning for him to sit.

           “Before we start,” Dropping his backpack to the floor, Nino plopped down into his seat, sitting across from Alya. “Do you prefer Britney Spears or Lady Gaga?”

           “You can’t choose between the two of them,” Alya let out a laugh, thinking about her fan blogs she has created for both of them in the past.

           “You’re no help,” Chided Nino, Alya simply replied by sticking out her tongue, still numb from burning it.

           “Anyway, I wanted your help with something,” Alya quickly changed the subject, getting down to business. Nino smiled expectantly, tilting his head ever so slightly. “I need to update my blog about Ladybug, but I don’t really know how to do it.”

           “Oh, I thought this was going to be something important,” Nino laughed, laughing harder when Alya shot him a death glare. He lifted his hands, “I kid, I kid. But how can I help you with your blog? You know more about Ladybug than anyone else I know. Wait, this isn’t about Chloe, is it? If so, I’m not helping you snoop on her more. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

           “Oh no, I’m definitely never snooping on Chloe again, she definitely isn’t Ladybug.”

           “Then, what do you need?” Nino leaned back, glancing up at the drink menu above the front counter. He may have been interested in whatever Alya was talking about, but he was torn between whether to order a strawberry smoothy or a chocolate caramel latte.

           “Lady Wifi,” Nino’s eyes shot down at her words.

           “Why are you asking me about her, you are her,” His voice dropped, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear him.

           “That’s the thing,” Alya looked down at her keyboard, fingers circling the keys. “I don’t remember it at all. I guess that’s good, because I could’ve hurt someone really bad and I would have to live with remembering myself doing that, but I don’t, which is really weird. I just feel bad about battling my idol, like I could have really hurt her! I don’t want to do that, besides, what would I do if I can’t blog about her?”

           “Work on your other eight hundred blogs. Or you know, schoolwork,” Nino rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a short laugh when Alya shot him another glare.

           “Come on, Nino,” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Please help me.”

           “Okay, sure thing,” Nino smiled, leaning forward, placing a hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze. “What do you want to know?”

           Instead of replying, Alya let out a stream of giggles, instinctually scooching back in her chair. Shocked, Nino pulled his hand back, lips parting.

           That was adorable.

           “Don’t tickle me, Nino,” Alya said, rubbing her knee, numbing the area of the ticklish shocks that just jolted through her muscles. “This is serious.”

           “Sorry,” Nino rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by the blush he could feel painting his cheeks, crawling up to his ears.

           “Anyways,” Alya went on, ignoring Nino’s discomfort, and went on talking about Lady Wifi. Nino answered as many questions as he could, but he couldn’t stop the image of her giggling face from being at the forefront of his thoughts. Nino wanted to see it again but didn’t know when he would have the chance to.

**

                       “Nino!” Alya giggled, attempting to curl into herself.

           The attack had come unexpectedly, but there was not much she could do. Fighting back could give herself away, and it wouldn’t be for another few months that Nino would learn the new truth about her. She let him get away with the attack, though with her new strength, it was much harder to hold back.

           Nino sat over her, his knees straddling her thighs and hips, putting just enough pressure to pin the legs to the bench without crushing her. He sat triumphantly on her thighs, fitting perfectly between the hem of her jeans and her knees, which happened to be exposed that day thanks to the fashionable tears that came with them. He held her wrists together in one hand, surprised by how tiny her wrists were in comparison, he laughed victoriously once he had them pinned to the wooden bench, her hair messily entangled beneath.

           “Something wrong?” Nino teased, his free hand resting on her knee, feeling the short stubbly hair on her skin. Why shave in the winter when nobody was going to see it?

           “What are you doing?” Alya asked, voice trembling. The skin on her legs were coated with anticipatory goosebumps.

           Nino simply responded with a curt grunt and a slight shrug, then proceeded to squeeze the knee cap. Giggles filled her belly, rising to her throat like bubbles blowing in the wind. Alya bit back the laughter, her teeth pressing into her plump bottom lip, ruby lipstick painting a thin layer of gloss onto her teeth. She managed to hold back the laughter for a bit as he focused on squeezing just the kneecap but lost her composure a bit as he slipped his hand through the hole and hooked his fingers beneath her leg and scratched behind her knee.

           “Nino,” Alya squeaked before the vast number of giggly bubbles slipped through her control and turned into one of the most beautiful sounds Nino had ever heard. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away so he couldn’t see her smile as well, though she fought the urge to tug at her arms.

           “Wow, Alya,” Nino cooed, his short nails still scratching at the skin, his fingers moving swiftly as if helping her scratch a persistent itch she couldn’t reach. “If you’re this ticklish here, you must be super ticklish everywhere else too.”

           Letting out a little yelp, Alya continued to giggle as Nino crawled his hands a little further up the leg and lightly traced swirls into the back of her lower thigh.

           Alya decided not to give him the satisfaction of conceding at all, of begging. Ladybug had just given her own Miraculous, which hid beneath her shirt, but she wasn’t afraid at this moment that Nino was going to see it. It would have to take a lot of thrashing for it to make an appearance, and Alya knew that wasn’t going to happen. Speaking of her Miraculous, Trixx was still hiding in her fanny pack, which thankfully was sitting next to her backpack on the ground below the bench. Lucky for Trixx, as he would be crushed by Nino if Alya hadn’t taken the fanny pack off before this all went down.

           “How about here?” Nino let out a small laugh as he quickly reached forward and latched onto her hip bone. Despite it not being that ticklish of a spot, Alya still let out a giggly gasp and a short kick. She dug the heel of her shoes into the bench, giving her something to focus on, grounding her just a bit.

           “Her giggle is adorable,” Nino thought, ecstasy flowing through his bloodstream, her smile and giggle like a drug to him. Though she was hiding her face, he could still see enough of her face to take in the beauty of it all, her lips curled up into a smile bright enough to rival all the stars in the sky.

           Needing more, Nino walked his fingers up just a bit to poke at her sides. Each poke elicited a giggle of a slightly higher pitch led Nino to the conclusion that this spot was a bit better than the last. Curling his fingers into a mimicry of claws, he pressed them into the softer flesh and began to vibrate his hand. This turned out to be a great technique.

           “No!” Alya nearly screamed, the dam finally collapsing and out flowed her wonderfully boisterous laughter. She let out another kick, then dug her heel back into the bench, trying hard to get control again.

           Ticklish shocks resonated through her body, sending surges from her side through her chest and into her throat, which continued to pour out waves of contagious laughter. Despite all this, she still did not tug at all at her arms. This was not satisfactory, not at all, to Nino. He wanted to watch her struggle, to writhe and laugh underneath him, under his ticklish touch. Alya, though, could not let this happen. She was a heroine, after all. A new hero, but still a hero that shouldn’t be taken down by something as silly as tickling. She knew she could fight it until Nino grew bored, she had to.

           “This a good spot?” Nino beamed, tempted to pull his other hand down to do the same to her other side, but thought against it. He won’t let go until she pulls free or begs.

           Nino didn’t know why he was being so sadistic all of a sudden, but he liked it. He liked seeing Alya like this, so flustered, so adorable...no. He didn’t want to admit it yet, he couldn’t like her like that, at least he didn’t think so. But she was so pretty, with eyes that glowed like gold coins and her lips as beautiful as rubies.

           “It tickles,” Alya broke Nino out of his thoughts, bringing out a laugh from him.

           “Well, I hope so,” Nino grinned, fingers stilling briefly before walking up to the base of her ribs.  “That’s kinda the point.”

           Alya let out a squeak as he gently prodded between her bottom two ribs. Nino’s grin spread wider as a devious idea flickered into frame in his mind.

           “Do you know how many ribs the average person has?” Nino asked, mindlessly tapping the same spot between the two ribs over and over, enjoying the small flinch each poke provoked.

           “Twenty-four?” Alya asked after a moment of thinking it over. Something like this should’ve come quickly, but she was a bit distracted at the moment.

           “Yep,” Another poke. “Let’s see if you have twenty-four, too.”

           Without a second to protest if she had wanted, Nino scratched at the lowest rib. Alya let out a breathy giggle, turning her head back so she could see him.

           “One,” Nino said before walking his fingers up to the next one. “Two.”

           “Three,” Alya found herself saying between nearly silent giggles. Nino raised an eyebrow, surprised by her participation. He briefly wondered if she was enjoying it but thought otherwise. Though maybe.

           “Four,” Her giggle became a bit more desperate. “Five.”

           “Six,” Alya startled Nino again, though pressed her face into her arm, hiding from him as much as she could.

           “Seven” Alya cackled, wiggling a bit in anticipation.

           The next three were in her armpit, which is standard anatomy. Alya knew this was going to be hard but tried to hold back as much laughter as she could. Unfortunately for her, it was not much.

           “It tickles!” She squealed, beginning to hysterically laugh as Nino counted the eighth rib. She couldn’t help but toss her head back, laughter pouring from her widely grinning mouth.

           “Nine,” It was hard for Nino to hear himself over her laughter, though he didn’t mind it all that much. That and he knew he wouldn’t be able to count a proper twenty-four. Alya likely didn’t know this fact, or at least Nino hoped so.

           Hands tightly balling into fists, her nails dug into the palms of her hands. It took a lot of effort to not struggle, her armpit being ruthlessly attacked by now, Nino having just announced the tenth rib, but didn’t really seem to be attacking it. Instead, he just scratched all five fingers along the exposed area. Nino was lucky that the day had been unusually warm for the end of autumn, as Alya opted to wear a tank top under a light jean jacket today, which she had taken off earlier into their hangout. This left nothing to protect her sensitive bare skin from his dull, scribbling nails raking up and down this one armpit.

           “Want me to stop?” Nino asked, wanting to see what she would do. She responded by glaring daggers at him, though due to the current situation, these daggers were more like pencils, not very dangerous, but still hurts a little if stabbed by one.

           “Sure,” Was all Alya could say. She wouldn’t beg for him to stop, not wanting to concede. She could take it, but she wouldn’t mind at all if Nino was bored and wanted to stop. This, however, was definitely not the case.

           “That wasn’t very convincing!” Nino let out a laugh as he wore a goofy grin. “If you want me to stop, you have to say, ‘Yes, Nino the Great and Wonderful, please stop tickling me!’”

           “Never,” Alya exclaimed, then let out a shriek as he suddenly attacked her other armpit. The pads of her fingers teased the shaved skin, the sensitivity of this armpit higher than the last thanks to the long anticipation Alya had to endure. She knew it was coming, but still could not brace herself for it.

           “Well, that’s no fun,” Nino pouted, sticking out his lower lip ever so slightly. His fingers stilled for a moment, contemplating his next move. “Hm…how can I make you beg for mercy?”

           “You can’t,” Alya chided, stretching her fingers as she breathed heavily, glad to have fresh air circulating through her lungs once more. “You can’t do anything to make me beg.”

           “Is that a challenge?” Nino sneered, raising an eyebrow. “Alright then, I accept that challenge.”

           Sucking in as much air as she could in anticipation, Alya tightened all her muscles and clenched her fists once again. Her heels dug back into the bench, ready to be a physical support in this endeavor.

           “Hm…” Nino poked the tip of his tongue out, contemplating his next move. Her armpits were a good spot, but she would probably expect that. He could sit on her arms and attack both at once, but that wouldn’t give him any other options for tickling her, except for her neck. Her neck seemed promising, but for some reason, he just felt something was telling him not to, like something in his brain nudging him another way.

           He glanced down at her stomach, a very easy spot for him to reach in this position, and one she couldn’t defend whatsoever even if she tried.

           “Does this tickle?” Nino asked as he reached down as if to tickle her armpit, but then withdrew his hand quickly and went for her belly.

           “Yes!” Alya let out a snort after a shrill scream, her heels pounding against the bench. Nino’s hand teased at the softer skin from her hips to right below her naval, poking at just the right spots to make her cackle and throw her head from side to side. “It tickles so much!”

           Nino was shocked by how toned her stomach was, the faint outline of abs could be felt through her shirt. 

            “Have you been working out?” Nino admired her belly, tracing his fingers over the muscles. “I’m a bit jealous. Maybe we can work out together. But oh well, it sure isn’t stopping you from being super ticklish!”

            “Shut up!”

           “Are you going to beg me to stop?” Nino asked, his nails now skittering over an overly sensitive spot just beneath the left side of her rib cage.

           “Never,” Alya repeated, her hands hurting just a bit from how tight she was straining her fists. It just tickled so much; her belly being one of her worst spots. That and… “No!”

           “Aw, does Alya have a ticklish little belly button?” Nino cooed, single finger wiggling in her belly button like a worm wriggling around on a fishing hook. Alya’s laughter was loud, likely heard by all who resided in Paris. She flailed her legs, not able to steady or ground herself any longer, her heels bashing the wooden boards beneath her. Her hips bounced as she thrashed and turned, trying to get her wrists free without hurting him, but Nino wouldn’t let go. She still knew she could get free, but she didn’t want to use all of her newfound strength, not wanting him to know that she was as strong as a heroine now.

           “It’s so ticklish. It’s so cute!” Nino’s voice was cutesy, adorable, as if he was talking to a puppy. As his index finger swirled around in her navel, his other fingers scratched at her tummy, Alya letting out a howl of ticklish mirth and agony. “How can such a tiny little thing be so ticklish?”

           “Shut up!” Alya let out another snort as she shot her retort.

           “You want me to stop?”

           “I’m not begging.”

           “Fine,” Nino grinned, devious plan forming in his mind. Without any hesitation, Nino let go of Alya’s wrists and thrust his hand down under her arm and began to tickle her armpit at the same time as her belly was being obliterated.

           “Stop!” She finally let out, bringing her arms down, trapping his hand in her armpit.

           “I will only stop if you say the magic words,” Nino laughed, dipping his middle finger into her belly button to help his index finger. Letting out another few snorts, Alya shook her head.

           “No,” Alya repeated over and over, smacking his chest, though not very hard. “Stop.”

           “Nah,” Nino let out a chuckle as he bent over, his fingers on her belly stopping momentarily to lift her shirt up to the bottom of her ribs. Sucking in the deepest of breaths, Nino planted his lips onto the skin around her belly button and blew the largest raspberry he could.

           “Mercy!” Alya tapped her fingers against the bench, tapping out.

           “You’re welcome,” Nino winked, thinking his pun was pretty funny. Alya simply responded with a half assed glare. He pulled his hands and face away from her body and looked over her, his head tilted a bit to the side. “Are you okay?”

           “Yeah,” Alya said as she gasped in more air, her lungs trying to catch up from the lack of oxygen she has had for the last half hour or so, or at least she thinks it was that long. Her current perception of time was definitely a bit messed up. “That was a lot.”

           “Sorry,” Nino let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted himself off her, standing up next to her. “I guess I went a little overboard.”

           “You think?” Alya smacked him with the back of her hand, finally feeling like she had the strength to sit back up. She rotated around to face him and put her hands on her hips. “I’m going to get you back, Nino. Mark my words.”

           “I’ll remember,” Nino winked, but he didn’t remember for that long.

**

           “You’re so mean!” Nino cackled, his head thrown back, his armpits being tickled by Alya, who was sitting behind him, her legs crossed, wrapped around his torso.

           “This is revenge, Nino,” Alya teased, quickly blowing a raspberry against his neck, eliciting a loud laugh.

           “It tickles so much,” Nino squeaked, wiggling around, but despite being the superhero, Carapace, he is not nearly as strong as Alya. She has been in the game for much longer, which he had just learned and was amazed that she didn’t literally kill him when he last tickled her. He was incredibly fortunate, but here he was, getting the worst punishment of his life.

           “That’s the point, Nino,” Alya grinned, slipped her left hand down and reached forward, grabbing at his knee, and squeezed.

           “Stop!” Nino yelled, his laughter louder than ever. “It tickled too much!”

           “Well, maybe you should have thought about that when you tickled me first.”

           “That was months ago,” Nino wheezed, too ticklish for his own good. While Alya had, quite possibly, the most ticklish belly button in the whole world, Nino was definitely more ticklish overall. Every inch of his body was ticklish, and his knees were quite bad.

           “Well, I like to hold grudges,” Alya gave a villainous laugh, now attacking his ribs and thighs.

           “I give, I give!” Nino let out a snort, unable to take any more tickling. “It’s too ticklish!”

           “Say that I am the best tickler in the world.”

           “Alya is the best tickler in the world,” Nino repeated, though thought about being snide, though thought against it. He really couldn’t take much more.

           “Good,” Alya said, withdrawing her body from his and stretched. “I think we’re pretty even now. Don’t you?”

           “Definitely,” Nino replied, unable to shake the phantom tickles he still felt. “We’re even.”

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch23 Poppy’s Day Out

"Last stop Express Town. Thank you for choosing PenCo Metro for all your space travels. We at PenCo value your time as customers and hope to see your lovely faces again soon. And hope you enjoyed your space traveling experiences with us." The few penguins that were on the metro along with Poppy, Cookie, and the girls excited the space train as it sat still in the giant tower like structure funnel that would take it back upwards to the moon. Passing a few other penguins and maybe an owl or two heading back towards it. "Attention boarding passengers. The Evening Express back to the moon will leaving within fifthteen minutes. Please be sure to have your luggage in hand when you board."

"Does he always have to say the same thing every time we use it?," Mu asked earning a slight frown from Cookie.

"That's his JOB. It's what he's supposed to do. Don't complain about him doing his job correctly."

Whelp. Here they were. Down on the planet finally and had real dirt under her feet.....Or sand. Really, REALLY hot sand. Blue eyes gazed around her at the scorching desert surroundings and the decently sized town of owls walking around. It looked as if she just walked into a western movie and stopped. There must've been at least a hundred and twenty different buildings if she was estimating it good enough from their spot on the hill. It was a decent sized town all right. Not too big. Not too small. But absolutely hot with the afternoon sun beating down on them and such. One gigantic building stood in the dead center of the town and it had a decent sized parking lot too. She was certainly more at ease and comforted at least. Express Town certainly looked more her time than the flashy neon lights of Moon City that's for sure. Smiling she followed along Cookie as the girls ran ahead of them a few feet giggling and playfully shoving at one another kicking up sand.

"This place looks pretty rustic," Poppy commented smiling. From the hill she could also see a set of train tracks leading into and away from the town and beside that was a train station. Everything just looked as it was in a western like town in her day. Not that she's ever been to one, but she did have relitives who did.

Cookie nodded in front of her watching the girls with a smile. "That there big building is the Dead Bird Studios. Most of the owls who live here work there or in the small shops around town. You see Conductor may be a little.....loud but he loves supportin' local shops here. He gets all his costumes from the famous clothing store nearby, and his coffee from Jukebox Cafe'. They have a delicious bird seed chocolate cappuccino...If you don't mind birdseed that is. My own little resturaunt is right across the street from the studios. I always wanted one, and thanks to the directors' generosity I finally did."

".....I think I actually saw one of this Mr. Grooves's picture shows now that I think about it." Her memory went to two night before while cleaning the attic and kitchen. She still couldn't sleep after a while and stayed up a bit watching something she couldn't remember fully on the television the girls left on.

"Oh really? Well Mr. Grooves certainly has a more flashier taste than Conductor but his are just as nice if you ask me," Cookie replied unbiased before looking over her shoulder at her. "The first place we'll stop by is Hawk's Eye Pawn shop."

".....Pawn shop?"

"It's kinda like a trading post. You trade things there for pons or bye somethin' they have on the store shelves."

Oh. So a trading post. She knew what those were alright, had one on the edge of the town she lived in. Where she got most of her furniture and goods actually. Following Cookie, they all went into the town of owls. And she got a good look at everyday life in a town of owls and birds. As soon they stepped foot in there she could see that everything was made a little taller thank goodness, she didn't feel like crawling through any more doorways and tunnels feeling awkward and big and clumsy. Funnily enough most of the houses they passed seemed to be nothing more than homes, if the stores didn't have open signs or display cases in their windows, she would've thought all of these were just more homes for these owls. And speaking of the owls, most were just walking around minding their own business, walking in or out of buildings, and Poppy even saw a few elderly owls in the comfy seats of rocking chairs on shady porches watching the world go by. The girls giggled and ran past them in a game of tag with Bow reaching her hand out trying to catch Hattie or Mu. And some of the old birds smiled at the energetic children. Poppy would admit they were definately a cute bunch as well. Still following the cat, Poppy lifted her arm up to wipe at her long bangs and forehead. It sure was hot, not surprising since it was a desert, but she hoped they'd get to this 'pawn shop' soon. And hoped it was cooler inside. The girls never got too far from them as they ran around kicking up dust and sand in their game as Poppy switched between watching them and looking around fanning herself. Where did they all get that energy? It was too hot to play in her opinion, and the weight of the gold in her apron was starting to hurt her neck and shoulders a bit. That was soon all solved when Cookie turned in front of an all brown wooden building and started up the steps leading into it. Of course Poppy and the girls following behind and running in. A small bell above the door rang out as the door was opened and Poppy sighed at the wave of cool air hitting them as they waltzed in. But was surprised at the stuff she saw. Calm guitar music played from a small radio in the corner as an owl held his head in his wing looking boredly at them from the desk, to his right was a register. All around the place was cluttered items jammed everywhere. From beds, to pots and pans lining the walls, to random objects she'd never seen before.

With a sigh the owl spoke. "Welcome to Hawk's Eye Pawn Shop, where we have a hawk's eye view for priceless and useful objects. Feel free to ask if you need any help.....or not, " he said in a flat tone. Giving Poppy the feeling of slight annoyance in her as she raised a brow. Luckily Cookie stepped in before anyone else could as the girls ran around looking at things like normal children their age did. Walking right up to the desk as the owl followed along lazily with his eyes as he stared at Cookie before rolling his eyes. "Hello, Ma'am. How may I assist you this fine evening?"

"Glad you asked." Cookie pointed over at Poppy. "My friend here has a lot of gold she'd like to trade in today."

"..Gold?" Immediately the owl's interest peeked as he chuckled and finally smiled at them, "Oh w-well this IS a surprise! Please come, come! You've come to the right place, Miss." He gestured for Poppy to come over and reluctantly she did as the owl rubbed his hands-....uh..Wings together and smiled widely at her. "Just allow me to measure it a-and we can get you your pons, Ma'am."

"Uh...Ok." She reached down to the larger pocket of the two and pulled out the heavy gold cheese wheel, it must've been fifteen pounds at least. She set it with a small thump on the table and the owl hooted in surprise at the large item she placed down. Blinking and gawking in surprise at the large thing. ....Which was followed by the trophy, and the potion bottle out of her large pocket. And then the Mafia statue, pencil, candle, gear, and cheese slice. The owl gawking at all the things laid out before him in pure gold glory. "There ya go. That's the lot of it."

The owl sputtered blinking at them all....Before reaching up to pull out a small magnifying device out of his breast pocket and picked up the golden candle. "T-T-This is!...INCREDIBLE!! I've never seen such fine craftsmanship in my life! AND IN PURE GOLD!! It's unmistakable! Pure. Solid. Twenty four carrot GOLD!!" He could almost FEEL the heat radiating off the candle, it almost looked like it could've been real at one point. He looked back at Poppy unbelieving. "W-Where did you ever aquire such beautiful items?!"

"Oh...I- Uh..." She had to think fast. She wasn't about to tell some stranger some magic alien potion turned these things into gold by some king roach. They'd think she was crazy. So why not tell the truth but a different truth. "My g-great granddaddy on my mama's side was a blacksmith. He worked with metal's all the time." Which was true. Her Great Granddaddy Silver Copper-field on her mother's side was a blacksmith.

"But we found them in the attic," Bow innocently chimed in tilting her head confused.

Mild panick flashed on Poppy's face. "Uh...W-Well people find all sorts of old things in their attics all t-the time!"

Which was another truth. But the owl seemed too enchanted by the items he rolled over his his hold to care about her nervous tone at all. "Well he must've been a fine crafter in his day. I've NEVER seen such beauty." He snapped up to her suddenly slamming his hands on the counter and leaning over making her jump in surprise and lean back. "I MUST have them! Won't you part with them! It'll make me the talk of the town for once besides those ratty directors!! I'll be the only bird in the world to have them!!"

Now Poppy could sense pretty well when some one was gonna fight being raised around a bunch of rowdy country folk that often fought over land and territory. And BOY! The way the two little girls and Cookie bristled at the comment the owl made sure did look like they were about to argue, but that was NOT what she came here to do. She wanted to get out and have a relaxing day seeing this new place, so thinking quickly she got between them and the owl smiling more than a greedy pirate. "Deal. But on the condition ya give me what I'm owed for it all, and the promise ya won't say a word about where ya got it from." She didn't need someone asking around in case.

He quickly agreed grabbed the gold one by one. "Oh I promise. I very, very promise. Hmhmhmhmhm!! Not one word out of me. After all I don't want anyone else to have one but me."

Poppy sighed and watched as with great difficulty the owl man just gathered up all the gold in his arms teetering and wobbling about as he went towards the left side of the counter. They all watched as he wobbled his way towards a large scale against the wall that reminded Poppy of the large scale the local banker used to have to measure her pons in whenever she went to put her savings in the bank, only much bigger. A few large clanging noises rang out as he dumped the gold into it and watched as the red arrow of the scale tipped until it measured-

"F-F-Fifty two pounds!," the owl gawked at the scales before giving a thoughtful look. "Let's see. Minus tax on gold fifty two equals up too about....." His eyes widened and he suddenly let out a hoot gripping the feathers on his head. "F-F-Five thousand pons!!"

"Oh....Do you not have that m-many pons?"

"Uh..." The owl nervously looked between her and the statues. "N-No. J-Just a little over half of it. B-B-BUT I-I C-CAN OFFER A TRADE!!" He quickly pointed around the cluttered place, as if nervous to lose the precious gold he so desperately wanted. "I-I can pay half and trade for the other! W-Whatcha say?"

Poppy stopped for a minute. Looking around the cluttered place with a raised brow, and gazing over everything slowly. That wasn't a bad idea actually. Since she could use some knew things once she gets settled on her own again and didn't need anymore help. And getting stuff for free? Now they were talking! Maybe this was the universe paying her back for all her troubles and hard work finally! Smiling she happily agreed to the deal much to the Owl's delight and he quickly scrambled about to grab all the pons he needed for the trade from a giant vault in the back and they began searching. Well, the girls found lots of little knickknacks like small toys and for Bow a large sunhat with a pretty blue bow on it and how could Poppy say no to that? Well, the red head wasn't going for any random fancy stuff like antique clocks or any other fancy thing right now. But considering $2600) was a lot of pons to trade for, she could spare them to choose a bunch of things for themselves. But looking among some used exercize bikes she found a few things she was really looking forward to see again. What else but some good old fashioned farming tools? A rake, gardon hoe, pitchfork, shovel combo! She hit the giant jackpot!! Smiling as she dragged the old things out of the dusty corner and examined them. They looked to be in good condition. Rusty and dusty, but a mighty fine condition if ya asked her.

"Uh. Ma'am, are you sure you want those?," the owl said leaning back over the counter staring, "T-Those are antique farming tools that were just dumped in the corner. No one would want them.

"I sure do!," She said smiling back at his confused face, "They're just what I needed.

"Well...Y-Yes, t-t-they're in great condition for three hundred year old tools. That's why they're here, they could run in the thousands. Are you sure you want to waste your time with them?"

"Yep!" She Heaved all of them over one of her shoulders with a smile. "I got a plan for these babies. You just keep counting the pons."

"Ok. If that's what you want. It'll be nice to get them out at least," he mumbled to himself ducking back behind the counter.

Continuing looking around a little bit, Poppy managed to find a gold club bag along with her search and stuck her new tools into it, slinging it over herself and able to carry about her new beauties easier. Turns out those tools and the old antique stove Cookie kept looking at. Poppy saw the way she kept longingly staring at it every few minutes of looking around and gladly said she'd take that for her friend here. Cookie insisted she didn't have to but Poppy's mind was already made up anyways, as stated she didn't need that much pons leftover to trade back here again anyways. And she deserved it for all the kindness she had shown Poppy a complete and utter stranger. Well it turns out the knick knacks Hattie stuffed in her hat, (just random things like a few teddy bears, jewelry, a grappling hook, and anything else a girl like her would enjoy) combined with the old stove and it's set, along with those old tools were just enough to cover the other half but she did have to fork over another 100 pons to cover the extra 100 pons the tax came out to be. The bag she was handed wasn't really big, about maybe a small decent sized pumpkin and weighed about as much as a large house cat did. And that went into her large apron pocket for safe keeping while slipping the gold back of farming tools over her. She still had $2,500 to spend. And that was quite a lot of pons especially. Luckily the things weren't as expensive as made out to be. But that did leave another question, what were they supposed to do now? Luckily Cookie had a fantastic idea after seeing the way the uh....tacky dress Poppy was wearing and had the idea for them to stop by the local clothing store much to the children's protest about how boring it was going to be. So they once again found themselves leaving the greedy owl to fond over his new prized possesions and left back out into the hot sun. Resuming their routine of Poppy following behind Cookie as she lead them down the street to wards the far side of the town as the kids ran around again chasing one another. The only difference was Bow was using one hand to keep that giant sun hat on her head now as she went around running after the first two. Poppy still couldn't figure out how Hattie kept all those things in her hat. Alien magic?

"You'll adore this lil shoppe," Cookie happily told her giving a bright grin, "They're real experts at fancy sewing. You see they make most of the costumes for the studio and the directors' movies."

"It sounds like this whole town thrives on that place huh?," Poppy stated giving a look around the old buildings and many owls walking by.

"Oh, this town has been here for quite a long time with the studios," Cookie corrected, "It's only until recently that business really thrived for lacol birds. In the less hotter winter seasons, people come from all over to get a glimpse at the two kooky canaries running those studios. Means Conductor gets some extra business running his train too, he likes to say more budget for his movies come from it."

"Wow. Really?" So this place was some kind of famous spot because of this Mr. Grooves and Conductor, whoever they might be. From what she's heard of them so far, they seemed really nice supporting local business and bringing in so many customers. And she had no reason to not trust Cookie so far. A smile graced her face when he spotted the girls run a little ways ahead of them and caught an earful of their giggles. That was until one fell over. It was just a small rock hidden in the sand that she didn't see, but that didn't stop Bow from tripping over it and faceplanting the sand, knocking up some sand in her crash. Poppy and Cookie both gave a small gasp of surprise and Poppy instantly ran over to her, metal tools clanking together on her back. Hattie and Mu had stopped hearing the thump in the sand from behind them at Bow's faceplant and watched as the curly haired girl pushed herself up. Bow laid there unmoving for a few seconds but by the time Poppy got over there to kneel next to her, she had pushed herself up crying a bit with her eyes shut and spitting out more sand from her mouth. Sun hat falling off her head as she did. Two hands grabbed her and turned her around to face the worried face of the red head as she looked her over. "What happened? Are you alright, Sweetheart?"

"My eyes burn!," Bow cried reaching her balled fists up to wipe at her face but was stopped by Poppy pulling them away.

She sighed. "Well don't rub them, you probably just got some dirt in your eyes needin' ta be flushed out." Looking around she spotted an outside water pump fountain like the one her old home hand and without another thought picked up the tiny girl and stood back up. Bow still crying at the stinging and wrapping herself around Poppy's shoulder as she walked. "Oh hush now. All you need is to rinse it out with a lil water and you'll be right as rain!" She carried Bow over to the small pump across the street and pried her off to set the small gal down in front of the Nozzle. "Now I'm going to pump some water out, and I want you to start rinsing out those eyes and mouth of yers. Ok?" Bow sniffed still crying small tears down her face and Poppy grabbed a hold of the pump handle. Pushing n pulling it up and down to summon the water underneath. A garbling sound came from the pipe's inside and with a pop sound, cold water burst out from the pipe and sprayed the small child in the face. Bow jumped in surprise at the sudden cold water on her but sputtered and swiped at her face and the stream of water hitting her. After a few more seconds of it, Poppy stopped and allowed the strong stream to trickle slowly before stopping completely. She watched as Bow turned her cheek the other way and spat out a mouthful of water, coughing and wiping at her face. Now all soaking wet. She rubbed at her eyes for a moment before blinking her eyes open and looking up with red eyes. There we go. Now that she could see, her eyes would be irritated for a lil bit, but it wouldn't be worse than just someone suffering from a bit of hay fever. "There we go. All better."

....Bow sniffed and blinked. Wiping one eye with her hand and looking down at herself, her other hand grabbing her white jacket. "Now I'm all soaked and cold."

"Uh...Yeah." Poppy rubbed her head. "Kinda figured the sun would dry ya out, but I guess I can buy ya a new dress while we're at this here clothin' store.''

"...*sniff* Really?"

"Absolutely." Walking back over, Poppy bent down and repicked Bow up into her arms letting the little girl grab onto her. "We'll get ya a nice pretty dress that'll make you look like a darlin' lil princess!...Well more of a princess than you are already."

Bow smiled again sniffing and Poppy smiled at her...But paused when she heard someone else awing at them from behind and when she turned around there was a pair of old birds on a shady porch right behind them. The old birds were smiling at them from their rocking chairs like what they were seeing was the most precious thing in the world. "It's so nice to see such a responsible and caring young mother these days," one of them spoke smiling widely, "Your daughter looks like a darling little one."

......Poppy blinked. "Mother? Who me?" She pointed at herself with her free hand before shaking her head. "O-Oh! No, no! I'm not her mother! I'm just watching her for someone I know!"

"Oh, that's too bad. You would make a lovely mother for the dear."

Poppy chuckled nervously but Bow seemed to be looking at her with a strange look. "My...Mother?"

Giving a small thanks Poppy quickly excused herself from the watching eyes of the old birds and back over to Cookie who was waiting for them with the other two children. Wiping dust from the pretty sunhat and looking up at the soaked child in her arms. "Well. I can see we'll be needing to take care of that while we're in there too."

Poppy gave another nervous chuckle but grabbed the sun hat, handing it back to Bow who gladly plopped it back onto her head. Well, guess they weren't going to wait on getting this lil gal some dry clothing. Following Cookie the rest of the way there, they all came across possibly the girliest lookin' store Poppy had ever seen. It was all painted pink and white and had flowers in window pots. Well seeing those cute lil things made her smile at least, she always loved flowers. Above a sign was nailed above the door reading Mrs. Talon's Fabric Shoppe. Guess they were going in when Cookie walked right on up without a second thought so naturally Poppy and the children followed suit. A bell above the door rang like before and thank PECK it was another building big enough she didn't have to crawl through to get there. Upon entering it was the same pink and white themed as the outside. Along the walls was shelves upon shelves of fabric, balls of yarn and threads of all colors, sewing machines for sail along with smaller kits, and anything else one would need for making clothes. Such as buttons, sequins, patches, and books of patterns or techniques. Poppy noticed there was also a giant pink curtain in the back and next to that was a rack of already made dresses with a sign that said 'discount bin half off'. In the very front of the store was a white counter, and a lady owl wearing a floral dress with glasses that made her eyes look too big for her face, but unlike the first owl this cashier welcomed them all with a smile and friendly voice.

"Good Evening, Customers! Welcome to Mrs. Talons! Here we tailor to creatures large and small," she replied in a high pitched tone, "How may I-...I-I..." Her impossibly large eyes went wide seeing the crew of five girls waltz in as Poppy closed the door shut with her foot. "I-....I DON'T BELEIVE IT!!" She suddenly squealed startling the red head woman into almost dropping Bow and blinking at the pig like squeal before the owl lady leaned over the counter looking at Cookie. "I DON'T PECKING BELIEVE IT!! THE COOKING CAT IS IN MY BOSS'S STORE!! M-Ma'am I'm your b-biggest fans! My owlets love your deep fried worm and rice recipe!" Cookie didn't even seem fazed as she chuckled and waved. Making the more owl all the more nervous at having the cat celebity in her store. "H-How may I help you, Ms. Cat?"

"Please. Call me Cookie." Cookie pointed at Poppy still holding Bow in her arms. "We got a youngin' who's in need of some dry clothes and a fashion emergency if I say so myself."

The owl looked up at the two humans adjusting her glasses and frowning at Bow's soaked clothes and the absolutely ghastly amount of tacky lace and fake rubies studded to the collar of Poppy's dark blue dress. Not a good mix, it looked like she was a desperate rich lady trying to play the part of princess. "Oh...I certainly see why. Well, unfortunately with my boss away currently working on a large order for Mr. Grooves, I can't offer anything except for the designs left out from last year's tourism season." She gestured a wing over towards the bargain bin and Cookie slightly frowned at the limited suppy.

"Are you sure you can't make one?"

The owl shook her head. "Sorry, Ma'am. For you I would in a heartbeat, but I'm just the cashier. I ring people out and offer assistance if the customer has questions. The only tailors are my boss and her assistant and they're already away on a giant order call. But if you're interested we do provide everything you need to sew yourself."

"That won't be needed," Poppy cut in slowly lowering Bow to the ground and standing back up and walking to the bargain rack, "I ain't the kind of picky prissy gal a lot of folks I knew was." Walking up right to the rack she skimmed through the options of dresses available and to be honest most were plain day to day dresses without any patterns, but that suited her just fine. She wasn't real picky when it came to clothing as long as it fit ok and it didn't look like the ghastly thing she was wearing so she just grabbed a few random dresses off the bargain pile that was the same size she was wearing. A plain all pink and green one. One that was all white with purple flowers all over it. Another green one with a picture of a kitty cat in the middle of it. And just a purple one with some kind of black vine pattern. Looking back up, she noticed Cookie writing on a piece of paper as the owl excitedly watched, and she gave another small squeal when Cookie handed whatever it was over to her. How strange. Two of the girls were boredly bouncing some yarn balls...Where was- She got her answer when Bow pushed past her and reached up to rummage of her own accord, after a moment pulling out the only thing they seemed to have in a child's size. A bright orange dress with a single daisy on it's front. Her cringe made Poppy chuckle a bit and reach down to pat her head. "Hey. May not be the most pretty, but it's just til we get back an' then you can wear anything ya want. Alright?"

She didn't look happy but relented. "Fine."

"That's my girl!" She gave bow a smile as the little girl blinked and gave Poppy a confused look as she walked to the counter dresses in her arms.

"Your girl?"

Well, the clothes were bought. Which equaled up to about fourty six pons for all of the dresses including Bow's which she changed into behind the curtain. She was dry now but she didn't look like it stomping out and staring at her clothes in disgust. Well with two more bags in hand, one for her new dresses and one for Bow's, they excited the store and the girls were glad to not be coped up in there anymore except for Bow who followed the first two with crossed arms as the adults followed out.

"Come back anytime! Thank you for your purchase!," the cashier called out behind them and Cookie waved back.

"Ya seem to be well known, Huh?," Poppy asked the cat and Cookie shrugged.

"Lots of folks enjoy my work. Who am I to complain?"

"Touche." Poppy sucked in a deep breath and looked out into the world around them with a smile. "Man it's good to see ground that ain't littered with ghosts! But I wish it wasn't so hot!"

"Well this is a desert." Cookie smiled at Hattie chasing Mu around the two using Bow in the middle as a barrier from each other. "But they don't seem to have a problem with playin' anyhwere."

Poppy shrugged. "Doesn't surprise me with what I've seen. But I am surprised they aren't thirsty."

Cookie turned to her. "Why? Are you?"

"Well. A lil bit. When's the next ride back to the moon again?"

"Uh...Well I believe it's just a lil bit past noon, ya'll have to wait for the night train at ten o' clock."

Poppy snapped her head to her with a surprised face. "Wha- THAT LATE?"

"Well it IS the night train for a reason Sugar. But tell ya what, I'll treat ya'll to some real good food at the Jukebox cafe while ya wait." She started stepping towards somewhere else and Poppy slowly followed after.

"Oh no. You don't have to. It's alright."

"And let you eat nothing but a cheese wheel and apples?," Cookie shook her head, "Oh no, no. That wouldn't do at all."

"Ain't there a market or tradin' post with food in these here parts?," Poppy asked back making Cookie chuckle nervously.

"Well....Yes. B-But since everyone in town are actually birds, they don't really sell food catering to humans or many other species except for coffee and what's served in the cafe's since those places get to see more of a diversity especially when tourism comes a callin'. Otherwise it's bird seed, worms, insects, some fruit, and anything else birds eat. Most of what else they get is ordered from the city a couple miles away or mafia town. "

"Oh great. Guess it's cheese and apples for supper tonight then." Her stomach growled and she placed a hand to it shyly making Cookie chuckle.

"Don't worry. I'll send ya'll home with some left overs from mah kitchen set at the-...." Poppy suddenly stopped mid step body completely frozen as if she was paused in the middle of a movie and Poppy almost stepped on her tail stopping just in time. Cookie suddenly grabbed her fuzzy cheeks with a frown. "Oh no!"

"What's wrong?"

"I left my handbag at my set in the studios! My bird passport and wallet's in there, it let's me get free supplies from the cafe with the reward points."

"So...That means?"

"We're going to have to make a pit stop at the studios before anyone eats."

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sunshine City: Three

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read/reblogged/commented on the last chapter. You are all lovely and deserve a Whiskey of your own. This chapter still revolves around the plot of the film, so if you have any questions just let me know! I hope this little story can make you smile at least for a moment. My asks and DMs are always open.

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 5.7k

Rating For This Chapter: T for guns, blood, injuries

Catch up on the Prologue, Chapters One, and Two here!

Y/N sat at the bar and ordered a cranberry juice.

Butterfly Guy was sitting with Eggsy, Whiskey, and a guy who insisted on being called Merlin in a booth near the window.

“Rough day, sugar?” Paula the bartender asked as she set down the cloudy glass filled with purple-red juice.

“Rough couple of days,” she muttered and handed over a handful of crumpled bills that Paula methodically straightened out before placing them in the till. Paula was basically an agent in her own right. She’d been part of the bar for nearly twenty years and since only Statesmen drank here and knew of its existence, they spoke freely about their work. She probably knew more classified intel than some junior agents.

“You sure I can’t get you anything stronger?” She asked, her bleach blonde hair swiping over her shoulders. “Something with a little more oomph?”

“Just the cranberry juice for now.” She smiled and sipped on the too-bitter drink and resisted puckering her lips at the taste. “But thank you.”

Paula nodded and cast a glance at the table where the agents sat. “You know, Whiskey keeps lookin’ over here.”

She ignored the twisting in her stomach and took a large gulp. “ ‘s just post-mission jitters.”

“Uh-huh,” Paula said with a roll of her eyes. “Sure. When a handsome man looks at me like that…” she drifted off with a raise of her eyebrows.

(But she wouldn’t deny that she noticed Whiskey looking at her a little more often. When they met up after she implanted the tracker in Clara, she noticed Whiskey kept turning away every so often, a hand tucked in his front pocket. It was a common gesture used by men to hide an erection, she knew that—she just didn’t believe he would have one at that moment. They were in the middle of a mission. There was no way he was hiding a boner. But the thought was fun.)

Thankfully, Agent Moonshine started hollering and she sighed into her drink and got up from her barstool and walked behind the bar.

Paula was watching the scene unfold like she hadn’t watched a million bar fights before and looked ready to piss herself. Sunny patted her on the shoulder and signaled for her to hide in the little cubby beneath the register.

The Butterfly Guy quickly made a fool of himself, trying to teach Moonshine and his buddies some manners and she leaned against the sticky bar to watch as Whiskey stood from his seat. It wasn’t the first time she would watch Whiskey kick Moonshine’s ass but it was always fun to witness.

And those tight jeans did wonders for his butt.

While she would never understand his affinity for his lasso or his whip, it was nice to watch him work (and to see Moonshine bleed a little).

As he finished, Moonshine and his hangers-on all unconscious or bleeding enough to keep them still, Whiskey adjusted his hat and let out a whistle. “I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.”

She snorted and finished her drink as Paula slowly came out from the cubby and gaped at the mess. “It looks like a tornado came through here, boss. I think you owe Paula another window.”

“And new glasses!” Paula said with a frown.

She patted Paula’s shoulder again with a promise that the window would be fixed within a handful of hours as the televisions switched from the football game and were overtaken by a wash of yellow and red with an obnoxious chime.

A woman draped in a horrendous yellow outfit with fiery red hair soon filled the screens. “Mr. President, my name is Poppy Adams. I believe the UN has no teeth. So I've selected you, as leader of the free world, to receive this communication. And I invite you to begin negotiations on the largest scale hostage situation in history. A few weeks ago, an engineered virus was released and contained in all varieties of my product: cannabis, cocaine, heroin, opium, ecstasy, and crystal meth.” Each line item popped up on the screen in a pretty font. Cap looked over to see Whiskey already looking at her, lips pulled into a frown. “Some of you are already infected. And this is what you can expect in the coming days. After a brief incubation period, victims present with stage one symptoms: a blue rash. Next, second stage symptoms appear: mania, as the virus enters the brain. Very distressing to the victim and those around them. Stage three: paralysis. Muscles enter a state of catastrophic seizure. And once the muscles of the thorax become affected, breathing becomes impossible.” She watched as one new victim after another was revealed on the screen until blood spurted out of the last man’s eyes and nose, dead for millions to witness. “This leads to a very nasty death within 12 hours. But I have good news to the millions already affected. It doesn't have to be this way. I have an antidote.” Poppy held up a clear vial filled with an amber liquid—and Elton John behind another glass wall.

“What have you done to me, you fucking bitch?” God bless Elton John.

Undeterred by Elton John’s outburst, Poppy continued, “100% effective and ready to ship out worldwide at a moment's notice. I will do this if the following conditions are met. First, you agree to end the war on drugs, once and for all. All classes of substance are legalized paving the way to a new marketplace in which sales are regulated and taxed just like alcohol. And second, my colleagues and I receive full legal immunity. Meet my terms. I look forward to helping you keep our beloved country great, boosting our ailing economy, and easing spending on law enforcement. Or continue this blinkered, outmoded, and, frankly, disastrous exercise in prohibition, and live with blood on your hands. Save lives. Legalize.”

The broadcast ended and the televisions screens quickly flipped back to the football game. Whiskey was at her side in a blink of an eye. His hand brushed down her back. “We gotta talk to Champ, Sunny.”

And that was how she found herself bundled in winter gear on an Italian mountainside. Clara had called Charlie, and thanks to the tracking device she had implanted at Glastonbury, they were able to pick up the conversation. Charlie told Clara (who was now covered in the blue rash) to meet him at the ski resort they’d visited last year so he could give her the antidote. The tracking device could pinpoint their exact location and everyone was betting that the Italian resort was one of the storehouses for the antidote.

But she was also wondering, once again, why she found Whiskey attractive. He was in a terrible blue and white snowsuit that had to have been made in the 1970s. And he still refused to take off his damned cowboy hat. She appreciated the dedication to his aesthetic but it still seemed…ridiculous.

And he’d been grating on her last nerve on the flight over.

Ginger had buzzed in and suggested that Cap be the one to retrieve the antidote because only Clara would recognize her as opposed to Charlie possibly recognizing Eggsy or Butterfly Man (who she was told to call either Galahad or Harry). Whiskey then laughed—loudly—and stated plainly that he would be planning the mission and Ginger should stick to her computers and gadgets. “It isn’t like ya have any experience in the field.”

She really thought about murdering her boss for the rest of the flight. Her plots to kill him only got more creative when he told her to stay at the safe-house when they landed.

She was tired. She was angry.

And that was probably why she finally snapped. “If you didn’t want me to come along, you could have just told Champ. God knows you don’t listen to anyone else.” She hefted her bag filled with her own weapons and ammo higher onto her shoulder and turned away from him, readying to hike up toward the house and stew in her lonesome until the three men returned—hopefully with the antidote in hand.

But his hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop before she could get very far. “That ain’t fair, Sunny.”

She pulled out of his grip with a poorly hidden snarl. “No. You’re not fair. To me. To Ginger. All because of some bullshit you think is right.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. I’ve been in this game a long time-”

“And I’ve been in it longer-”

“-and I can take care of myself. What you’re doing to Ginger is so fucking backwards I’m surprised you can see straight,” she hissed it out like a curse. “I’m tired, Whiskey. I’m so tired of watching her jump through hoops trying to get you to notice that she could outperform half the agents in the field and you want her stuck behind the desk until she dies. I’m tired of you thinking you know best in the field. Why do you even request me to go with you if you’re going to undermine me every step of the way?”

Whiskey’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Her shoulders slumped. Harry and Eggsy both looked like they were very interested in the calibrations of their earpieces and not listening to what just happened. God this whole situation was pathetic. They were trying to save the world and she was waffling between yearning and rage for her stupid boss. She trudged away in the snow toward the safe house and barely heard Whiskey say, “what are you lookin’ at, Butterfly Guy?”

But she continued on, up the mountain and found the small shack of a house and swept the perimeter before settling in. She comm’ed in only to say she reached the safe house. Eggsy responded cheerfully but she didn’t respond when Whiskey also chimed in with a, “good work, Sunny.”

Time ticked by.

There was a commotion on the other end of the comm line when Butterfly Guy wouldn’t respond—and then all she heard was Eggsy and Whiskey screaming. She rolled her eyes. They were so dramatic. But soon, the trio was making their way toward the safe-house and she didn’t bother to open the door when she heard them outside. They all hobbled in, mid-argument.

Eggsy pulled out a small vial and showed it to her with a smile she had to reciprocate. “You got it.”

“We did. A little dicey—Charlie recognized me.”

She glanced at Whiskey who frowned in return. It didn’t matter. Ginger had been right and now he knew it.

“Can I see it, kid?” Whiskey asked with his hand outstretched as he walked toward them. But then his dark eyes tracked to the window and widened. “Get down!” Whiskey all but tackled both Eggsy and her to the dusty ground of the house as bullets started to fly. Glass shattered. Wood splintered.

She watched, unable to do anything from her pinned position, as the small vial was all but knocked from Eggsy’s hand and shattered on the ground.

“You fucking dickhead!” Eggsy hollered as he scrambled out from under Whiskey to look over the spilled antidote, almost uncaring of the bullets whizzing by.

“Fuck you, I just saved your life!” Whiskey retorted.

“Yeah, and cost millions of people theirs!”

She had to slap at Whiskey’s thigh to get him to move off her and she rolled off into the corner when he did. The rain of bullets stopped for a moment and she looked out the window. “They’re reloading.”

Whiskey nodded. “All right, I'll fix their wagons. Cover me, boys!” And then he all but bolted out of the house, guns blazing.

With a roll of her eyes, ignoring how Whiskey had told the ‘boys’ to cover him, she followed suit and ran out into the snow, pulling her guns out from their holsters. The shootout was nothing she hadn’t seen before and, while she didn’t have all the flair most of the Statesmen agents had, she could mow down people just as efficiently. (The acrobatics the Statesmen and Kingsman agents seemed so fond of really just seemed…excessive.)

Whiskey went through the left flank so she went through the unlucky men on the right.

It was easy pickings, really. Despite the heavy artillery and uneven numbers, it was almost too simple of a gunfight. But the adrenaline rush was nice. It had been too long since she had felt her heart beat this fast. Bullets were flying by her head as she dove behind a tree and then twisted to shoot down the other man. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Whiskey pull out his electric lasso and then cut a man in half who came out with a knife.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she muttered as she stood, lowering her guns and quietly thankful that Whiskey wasn’t hurt.

There was a single gunshot and she froze. A familiar cold crept up her torso and one last man stepped out from the tree line with his gun raised right in her direction. The barrel smoked. But his eyes were wide like he couldn’t quite understand that he’d actually managed to shoot her. With a snarl, she pulled her guns up again and fired twice, painting the trees and snow behind him in a spattering of red.

“Sunny!” Whiskey yelled as he spotted her.

She pressed a hand to her stomach and felt the terrible, wet warmth soak her palm. She holstered her guns again and stepped out to look at him, turning ever so slightly to hide the blossoming red from him. “We’re good.”

“You should’ve stayed in the house.”

“You needed back up!” She said, marching toward the house despite feeling her legs shake. Pressing against the wound only made bile rise in her throat.

“The kid and Butterfly Guy-”

“It’s over, boss. Let’s just-”

Whiskey suddenly grabbed at her waist and all but threw her into the house and she nearly lost her footing. She barely had time to recognize the pain suddenly roaring through her system as the adrenaline started to fade.

“Troop carrier coming in. And I’m out of ammo—whaddya got?” He asked, pointedly looking at Eggsy and Harry.

But they were both looking at Whiskey’s hand.

He slowly raised it to his face and saw it covered in blood. His head snapped to the side to look at her. “Sunny?”

Her knees finally buckled and she hit the weathered wood. She shakily caught herself with her other hand, feeling blood slip between her fingers. She coughed and watched as blood splattered against the wood.

“They’ve got Gatling guns!”

Whiskey was yelling. Bullets whizzed by. And the beat of her heart started to drown out everything else.

“Harry, no!” She barely heard Eggsy shout.

And then, in her quickly-hazing vision, she watched Whiskey’s body crumple to the floor beside hers. She reached out a bloody hand toward him without thinking, pressing crimson-colored fingers against his face as if that would stop the bleeding.

“He broke the vial on purpose, Eggsy. If we made it out of here, he was gonna kill us both!”

The world went dark.  

                                                     **

The sterile scent of HQ’s medical wing was a welcoming aroma as her eyes opened.

“There you are.” Ginger leaned over her with a soft smile. “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.”

“No pain?” She asked as she helped Cap sit up slowly.

“A bit tender—but I know what feeling shot in the chest feels like so I would prefer this.” She pulled at the bland, cotton-blend shirt she was dressed in and saw her stomach covered in a bit of gauze and tape. Despite Ginger telling her not to, she pulled at the coverings to reveal the mostly-healed bullet wound and then pushed back into the pillows. It looked like it had already been healing for weeks instead of a day or two. Statesmen truly knew how to patch someone up. But then a thought struck her. “Where’s Whiskey?”

And Ginger’s soft, answering smile calmed her suddenly clenching heart. “He’s in the next room over, Cap. He’ll wake up soon. Eggsy gave him the Alpha Gel and it worked like it was supposed to.”

She pushed out a long breath through her nose and nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

Ginger’s watch beeped. She looked at the small screen and sighed. “I will be back. Don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I promise nothing.”

Ginger chuckled, having heard that answer many times before, and let herself out of the room. 

She let herself stew for a moment (it was really about an hour). Her life had really gone off the rails since Vegas. It was one thing to secretly harbor amorous thoughts about your boss. It was another to scream at him, get shot, and then see him get shot after seeing him (possibly) thwart any efforts to get the antidote and save millions of people. And she had a chance to say something to Ginger. But she didn’t.

Hm.

She carefully slid off the bed and winced when a bolt of pain zig-zagged through her body as her feet touched the cold floor. Shuffling over to the door, she peered out into the hallway and then stepped out. Whiskey’s holding room was only a few footsteps away.

Should she go in? But then what would she say?

Should she just go back to her room and pretend she was unconscious the entire time and remembered exactly nothing from Italy? But what was she trying to forget anyway?

But, thankfully, Eggsy found her in the middle of the hall and broke her rambling thoughts. He pocketed his phone and looked a bit worried as he noticed her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Better than I should be after being shot. You?”

He started to nod but then shook his head. “My girlfriend…she, uh, she’s got the blue rash.” He rubbed at his forehead.

“You care about her. Probably more than you should, right?” That was easy to see. Eggsy was a good kid, probably a little too easy to read. “Especially in this line of work.”

“You get it—Kingsmen aren’t allowed to have attachments. And I…” he tried to grasp at the words he needed, “love her.”

“Statesmen doesn’t have that rule. Probably because we’re very bad at following any sort of guideline anyway.” She shrugged and regretted the movement as it pulled at her wound. “But that means you’ve got less than 12 hours. You got a plan?”

Eggsy quickly explained that they had been able to trace Poppy’s location to Cambodia and they were heading out there now. But his eyes quickly widened as he realized he had just revealed a plan to a potentially dangerous adversary.

“Relax, Eggsy. I’m not the one you shot in the head.” She waved him on. “Go. Save the world. Look out for landmines.”

“Landmines?” Eggsy parroted, face scrunching into a confused frown.

“If Poppy’s as crazy as I think she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has nonsense like that. Who knows? Maybe she has a fleet of man-eating robots, too.”

“What are you on about?”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen some stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled and started to walk away. “You should come to London when this is all over. I’ll get you a drink!”

She smiled a bit and watched him disappear around a corner before her eyes once again drifted toward Whiskey’s door. “…fuck.” Against her better judgement, she walked up and let the door glide open without a sound. The room was quiet. Whiskey was motionless on the bed, face still covered by the machine to help the Alpha Gel finish its work. His vitals were steady, displayed on large screens across the wall.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

She slipped gingerly into a chair near the bed and resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hand. He just looked so…vulnerable. It was so unlike him. An angry, terrible twisting pulled at her chest. “I’m not sorry I yelled at you, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was talking to him but the words kept coming anyway. “You need to let Ginger out in the field. She’d be a better agent than me. I don’t know why you’re… I don’t understand you at all, actually. I wish I did, I think. I wish I could understand you and why you do things and say things. I wish I could understand why you make me feel so stupid.”

Maybe being this close to death—again—was making her sentimental. Or maybe the pain medication was making her crazy.

Probably the second option. Hopefully, anyway.

The door opened again and Ginger stepped in. “I knew I’d find you in here.”

“How’d you figure that?”

Ginger gave her a look but didn’t answer. “It is about time we wake him up. You remember how it’s like, right?”

She nodded. She had heard stories about how most agents needed a ‘reminder’ of a traumatic event to bring them back to the present and how their minds could be a bit foggy for a few days after, but she had never seen it in person. But she basically knew what to except--right? 

With a flip of a few switches, the machine receded and Whiskey’s eyes opened. He was up and off the bed with a spring in his gait that had her laughing as he gave some terrible pick-up line to Ginger. But the laugh drew his attention and his body went rigid as his eyes landed on her. “Sunny.”

She felt tension she didn’t realize she was holding leech from her shoulders as he smiled at her. “Hey, boss.”

Ginger tucked something back in her pocket and her smile seemed to reach her ears. “I’ll leave you two…alone. But I’m just outside if you need anything.” She then scurried out and left her alone with Whiskey and her hammering heart.

“Sunshine.” The new nickname was all but crushing to her heart, caving in her chest.

She waved him back to the bed and told him to rest before she curled her fingers around his hand. It was warm and calloused and, as cliché as it sounded, seemed to fit hers perfectly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot in the head.”

She almost laughed and her other hand carefully pushed his still-impeccably styled hair away from the bandage covering a small bit of his temple. “Yeah. You look great for a dead man, though.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” But he said it with a smile and squeezed her hand. “Say it again.”

“You look great.” And her smile grew, heart a little lighter.

He huffed out a laugh but then a long silence stretched between them. She looked away from his dark eyes but didn’t pull her hand away from his, fearing he’d disappear if she did.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sunshine?” He squeezed at her hand until she looked at him again.

“I’m okay. They fixed me up just fine. A new scar for the collection.”

His smile slowly dropped and he placed his other hand over hers, too. “I saw you drop. You were bleedin’ out and I-”

“I saw you get shot, too, you know. Butterfly Guy has an interesting way of showing he doesn’t trust someone.” She shook the thought away. Harry’s brain was scrambled, too. “I’m just happy you’re okay. Your brain might feel a bit funny for a day or two, but I’ll be here.”  

“Where are they now? The Brits?”

“They’re on their way to Cambodia. They think they’ve found Poppy’s base.”

Whiskey all but yanked his hands from hers and threw his legs over the side of the bed before standing on his long legs. She quickly stood too, chair clattering backward. “We’ve gotta go. Tell Ginger to get the Silver Pony on the runway.” He started toward the door before she grabbed at his arm.

“Boss, c’mon. You need to rest-”

“I need to make sure that bitch doesn’t get what she wants.”

She was scrambling then, hands pawing up his arm to grasp at his face. Her heart was in her throat as she looked at him. His dark eyes looked so cold. Unfocused. She knew the Alpha Gel could scramble someone’s brain as it physically repaired it, pushing them into old habits and thoughts and fears. She knew Whiskey wasn’t thinking right at the moment—no matter how soft he had been with her moments ago, this wasn’t her Whiskey. Her mouth went dry. Thoughts raced by as the pit she had felt growing in her stomach expanded to an abyss. She knew what he’d been through. The death of his wife at the hands of some coked-out druggies was an open secret. And she knew her own grief, dealt with it in her own way—not all of it healthy, she knew. But she had to try. She knew the look of a man who wanted vengeance no matter the cost—and, right now, the cost was millions of lives. “Do you know why I don’t drink?”

“We don’t have time for this,” he said as he pulled out of her grip.

“Drunk driver plowed into my dad’s car. I was at the local pool with some friends and Dad piled everyone in to pick me up so we could get ice cream after. They never made it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you think I hold it against everyone who likes to put a little something extra in their coffee? Likes to have a little liquid courage to talk to the cute guy across the bar?”

Whiskey’s face twisted and his eyes seemed to dilate before he scrunched them shut. A shaking hand pushed through his hair.

“I work at a distillery for a man named Whiskey.”

Another silence stretched between them. She would swear he could hear her heartbeat in the quiet of the room.

A careful hand reached out to touch his wrist, too afraid to do much else. “Stay,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

And his eyes finally opened.

                                                        **

Champ smiled and congratulated them on a job well done. It was a week since the entire Golden Circle situation had been handled. Tequila was well. Whiskey’s mind was clear. And their profits had never been higher.

Merlin, Harry, and Eggsy were standing at the end of the table and each held a glass of amber liquid as everyone raised a toast. Whiskey was sitting across from his Sunny, golden glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He probably should have been listening to what was Champ was saying but all he could see was how she licked her lips after taking a sip of her cranberry juice.

Statesmen, knowing an ally when they saw one, had purchased a distillery in Scotland. It was the perfect guise to help Kingsman rebuild and keep their money looking “clean.” Yes, he should have listened.

Because the Kid opened his mouth and said Kingsman needed more agents.

“I think Ginger would be a great Kingsman,” Sunny said with a smile.

Ginger, tucked into a corner a drink of her own, smiled in return. “I…”

“Agreed,” Whiskey heard himself saying. And he quickly realized that he meant it. 

Ginger’s eyes went wide and she nearly sloshed the entirety of her drink across her shirt.

Champ laughed. “Alrighty then. Ginger Ale, well, I guess you’ll get a new code name, won’t ya?”

But the Kid’s smile widened. “And I was thinking Cap could come, too.” He turned to her and shrugged a shoulder. “Whaddya say, Cap? I’ll show you the real London.”

Whiskey looked at her, feeling like someone had shoved their fist down his throat. Don’t go. Don’t leave.

“I always wanted to be a knight of the round table.”

The men at the end of the table cheered again and Ginger walked over to knock their glasses together.

And while everyone continued to pat themselves on the back for completing the mission, all he could feel was cold.

The revelry eventually died down and Whiskey found himself the last one seated at the table. Everyone else filtered out to ready for the next mission—or the move to London. It was just him and Champ. The older man plopped down in the seat beside him and refilled his empty glass.

“London is only a few hours by plane from New York.”

He took a long pull from his glass.

“I’ve never known you to wait for something you wanted, Whiskey. But sure seemed to drag your ass on this one.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Champ?” He finally asked after another large gulp of alcohol.

But Champ just shook his head with a throaty chuckle. “You two are a mess.”

                                                     **

Royal weddings were…an event, she was finding.

After nearly losing Princess Tilde to the Golden Circle, Eggsy actually proposed. And with Harry now known as Arthur and presiding over Kingsman, the rules changed. Attachments were allowed. And because Tilde knew his fellow Kingsman were like Eggsy’s family, they were invited to the wedding. A handful of Statesmen, too. It had been a year since Poppy’s demise in Cambodia and the world was (mostly) at peace. Kingsman managed to salvage quite a bit from the wreckage of their former bases and Statesmen funded the rest of their necessary rebuilds. It was slow-going, and a handful of new agents were still finding their footing after graduating from the selection process.

“Please tell me Tequila is not wearing jeans,” she muttered.

Ginger, now known as Agent Percival, rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile as she spotted the jean-clad man amid the rest of the American crowd. “I could but that would be a lie.” She paused. “But Whiskey certainly dressed for the occasion.”

She leaned forward just the slightest bit to see Whiskey dressed in a fine tuxedo. “Is that one of ours?”

Ginger hummed. “He came in a few days ago for a fitting.”

She swallowed the saliva filling her mouth and turned back to watch Eggsy nervously fidget with his cufflinks at the end of the aisle. “Looks good.”

The ceremony finished after the vows and a bit of perfunctory reading and singing before the guests were all chauffeured over to the reception space at the royal palace. “You know, Merlin told me that you and Whiskey are quite fond of using emojis in your emails,” Ginger said as dinner was cleared away and dessert started to be served. 

Her glass of water nearly slipped from her grip as embarrassment washed over her. “I was told those were private.”

“Nothing’s private in our line of work,” Ginger said with a pat to her hand. “But you haven’t really explained what is going on between you two.”

She rubbed at her temples. How could she possibly explain that she knew Whiskey, while his brain was still scrambled, wanted to let everyone infected with the Blue Rash die? How could she explain that she, despite all that, missed his smile and stupid mustache? Missed how he had terrible pick-up lines that always made her roll her eyes? Missed how she always seemed a little lighter whenever he would waltz into her office in New York?

Their constant contact devolved away from work and missions and into their private lives. He would ask after Bela and she would ask him to tell her about the view from his office window. It was now a strange sort of friendship that she treasured and protected despite how they hadn’t seen each other in person in over a year. She had taken the position at Kingsman, took the code name Agent Mordred, moved to London. It should have been a clean break. She could have kept their communications purely professional. But she didn’t. She just couldn’t truly let him go.

But on the outside, she shrugged as her hands dropped away from her face.

“It looks like I’ll be able to see for myself because he’s on his way over here.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Ginger’s smug tone and, sure enough, Whiskey was on his way over, walking through the dancing crowd and wandering guests, right toward their table.

“But oh no. Would you look at that, I need more champagne.” Ginger then scampered off and left her alone.

Whiskey easily took Ginger’s vacated seat and smiled at her. “Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hey, bos-Whiskey.”

He chuckled at her slip. His head tilted to the side as he looked at her, eyes trailing down her form and she resisted a shiver like a teenaged girl but was silently thankful for the designer dress that fit her like a glove in a soft blue silk. “You look good.”

“You too.” And he did. The tuxedo was impeccably cut and the darkest black. A pristine white shirt was held back with a matching cummerbund and a black bowtie was slightly crooked around his neck. She reached out and straightened it.

He reached up to keep her hand pressed against his chest with a small smile. “I miss you.” It was whispered like a secret.

“We talk every day.” But she didn’t pull her hand away.

“ ‘s not the same and you know it.” He squeezed her hand. “Dance with me?” Wordlessly, he led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her close.

His expensive cologne made her mind swim but she resisted the urge to rest her cheek against his shoulder despite every nerve in her body telling her to do so. The music was slow, soft, and romantic. The lighting was low and accentuated by flickering candles that danced across the golden walls of the royal ballroom. If she could let herself remember anything—it would be this moment. Held in the arms of the man she loved even if it was just for a tiny sliver of time.

“I never thanked you, you know.”

“For what?”

“Saving me. My head was a mess—even before Butterfly Guy put a bullet in it. It took me a while but I…” He shook his head. “You’ve given me a second chance.”

She cocked her head to the side with a smile. “To save the world?”

Whiskey’s smile was small and his cheeks reddened the slightest bit but his dark eyes never left her face. His grip on her hand and waist tightened the slightest bit. “A second chance at everything.”

She chuckled and ignored how her chest tightened. Reading into it would only make it hurt.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm​ @honestlystop​ @paryl​ @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 10/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: Everything from the previous chapter applies as far as the Walsh business is concerned. Other than that, a very tame chapter. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: So, this is the last main chapter. There is an epilogue which I will post on Sunday, and then this grand adventure will be wrapped up! Thanks for being with me on this ride and for any comments, reblogs, and likes. I’m thankful beyond words. <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 10: Snowshine

Walsh still looks exactly the same as the last time she was here. Emma tries her best to keep her stomach calm when all she wants to do is throw up on his face, projecting an outward cool that she doesn’t feel as he enters the room and looks up at her. 

“What the - Emma? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Taking back what’s rightfully mine,” Emma says, gesturing to the box of pictures sitting on the bed beside her.

“Oh no, sweetheart. I would hardly call all of those yours.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, asshole.”

Through all of this, James has been watching a progress bar load on the computer screen. With a noise of victory, he looks back to her.

“There you go, Emma. All done.”

“You brought David with you? Mr. Wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly?”

“Oh, buddy, believe me. You’re gonna wish I was David by the end of this. Good job hosting a whole website with a bunch of non-consensual photos on it. But shame on you for making it so easy to break into.”

“You have another brother?”

“Didn’t I ever tell you that David was an identical twin?”

At the little jingle that plays from the desk, he tries to push James out of the way. “What did you do to my computer?”

“Gave it a little tune up,” James tells him, crossing his arms with pride as a little unicorn marches into the center of the screen. 

All three of them watch with rapt attention as the unicorn stands and waves, before squatting. 

“Oh my god,” Emma says, bursting out in laughter as the unicorn defecates in the shape of an artfully written “fuck you” in rainbow colors. 

After a couple seconds, the whole thing emits a screeching noise and shuts off with a loud pop. 

“All your buddies that subscribed to your email list got something pretty similar. I mean, I don’t know if they’ll all open it but with the heading ‘Check out the brand new section!’ I’m willing to bet a lot of dudes are about to lose their computers.”

Walsh finally makes it around James, desperately trying to turn on his computer but nothing happens when he hits the button. “All of my business files were on there.”

“You kept all your shit on your personal computer? Wow. You’re even dumber than I thought.” James turns towards Emma on the tail of that thought. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Emma responds, picking up the box of photographs and handing it over to James. They manage to make it out of the bedroom before Walsh must come to his senses, and he’s after them immediately. 

His hand closes around Emma’s arm, and she spins around. On instinct, Emma swings as she breaks the hold. And while James misses taking a snapshot of that hit, he doesn’t miss the one where Emma knees him in the nuts hard enough to bring him to his knees. 

“I have the perfect new image for the welcome screen on his trash web page,” James says as Emma backs away. He holds the phone out for her to see and she just barely stops herself from cracking up. “Here, take this. I’ll be right behind you.” He hands over the box, gently ushering her towards the door. 

She doesn’t go far, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear what James has to say to Walsh. 

“Here’s the deal, you Wizard of Oz-looking monkey piece of shit. All of the accounts for that website are completely wiped out. All that money you made off of people like my sister? That money is so far offshore that you’ll never be able to trace it ever again. Got it?”

“I’ll call the cops,” Walsh says weakly.

“You won’t. You have no evidence. And if you try to do that, or ever try to do this again, I will screw up your whole life. We’re in a digital age now, Walsh Whitney Covington. I have everything of yours now. Personal records, social media, bank accounts, the password to your pretentious little LinkedIn page that lists you as a connoisseur of wood, which… come on, man.”

“That’s all illegal,” he whines back, and Emma is mostly just enjoying the snivelling tone in his voice. 

“Yeah? And? I’m sure Emma signed a consent form for those pictures you had posted of her, right? You had her sign away her financial freedoms for the profits on it, too? Don’t ever fuck with our family ever again or you’ll regret it.”

After a couple more minutes of silence, James exits the apartment and gives her a bright smile. 

“Now, that was a fun afternoon with my brother. See? We should bond like this more often,” Emma says as they make their way out of the building and back down to where he parked his car. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. Jack would kill me if she found out this is how I spent my day.”

“You’re still with Jack?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I did marry her, after all. She wanted to wait until she made partner to have a baby and so I switched gears and became a stay-at-home dad after she went back from maternity leave. It helps to have a super lawyer as your wife.”

“None of the words that just came out of your mouth are what I was expecting when I called you about all this.”

“Well, it’s not like I send out Christmas cards with updates on the family,” James says, a little resignation in his voice. 

“Did you really take all the profits from the website?”

“And refunded the money you spent on that settee you bought there back before you started dating.”

Just as he says it, Emma’s phone dings with a notification. There’s a message from her bank saying there’s been a deposit into her account. Looking at the numbers, it’s way more than what she paid for the moderately priced item, but James shrugs. 

“Maybe I got the numbers backwards in my head. Added an extra digit. Whatever. So you mentioned earlier that you have a boyfriend? You haven’t changed your status on Facebook.”

“You follow my social media?”

“Just because I don’t let any of you know about what’s going on in my life doesn’t mean I don’t check up on you.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be at a Christmas party for his company down in New York but someone insisted we do this today.”

He rolls his eyes as he opens his door and climbs into the driver’s seat. No sooner is she seat-belting in when another notification chimes on her phone. 

“Did you seriously just buy me a plane ticket to New York City?”

“I’ll hand all of that over to David,” James says, indicating the box she placed in the backseat. “Besides, he and I are severely overdue for a brotherly chat.” Without another word, he starts a route for the airport. 

“When was the last time you had one of those? When you were fifteen?”

“Something like that. Hey, text him and let him know what’s going on. I should be back there in about an hour but I don’t want him to worry.”

She shakes her head, doing as he asked and sending a message to David. 

As they pull up outside the airport, Emma turns to James. “So, what do I still owe you?”

“Nothing. I got the cash he had stashed in his desk, all the money from his subscription side of the website, and free childcare for the evening after Jack gets home from the office today.”

“Did you tell David that yet?”

“No, but I will. And you know he will - he’s David. Go on,” he tells her when they arrive a short time later. “Enjoy the party.”

“Okay then. And hey, thanks for all your help. I couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Emma?” 

Her door is open and she’s just about to climb out when he says her name. 

“It was nice seeing you,” he admits. 

She leans in quickly and hugs him, noting how familiar yet utterly foreign it feels. “Come visit us sometime,” she tells him as she pulls away. She stands there until his car pulls away and he’s out of view before she walks through the doors. 

Somehow, James managed to get her the perfect flight so she had enough time to get through security, although she looks suspicious as hell going in with nothing but her purse, if you ask her. It’s still considered early when she lands in the city, but with nothing else with her, she has to get party-ready with nothing but the money in her bank account. Thanks to James, there’s a little bit extra to play with in there.

Emma feels like she should be in some cheesy movie montage as she struggles to find everything she’ll need to get ready. Hair and makeup come first, and she’s thankful the salon isn’t far from a decent looking clothing shop or else her charges in cab fares alone would’ve gotten out of hand. 

The dress she finds is perfect - a sleek, black number that doesn’t fit too tight but that doesn’t hide her shape. It’s similar enough to the dress she was planning on wearing to this, the one she borrowed from Ruby as a first-date possibility but put aside in favor of the soft pink she wore instead. She admires the whole look in the mirror as the shop attendant helps her clip tags after Emma pays. She buys two pairs of shoes - a cute pair of cutout ankle boots and a pair of flats - in anticipation of the point in the party where she’ll want to feel her toes again. 

It’s only once she’s fully satisfied with the total picture that she heads out, making sure everything she wore down here is tucked securely into the weekender bag the attendant helped her pick out. 

This time, she opens the rideshare app for a little more comfort, and then it’s off to the Manhattan Penthouse to finally get to where she wants to be.

-x-

Tucking away the knowledge that Robin just gave him, Killian settles into his seat with only a lone glance at the empty chair beside him. He has Henry on his other side, and the rest of the Mills-Hood family in the remaining seats. They’ve not even begun when he receives a sharp, bony elbow to the side. 

“Hey,” Henry whispers as he leans close. “Isn’t that Emma?”

He turns his head, glancing in the direction Henry is pointing, and his breath catches. Sure enough, Emma is standing there in a black dress that surely should be illegal to look so good in. Her hair and makeup are all done, and she’s scanning the room. It takes another elbow to his ribs for Killian to finally stand up, waving over his girlfriend and attempting to wipe the surprise off his face while he does.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re just in time, actually. I’m so… don’t get me wrong, Swan, but I never expected you’d be able to make it.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek and taking a moment to soak up her closeness.

“Yeah, well, sometimes when you make a deal with the devil to take down satan, you get what you want faster than you expected,” she says, and while he doesn’t fully understand, he knows he’ll get the full story later. 

He pulls out her chair for her, pushing it in as she sits. “I do believe we all know one another,” he says to the table at large. “I’d told them to cancel your meal, so excuse me while I get that turned around.”

“Emma! I’m so glad you’re here!” Henry who’d been sitting on his right, beams from ear to ear as he slides over to talk to her. 

“Hi Henry. Everyone. Glad I could make it.”

Hearing her voice and the animated conversation that sparks up between her and Henry immediately calms his nerves for the evening, and he hastens to find one of the caterers so he can return to the table. 

By the time their dinner is served, he’s noticed no less than four times Henry has pulled out his iPod to jot down something in his notes. He smiles as he watches it happen, watches the gears turn in the lad’s head and the magic take root. He manages to keep it in his pocket for the entirety of the meal, but he’s pretty sure that was due to a questioning look from Regina right as the salads were placed in front of them.

With the rest of the table occupied with their desserts, Killian takes a moment to lean over, keeping his voice low as he whispers in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she says, a satisfied little smile on her face. There’s been a peace evident on her face since the moment she walked in, and he’s intrigued but enjoying it. She was never too tightly wound to begin with, apart from the times she got stuck in her own head. This, he assumes, is due to the business with her ex being all wrapped up. 

After the dishes have been cleared, Killian rests in his seat for a bit. There’s still a lot more networking he’ll have to do, but for now he takes the time to relax as he and Robin discuss strategy for announcements. He’s in the middle of helping figure out the order when Emma’s hand creeps onto his thigh. His words falter for a moment, and he can see Emma’s smile get just a little wider. 

When her hand travels a little higher, he reaches down, knowing full well that his ears and cheeks are both bright with flush, and takes a moment when Robin is asking Henry a question to fully turn to her.

“Have pity on me,” he whispers, pulling her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it, and she laughs quietly, turning her palm to link her fingers with his. 

“Just this one time,” she concedes, settling in with their hands clasped. 

-x-

Walking into the venue, Emma is momentarily overwhelmed. She forgot that the Storybrooke office isn’t the whole team, and that a lot of the authors would be there, so there’s just a sea of people as far as she can see across the space. But then Killian stands up, her eyes finding his as he waves her over. 

And it’s halfway between where she is and where he’s waiting that it hits her full in the gut: She is in love with Killian. She is so in love with that man that she can hardly stand it. He has never once looked at her differently or placed unrealistic expectations on her - he never set out to hurt her. 

There, with the lights of the chandeliers glittering overhead, and the backdrop of the city getting dusted in snow, Emma realizes that she is looking at the man she wants to spend all of her time with if she can. Her heart squeezes, even as she smiles and accepts the kiss he places on her cheek as they settle in.

It’s the first time she’s ever been to a party like this, and she has to think it’s going pretty well. While Killian is occupied with his duties, Emma offers to watch Roland so Regina can go with Robin as he makes rounds to greet everyone. Emma follows him as he drags her from one end of the penthouse to the other, eager to show her anything and everything he can. 

By the end of the night, her feet hurt and she’s all too happy to get her belongings from the coat check room so she can slip on the flats she bought. She’s leaning against the wall, innocently trying to pry her feet out of the booties when Killian comes up behind her, his hand warm through the material of her dress and his voice hot in her ear. 

“Are you trying to kill me tonight?”

“I’m just trying to change my shoes. It’s not my fault your eyes automatically go to my ass when you approach me.”

He looks affronted when she turns to look at him, a smile hiding behind the expression.

“Besides,” she says, “I just can’t wait for you to get me out of this dress.”

“I’m ordering us a car right now.”

It’s amazing; she knows he prefers the quiet and solitude of their little town, but he performs so well in the city - like he was built to live here - and she loves that he chooses not to. They’re both on their best behavior in the car, but Killian purposely sat on her left so his hand can rest on her knee. Rather than spiking that part in her that’s always game for another round of sex, though, it reignites her thoughts from when she entered the party and she stares at him in the dark as the city lights pass them by.

When he notices, he turns to her with a peaceful look on his face, and they smile at each other. “What?” he asks, his fingers tightening once.

“Nothing,” she replies, taking the moment to rest her head on his shoulder for the rest of the journey. “Tonight was great.”

Back at the hotel, they at least manage to settle a bit before Killian follows through with her request, with both of them sighing as the dress slips from her shoulders and drops lightly to the floor. They take their time, slow and languid, savoring each moment with each other.

“I know I’ve said this plenty of times, but I am so happy you were able to make it,” Killian tells her as their skin is still cooling. She needs to go wash the makeup from her face but she’s not quite sure her legs will function in order to do so.

“Me too.” She stares at him, her eyes roaming his face and sinking into the wonder that has been the last three months of her life, thanks to this man.

“What is it?” he asks, his expression serious as he tries to figure out what she’s thinking.

“I… want to thank you for everything. You went into this without knowing and you still haven’t pushed me to talk about what happened or anything and so I just… wanted to say thanks.”

His smile falters, still there but just a touch disappointed that the words weren’t the ones he was expecting after she set it up to be something else, and she knows how it feels. Her thumb strokes along his cheek, pushing at his smile briefly as she leans in to kiss him. 

Maybe next time, she thinks as she moves to the bathroom to clean up before climbing back into bed. Outside, the city keeps moving on as their world slows for sleep. 

-x- December 21: Saturday

As usual, Killian is the one that wakes up first. He sets about ordering breakfast and jumps in the shower in the interim. Emma is awake and sitting up in bed when he comes back out, and he leans over the bed to kiss her good morning. 

“David texted me that he’s on his way home. He has everything we took from Walsh and he’s going to drop it off at my place.”

“That’s certainly good news. Even better news is I have coffee and breakfast being delivered soon.”

She chuckles at that. “Perfect. I wish I had more clothes with me, but I suppose yesterday’s will be fine.”

“My luggage is yours, love. I always pack extra just in case, so help yourself.”

Which seemed like a good idea, until Emma walks out of the bathroom after her own shower in one of his button up shirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her supple form filling out the garment better than he ever could. 

They eat breakfast in bed, the curtains flung open wide to let in the weak, winter sunshine. As they graze their food, Emma books her ticket for their return to Storybrooke, crowing in victory when she scores a seat on Killian’s flight.

“I’ll text David and see if he can pick us up,” Emma tells him when they’re getting ready for their outside adventure, pulling her hat securely over her ears and wrapping her scarf around her neck.

They brave the cold to hit some of the popular winter activities in the city, taking in the Christmas markets and strolling Fifth Avenue. In the early evening, they meet up with Robin, Regina, and the two boys again to enjoy dinner together. With the pressure from the night before long gone, they talk instead of the upcoming holidays. 

It’s clear that Henry is willing to keep the magic alive for Roland, asking the younger boy what he’s planning on asking for Christmas when they go to see Santa after the meal is over. When Killian catches Henry’s eye a short bit later, the lad smiles and gives him a thumbs up. 

After dinner, they set out on their own again to see the Rockefeller tree in person. They stand there, watching the lights twinkle and the skaters on the rink until neither of them can feel their toes and their noses are bright red. 

Sinking into their hotel bed that night, Killian makes sure to set his alarm, but Emma grabs for it before he can set it down.

“Just wanted to double check. Wouldn’t want to miss your alarm or anything,” she says, that smile hidden in the corner of her mouth. 

“Cheeky woman,” he says quietly, making sure to kiss her hard and lovely before they each burrow under the covers. 

There’s another message from David waiting for Emma when they wake up letting her know they’ll be there to pick them up. Thankfully, with no luggage, their disembarking process is much faster and they’re able to get out of the departure door right as David and Snow pull up.

While they go their separate ways when they get back to town, he and Emma have a standing appointment for later in the afternoon to take everything that was acquired from Walsh’s apartment to send it off properly, as she did with her uniform. 

He sets to work on a mission, unpacking his bag and stripping off his dirty clothes to throw everything in his hamper. There’s still time before he meets with Emma, but since he’s been out of town since Friday, he’s behind on his weekend duties and he knows he’ll feel better if he takes the time to do it now rather than waiting. He throws his clothes in the wash, opting for warmer clothes for their task ahead. Instead of sitting around and waiting for the machine to be done, he takes the time instead to pack a picnic of sorts for the task ahead of them. Those items and a blanket all go into a tote bag he got from the last publishing conference he attended. 

Shortly after his laundry is folded and put away, Emma breezes through the door with a large box in her arms. 

“Ready?”

“Aye, just let me grab my keys.”

He locks the door behind them on their way out, and then they make their way to the beach closest to his flat. There’s a fire pit that was built ages ago, large stones surrounding it and a fresh pile of logs that Killian would place money on betting that David set it up for them. 

As he sets to work lighting the fire, he hands Emma the tote to start unpacking their items. She hums happily as she finds the soup, and again when she opens the second thermos that has the hot chocolate. He’s just finishing with his task when he turns to see her pouring the drink into each mug he brought, and raises an eyebrow as she tips a generous amount of whiskey into each one. 

She shrugs when she sees his look. “Believe me, I’m going to need it,” she says after a sip to taste-test. 

They stay on the beach much longer than most people would in December, with fresh snow occasionally falling around them. But they make sure each individual picture makes it into the fire. As delicately as they can, they remove them from the box, and he hands a stack face-down to Emma for her to fold each picture so he can feed it into the fire. 

She sets the thumb drive on the rocks around the pit, making sure to give it a solid stomp before throwing that in as an afterthought. 

“I’m sure it’s terrible for the environment but I need that thing wiped from existence.”

When each item has met its demise, including the box it was all packed away in, Emma puts out the fire using every precaution he’s sure David taught her.

Back in the comforting warmth of his place, Killian pulls out every blanket he owns and waits for Emma to come out of his bedroom from getting changed into pajamas. He piles them on top of her, going to change his own clothes before joining her on the couch. He holds her while she processes the whole thing - some anger and tears, some relief, until she falls asleep on Killian’s shoulder and he has to shift around until they can both stretch out. 

He doesn’t fall asleep until long after she does, whispering a quiet “I love you” against her hair before he finally falls asleep, as well. 

-x- December 23: Monday

They’re still on the couch when Emma wakes up, if only just barely. She’s facing Killian, her back pressed against the couch, with Killian’s arm looped over her waist. She’s just opening her eyes when she hears his gasp and then he’s teetering off the edge. Now wide awake, she peers down to see Killian wincing on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy, love,” he grumbles, rubbing his head where it smacked on the floor. She’s stifling laughter when he leans up and kisses her softly. “Good morning to you, my sweet couch hog.”

“We could’ve moved at any time. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because I love you and wanted you to rest more than I cared about my own comfort,” he responds, only realizing as he finishes speaking that he may have said too much. His eyes, wider and brighter blue than she’s ever seen them, meet her steady gaze.

“I love you, too. But that’s a little dramatic of a reason for why you’re now on the floor.”

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. Or time. This time just happens to be on my remarkably uncomfortable area rug.” She can’t help the laugh that slips out this time and she runs her hands through his hair. Hangover be damned, she loves this man so much.

“Thanks again for last night. I was a bit of a mess,” she says, even though it feels like a vast understatement to what she actually was the day before. He waves his hand to dismiss her words.

“Sometimes, we just need to throw a mini-rager and burn a bunch of illegally obtained pornographic materials. You sure we’ll never need any of that as evidence in case there’s some kind of criminal investigation?”

“James was pretty clear with Walsh about what would happen to him if he tried to pursue legal action. Not only that, but every picture on the website has been removed and the only thing that pops up when the site is unlocked now is a picture of Walsh clutching his junk with an expression of pain on his face.” 

“I wish I could’ve been there to see you make that hit,” Killian admits, pushing up off the cushion to stand. “Come, love, let’s sail away to the kitchen where I can recite dirty poetry to you and make you breakfast.”

She laughs as she takes his hand, because while he doesn’t recite dirty poetry, he does make her breakfast and convince her to play hooky with him for the day. And when he takes her to bed a short time later, he infuses her skin with the words of his love over and over again. 

It’s the first time in years he doesn’t stick to any kind of routine at all, and they’re both perfectly okay with that. 

-x-

Epilogue

[loveofshows]

Don’t Blink

A fic inspired by @garbageisland-0 nomu!Deku au, but with a twist.

Aizawa uses his quirk on the class and soon discovers that it’ll work on Midoriya. In short, three times Midoriya woke up.

A/N: okay so, there's an au I found where Stain didn't wake up and stop the nomu from taking Midoriya. So he was turned into a nomu and by the time they rescued him, he was in a shell with three new quirks. And there was a post I saw that they talked about what would happen if Aizawa could erase the three quirks he was given and this is my take on it.

If you’re curious

Ao3 link

----

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

As always, class 1-A was being their rowdy selves. So, Aizawa had done the reasonable thing, used his quirk and yelled at everyone to zip it. When everyone was settled and ready to listen, Aizawa was about to blink when there was a gasp and a groan coming from his student.

Midoryia blinked as he looked around, somewhat in a daze. "What? What's going on?" he asked, finding himself in the gym with the rest of his class. He barely remembered moving, so why was he here?

"Deku?" Uraraka was the first one to ask, voice soft as she slowly made her way to her friend. "Are you okay?"

"I - um. What's going on? What's happening?" he asked again, looking around. 

Midoriya's not sure when the last time he felt like this, that he felt free, felt like himself.

"Oh shit, is that really you Midoriya?" He heard Kirishima's voice from somewhere beside him.

That had gained the rest of the classes attention, and soon everyone turned to him. Everyone kept talking over each other, all asking if he was okay, if he was back. And what it was like being stuck in his own body.

It was too much, too fast, and it overwhelmed Midoriya. 

He wanted to scream, to run away from everyone. It was too much and it needed to stop. Before the panic could fully consume him, a warm hand slipped in his and he turned to see Todoroki standing beside him.

Todoroki squeezed his hand, and Midoriya could relax again. Only for a short time.

"Alright, that's enough," Aizawa said, and everyone stopped talking. "Midoriya, how are you feeling?"

"Like myself? But at the same time not really," he answered truthfully. Aizawa nodded as he thought. It was the first time since the accident that Midoriya talked. "It's weird you know. It's like I know what's going on around him, but at the same time I don't. It's like I'm here but not really. Does that make any sense?"

Everyone stayed quiet as they thought over Midoriya's words, unsure how to respond.

"It makes a little sense," Todoroki answered, "it's like you're in a little bubble wanting to talk and interact with everyone, but that bubble is stopping you from doing that."

 Midoriya nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Yeah, something like that."

"Do you know how to go back to normal?" Kaminari asked. Which was immediately responded with a hit to the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for Ashido?" Kaminari asked, nursing his head.

"You don't just say that, you moron!" she replied, "Midoriya's been through a lot, why the hell would he know the answer to that?"

"I dunno. Maybe he has, and hasn't found a way to tell us." Kaminari had a point, surprising everyone. "No need to look so shocked. I have my moments."

"You need more moments like that," Jiro whispered, and a few students snickered. Kaminari pouted, though turned his attention back to Midoriya, waiting for the answer.

"Actually, I haven't," he answered, wishing he had a different answer for them. Everyone's hopeful gaze turned sour as they tried to find words to comfort him. "But I'm sure you'll find a way!" he quickly added. "If anyone would be able to, I know you guys will."

"Of course," Iida voiced out after a beat of silence, "we would be honoured too." Everyone shouted, agreeing with Iida. 

Midoriya gave them his bright smile, and it was the last thing they saw before his expression became blank again, the class cried out in alarm.

The second time it happened, All-Might insisted. 

"I don't think it's a good idea, is all I'm saying," Aizawa sighed, running a hand down his face. "He's been through a lot and this strain is the last thing he needs."

"Please Aizawa," All-Might pleaded, "I need him to know that I'm sorry and that I should have saved him."

Aizawa closed his eyes wanting to ignore the desperate look in Yagi's eyes. After a moment, he opened his eyes and shook his head as he gave in. Wondering if anyone can say no to All Might. "Fine. I'll give you five minutes."

Yagi gave him a slight, shaky smile and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, Shouta. I owe you one." And before Aizawa can stop him, Yagi pulled him into a quick hug before disappearing.

Sighing again, Aizawa plopped down on the couch, hoping he's not going to regret this.

When the final bell ran and everyone started to pack up their belongings, he stopped Todoroki and Midoriya before they had the chance to leave the room.

"I'm going to need Midoriya after class," Aizawa stated, causing everyone that was left in the room to stare at him.

"He's not in trouble, right? He hasn't done anything that I know of," Todoroki asked, frowning. Aizawa resisted the urge to sigh, though he shook his head.

"No he's not. All-Might wants to talk to him," Aizawa answered. He could see the questions Todoroki wanted to ask. His eyes widened as it dawned on him.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Todoroki asked instead.

"Not in the slightest," he answered, "but I'm sure this is something both All Might and Midoriya needs closure on. You're welcome to join," he offered and turned to Iida. "That offer includes you too."

Todoroki and Iida shared a look, as if they were having a silent conversation. Iida slowly nodded, and turned back to Aizawa. "Okay," he answered for both of them. The four of them left the classroom together and made their way to the teachers lounge.

As they entered the room, the mood immediately shifted, and it took everything in Todoroki to not grab Midoriya's hand and run. But he refrained, knowing that this was important and he didn't want to ruin it.  

“Are you ready?” Aizawa asked, All Might nodded and watched as Aizawa turned his quirk on Midoriya.

Midoriya blinked, as his eyes started focusing on the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Young Midoriya,” All Might said, going towards him. “I am so sorry.”

Midoriya looked up at him in confusion and turned to everyone else, hoping they could answer. When no one did, he turned back to All Might. “Why are you sorry?”

“I should have been there, or at the very least helped you hone your quirk more,” All Might said, grabbing Midoriya’s hands. The look All Might was giving Midoriya worried him. “I failed as a mentor and I failed to save you. I am so sorry, Midoriya. Please forgive me.”

There was a moment of silence before Midoriya spoke. “No.” that single word shattered All Might’s heart. Before anyone could speak, Midoriya started to explain. “I can’t forgive you because there’s nothing to forgive. It wasn’t your fault the nomu got to me. I don’t blame you for not finding me in time. I believed you would find me and you did. All Might, it’s not your fault.”

The weight that fell on All Mights shoulders lifted, if only a little. “Thank you, young Midoriya.”

Midoriya smiled and turned to Todoroki and Iida. “And if you two are going to say the same thing, don’t,” Midoriya said with that smile that tells them everything will be okay. That there’s nothing to worry about because he’s here.

Both Iida and Todoroki tensed a little, surprised at his words. They always wondered if Midoriya blamed them, and now they knew.

“I don’t blame you at all,” he finished his thoughts. “You were there and tried everything you could to stop the nomu. You did your best and that’s all I could ask for. And that goes for Gran Torino too, and everyone else that was there,” he added as an afterthought.

“I don’t think Endeavour beats himself up as much as we do,” Todoroki chimed in.

Midoriya shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. All I’m saying is stop beating yourself up over it. That’s all I ask.”

The two friends nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa said softly, letting everyone know time was up. Midoriya nodded and gave them one last Midoriya smile. Aizawa blinked and the blank face appeared once more.

The third time it happened, it nearly broke both Midoriya and Aizawa.

No one sees the pain Midoriya is in, no one sees the sadness that Midoriya wants to express. No one hears how frustrated he is, no one hears the pleas, the screams of how much he doesn't want this. Doesn't want to be a Nomu, that he just wants to be himself again.

All everyone sees is the blank look in Midoriya's eyes, all they hear is nothing coming from him. But all they feel is pity, and helplessness because no one should have gone through what Midoriya has gone through, and no one knows how to help him. No one knows how to bring their friend back. It's as if Midoriya had died and is just a living shell and they all hate it.

So when Aizawa tells Mirdoriya to stay after class, a wave of hope washed throughout 1-A. Aizawa didn’t have the heart to tell them that no, they haven’t quite found a way to bring Midoriya back.

So for now, he’ll let them hope.

When the final bell rang,the class slowly packed away their things, in hope to see what Aizawa had to say. With a tired sigh, Aizawa’s hari flared up just for a second and told the class to hurry. They did and the last to hesitate was Todoroki, unsure if he was allowed to stay.

“Come back in five minutes. We’ll be done by then.” With a slow nod, Todoroki left the room. Once everyone was gone and the door closed, Aizawa made his way to Midoriya and his hair lifted. And once again Midoriya blinked and began to focus.

Midoriya looked around before his eyes landed on his teacher. And before Aizawa had the chance to speak, Midoriya spoke up.

“Why?” That one word broke Aizawa’s heart. Midoriya sounded tired, broken even. He sounded like he wanted this to end, and not in the way everyone wants it to end.

“I don’t know, Midoriya,” Aizawa answered after a beat of silence. He wants to close his eyes, and try to collect his thoughts. But he can’t, he needs to tell Midoriya this, needs to give him some hope. Just enough to get him through until they found a more permanent solution than using Aizawa’s quirk.

“But I promise this is the last time,” Aizawa started. All Midoriya could do was nod and look at his teacher in pain. There were tears forming but not quite falling. “I need you to know that we’re doing everything we can to find a way to reverse this.”

“Have-have you thought about Eri?” Midoriya asked, surprising Aizawa. The thought had occurred to him, but he wasn’t sure if she'd be up for it. Though what surprised him more was that Midoriya knew about Eri.

“We could try but I don’t know Midoriya. She’s only six and she’s just learning how to control her quirk,” Aizawa explained. “But how do you know about her?”

“Kirishima, Uraraka and Tsu were talking about her.” Midoriya explained, “she sounds like a good kid.” Aizawa smiled slightly and nodded.

“She is.” the conversation grew as they knew what was coming. And only then did Midoriya’s tears fall.

“Don’t blink,” Midoriya choked out, hanging his head down, and Aizawa’s heart broke more. “Please Aizawa-sensei. It hurts, it hurts so much to be able to see what’s going on and I can’t do anything.”

With nothing else to do, Aizawa pulled Mirodirya into a hug. He let his student cry as he held Aizawa tight.

He knew that Midoriya wanted this to end, could tell he was tired and just wanted to have a normal life again. Aizawa wished this was over, but life wasn’t fair and all they could do was wait.

“We’ll find a way, Midoriya, I promise,” was the last thing Aizawa said before closing his eyes.

When the door opened, Todoroki made his way to Midoriya and gave him a small smile. “Come on Midoriya, Uraraka has food waiting for us,” he said as he led Midoriya out of the classroom. And if Todoroki noticed how puffy Midoriya’s eyes were, well he didn’t comment.

Aizawa watched after the two students with determination to bring Midoriya back.

He was going to succeed, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

[komatsunana]

placebogirl7 submitted to merrygloom:

Hello! I’m re-reading Nana and I realized I’ve never really understood a thing, so I would like to know your opinion since I really like your analysis. The day before dying, while he was talking to Takumi, Ren said he wanted to leave Trapnest, because he didn’t want to get the band into trouble because of his drug addiction. Then the day after, while he was driving his car and talking to Hachi on the phone, he said he was going to bring back Reira because he wants to protect Trapnest. I’ve always been confused about this: do you think Ren in the end was really willing to leave Trapnest? Sometimes I have the impression he wanted to get back Reira as his last “gesture of love” towards Trapnest, like to say “I will leave before getting you into trouble, but before I want to be sure you’ll be all together and will continue even without me, because I owe you this since you’ll be my mates and my family for 3 years”. Maybe because I am convinced that the mysterious present for Nana is a recorded melody that she would have transformed into a song, considering the fact that during his conversation with Takumi he said he wants to leave Trapnest even because he missed Nana, and he thought about the moment when she yelled at him “Stop writing songs for another woman!”.  On the other hand, sometimes I feel doubtful about Ren’s real intentions. Maybe he wanted to bring back Reira and then follow Takumi’s scheduled program to quit on drugs and return with Trapnest, even knowing that Nana would have hated him for this? It would have been pointless to try to quit on drugs if in the end he would have not solved the problems that brought him to take drugs.  I’ve always wanted him to get back with Blast, because I support Kinoshita’s thought: I want to hear Ren Honjo’s cry of the soul! It’s when Ren plays punk music that he shows all his talent. 

Sorry for the looooong post, I hope you will have time and will to answer! ♥

–

I always have time to answer you @placebogirl7!!  I’m so glad to see you around lately, even though I know the circumstances right now aren’t… the best.  I hope you and yours are all safe and healthy and remain so.

You bring up a lot of interesting points though!  My view, just from re-reading volumes 19-20 just now, is that Ren was quitting Trapnest but because he wanted to but because he didn’t want his drug addiction to harm the band’s image.  Part of that image is making sure that Reira doesn’t run off and potentially harm her own public image.  I think he is going to going to fetch her for Trapnest’s image and for Reira’s sake - as Ren says earlier in that conversation with Takumi, Reira is his best friend/soulmate (fan translations say soulmate, Shojo Beat’s version says best friend) - so I don’t think it’s mutually exclusive in that instance that Ren wants to protect the band by leaving and go bring Reira back.

I’ve thought about it for the last few days but I don’t think Ren thought about Nana saying “Don’t write songs for other women!” because it was his reason he wanted to leave the Trapnest even in part tbh.  I think he thought about Nana in that moment because the reason he can’t quit is because taking them makes being apart from her bearable (not to mention not taking them puts him into withdrawal which inhibits his ability to play the guitar).  I also think he has trouble facing Nana because he is so deep into the drugs that he can’t bear to let her see him like that.

But I also think that things had changed since Ren had that conversation with Takumi and promised to leave the band and Ren leaving to go bring Reira back (and I think even his final talk with Hachi on the phone might have changed his perspective of the situation too).  So I don’t know that Ren would have gone through with leaving Trapnest if it’d have harmed Trapnest’s public image more than staying.  If Ren hadn’t died… I have no idea if he’d have left the band or not.

I talk about it a lot but I think to understand what Ren would have done we need to see the conversation Takumi and Ren had when Ren first left Blast for Trapnest.  What was Takumi’s pitch that made Ren believe in Trapnest so much?  Was it simply Reira and her voice?  In that case it has a lot of implications about Ren’s belief in Nana’s voice.  As you said, Kinoshita wanted to see Ren’s soul cry in his music, in a way that it wasn’t in Trapnest.  So what was it that made Ren join Trapnest??  I know a lot of people thought it was just the fame and a once in a life time opportunity but… I don’t see that?  With the Ren we know, I don’t believe it.  There’s something more to the story imo.  

I know I’ve been talking about it a lot lately but I really do think a Ren side story chapter was planned and would have answered that question.  The other bonus chapters were building up to it, I think.  Naoki’s story told Trapnest’s origin story, as well as Ren’s.  Nobu’s story told Blast’s origin story, but was less about Nana and Ren and more about Nana and Nobu - the two without whom there is no Blast.  Takumi’s told us why Trapnest even got an origin story - Takumi’s need to protect the one good thing in his life, Reira and her voice.  These stories changed absolutely nothing in the main story and yet…. they changed everything and I think a postmortem Ren chapter would have as well.

I also think knowing what Ren’s gift to Nana for her birthday would also answer an entirely different but related set of questions too.  Unfortunately while I think whatever it is is somewhere textually in the chapters we have, I haven’t the foggiest what it was because there are so many possibilities.

But I gotta say I hadn’t realized I’d been wanting that for some time myself… For Ren to play with Blast even just one more time!!  We only ever see Ren and Nana play music together in the prologue.  For a couple who love their music it’s a travesty!!  And to hear Ren play punk on top of that… And yet, now I realize with the amount of scathing Ren feels for Kinoshita when ever he says such things I wonder if I hadn’t been belittling Ren’s feelings for Trapnest and why he wanted to play with them above anything.  Because it all comes back to why did Ren leave Blast for Trapnest in the first place?  But even without an answer we know that Ren did feel absolutely loyal to Trapnest for his own reasons.

Eheh, no worries on the long ask… sorry for the long reply that basically amounts to “It’s a mystery~”  But thank you for asking and anyone else!!  Feel free to chime in with your own take!!  Here or on the NANA & Ai Yazawa discord!!!!

Here’s today’s (4/6/20) Discord invite link if you haven’t joined already: https://discord.gg/7KMKyF

[silverwhiteraven]

Borne of the Stars - Chapter 9 - An MLB Kryptonian AU

Tag List:  @eve-valution @weird-pale-blonde-person @kris-pines04 @soulmate-game @abrx2002 @amayakans @vixen-uchiha @heldtogetherbysafetypins @raisuke06 @dorkus-minimus @captainartsypants @mopester-is-here @moonlightstar64 @annabellabrookes @maribat-is-lifeblood @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-navistar-carol @elspethshadow @chocolatecatstheron​ @ivymala07

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 8 ] [ Chapter 10 ]

[ Summary: Lunch was enjoyed, Félix has a message, and more talk happens as they return to school. ]

The group of students spent the remainder of their lunch period eating to their hearts’ content. Marinette and Barbara had pitched in together to make sandwich wraps, something the latter had compared to being “just like a burrito!” Everything else was bread and pastries brought up from the bakery below.

“Those were the best scones I ever had, I wish I could live here and eat them every day,” Babs lamented as they all gathered their things, preparing to return to school.

The others giggled at her antics and Marinette shrugged. “You get used to them; besides, those were only the rejects, you should try what they sell in the counter displays.”

“Rejects? Those were rejects? But they were perfect! Absolutely delicious!” 

Marinette only shrugged again with a sheepish grin. Kara chuckled, knowing the reason for the ‘rejects’. Nino, who also understood the reason, hid his laugh at the continued dramatics and answered the unspoken question.

“Yeah, dude, they’re the stuff that didn't come out quite right. Not good enough to sell, y’know? But they're still just as edible as everything else, so they bring them up here to eat with meals.”

“Anything we don't eat with lunch or keep for dinner, we donate,” Marinette finished the explanation, standing from her barstool perch at the countertop table. 

“Is that where you get the macaroons for your class?” Karen gestures to the now empty macaroon box sitting in the recycling can. The last of them had been taken by the girls, Nino content with his scones.

Marinette shook her head, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Made those ones myself from our home supplies. I stopped letting Maman and Papa give me some from the bakery once I perfected the recipes myself. Still as good as my parents’, Nino?”

The boy gave her two thumbs up and a nod with a big smile. “Can’t even tell the difference, dudette.”

“Aw, sure you can, Major!” Kara exclaims, calling Nino by one of her music-based nicknames for him. “Can't you taste it? She puts much more love into the baking she does for her friends.” 

There’s barely a beat before the group bursts into laughs and giggles at the claim, and Marinette covers her blushing embarrassment with her hands. However, she can't help but smile with a bit of appreciation and pride at the statement.

“Thank you, Kara, I’m glad you liked them. Come on guys, it’s a bit of a walk back to the lycée.” She sighs, and adds in lament, “I’m going to miss the days of walking to the collège; living right next door is a blessing I never savored.”

Nino nods in understanding, patting her back and staring at a chain of all the girls following suit in their own pats of comfort, bringing out a giggle from the now comforted girl. 

As everyone files out the door and heads down the stairs, Marinette holds the door and leaves last. “Head out the ground floor’s back door, the lunch rush is too busy to get through,” she reminds the group as they head down. Her phone chimes in her pocket as she descends the last of the steps, and she pulls the device out as she exits outside. 

“Félix?” Her brow scrunches in confusion and she frowns, pulling the attention of her friends.

“Adrien’s cousin?” Nino asks, stepping closer.

“The Luthor boy?” Babs voiced her own curiosity.

“You mean the Graham de Vanily heir?” Karen pitches in, a little more excited.

Kara breaks the chain of questioning the identity of Félix with a: “What did he say?”

“‘Something doesn't seem right about today. Be careful. And just in case, keep that reporter’s contact open. Paris may need assistance.’” Marinette read the message out loud, her confusion turning to worry.

“I've never gotten a message like this from him before. He never contacts me during school hours, either, even breaks. I wonder what’s wrong…” As she muses, she sends a simple return text: ‘Will do. And you too, Fé. Let’s hope it’s nothing.’

She doesn’t voice her reply before she puts the phone away, or the last one from Félix. 

‘We shall see.’

“That was…ominous,” Babs voices skeptically as the group resumes their walk back towards the school. 

“He can get like that sometimes, it’s nothing to worry about,” Maritnette shrugs, trying to brush the new worry off everyone’s shoulders. As the only one of them who had been around him the most so far, she was the only one at the moment who could reassure them. And as such, she didn’t voice that Félix’s hunches were usually right in some way or another. Yet she refused to worry anyone else any further, and kept the tidbit to herself.

Her efforts seem to work as the others seem to relax. All except Kara, looking pensive.

Marinette and Kara both drop to the back of their small group, a couple paces behind the other three who had struck up a new conversation about Nino’s hat and the girls’ preferences of headgear that didn't act difficult with their longer hair. 

“Rolling Penny for your thoughts?” Marinette jokes to the hero, who snorts at the play on words with their shared interest in music.

“Get me a Stone with Jagged edges and you can have your pick of thoughts for the rest of our lives.” Marinette laughs as she imagines handing over her only famous commissioner as a trade offering.

She shakes her head and chuckles, “No can do, that’s a free Stone, no keeping it like a pet rock. You'll have to settle for the Penny.”

Kara taps her chin in thought before snapping, smirking with a tease; “How ‘bout a nice crystal cluster instead? I hear Geodes are pretty and valuable.”

The teased girl snorts and shakes her head. “This crystal is already around you often enough. I’ll add in extra tarts to our next hang out, would you consider that payment enough?”

“It’ll do, for now,” was the joking return, and the two shared a laugh.

“But really, Kara, what is it? Is Félix’s text bothering you?”

A shrug, and then, “Well, yeah, I’m still a little wary around him, ya’know? His dad was still Lex Luthor, and no hero, let alone any Kryptonian, could trust that man to be as far away from us as we could throw him; and trust me, we could have thrown him far if we wanted to. And you say Félix says things like that a lot?? It sounds a lot like something similar to my original suspicions about you.”

Marinette glances back up at Kara quizzically. “What suspicion in particular?”

“Well the whole ‘Kryptonite in your body’ thing isn't exactly a common thing. Seeing Félix at the same time I saw those crystals in you? Painted a really bad picture. Lex wasn't exactly against human experimentation.”

She recalled a few of the stories both Supergirl and Alya had told her about Lex Luthor, even a few of his family getting their hands dirty in the same villainous business, and factoring in the new information, Marinette understood a bit more about how easy  it could be to have suspicions like this against people around the Luthor family. Not to mention the family itself.

“So, you think...Monsieur Luthor did something to Félix?” She was a bit alarmed at the conclusion, worry coating her words and thoughts. 

“That, or he’s just a really observant guy. But! Now it’s your turn not to worry about it!” Kara explains, her voice gaining a light cheerfulness and reassurance as she pulls Marinette against her side with one arm. “School is no time to fret over anything except making it to the last bell.”

Marinette laughs and leans into the side-hug, taking comfort in it. “Since when did you prefer school over thinking about all the potential future dangers you could be punching into the sun?”

“Since I had friends to hang out with,” was the returned quip, and an added, “And no more etiquette classes was a huge bonus, too.”

“They have etiquette in America?”

“Nope, on Krypton, it was kinda a thing for me. Kal got lucky.” The Kryptonian scoffs. “But I have a feeling I'm going to dread being at my new home because I'll be suffering through it again,” she groans, nodding out towards the school they could now see down the street.

A glaringly obvious person decked out in all yellows, white and black was standing out front.

“Chloé? What did she do this time? Is this why she was glaring at you all morning?”

“Yep,” Kara scowls, “Publicity stunt from her dad, he offered to host the cousin of world-renowned reporter Clark Kent during her stay in Paris. Lady Bourgeois over there doesn't like my ‘uncivilized, barbarian lifestyle’,” she mocked with a sarcastic one-handed air quote and an eye-roll.  

“She’s a bit of a handful, I can agree with that,” Marinette smiled sympathetically, suppressing a laugh at the inaccurate jabs. “I’ll help you out if you want, I’ve dealt with her for enough years to gain a life-long tolerance.”

“I’ve got your number; I’ll call you if I need to. Or,” came the teasing tone, “I’ll just do it anyways; I could never get tired of talking with you.” 

With a laugh and an eye-roll of her own, Marinette stepped away from the other and picked up her pace to catch up with the rest of their group. “School first, we can figure out our new phone schedule later, if we even need one now that we share a timezone.”

“Touché, lil’ Butterfly, touché,” Kara concedes, catching up only a step behind.

The Parisian girl raises a brown, “Butterfly?” 

“Beautiful, always a step ahead, and always dodging around everything.”

“Dodging?” Kara, I can't dodge anything for my life without warning first.”

The two laughed, and Kara nudged the other girl reassuringly. “Besides avoiding compliments you shouldn’t, I think you’re doing just fine on your own.”

“Well, besides those embarrassing compliments, if there's anything I shouldn't be missing, warn me, okay? I’d hate to leave anything hanging.”

Kara gave a big sideways grin, her eyes hinted with wistfulness. “Sure, Geode, I’ll do that; at least for anything that doesn't want to wait for a perfect timing first.”

“Like?”

“The fact that we’re back at school and the warning bell just rang?”

“AH!! Kara! Warn me next time!”

[prettyboongi]

It Had to Be You

[A/N: Omigod guys! I’m so excited! This is my first series ever and hopefully not my last. The idea for this series came to me about when I first started this blog and it’s been stewing in my mind ever since. This series is really inspired by laidback coming of age films and my favorite childhood cartoons, so I’m definitely going for a more nostalgic feel. Also, I’m trying something a little different with my writing. I decided to write this with a somewhat American-esque setting, and with that names are going to written in the western way (ex. Taehyung Kim, Jimin Park, Jungkook Jeon). So keep that in mind. I really hope you guys enjoy this series and please feel free to give me feedback!]

Quick thanks to @soft-hard-peaches​ and @cheonjae-min​ for encouraging me to write this series <3

Reader x Taehyung (also including Jimin and Jungkook!)

Word Count: 1,749

Warnings: some strong language

First posted: 07.04.20

Chapter One: Dog Days Are Over

“What’s taking him so long?,” Taehyung whines as he leans his back against the large tree he and his friend Jungkook found shelter from. He takes out his flip phone to check the time. “He should be here by now.” 

Sitting down next to him, Jungkook looks up at Taehyung, “Didn’t he mention he had to run some errands with his mom?” 

Taehyung sighs. “Yeah but he texted me he was on his way to the park but that was 30 minutes ago!” 

Normally, the young boy wouldn't mind his best friend Jimin Park running late to their rendezvous. But today was their last day of summer vacation, before starting their first day of eight grade. So understandably, he wanted to enjoy the last bit of freedom as long as he could. 

Today was an especially hot mid-August afternoon. The torrid summer air made it feel as if your skin was baking from the uncomfortable heat, and the occasional breeze that came now and then barely served any justice. The large tree Taehyung and Jungkook were under did help shield some of the sun’s harsh rays from beaming down on them but still couldn’t protect them from the dry environment. Despite this torture, Taehyung actually liked days like this. It was so that a lot of people avoid going outside. Many overprotective moms often confine their children at home to avoid the possibility of heatstroke. With usually crowded places like the park only having a handful of people, Taehyung felt as if his small town was his domain. 

Jungkook began going over his excitement for his first day of sixth grade. He was absolutely giddy that he would finally be considered one of the big kids, although Taehyung reminded him he still had a long way to go. Taehyung tried his best to listen to Jungkook, only ending up drifting off to his own reverie. It was the sound of approaching footsteps that brought him back to the real world. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” Taehyung hears Jimin say before facing towards him. 

“It’s fine, let’s just hurry and-,” Taehyung stops himself when he sees that Jimin hadn’t come alone. Standing next to him was some girl about his height.  You were about the same height as Jimin, making you slightly shorter than Taehyung. You had your hair in a downward ponytail, and was wearing a faded red baseball tee with denim capri pants. Taehyung didn’t see anything spectacular about you, but then again he felt that way about most girls his age. 

Smiling at his two friends absentmindedly, it takes a moment before Jimin catches on to the awkward silence. 

“Oh yeah sorry,” Jimin says bashfully, rubbing the back of his head, “this is Y/N, she’s new here.” He then gestures to the two boys. “These are my best friends, Taehyung Kim and Jungkook Jeon.” 

“‘Sup?,” you greeted, giving a quick nod. 

Taehyung copies the same action as the new girl, “Nothing much.” Taehyung didn’t really know what else to say to Y/N; it wasn’t that he was shy or anything, he just really didn’t expect to meet anyone new. However the ever shy Jungkook stayed silent and tried to hide behind his older friend. 

"Do you mind if she tags along with us?"

"Nope, it's cool," Taehyung answered, hiding his annoyance. Taehyung really wanted to spend the last day of summer break with just his two best buds, not with some kid he didn't even know. As much as he wanted to send you back to where she came from, he also didn't want a dick and just kick you out. 

Taehyung pulled out his phone and checked the time again. "We better head to Moon's Comics before he closes for the day." 

"Yeah definitely," Jimin replies, "but on the way there, let's stop by the convenience store and get some slushies." 

Taehyung shoots him a dirty look. "Dude, you already so long to get here." 

"Come on, Taetae," Jimin cooed affectionately, "it's really hot today, we could all use one." 

Initially, Taehyung doesn't budge, and it didn't expect for you to chime in. 

"Yeah, Taetae," Y/N says in a mocking yet playful tone, "a little detour couldn't hurt. And I just got my allowance so it'll all be on me." 

Taehyung didn't know what to make of your generous offer. But he wasn't quick to refuse a free slushie. 

As the quartet made their way to the nearby convenience store, the conversation was primarily made up with getting to know you. You revealed that you were from the city and that you were sent to live with your aunt and grandma. 

“They own that one bookstore, across from the Tino’s Pizzeria,” Jimin informed Taehyung, “it was one of the places me and mom had to stop by earlier, and that’s where I was introduced to Y/N.” 

Taehyung was genuinely surprised. “I never knew  there was a bookstore around  there. And I go to Tino’s all the time.” 

Jimin shook his head. “Of course you didn’t, Tae. You don’t read.”

Taehyung glares at him while you stifled a giggle. Secretly, Taehyung had to admit: your giggle was pretty damn cute.  

You also revealed that you were the same age as Taehyung and Jimin, starting the 8th grade alongside them. At one point, you whispered to Taehyung, “Hey, what’s with Bambi?”, subtly gesturing towards Jungkook. 

“Oh that’s just he’s just really shy, especially around girls.” 

“Oh,” you responded understandably. However, that didn’t stop you from catching Jungkook’s attention and waving at him flirtily. This causes the poor kid to turn beet red and walk further away from the group. “Okay, he’s now my favorite.” 

The friendly ring of the convenience store door went as the four kids made their way out. Thanks to the generosity of the new girl, each person had a large cherry slushie in one hand and an additional treat of their choosing. 

"Thanks for treating us, Y/N," Jimin says to her with a big smile on his face. 

"Yeah, thanks," chimed Taehyung, "you really didn't have to." 

You took a sip from your slushie before responding to the two boys. "Oh it's no problem. This just means you guys owe me next time." You shoot them a playful smile. 

Noticing Jungkook hasn't said anything in awhile, Jimin turns to him. "Jungkook, don't you have something to say to Y/N." 

Jungkook stops mid-sip and quickly wipes his red stained mouth. "Um, thank you, Y/N," he says in a quiet voice. 

You then step close to Jungkook and pat his head gently. "You're very welcome, cutie." 

This tender gesture causes the sixth grader-to-be blush slightly and beam at you as if you were a divine goddess. Seeing this, Jimin quietly giggles to himself while Taehyung rolls his eyes. 

Despite the unexpected addition to the group, Taehyung's last day of freedom was a huge success. He got some tasty treats to enjoy on the way to the comic bookshop. There, he got a copy of the manga he wanted and a free poster from the owner, Mr. Moon, to congratulate him on starting the new school year. He honestly thought things couldn't get better. And it also felt nice to meet someone as cool as you. For the longest time, he's been comfortable with just his two best friends but now he couldn’t wait to see where this friendship with you will go. 

The gang were on their way back to the park to hang out for the rest of the day. Laughs filled the air as Taehyung was telling a story about his accidentally leaving him at the supermarket. When he noticed that you suddenly stopped in front of them, that's when he walks closer to you. 

"Hey, what's up?," he asks while studying the intense look on your face. When you didn't answer him, he turned his gaze ahead to see what you were so fixed on.  All he saw in front ahead was a couple, a boy and girl, sitting on a bench about two yards before Taehyung and you stood. They looked to be older teenagers and they were feeding each other french fries, all lovey dovey. The other cheesiness of the scene made Taehyung grimace. 

You turn to Taehyung and give him a mischievous smile. “Hey fellas,” she called out, “Watch this!” Before any of the boys could react, they saw you wind up your arm back -cherry slushie still in hand- and threw your drink right at the seated couple. 

In mere seconds, the couple was covered in the cold red goop, their expression in complete shock. The teenage boy looks towards the direction of where the slushie was thrown and ultimately finds the culprit. The moment the boy got up from the bench, Taehyung heard you shout, “Run”, as she had already made a head start. Before they knew it, the three boys were running for their lives, trying to make sure the angry teen doesn’t catch up to them and murder them. Taehyung did his very best to run at the same speed as you while you effortlessly were hauling serious ass. Jimin had some trouble catching up especially as he was pulling Jungkook’s arm, making sure he doesn’t fall behind. 

After a minute of running, the gang found a sewage tunnel to hide in, losing the angry teen completely. The sounds of their lingering pants echoes throughout the spacious tunnel. Once Taehyung’s breathing returned to it’s normal pace, he was suddenly filled with fierce irritation. 

“What the hell was that all about?!” he shouts at Y/N. 

Taehyung waited for an explanation from you, but you only responded with a fit of laughter. 

“Omigod, did you see the look on that dude’s face?!,” you guffawed, holding yourself as if you were going to topple over. 

The three boys stared at you in silence, totally flummoxed over the entire situation. However, you were too busy trying to die down your own laughing fit to even notice.

“Y/N,” Jimin said as you were quieting down, “Why did you throw your slushie at them?”

You wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes before answering Jimin’s question. “Simple: because I thought it would be funny.” You shoot the three of them a devilish smirk. 

Taehyung's eyes widened at the girl he initially thought was easygoing and kind. But now he sees an entirely different person from before. He thinks to himself, “What is this chick’s deal?” 

[bagog]

Kaidan Appreciation Week, 2019 - Free Day

This one is pretty long, so I’ll probably post it to AO3 i you’d rather wait to read it there. Also posting it late. Oh well, may Kaidan Week live on in your hearts every day of the year, @spectrekaidanalenko

++

Kaidan had taken a cab back to his and Shepard’s apartment on the Silver Sun Strip, the top button on his tailored suit undone. As he took the elevator up to their level, he sighed, leaned back against the wall of the lift. It was late, and even so, the day had sped past, and Kaidan almost felt bad about that. Almost. He was ready for his retirement, no matter how much the young man in his head cried out that there was still more he should be doing. Kaidan smiled, remembering himself as a young soldier. Back when duty was the only thing in his head besides the migraines. There was still that young man inside him, somewhere—Shepard sometimes talked about it, even, when Kaidan got upset and lost his composure, when he played with his grandkids, sometimes when they made love—but nowadays, Kaidan accepted it as a part of him. It was like listening to a long-standing councilor, reminding him why he had done the things he’d done, made the choices he’d made, to remind him of the passions that drove him. Kaidan let that little voice pass through his head, urging him back to work. Back into the fray. Other things had become important to him. He looked down at his wedding ring, so tightly fixed to his finger he doubted he could even pull it off.

There had been a ceremony for his retirement, a small affair, despite the fact that Kaidan’s retiring was big news.  He had become somewhat accustomed to hearing about himself around the Citadel on extranet audio feeds, but it was the first time where the news sounded resoundingly positive. Kaidan sighed, he wouldn’t be in the news anymore. What a relief. He honestly hadn’t allowed himself to look forward to his retirement, not the specifics, anyway. He probably wouldn’t feel the pull to go back to work right away tomorrow morning, but within a week he was almost positive he’d be bored. Shepard had retired years earlier, and had made it work somehow. Shepard was even more likely to be drawn back into things than Kaidan was, and somehow he had become an exemplar retiree. Of course, he’d had their kids to raise as a stay-at-home dad. And he had his models, and his writing.

“I need a hobby. Or I need to see if Alice will bring the kids around, more often,” he muttered to himself, stepping off the elevator. Walking to his apartment door, he waved his omni-tool over the sensor, but nothing happened, the holo-disk on the door remaining a fixed red. He waved his omni-tool again, still nothing. He thought for a moment about hacking the door—it would feel good to sink into some tech fiddling, again—but instead he rang the door chime. There was a long pause, then Shepard’s face was filling the reception screen.

“Oh Kaidan, you’re back. I thought you’d be at the retirement party for a little while longer.”

“I excused myself early,” Kaidan waved his hand as if to brush away Shepard’s question. “Hey, why isn’t my omni-tool opening the door lock?”

“I, uh, changed the locks.” The crinkles around Shepard’s eyes deepened as he tried to grin to ease the tension.

“Um. Why?”

“You’ll see. Here, I’ll open the door just give me a second.” The reception screen went dead. Kaidan could swear he heard fumbling from the other side of the door, but it was probably just his imagination. He hadn’t thought much about it when Shepard excused himself from the official retirement party, but now he was suspicious. A moment later, the holo-disk on the door flashed green and Kaidan walked in.

“Surprise!”

Shepard stood in front of the door, arms outstretched. Behind him stood his old friends. Garrus and Tali raising a glass to him, Liara not looking a day over 130, Joker sitting on the couch craning over the back to raise his glass as well, EDI standing by his side. A large holographic display above the mantle said “HAPPY RETIREMENT”.

“What’s this?” The laughter bubbled out of him, and Shepard stepped forward to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“It’s your real retirement party,” Shepard smiled mischievously. “I knew those suits on the Council wouldn’t know how to send you off in style.”

“What are you all doing here?” Kaidan stepped farther into the room, surveying the cluster of friends with incredulity.

“Just happened to be in the area,” Garrus said. It was odd to see him without his tactical visor, even if he hadn’t been wearing it in years. He was so much older than Kaidan remembered, but then again, Kaidan wasn’t one to talk.

“I call bullshit.” Kaidan chuckled. Tali rested a hand on Garrus’ shoulder.

“What are a few thousand light years between old friends?”

“And Liara,” Kaidan turned as Liara handed him a flute of champagne. “You haven’t come to the Citadel in years.”

“I decided it was worth breaking my self-imposed exile to come help you celebrate.”

“Joker, it’s good to see you!” Kaidan clinked his glass against Joker’s.

“Yeah, well, Earth was getting boring and I still owe Shepard a favor or two,” he smirked.

“Jeff has been looking forward to attending this party for some time,” EDI assured with her own soft smile. The nuance in her expressions had evolved over time, and the dermal fabrication she was now outfitted with did a lot to help her overall relatability. “As have I. Many happy returns, Kaidan.”

“I tried to wrangle up as many people as I could, but I knew you’d want to keep it small.” Shepard stepped behind him and rested a hand on the small of his back.

“It’s perfect.” Kaidan sipped at the champagne. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you all here.”

“Here, you give me this,” Shepard plucked the glass from his hand. “And you go upstairs and change into something comfortable.” He fussed with Kaidan’s unbuttoned collar for a moment, running his hand down the stiff material of the suit. “Then we can cut the cake.”

“You got a cake?”

“You losing your hearing on me, Alenko?” Shepard raised a mischievous eyebrow. “Now, go get changed!”

Kaidan stepped up the stairs as the small party settled themselves on couches around the fireplace. In his and Shepard’s room, he stripped out of his suit and walked into the closet. He surveyed the clothes inside—day-off clothes. Now they were going to be his every day apparel. He considered taking a quick shower, but decided he didn’t want to keep his guests waiting and put on a pair of jeans and a button down flannel.

There was lively conversation happening downstairs by the time Kaidan stepped up to the balcony. It made him smile to see everyone talking and laughing. It had been years since they’d all been in the same room. Kaidan had seen each of them over the years as they came to visit Shepard while on the Citadel, but to have his crewmates all under one roof was a special treat. By this point in their lives, they’d spent more time separated from one another than together, but after what they had all shared, there were few people in the galaxy they were closer to than each other, even after all this time.

“Kaidan!” Tali exclaimed when he came back down the stairs and joined Shepard on the couch, retrieving his champagne flute. “You look good! Shepard, how come you didn’t age as gracefully as your husband, hm?”

“Very funny. I know what a lucky man I am.” He put his hand on Kaidan’s knee and gave his husband a wide smile.

“Not fair to be criticizing other people getting older when you get to wear a mask every day.” Joker was pouring himself another glass of champagne, setting the empty bottle back on the table to join the three empty bottles there already.

“Get to wear a mask?” Tali said. “Same as you get to wear that exoskeleton, I suppose?”

“Oh please,” Joker patted the metal exoframe on his legs. “I could take this off any time I wanted.”

“Kaidan doesn’t need you breaking a bone at his party, old man,” Garrus said, dryly. “And I don’t think EDI wants to carry your ass to a hospital if you do.”

“You’re just smug because your face was already so messed up, no one could tell you were getting older,” Joker said.

“Turians don’t get wrinkles.”

“Neither do asari,” Liara offered, giving Joker a little smile over the lip of her glass.

“You pipe down, young lady,” Joker said. “We’re all going to be dead before anyone gets to call you old.”

“Now that’s a depressing thought.” Tali crossed one leg over the other.

“Good thing I have plenty of good memories to keep me company,” Liara had a twinkle in her eye. “Not to mention records of all your personal files.

“I don’t envy you the things you must have seen,” Kaidan laughed.

“Laugh it up,” Joker shook his head. “I’ll still be sitting pretty when the rest of you are dust.” He turned to Liara, “Except you.” He turned back to EDI, “And you.”

“Keelah can we talk about something else?”

“You started it,” Shepard teased, stretching one arm and resting it behind Kaidan’s shoulders.

“I just gave a simple compliment to the man of honor on the occasion of his retirement.” Tali orated a little too loudly, sounding like she’d been indulging in the champagne while Kaidan was upstairs. She jerked a thumb at Joker, “Then chuckles over here decided to make things personal. And talking about death.”

“’Chuckles?’” Joker scoffed. “When did this become a gang-up-on-Joker party?”

“You make it too easy,” EDI said.

“After all the times I saved all of your asses,” Joker shook his head.

“Still, Joker’s right,” Garrus sat up a little straighter, probably exercising a crick in his back. “This is supposed to be Kaidan’s night.” He turned to Kaidan, “Let me just say, Kaidan, that the first time I met you, I thought you were a helluva soldier, if a little uptight—“

“You were the one with a stick up your ass,” Joker murmured into his champagne flute.

“—I remember our first mission together, hunting down Fist—“

“I wasn’t there for that,” Kaidan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it was you and Wrex,” Shepard said.

“Look, are you going to let me tell my story, here, or what?” Shepard and Kaidan both chuckled and nodded for Garrus to continue. “So alright, I don’t remember our first mission together. But I do remember the first conversation we ever had on the Normandy. We talked about you joining the Alliance.”

“That’s right,” Kaidan could hardly believe he could remember. “I was telling you about the day I joined the Alliance.”

Garrus nodded.

“When I found out you were a biotic, and later when I found out you had an L2 implant, I couldn’t believe the Alliance was willing to take a chance on you.”

“They weren’t going to, at first.”

“Well, I’m glad they took a chance on you. Best decision the Alliance ever made, if you ask me. Glad I gave you a chance, too. Here’s to you.”

“I do remember my first mission with Kaidan,” Tali spoke up as soon as Garrus had raised his glass. “We were on that god-awful planet fiddling with that downed probe.”

“This I don’t remember,” Kaidan shrugged.

“There were downed probes all over the place, and Shepard brought us as his tech experts. I remember you tried decrypting the information using a double-diffusion decompression matrix!”

“No way would I have done that, even back then!”

“You did! I remember because I thought it was silly.”

“That would be silly, jeez, what was I thinking?” He turned to Shepard, “Do you remember this?”

“Another planet, another downed probe. They all bleed together,” Shepard shrugged.

“Well anyway, I thought you were an idiot, but somehow you managed to catch your mistake and decrypt most of the data. I couldn’t believe it!”

“That would’ve back when I had that overclocked Cission pro.”

“Alright nerds, get to the point,” Joker huffed.

“Anyway, on the ride back to our pick-up, I asked you about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t joined the Alliance.” She tilted her head expectantly.

“I wanted to be a painter,” Kaidan laughed, enjoying the memories and the heady rush of the champagne.

“That’s what you told me,” Tali said. “You were one of the first humans I ever got to know. You’ve always been such a hard worker, such a good friend, such a good judge of character, I just expected all humans to be like that. Didn’t take me long to realize you were special. And I’m glad you’ll get to settle down, now.”

“Thank you, Tali,” Kaidan smiled warmly.

“I remember when you first promoted to Staff Commander,” Liara spoke up. “You came to visit me on Ilium. As I recall, it was the first time I found out you had feelings for Shepard.”

“This was while Shepard was dead that first time?” Garrus asked, Shepard leaned in as well. Liara nodded.

“You were feeling emotional about outranking Shepard. It took everything I had not to tell you that I’d recovered his body and given it to Cerberus.”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I had acted impulsively, giving Shepard over to Cerberus like that. To be honest, I probably felt a little guilty, too.”

“Well, I for one, am glad you did what you did.” Shepard squeezed Kaidan’s shoulder.

“Me too,” Kaidan said.

“Hearing the way you talked about Shepard made me realize how much you loved him. Made me even more determined to hold Cerberus to account.”

“I think you might’ve known more about me than I knew about myself, that day. I don’t know how much I knew about my feelings toward Shepard, then.”

“I had such a hard time talking to you once we met back on Mars. But you never brought it up.” She looked up from staring at her hands, “You’ve been a great friend to me, Kaidan.”

“So have you, Liara.”

“So how about you Shepard?” Joker asked, sipping from his champagne. “You’re bound to have lots of great memories about Kaidan.”

“I was just thinking about our first date,” Shepard grinned.

“At Apollo’s?” Kaidan asked.

“Well, yeah. But also our first real date.” Kaidan raised an eyebrow, shook his head. “You know,” Shepard winked. “The Presidium hotel?”

Kaidan’s eyes got wide at the sudden recollection.

“God, Shepard!”

“Oh boy, this I don’t need to hear,” Tali laughed.

“What?” Shepard surveyed his guests with a look of mock indignation. “You’ve all got good memories of Kaidan, mine are just better.” He shrugged.

“It sounds very romantic,” EDI offered.

“Among other things,” Joker said. “What’s with all the memories, anyway? This is a retirement party, not a wake.”

“You were the one talking about death before!” Shepard retorted.

“I remember the first time I was introduced to your son,” EDI continued, undeterred. “I had never considered the idea of ‘family’ before. My crew were my family, as far as I was concerned. You told me that you and Shepard had been at a children’s charity and decided to become fathers. I found it strange, at first, that you would want to raise a child in a world that had been ravaged by the Reapers. You told me, Kaidan, that the future was coming one way or another, and we could either work to make it the brightest future we could, or else we could let it pass us by.” She smiled, “Thank you for teaching me that family are the people who make the future bright.”

“Thank you, EDI,” Kaidan said, voice thick with emotion.

“Come on,” Joker rallied. “Your turn, Kaidan. Speech!”

“Speech!” Garrus repeated.

Shepard nudged Kaidan in his ribs and Kaidan sighed.

“Well, I thought now that I was retired, I could finally be done with public speaking, but I guess one last speech won’t hurt.” He stood up, held his glass close to his chest. “There have been a lot of moments in my life that have really come to define who I am as a person, and I’ve been lucky to have people there for me every step of the way. I’ve had a pretty great life, had a lot more chances than I deserve…” he looked down, momentarily at a loss for words. He remembered a time long ago, when Shepard was under house arrest, where he wanted to finally confess his feelings, admit he was wrong, or even just fill Shepard in on his promotion to Major. He hadn’t done it, then, hadn’t spoken up. He decided to speak now. “I’ve raised some wonderful kids, I’m so proud of my grandkids. I married a great man. I’d like to think I did good work. I couldn’t have done any of it without the support of the people in my life. EDI, what I told you about family is still true, more than just my friends or my shipmates, you’ve all made my future a brighter place. You’re all my family.” He raised his glass. “It’s been a wild ride. Can’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.”

“Hear, hear!” Shepard said, standing and pressing a kiss to Kaidan’s cheek.

The old shipmates all stood, bringing their glasses together in the center of the gathering, clinking loudly. They talked long into the night, reminiscing on old times and filling one another in on new milestones. Tomorrow, Kaidan would start a new chapter in his life, and he was proud to be turning the page with these people.

[snowtamale]

Can you do some more staubrey for us? ‘When We Were Young’?

A/N: Again, not sure how it got so long. Also…if y’all stopped sending me angst adjacent prompts, I’d write happier stuff…maybe. This is in the Burn Notice verse (note: even if you’ve read that part before, I added a bit at the end…which I forgot to put in when I first posted the story.)

Berkeley, CA

1 year and 360 days ago

Honestly, Stacie is more surprised that going from an eco-terrorist group to witness protection isn’t more of adjustment. Witness protection has given her far more liberty than she had when she was running around disabling oil pipelines.  

She’s still not allowed any kind of social media accounts and she’s still not using the name her parents gave her. But now she can have a phone for longer than a week. She’s made friends in some of her classes, though she’s careful to keep them just at an arm’s length so that she doesn’t accidentally let anything slip.

So when her blocky, Nokia phone rings with an unlisted number, Stacie hesitates before she picks up. Her handler usually sends a text before he calls her.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Aubrey?” Stacie’s voice pitches upwards and she has to take a breath, before she asks, “how’d you even get this number?”

“It’s not important,” Aubrey responds, lowly, her words sharp.

Stacie huffs, annoyed at Aubrey’s usual dismissiveness. Still, she can’t help her elevated heart rate and the anticipation that runs through her body at the sound of Aubrey’s voice.

Her free hand flies to the chain around her neck, almost on instinct before she remembers what isn’t hanging off the end. Her stomach feels like it’s twisting in on itself and it’s all Stacie can do to keep her lunch from coming back up..

Aubrey sighs on the other end of the line and when she speaks again, her tone is softer,  “I’m good at what I do.”

“That still-“

“I don’t have-” Aubrey starts, desperate, almost pleading, “I just- I needed to hear your voice.”

“Aubrey.”

“And I needed to tell you that there isn’t anyone else, Stace. I don’t know why I let you think that there was.”

“Bree-“ Stacie breathes into the receiver, her stomach fluttering with the beginnings of hope.

“The ring,” Aubrey interrupts, sounding frazzled and nervous in an unrecognizable way, “that’s not why I-“

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Stacie reminds her.

“But I do,” Aubrey asserts, her voice measured, “I still care about you.”

Stacie doesn’t know how to respond.

She has no idea what she where she would begin, what to say to that. She’s spent the better part of the last five days drinking whiskey to forget about the lack of a ring hanging from her neck. She’s spent the last five nights wondering whose arms Aubrey’s found comfort in, hoping against all logic that one day, in the far future they would have something, anything, again.

“I’m sending you an address. If you-” Aubrey stops, finding the right words, before continuing, “I’d like to see you there if you want to come.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?“

“If you don’t, I’ll understand. But, I have to try.”

“Okay.”

There’s a click in her ear and Stacie pulls the phone away, staring at it as though it’s a foreign object. She tries to process everything she just heard.

Her phone chimes with an address not two seconds later and Stacie doesn’t hesitate to grab her car keys from the counter and starts driving.

-

The address leads her to a cemetery.

There’s a small crowd gathered around a casket under a large oak tree. Stacie keeps her distance, spotting Aubrey in the midst of the mourners almost immediately. Aubrey’s face is stoic, but Stacie can tell she’s near tears.

It’s only when the casket has been lowered into the ground and buried six feet deep that Stacie approaches the gravesite. Aubrey’s staring hard at the grave and she doesn’t notice when Stacie walks up next to her.

“You could have told me what I was walking into.”

“Stacie. You came.”

“You asked.”

Something flickers in Aubrey’s face at that and Stacie finally breaks their gaze, looking past Aubrey at some of the people around them..

“What am I doing here Aubrey?”

“The ring was my mother’s.”

Stacie frowns, her eyes snap back to Aubrey’s face. Aubrey’s attention is focused on the headstone of the new grave and Stacie finally reads the name on the headstone. Without a word, she wraps Aubrey into a tight embrace. Aubrey’s body weight sags against her and it’s all Stacie can do to keep Aubrey standing.

“Come on, we should go somewhere a little less…public.”

-

Stacie leads Aubrey to the nearest ‘fun’ place she can think of, a modestly busy ice cream parlor. Aubrey’s tears have mostly been wiped away and she even manages a small smile when Stacie asks for two cherries on top of the sundae.

“It was my mother’s ring,” Aubrey repeats, again, once they’re sitting at the counter.

“You said that already,” Stacie reminds her with a smile and a gentle hand on Aubrey’s arm.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Things were…complicated with her,” Aubrey admits slowly, “she wanted me be a normal girl, have a normal life. She wanted me to have a normal career, find a normal person, and settle down to have a normal family.”

Stacie nods, “she didn’t know what you do did she?”

“She thought I was a flight attendant.”

Stacie almost chokes on the bite of ice cream, “a flight attendant. Not a bad cover.”

“It worked,” Aubrey shrugs, absently digging into her side of the sundae.

Silence falls over them for a few moments and they just enjoy the ice cream between them.

“She liked you,” Aubrey reveals, studying the whipped cream on her spoon, avoiding Stacie’s gaze. “She didn’t know what you did, but she liked you.”

“You told your mom about me?” Stacie questions, unable to tear her eyes from the way Aubrey is licking the whipped cream off her spoon.

“You were one of the only honest things in my life,” Aubrey sighs, finally meeting her stare. “The way I felt- the way I feel about you- I never had to lie about that.”

A part of Stacie wants to lean forward and kiss the shit out of Aubrey. A huge part of Stacie wants to wrap Aubrey in her arms and never let her go. But Aubrey speaks again before Stacie can react,

“She loved hearing stories about you. She thought you challenged me, made me better. She was right.”

“For what it’s worth, you made me better too, Bree,” Stacie concedes, “I mean, you made me want out.”

“Do you think normal is a possibility for us?”

“What are you asking me?”

“I can’t ask you to wait for me but-“

“Aubrey- I’ve been waiting for you since that night in Texas.”

“I think I might want normal…with you.”

“We can have normal. You just have to come home.”

“Three months. At the most.”

“Three months.”

[austennerdita2533]

A/N: Okay, so. I couldn't stop thinking about time and how it could affect how Klaus and Caroline would relate to both themselves and each other prior to/after his near-death in 5x13. (Near-death because I reject canon in all forms. Self-care at its finest!) And this is what came out. (Post-TO Finale AU + Light angst + Fluff)

**Disclaimer: The first half of this is literary in nature. It’s written in a more removed POV, and while I usually save that kind of experimentation for my original writing, that's what wanted to come out. I also couldn’t seem to shut OFF the poeticism. So I went with it.**

GOD HELP US ALL BECAUSE THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN I WANTED IT TO BE BUT I’M OVER IT. 

Kudos to anyone who can guess which famous work/author I punned for my title, btw! Happy reading!

(A03) (FF.net)

xx Ashlee Bree

For When The Clock Chimes

The hands of time continued to turn because they could, because they brokered no resistance from anything in physics or grimoire magic. At least not to anyone’s knowledge.

It’s how they functioned. They existed to move, to tock away in subsequence. Their only purpose was to track the moments that the rest of the world took for granted or disregarded completely.

And so many people did: squandering each one with the flutter of an eyelash, or an exhale of the lungs that wouldn’t keep, couldn’t stay, their voices rubbing against the edge of a thought before they let the words fade into letters the mouth couldn’t spell or name out loud because it was too soon, too late, not right or so wrong. The look on someone’s face making a person swallow them all back down where they didn’t belong, and never could since the stomach refused to digest omissive lies in any shape, any form. They’d spurn back up to the surface with a rough lurch so it hurt. Scraping at silence until it stung. They’d burn the esophagus into disrepair the whole way like a warning that wouldn’t ground down or away. “Admit it or else, admit it or else.” Screaming bile into blisters because the truth shouldn’t cower in corners forever, and it wouldn’t. It’d always crawl back out because time waited for nothing. And no one.

Time wouldn’t wait for decisions to be made or listen to a voice as it begged “slow down, slow down; please, please, please won’t you slow down.” Wonderful things fluttered past in the same cadence as the awful, the sad, the loving, the wrenching, or as the missed opportunities which were impossible to reel backwards for someone who’d let them skip past like rocks already.

People probably always would overlook these moments. Waste them, too. So few of them wanted to hear how many more ticks they had left before the quality of everything in their lives diminished, or worse, ended altogether. Killing the future in ways that couldn’t be resurrected.

After all, who could bear to tally all the seconds as they fell? As they died?

Why would anyone want to capture the Before? Catching it, wrestling it into trapped silence with thumbs, knees blackening and blueing from too much squirming on top of it merely to preserve the faint sputters of oxygen it expended. As if such a thing could be rewound or duplicated so that Before’s clockwork stores were always full of hours one could revisit with a blank slate, a new page, yet would never need to be scribbled through with chipping chalk or passed by with a feeling of what could’ve been instead.

Only, that’s not how it worked. The past could not be rewritten. It could not be recalculated for a redo, either.

Why would anyone try to cling to this dream when the dust from the After was bound to choke a person with its grittiness again and again regardless of the promises it’d made to keep the throat clear and dry? Free of regret. Unspoiled by grief. Untainted by all those nasty ‘if’s’ that tasted like tarred feathers on the tongue.

Who would care to listen to each beautifully fleeting moment as it gusted away like a dandelion wish on the end of a swollen green stem? Who wanted the pleasure, the pain of cataloguing them?

How long before each second started to sound less like a soprano note in the fabric of infinity and more like static burnt deep into eardrums? Krshhhing with the noise that all middles made as they neared their endings.

When was it wrong to count the stones of time like precious particles no one wanted to throw away? When was it right to grasp them tight, not letting go? Not giving up. Never, never surrendering to bruises or the fight for more un-lived life.

What happened if someone didn’t? Wouldn’t. If one refused to pay out time in elapsing dividends because it was unfair, because the future currency one was already contracted was about to be stolen from out of pockets before it could be spent.

What happened, for instance, to a girl with a woefully devoted, often under appreciated heart which had been taken, broken, or disappointed one too many times to be able to forget how it felt to be denied - what ruin it wrought inside of her when something or someone left her alone again or far behind in a place where she couldn’t follow so that she was the only one who was missing out on everything she wanted? Everything she almost got, almost loved, but might not receive.

What did it mean when she clung to each peal over her head because a part of her was terrified this was the last bell of extraordinary she was meant to hear? To want. To almost reach out and touch. To nearly have it in the palm of her hands, obscured, but lost in a way that was about to be found. Making her feel strong and certain in herself at last - in them, too - her heart open, adrenalized, embracive of the teethy edges which were to chomp through one of her deepest chambers soon, not long from now. Marking her with a brand of unapologetic readiness, of confidence she owed to the creature she was today.

This girl didn’t need extraordinary on her own - not all on her own - but she desired it with this man here before her. She knew that without a doubt now. Just as he was set to disappear.

The only problem was this: she wanted him out there somewhere still living. Still existing like the constant he was, or came to be over these uncountable years. She needed him to stay a fragment of light that’d never fade, that’d never fall from its spot in the sky so she could see it always - with her eyes closed, soul stretched through every shadow or curve of darkness - so she could chase it with feet one day knowing he’d be there waiting for her on the other side.

It was imperative that his coming seconds continued to stretch. Bend. Twist. Multiply. Endure.

But what happened if the hands of time stopped revolving because they intended to sweep the constant of him away for good? How did she feel to know it was nearly over between them? The end? Their last moment? This goodbye becoming the most rotten she’d ever tasted on dry lips since they still thirsted for the hope of another kiss.

It might be the end of every possibility…

The dropping curtain….

The final eclipse…

The threads of a vanishing eternity plunging into a hole that would fray its edges like the snap of a coffin lid…

So what became of her? Of him? Of them and this nearly-something which never came fully to fruition?

What next? What happened after the clock froze with a loud ding to assault their ears, catching their hearts off guard when it resounded out loud into the night with one last chime? Because if they couldn’t reverse the ding above their heads at midnight, if this fate was impossible to prevent, then how come those clock hands halted like lungs holding in a breath before a sigh?

Pssst, let me let you in on a little secret:

Out of time is not where their story ended.

It’s where it stopped—

then started all over again.

Caroline loved to cycle through the city. Preferred it, really. Given the option, she always chose a spontaneous ride over an aimless or idle stroll through the streets when a wandering mood struck her, as one often did. Restlessness dug into her as deeply as fangs anymore; or had, more specifically, for the past three decades or so.

“You’ll hear no complaints from me over it. Wanderlust leads where it wants, where it must,” her companion often said before they kicked off from the curb near their home. “I’ve embraced it myself many times over the years, to be sure, so I have no qualms about following wherever it is it drives you next.”

“Good,” she’d nod, releasing the kickstand. “It’s comforting to know you intend to try and keep up for once, Lance Armstrong. Instead of, you know, tailgating my backside a few tire revolutions away. Like a creep.”

“What can I say? I’m fond of a good chase, especially one with as lovely a view as you.”

“You always were, weren’t you? Fond of chasing me, I mean,” she’d reply with an arched smile, the words soon blurring into an echoed look-back over her shoulder.

“And I will continue to be,” would come the un-ironic answer from somewhere close behind, “thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me, Bonnie, and a few Japanese grimoire spells, you mean,” Caroline would correct in that chirpy, heart-of-the-matter way of hers.

“Certainly. Whatever you say.”

Then off they’d jet together without another word: no particular direction or destination in mind.

As it was, kinetic motion made Caroline more comfortable with her place in the world seeing as how she could travel anywhere inside of it. And she longed to see everything now -  every town, city, country, continent; each day or night; the kinds of things nobody could dare to forget when one fought to remain aware. Alive.

She yearned to be everywhere and nowhere all at once these days, and cycling, she was. It’s why she loved it so much.

There was something about the feel of pedals flat against her soles, the bikey breeze cooling her skin before it blew tendrils loose onto the nape of her neck, the wheels beneath her spinning, screeching smoothly with speed as they weaved along windy, bus-trafficked roads or twiggy park pathways to gain that rush of adrenaline that clattered her teeth with joy. With freedom. Or maybe it was the way in which her butt bumped up and down on the triangular seat while a midsummer dusk descended with a multilingual hush over boats, which were docked bow-to-stern in the stilled green canals to her left, the day’s end cresting beyond the architectural diadem of the Tower Bridge as she continued her odyssey, then later, peaking atop the hedged copses and lush treetops in St. James’s Park to illuminate a family of ducklings as they paddled through the golden ripples. Or maybe it was how the moonlight reflected off rows of bricked homes in the borough of Bermondsey as her tires crunched gravel and debris to dust without slowing. It was in how everything whizzed by her in an indecipherable rush of buildings, cathedrals, faces, vibrated conversation, smogged tedium and bustle. Alerting her to the blended chaos of it all. Her ears buzzing with the familiar novelty of progression, of diversified populace and soon-to-be-digitized antiquity.

Caroline was hastened forward through the city, through a still-untapped eternity, by wonder. Diversion. Exploration. Temptation. Love. Each second tickling the hair in her nostrils as it passed before, then behind her.

The moving world around her became an anomalous combination of fast and slow, and the dichotomy thrilled her. It was something she could race alongside or immerse herself in by grasping the handlebar breaks - hopping off her bike with a swing of her leg to trot into a shop, a pub, an outdoor theater; dawdling along the choppy waves of the Thames with this man’s arm wrapped around her waist like it belonged there (and who’s to say it didn’t?) - but also something which she’d never be able to catch fully no matter how hard she tried. And Caroline was okay with that. She didn’t mind.

The truth was she relished a camaraderie with the world no one else besides the man next to her sensed, or understood, so it gave her the luxury to simply be. Feel. To open herself up to the unvaried rhythm of time as it carried them around every bend in this labryinth’d metropolis. Allowing her to bask in London’s steady changeability wherever she rode.

Caroline adored the taste of life rolling by her as her legs rounded harder, faster. Muscles burning with exertion. Slickened with sweat beneath her jeans, taut against her hamstrings.

She inhaled with eyes closed, breathing it all in without stopping: all the honking cars and laughter, the alcohol mixed with blood many tourists smelled of as they paused by some monument to snap a few Instagram photos, the clink of the Tube rails, applause within the Globe Theater, multicultural cuisine, fresh cheeses huddled within market stalls for selling, couples of all ages, pints of beer drunk in crowded avenues, the lift of a cyclist’s arm as she signaled to turn right, a full moon tacked to a twilight sky, music, tea and crumpets, a gentleman’s eye lingering on her legs too long to be accidental, the pruned sidewalk trees. Most of all, though, she reveled in Klaus’s easy proximity. His pride and contentment to be here, to be with her still (even if that meant flanking her rear sometimes), was more tangible than the kiss he left on her mouth at the last stoplight in Parliament Sqaure.

“How do you do that?” she said as they waited at the intersection with their foreheads still pressed together.

“Do what, love?” he asked.

“Make me want each new moment we share together to last forever.”

“My kisses are that potent? How lovely. I didn’t realize,” Klaus smirked.

Caroline shoved against his chest playfully, “Cut it out, I’m serious!”

“Say it again then.”

“No.”

“Come on, say it. Say it…please?”

Shaking her head, “You’re such a glutton for flattery, you know that? It’s exhausting. Seriously,” Caroline teased.

“Ah, but only when it comes from you, sweetheart. No one else. And just so we’re clear—” Reaching out with his hand to stroke her cheek then, his expression liquified, his irises gleaming with an affectionate blue blaze she’d come to recognize as hers, and hers alone. Klaus’s voice was deep, so much barer in emotion than he ordinarily liked to betray, “I’d gladly surrender it all to live in one such a moment of forever with you. I could pick but one, were it required. However, I‘m greedy so only if forced,” he added with a languid stroke down her spine.

“As could I, no doubt,” she smiled softly in answer, her lips poised near his ear and her fingers tangled in the necklaces at his throat. “Still, I’m glad we don’t need to choose.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Limitations suck, o’hybrid of mine. They leave us feeling stunted and starving to surpass them.”

“True, too true…”

“Plus, I’d rather have all of time ahead and behind us like we do now,” she said just as the cycle light changed to GO. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Truth be told, love, I just want us. This. You.” With a thumb hooked through one of her belt loops, Klaus shrugged while Caroline listened, “To hell with all the rest,” he said.

“And you’ll have me, okay? You absolutely will. I know it.”

“How?”

“Because we happen to have forever, you and I. We won back time, we got a second chance to sample everything the world still has to offer,” Caroline said with meaning before she leaned in to kiss him. “And there’s nobody dead or alive I’d rather spend it with…than you.”

After drawing away from his mouth then and settling herself onto her bike once more with a turn of the pedals, Caroline giggled because Big Ben cut in with its midnight song from Elizabeth Tower right as they disappeared back into the London night in unison, the clock hands illuminated almost in omen, or like a reminder gilded in moments that rang out with the words don’t waste me, don’t waste me. Which they didn’t, and never could again.

In fact, if the chimes of the near-death past had taught these two lovers anything, it was that they needed to chase and cherish every year, day, hour, minute, and second of eternity they were gifted because it wasn’t a given in this life no matter how “unkillable” or White-Oak-stake-prone one pertained to be. So chase and cherish is what Klaus and Caroline did. It’s how they chose to spend their passionate, nomadic existence for however long it coiled forward into the future. They loved it minute-by-minute, chime-after-chime…

Together.

[sleepy-sunlight]

Hello lovely! I absolutely adore and love your stories. If you have the time, could you do a post about Cullen's reaction if the Inquisitor were to stay behind in the fade during Here Lies the Abyss. (Feel free to use any prompt line you like) XD Keep up the amazing work!

 Awe thank you so much, I really appreciate it !! I’d be more than happy to do the request !! As for the prompt, I won’t be using any specific one but I hope that’s alright all the same!!

Anyhow, thank you again and have a spectacular day dear!! Enjoy!! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧

———————————————————————————————————–

The world had seemingly stopped the second you Rift opened and closed with you within.

At least for your Commander.

He hadn’t felt the world as it went on by without a care, the only sound forcing its way into his ears being the constant ringing trebuchets or his own soldiers, thundering on despite it all. Each one calling out his Inquisitor in their battle cries.

But you were nowhere to be found.

Yet when the rift opened once more, he felt his heart skip a beat and a smile tug at the corners of his mouth at the idea of seeing you, safe and sound.

But as he rushed after the tear as it shut, he was met with a pit dropping in his stomach. 

For you were nowhere to be found. 

Hawke and Stroud tumbled from the tear in the center, your companions staggering out only to scramble back after it even as it shut, shouting and yelling in their anger. 

“No!” Dorian yelled, clawing at the last strings at the closed Fade, his expression scrunched up in an utter horror the commander had never seen from him. “Open up! Someone else with that damned hand – anchor thing!” 

“There’s no one else Sparkler!” 

“I-I know that b-but there has to-” 

“Where’s the Inquisitor?” 

Cullen emerged forward, his brow furrowed and sewn into a scowl, trying to ignore how his thoughts became twisted with worries.

You were going to show up at any moment. 

You always did.

You had to.

Hawke rose to their feet, glancing forlornly between the horrified companions and Cullen, pinching the bridge of their nose. 

“Oh, Andraste’s blood this shouldn’t have happened, this should’ve never happened…”

“What’re you talking about?” Cullen further questioned, stepping closer, his fingers tightening frantically into fists. “Where is the Inquisitor?” 

“They… they stayed behind…” Stroud muttered, running his fingers messily through his hair, keeping his eyes low to the ground. 

“What do you mean?” Cullen felt his throat tighten, barely able to get the words out. 

They couldn’t mean you remained to die.

They couldn’t. 

Although as they looked to him, he felt his already trembling heart, begin to crack. 

“They stayed back Curly,” Varric murmured, trying his best to keep things light with the nickname, despite his own blurring eyes. “to fight that nightmare demon…” 

“What?” Cullen snarled, glancing among all of them in a terrified disbelief that appeared foreign to them in the commander’s face. “You can’t be serious! W-Why would they do that?” 

“You knew them better than anyone else,” Dorian scoffed, his shoulders slumping. “What do you think?” 

Despite his denial, he did know better.

Of course, you would do such a thing.

If you could, you were never willing to let others be hurt in your name, let alone die. You would always put yourself at risk first before the very idea of such a thing would come into play. 

From the very beginning, you were reluctant to even bring companions along for your adventures, constantly fretting or worrying at the slightest injury. It was a refreshing, precious thing to see in such a bleak time, but now, nothing short of damning. 

He’d recall the days after Haven’s destruction when he’d find you constantly tending to the wounded, going so far as to set the dying soldiers’ heads upon your lap, soothing them with soft lullabies and gentle herbs.

Even with being injured yourself you’d spend each second of your time searching for medicines or hunting for food, near passing out whenever given a chance to sit down. 

However this, this was on a whole different level. 

You had given up your life.

You had sacrificed yourself. 

You were dead.

How else could it have ended? 

At the very least you were ensnared in the Fade. 

And he could never see you again.

He felt himself trembling as the realization slammed into him, the air snatched from his lungs and body colder than ice itself. 

Were you in pain right now?

Were you suffering?

He threw up his head, contorted in denial and frustration as he drew his metal boots further into the ground, twisting to meet clusters of the troops. 

“No, there’s no way that’s true! There has to be some other way to reach them here!” He growled. “S-Some other rifts we missed must be hidden here! I want every able-bodied person searching! Go now!” 

“What good will that even do?” Varric approached him, the age upon him lined deeper and further than Cullen had ever seen. “The Inquisitor wouldn’t want anyone else going in after them to just get hurt!” 

“I will go then and I’ll bring them back!” 

“You are the last person they’d want going in there!” Varric snapped, crinkling his nose. “They’d want you to be safe! A-And happy!” 

Cullen paused, hesitating if only for a moment before that poisonous rage seeped back into him, as common as the blood that ran through his veins. 

“I hadn’t been either of those things in a long while,” He lowered his voice, hard and cold like crackled gravel. “but I was with them.I won’t give up on them, even if you have.” 

“You didn’t see it!” Hawke exclaimed, moving to the dwarf’s defense. “You don’t know how immense that – that thing was! It was bigger than all of us!” 

“The Inquisitor has taken down many things far greater than any of us! This isn’t the first and it won’t be the last!”

“Commander – Cullen, I know how much the Inquisitor meant to you,” Hawke began, setting a firm palm on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t make this harder on yourself.”  

He looked back at Kirkwall’s champion, swallowing hard as he kept his heart desperately fastened together through these hopes and fantasies of you being alive and well.

It was all he had.

He had to hold onto it. 

“No matter what any of you think, if there’s even a possibility that we could help or save them, we have to take it. After all they’ve done for us, it’s the very least we can do.” 

They let out a heavy breath, unable to meet his gaze as they spoke. “You love the Inquisitor, don’t you?” 

It didn’t even take a moment.

He already knew. 

“I… I do.” He nodded, backing away, a fond warmth blooming inside of him at the thought of you. 

It was all he had, and he couldn’ thelp but cherish it. 

“And whether or not it’s true… I need to know I’ve done everything I can,” He confessed. “They… they deserve that, don’t you think?” 

Cullen’s tone were barely above a whisper as if he could hardly bring himself to raise himself anymore. The exhaustion and unease practically drowning him at this point. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to stop shaking, constantly fidgeting in his attempts to stop, whether through his fingers tears in his tangles or fiddling with his hands.

Even if none of them said a word, he knew he wouldn’t relent.

He would search. Even if it was meaningless.

But for the life of him, he prayed it wasn’t. 

“I’ll help you.” 

He was snatched from his thoughts as Dorian met his gaze, a sort of meek hope replacing the dark glaze in his face before. 

“They’re… they’re one of the few people I have – at all,” He conceded, folding his arms across his chest. “If they need my help, I”ll gladly give it.” 

“… Count me in too.” Varric chimed, giving a small grin. “I owe them a lot. I think maybe saving their life might cover a bit of it.” 

Hawke and Stroud were quick to join along, a mixture of respect and guilt at your sacrifice motivating them. 

It wasn’t something anyone seemed to be truly confident of. Yet it had to be done.

For your sake, or for Cullen’s, no one was quite sure. 

But he would be lying if he were to say he didn’t feel at least feel comforted as they came to search vastness of Adamant. 

All of them searching for the familiar green light that held you within. The only questions being, if you could pry yourself out, or if someone could do so for you. 

No matter the cost. 

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch 23

"Last stop Express Town. Thank you for choosing PenCo Metro for all your space travels. We at PenCo value your time as customers and hope to see your lovely faces again soon. And hope you enjoyed your space traveling experiences with us." The few penguins that were on the metro along with Poppy, Cookie, and the girls excited the space train as it sat still in the giant tower like structure funnel that would take it back upwards to the moon. Passing a few other penguins and maybe an owl or two heading back towards it. "Attention boarding passengers. The Evening Express back to the moon will leaving within fifthteen minutes. Please be sure to have your luggage in hand when you board."

"Does he always have to say the same thing every time we use it?," Mu asked earning a slight frown from Cookie.

"That's his JOB. It's what he's supposed to do. Don't complain about him doing his job correctly."

Whelp. Here they were. Down on the planet finally and had real dirt under her feet.....Or sand. Really, REALLY hot sand. Blue eyes gazed around her at the scorching desert surroundings and the decently sized town of owls walking around. It looked as if she just walked into a western movie and stopped. There must've been at least a hundred and twenty different buildings if she was estimating it good enough from their spot on the hill. It was a decent sized town all right. Not too big. Not too small. But absolutely hot with the afternoon sun beating down on them and such. One gigantic building stood in the dead center of the town and it had a decent sized parking lot too. She was certainly more at ease and comforted at least. Express Town certainly looked more her time than the flashy neon lights of Moon City that's for sure. Smiling she followed along Cookie as the girls ran ahead of them a few feet giggling and playfully shoving at one another kicking up sand.

"This place looks pretty rustic," Poppy commented smiling. From the hill she could also see a set of train tracks leading into and away from the town and beside that was a train station. Everything just looked as it was in a western like town in her day. Not that she's ever been to one, but she did have relitives who did.

Cookie nodded in front of her watching the girls with a smile. "That there big building is the Dead Bird Studios. Most of the owls who live here work there or in the small shops around town. You see Conductor may be a little.....loud but he loves supportin' local shops here. He gets all his costumes from the famous clothing store nearby, and his coffee from Jukebox Cafe'. They have a delicious bird seed chocolate cappuccino...If you don't mind birdseed that is. My own little resturaunt is right across the street from the studios. I always wanted one, and thanks to the directors' generosity I finally did."

".....I think I actually saw one of this Mr. Grooves's picture shows now that I think about it." Her memory went to two night before while cleaning the attic and kitchen. She still couldn't sleep after a while and stayed up a bit watching something she couldn't remember fully on the television the girls left on.

"Oh really? Well Mr. Grooves certainly has a more flashier taste than Conductor but his are just as nice if you ask me," Cookie replied unbiased before looking over her shoulder at her. "The first place we'll stop by is Hawk's Eye Pawn shop."

".....Pawn shop?"

"It's kinda like a trading post. You trade things there for pons or bye somethin' they have on the store shelves."

Oh. So a trading post. She knew what those were alright, had one on the edge of the town she lived in. Where she got most of her furniture and goods actually. Following Cookie, they all went into the town of owls. And she got a good look at everyday life in a town of owls and birds. As soon they stepped foot in there she could see that everything was made a little taller thank goodness, she didn't feel like crawling through any more doorways and tunnels feeling awkward and big and clumsy. Funnily enough most of the houses they passed seemed to be nothing more than homes, if the stores didn't have open signs or display cases in their windows, she would've thought all of these were just more homes for these owls. And speaking of the owls, most were just walking around minding their own business, walking in or out of buildings, and Poppy even saw a few elderly owls in the comfy seats of rocking chairs on shady porches watching the world go by. The girls giggled and ran past them in a game of tag with Bow reaching her hand out trying to catch Hattie or Mu. And some of the old birds smiled at the energetic children. Poppy would admit they were definately a cute bunch as well. Still following the cat, Poppy lifted her arm up to wipe at her long bangs and forehead. It sure was hot, not surprising since it was a desert, but she hoped they'd get to this 'pawn shop' soon. And hoped it was cooler inside. The girls never got too far from them as they ran around kicking up dust and sand in their game as Poppy switched between watching them and looking around fanning herself. Where did they all get that energy? It was too hot to play in her opinion, and the weight of the gold in her apron was starting to hurt her neck and shoulders a bit. That was soon all solved when Cookie turned in front of an all brown wooden building and started up the steps leading into it. Of course Poppy and the girls following behind and running in. A small bell above the door rang out as the door was opened and Poppy sighed at the wave of cool air hitting them as they waltzed in. But was surprised at the stuff she saw. Calm guitar music played from a small radio in the corner as an owl held his head in his wing looking boredly at them from the desk, to his right was a register. All around the place was cluttered items jammed everywhere. From beds, to pots and pans lining the walls, to random objects she'd never seen before.

With a sigh the owl spoke. "Welcome to Hawk's Eye Pawn Shop, where we have a hawk's eye view for priceless and useful objects. Feel free to ask if you need any help.....or not, " he said in a flat tone. Giving Poppy the feeling of slight annoyance in her as she raised a brow. Luckily Cookie stepped in before anyone else could as the girls ran around looking at things like normal children their age did. Walking right up to the desk as the owl followed along lazily with his eyes as he stared at Cookie before rolling his eyes. "Hello, Ma'am. How may I assist you this fine evening?"

"Glad you asked." Cookie pointed over at Poppy. "My friend here has a lot of gold she'd like to trade in today."

"..Gold?" Immediately the owl's interest peeked as he chuckled and finally smiled at them, "Oh w-well this IS a surprise! Please come, come! You've come to the right place, Miss." He gestured for Poppy to come over and reluctantly she did as the owl rubbed his hands-....uh..Wings together and smiled widely at her. "Just allow me to measure it a-and we can get you your pons, Ma'am."

"Uh...Ok." She reached down to the larger pocket of the two and pulled out the heavy gold cheese wheel, it must've been fifteen pounds at least. She set it with a small thump on the table and the owl hooted in surprise at the large item she placed down. Blinking and gawking in surprise at the large thing. ....Which was followed by the trophy, and the potion bottle out of her large pocket. And then the Mafia statue, pencil, candle, gear, and cheese slice. The owl gawking at all the things laid out before him in pure gold glory. "There ya go. That's the lot of it."

The owl sputtered blinking at them all....Before reaching up to pull out a small magnifying device out of his breast pocket and picked up the golden candle. "T-T-This is!...INCREDIBLE!! I've never seen such fine craftsmanship in my life! AND IN PURE GOLD!! It's unmistakable! Pure. Solid. Twenty four carrot GOLD!!" He could almost FEEL the heat radiating off the candle, it almost looked like it could've been real at one point. He looked back at Poppy unbelieving. "W-Where did you ever aquire such beautiful items?!"

"Oh...I- Uh..." She had to think fast. She wasn't about to tell some stranger some magic alien potion turned these things into gold by some king roach. They'd think she was crazy. So why not tell the truth but a different truth. "My g-great granddaddy on my mama's side was a blacksmith. He worked with metal's all the time." Which was true. Her Great Granddaddy Silver Copper-field on her mother's side was a blacksmith.

"But we found them in the attic," Bow innocently chimed in tilting her head confused.

Mild panick flashed on Poppy's face. "Uh...W-Well people find all sorts of old things in their attics all t-the time!"

Which was another truth. But the owl seemed too enchanted by the items he rolled over his his hold to care about her nervous tone at all. "Well he must've been a fine crafter in his day. I've NEVER seen such beauty." He snapped up to her suddenly slamming his hands on the counter and leaning over making her jump in surprise and lean back. "I MUST have them! Won't you part with them! It'll make me the talk of the town for once besides those ratty directors!! I'll be the only bird in the world to have them!!"

Now Poppy could sense pretty well when some one was gonna fight being raised around a bunch of rowdy country folk that often fought over land and territory. And BOY! The way the two little girls and Cookie bristled at the comment the owl made sure did look like they were about to argue, but that was NOT what she came here to do. She wanted to get out and have a relaxing day seeing this new place, so thinking quickly she got between them and the owl smiling more than a greedy pirate. "Deal. But on the condition ya give me what I'm owed for it all, and the promise ya won't say a word about where ya got it from." She didn't need someone asking around in case.

He quickly agreed grabbed the gold one by one. "Oh I promise. I very, very promise. Hmhmhmhmhm!! Not one word out of me. After all I don't want anyone else to have one but me."

Poppy sighed and watched as with great difficulty the owl man just gathered up all the gold in his arms teetering and wobbling about as he went towards the left side of the counter. They all watched as he wobbled his way towards a large scale against the wall that reminded Poppy of the large scale the local banker used to have to measure her pons in whenever she went to put her savings in the bank, only much bigger. A few large clanging noises rang out as he dumped the gold into it and watched as the red arrow of the scale tipped until it measured-

"F-F-Fifty two pounds!," the owl gawked at the scales before giving a thoughtful look. "Let's see. Minus tax on gold fifty two equals up too about....." His eyes widened and he suddenly let out a hoot gripping the feathers on his head. "F-F-Five thousand pons!!"

"Oh....Do you not have that m-many pons?"

"Uh..." The owl nervously looked between her and the statues. "N-No. J-Just a little over half of it. B-B-BUT I-I C-CAN OFFER A TRADE!!" He quickly pointed around the cluttered place, as if nervous to lose the precious gold he so desperately wanted. "I-I can pay half and trade for the other! W-Whatcha say?"

Poppy stopped for a minute. Looking around the cluttered place with a raised brow, and gazing over everything slowly. That wasn't a bad idea actually. Since she could use some knew things once she gets settled on her own again and didn't need anymore help. And getting stuff for free? Now they were talking! Maybe this was the universe paying her back for all her troubles and hard work finally! Smiling she happily agreed to the deal much to the Owl's delight and he quickly scrambled about to grab all the pons he needed for the trade from a giant vault in the back and they began searching. Well, the girls found lots of little knickknacks like small toys and for Bow a large sunhat with a pretty blue bow on it and how could Poppy say no to that? Well, the red head wasn't going for any random fancy stuff like antique clocks or any other fancy thing right now. But considering $2600) was a lot of pons to trade for, she could spare them to choose a bunch of things for themselves. But looking among some used exercize bikes she found a few things she was really looking forward to see again. What else but some good old fashioned farming tools? A rake, gardon hoe, pitchfork, shovel combo! She hit the giant jackpot!! Smiling as she dragged the old things out of the dusty corner and examined them. They looked to be in good condition. Rusty and dusty, but a mighty fine condition if ya asked her.

"Uh. Ma'am, are you sure you want those?," the owl said leaning back over the counter staring, "T-Those are antique farming tools that were just dumped in the corner. No one would want them.

"I sure do!," She said smiling back at his confused face, "They're just what I needed.

"Well...Y-Yes, t-t-they're in great condition for three hundred year old tools. That's why they're here, they could run in the thousands. Are you sure you want to waste your time with them?"

"Yep!" She Heaved all of them over one of her shoulders with a smile. "I got a plan for these babies. You just keep counting the pons."

"Ok. If that's what you want. It'll be nice to get them out at least," he mumbled to himself ducking back behind the counter.

Continuing looking around a little bit, Poppy managed to find a gold club bag along with her search and stuck her new tools into it, slinging it over herself and able to carry about her new beauties easier. Turns out those tools and the old antique stove Cookie kept looking at. Poppy saw the way she kept longingly staring at it every few minutes of looking around and gladly said she'd take that for her friend here. Cookie insisted she didn't have to but Poppy's mind was already made up anyways, as stated she didn't need that much pons leftover to trade back here again anyways. And she deserved it for all the kindness she had shown Poppy a complete and utter stranger. Well it turns out the knick knacks Hattie stuffed in her hat, (just random things like a few teddy bears, jewelry, a grappling hook, and anything else a girl like her would enjoy) combined with the old stove and it's set, along with those old tools were just enough to cover the other half but she did have to fork over another 100 pons to cover the extra 100 pons the tax came out to be. The bag she was handed wasn't really big, about maybe a small decent sized pumpkin and weighed about as much as a large house cat did. And that went into her large apron pocket for safe keeping while slipping the gold back of farming tools over her. She still had $2,500 to spend. And that was quite a lot of pons especially. Luckily the things weren't as expensive as made out to be. But that did leave another question, what were they supposed to do now? Luckily Cookie had a fantastic idea after seeing the way the uh....tacky dress Poppy was wearing and had the idea for them to stop by the local clothing store much to the children's protest about how boring it was going to be. So they once again found themselves leaving the greedy owl to fond over his new prized possesions and left back out into the hot sun. Resuming their routine of Poppy following behind Cookie as she lead them down the street to wards the far side of the town as the kids ran around again chasing one another. The only difference was Bow was using one hand to keep that giant sun hat on her head now as she went around running after the first two. Poppy still couldn't figure out how Hattie kept all those things in her hat. Alien magic?

"You'll adore this lil shoppe," Cookie happily told her giving a bright grin, "They're real experts at fancy sewing. You see they make most of the costumes for the studio and the directors' movies."

"It sounds like this whole town thrives on that place huh?," Poppy stated giving a look around the old buildings and many owls walking by.

"Oh, this town has been here for quite a long time with the studios," Cookie corrected, "It's only until recently that business really thrived for lacol birds. In the less hotter winter seasons, people come from all over to get a glimpse at the two kooky canaries running those studios. Means Conductor gets some extra business running his train too, he likes to say more budget for his movies come from it."

"Wow. Really?" So this place was some kind of famous spot because of this Mr. Grooves and Conductor, whoever they might be. From what she's heard of them so far, they seemed really nice supporting local business and bringing in so many customers. And she had no reason to not trust Cookie so far. A smile graced her face when he spotted the girls run a little ways ahead of them and caught an earful of their giggles. That was until one fell over. It was just a small rock hidden in the sand that she didn't see, but that didn't stop Bow from tripping over it and faceplanting the sand, knocking up some sand in her crash. Poppy and Cookie both gave a small gasp of surprise and Poppy instantly ran over to her, metal tools clanking together on her back. Hattie and Mu had stopped hearing the thump in the sand from behind them at Bow's faceplant and watched as the curly haired girl pushed herself up. Bow laid there unmoving for a few seconds but by the time Poppy got over there to kneel next to her, she had pushed herself up crying a bit with her eyes shut and spitting out more sand from her mouth. Sun hat falling off her head as she did. Two hands grabbed her and turned her around to face the worried face of the red head as she looked her over. "What happened? Are you alright, Sweetheart?"

"My eyes burn!," Bow cried reaching her balled fists up to wipe at her face but was stopped by Poppy pulling them away.

She sighed. "Well don't rub them, you probably just got some dirt in your eyes needin' ta be flushed out." Looking around she spotted an outside water pump fountain like the one her old home hand and without another thought picked up the tiny girl and stood back up. Bow still crying at the stinging and wrapping herself around Poppy's shoulder as she walked. "Oh hush now. All you need is to rinse it out with a lil water and you'll be right as rain!" She carried Bow over to the small pump across the street and pried her off to set the small gal down in front of the Nozzle. "Now I'm going to pump some water out, and I want you to start rinsing out those eyes and mouth of yers. Ok?" Bow sniffed still crying small tears down her face and Poppy grabbed a hold of the pump handle. Pushing n pulling it up and down to summon the water underneath. A garbling sound came from the pipe's inside and with a pop sound, cold water burst out from the pipe and sprayed the small child in the face. Bow jumped in surprise at the sudden cold water on her but sputtered and swiped at her face and the stream of water hitting her. After a few more seconds of it, Poppy stopped and allowed the strong stream to trickle slowly before stopping completely. She watched as Bow turned her cheek the other way and spat out a mouthful of water, coughing and wiping at her face. Now all soaking wet. She rubbed at her eyes for a moment before blinking her eyes open and looking up with red eyes. There we go. Now that she could see, her eyes would be irritated for a lil bit, but it wouldn't be worse than just someone suffering from a bit of hay fever. "There we go. All better."

....Bow sniffed and blinked. Wiping one eye with her hand and looking down at herself, her other hand grabbing her white jacket. "Now I'm all soaked and cold."

"Uh...Yeah." Poppy rubbed her head. "Kinda figured the sun would dry ya out, but I guess I can buy ya a new dress while we're at this here clothin' store.''

"...*sniff* Really?"

"Absolutely." Walking back over, Poppy bent down and repicked Bow up into her arms letting the little girl grab onto her. "We'll get ya a nice pretty dress that'll make you look like a darlin' lil princess!...Well more of a princess than you are already."

Bow smiled again sniffing and Poppy smiled at her...But paused when she heard someone else awing at them from behind and when she turned around there was a pair of old birds on a shady porch right behind them. The old birds were smiling at them from their rocking chairs like what they were seeing was the most precious thing in the world. "It's so nice to see such a responsible and caring young mother these days," one of them spoke smiling widely, "Your daughter looks like a darling little one."

......Poppy blinked. "Mother? Who me?" She pointed at herself with her free hand before shaking her head. "O-Oh! No, no! I'm not her mother! I'm just watching her for someone I know!"

"Oh, that's too bad. You would make a lovely mother for the dear."

Poppy chuckled nervously but Bow seemed to be looking at her with a strange look. "My...Mother?"

Giving a small thanks Poppy quickly excused herself from the watching eyes of the old birds and back over to Cookie who was waiting for them with the other two children. Wiping dust from the pretty sunhat and looking up at the soaked child in her arms. "Well. I can see we'll be needing to take care of that while we're in there too."

Poppy gave another nervous chuckle but grabbed the sun hat, handing it back to Bow who gladly plopped it back onto her head. Well, guess they weren't going to wait on getting this lil gal some dry clothing. Following Cookie the rest of the way there, they all came across possibly the girliest lookin' store Poppy had ever seen. It was all painted pink and white and had flowers in window pots. Well seeing those cute lil things made her smile at least, she always loved flowers. Above a sign was nailed above the door reading Mrs. Talon's Fabric Shoppe. Guess they were going in when Cookie walked right on up without a second thought so naturally Poppy and the children followed suit. A bell above the door rang like before and thank PECK it was another building big enough she didn't have to crawl through to get there. Upon entering it was the same pink and white themed as the outside. Along the walls was shelves upon shelves of fabric, balls of yarn and threads of all colors, sewing machines for sail along with smaller kits, and anything else one would need for making clothes. Such as buttons, sequins, patches, and books of patterns or techniques. Poppy noticed there was also a giant pink curtain in the back and next to that was a rack of already made dresses with a sign that said 'discount bin half off'. In the very front of the store was a white counter, and a lady owl wearing a floral dress with glasses that made her eyes look too big for her face, but unlike the first owl this cashier welcomed them all with a smile and friendly voice.

"Good Evening, Customers! Welcome to Mrs. Talons! Here we tailor to creatures large and small," she replied in a high pitched tone, "How may I-...I-I..." Her impossibly large eyes went wide seeing the crew of five girls waltz in as Poppy closed the door shut with her foot. "I-....I DON'T BELEIVE IT!!" She suddenly squealed startling the red head woman into almost dropping Bow and blinking at the pig like squeal before the owl lady leaned over the counter looking at Cookie. "I DON'T PECKING BELIEVE IT!! THE COOKING CAT IS IN MY BOSS'S STORE!! M-Ma'am I'm your b-biggest fans! My owlets love your deep fried worm and rice recipe!" Cookie didn't even seem fazed as she chuckled and waved. Making the more owl all the more nervous at having the cat celebity in her store. "H-How may I help you, Ms. Cat?"

"Please. Call me Cookie." Cookie pointed at Poppy still holding Bow in her arms. "We got a youngin' who's in need of some dry clothes and a fashion emergency if I say so myself."

The owl looked up at the two humans adjusting her glasses and frowning at Bow's soaked clothes and the absolutely ghastly amount of tacky lace and fake rubies studded to the collar of Poppy's dark blue dress. Not a good mix, it looked like she was a desperate rich lady trying to play the part of princess. "Oh...I certainly see why. Well, unfortunately with my boss away currently working on a large order for Mr. Grooves, I can't offer anything except for the designs left out from last year's tourism season." She gestured a wing over towards the bargain bin and Cookie slightly frowned at the limited suppy.

"Are you sure you can't make one?"

The owl shook her head. "Sorry, Ma'am. For you I would in a heartbeat, but I'm just the cashier. I ring people out and offer assistance if the customer has questions. The only tailors are my boss and her assistant and they're already away on a giant order call. But if you're interested we do provide everything you need to sew yourself."

"That won't be needed," Poppy cut in slowly lowering Bow to the ground and standing back up and walking to the bargain rack, "I ain't the kind of picky prissy gal a lot of folks I knew was." Walking up right to the rack she skimmed through the options of dresses available and to be honest most were plain day to day dresses without any patterns, but that suited her just fine. She wasn't real picky when it came to clothing as long as it fit ok and it didn't look like the ghastly thing she was wearing so she just grabbed a few random dresses off the bargain pile that was the same size she was wearing. A plain all pink and green one. One that was all white with purple flowers all over it. Another green one with a picture of a kitty cat in the middle of it. And just a purple one with some kind of black vine pattern. Looking back up, she noticed Cookie writing on a piece of paper as the owl excitedly watched, and she gave another small squeal when Cookie handed whatever it was over to her. How strange. Two of the girls were boredly bouncing some yarn balls...Where was- She got her answer when Bow pushed past her and reached up to rummage of her own accord, after a moment pulling out the only thing they seemed to have in a child's size. A bright orange dress with a single daisy on it's front. Her cringe made Poppy chuckle a bit and reach down to pat her head. "Hey. May not be the most pretty, but it's just til we get back an' then you can wear anything ya want. Alright?"

She didn't look happy but relented. "Fine."

"That's my girl!" She gave bow a smile as the little girl blinked and gave Poppy a confused look as she walked to the counter dresses in her arms.

"Your girl?"

Well, the clothes were bought. Which equaled up to about fourty six pons for all of the dresses including Bow's which she changed into behind the curtain. She was dry now but she didn't look like it stomping out and staring at her clothes in disgust. Well with two more bags in hand, one for her new dresses and one for Bow's, they excited the store and the girls were glad to not be coped up in there anymore except for Bow who followed the first two with crossed arms as the adults followed out.

"Come back anytime! Thank you for your purchase!," the cashier called out behind them and Cookie waved back.

"Ya seem to be well known, Huh?," Poppy asked the cat and Cookie shrugged.

"Lots of folks enjoy my work. Who am I to complain?"

"Touche." Poppy sucked in a deep breath and looked out into the world around them with a smile. "Man it's good to see ground that ain't littered with ghosts! But I wish it wasn't so hot!"

"Well this is a desert." Cookie smiled at Hattie chasing Mu around the two using Bow in the middle as a barrier from each other. "But they don't seem to have a problem with playin' anyhwere."

Poppy shrugged. "Doesn't surprise me with what I've seen. But I am surprised they aren't thirsty."

Cookie turned to her. "Why? Are you?"

"Well. A lil bit. When's the next ride back to the moon again?"

"Uh...Well I believe it's just a lil bit past noon, ya'll have to wait for the night train at ten o' clock."

Poppy snapped her head to her with a surprised face. "Wha- THAT LATE?"

"Well it IS the night train for a reason Sugar. But tell ya what, I'll treat ya'll to some real good food at the Jukebox cafe while ya wait." She started stepping towards somewhere else and Poppy slowly followed after.

"Oh no. You don't have to. It's alright."

"And let you eat nothing but a cheese wheel and apples?," Cookie shook her head, "Oh no, no. That wouldn't do at all."

"Ain't there a market or tradin' post with food in these here parts?," Poppy asked back making Cookie chuckle nervously.

"Well....Yes. B-But since everyone in town are actually birds, they don't really sell food catering to humans or many other species except for coffee and what's served in the cafe's since those places get to see more of a diversity especially when tourism comes a callin'. Otherwise it's bird seed, worms, insects, some fruit, and anything else birds eat. Most of what else they get is ordered from the city a couple miles away or mafia town. "

"Oh great. Guess it's cheese and apples for supper tonight then." Her stomach growled and she placed a hand to it shyly making Cookie chuckle.

"Don't worry. I'll send ya'll home with some left overs from mah kitchen set at the-...." Poppy suddenly stopped mid step body completely frozen as if she was paused in the middle of a movie and Poppy almost stepped on her tail stopping just in time. Cookie suddenly grabbed her fuzzy cheeks with a frown. "Oh no!"

"What's wrong?"

"I left my handbag at my set in the studios! My bird passport and wallet's in there, it let's me get free supplies from the cafe with the reward points."

"So...That means?"

"We're going to have to make a pit stop at the studios before anyone eats."