#Should I just write a fanfic at this point ?

[brigitoshaughnessy]

I am literally going to answer all of these? I have no secrets.

1. what's the best advice you've ever been given?

Don’t think about which option you should choose today. Think about what regrets you’ll have in the future based on each choice.

2. what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

Spiraling anxiety

3. what is your favorite way to self care?

Sitting in a dark, quiet room by myself OR taking a vacation by myself.

4. tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

Ehh, I don’t know that any are more vivid. I tend to live more in the present and for the future than in the past. I don’t like to dwell, probably because most of my vivid memories are traumatic. I.e., my parents deaths, my fiancées death, my brothers death… etc.

5. if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

I would have spent more time drawing.

6. what is something that you've always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

Sky diving

7. what is your fatal flaw?

Overthinking to the point of self-defeatism. Think of Marvin in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

8. what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn't?

Criticism

9. do you cry? why or why not?

Yes. When I disappoint those close to me.

10. tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

I am a non-technical person in a technical job. I’m faking it, but no one knows.

11. tell me about your last failed friendship.

My husband (no filter) told a friend of mine that I thought he was neglecting his dog. My friend was livid that I hadn’t told him directly.

12. who do you wish you could connect with but haven't been able to connect with?

My last surviving immediate family member. We have never clicked.

13. what can make you excessively angry?

Injustice & memes that over simplify complex issues & the plebs that make the memes their life’s philosophy.

14. do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

No. I’m very sensitive to criticism and having attention drawn to me. I get embarrassed very easily.

15. do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? Why?

Numb. Excessive emotion has been negative emotion in my life experience.

16. what is a skill or talent you've completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

Guitar. I picked up writing fanfic again. Im a serial hobbyist.

17. what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

Purple… and I no longer have one.

18. what is something you can't bring yourself to get rid of?

My parents wedding rings.

19. tell me something you don't like telling the people you are close to.

That they could do better at something. I manage for work so it’s difficult to feel that I’m a manager of people personally.

20. tell me what you think others think about you.

Probably that I’m a know it all who thinks she’s too clever. But hopefully, also that I care about people, and can set aside my premonitions to be present when someone needs me.

Reblog with your answers (or just one or two) if you care to share. I love learning about all of you. :)

deep asks that get uncomfortably personal

what’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?

what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

what is your favorite way to self care?

tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

what is something that you’ve always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

what is your fatal flaw?

what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn’t?

do you cry? why or why not?

tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

tell me about your last failed friendship.

who do you wish you could connect with but haven’t been able to connect with?

what can make you excessively angry?

do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? why?

what is a skill or talent you’ve completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

what is something you can’t bring yourself to get rid of?

tell me something you don’t like telling the people you are close to.

tell me what you think others think about you.

[pinkolve]

A Missing Lunch and Soft Kisses

Summary: Your boyfriend forgets his lunch at home so you decide to bring it to him.

Genre: Fluff only!

CW: A bit of social anxiety on reader's part, first person point of view, use of y/n, a little ooc Aaron Hotchner, a few little kisses <3

Word Count: 556 (very short, sorry!)

A/N: I wrote this really quickly just to have the motivation to post more stories here, so pardon any mistakes or poor word choice! Let me know if I missed anything that should be a CW, and if you'd read more fanfics written by me!! (I promise I usually write longer stories than this.)

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

I walk out of the elevator, looking through the glass doors that await me. There’s a brown paper bag in my hand and my bag is slung over my shoulder. I’ve never met any of Aaron’s coworkers, I’m nervous as to how the first impression will go. I originally wasn’t supposed to be here, this was never planned. Aaron and I haven’t even started planning an occasion for us to meet. If only he had remembered to bring his own lunch, I wouldn’t be here. 

I push open one of the glass doors and walk through. No one looks my way which is already a weight off my shoulders. I completely expected everyone to immediately stare at me, like they did in highschool when someone was late to class. I shiver at that memory. 

I start to walk past some desks and avoid any gazes sent in my direction. I obviously don’t recognize anyone. The nightmare is almost over as I reach the steps leading to Aaron’s office. I knock and wait for a response. 

“Come in!” He orders. I push open the door and watch as his face lights up at the sight of me. I push the door closed behind me. “Y/n! How are you doing, sweetheart?” He walks over to me and kisses my forehead, resting his hand on my hips. 

“You forgot your lunch.” I smile as I lift up the bag in my hand. 

“Thank you for bringing it all the way here.” He grabs it from me. “You know you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I couldn’t just let my man starve, now could I?” I blush at my own words. 

“Mm, how thoughtful of you.” He hums before kissing me again, longer this time. A knock interrupts us, pulling us apart. 

“Yes?” Aaron calls out and the door opens. His hand is still on my waist. 

“Hotch, I found-” A bubbly blonde woman stops mid-sentence. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you had company!” 

“Don’t worry about it, I just came to drop off his lunch.” I respond.

“Ah, well, it’s wonderful to meet you! I’m Penelope.” 

“I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you too!” 

“How have I never met you before?” She asks. 

“You know Aaron, he never tells anyone about his personal life. He’s been keeping me a secret for a couple years now.” I whisper. Aaron groans at me. 

“Honey, I was not ‘keeping you a secret.’ No one asked me anything about my love life so I never mentioned anything.” 

“Whatever you say.” I shrug. He rolls his eyes at me and smiles. 

“Do you ever believe anything I tell you?” 

“Depends on what it is.” I smirk up at him. I look back at Penelope and her eyes are wide. Her mouth hangs open as she stares between us both. 

“Are you two…?” She finally asks. 

“Yes, Garcia. We’ve been together for two years now.” Aaron chuckles. Penelope’s face stays the same. 

“Excuse me, I have to go talk to…Someone. Bye!” She practically runs out the door. I look at Aaron with a puzzled look. 

“She’s about to tell everyone in the bullpen about this whole thing.” He smiles. 

“She doesn’t seem like a very good secret keeper.” 

“Trust me, she is not.” He laughs, placing another gentle kiss against my lips. 

[ninadove]

AO3 reading year in review 📚

Tagged by @teafig! Here’s a fraction of the fics I enjoyed this year! 💖

JANUARY: Of Wishes and Feathers by @trishacollins {Miraculous 🦚}

Little Felix spends an afternoon being entertained by his aunt.

Trisha wrote this for me because I am the most spoiled girl in the world! 💜 We need more Felix and Emilie in the world urgently. Someone make it your 2025 resolution. I demand it

FEBRUARY: my wings and my eyes by @bittersweetresilience {Honkai: Star Rail 🚂}

Jing Yuan is tired, but he has been tired for a long time now.

Sunny gets February for no reason other than it is Official Shipping Month and its prose single-handedly got me into Renjing. This fic in particular is so loving and tender… 🥺 There is nothing Sunny cannot write and these two idiots have helped prove it time and time again!

MARCH: I miss you more than anything by @sillyangstfic {Miraculous 🦚}

Felix reaches out to Adrien a few months after his mother's death to see if he would like to come visit. Adrien thinks that this is a great idea! Gabriel, not so much.

This was not yet published in March but WHO CARES THE VIBES FIT. Felix cares so much and the Adrien/Dandelion angst is, as the youth say, fire 🔥

APRIL: thirteen by @anna-scribbles {Miraculous 🦚}

The house was never something that belonged to him, and it still isn’t, no matter how many documents boast his name in bold print. Adrien has always belonged to it, though, like a dog tethered to a chain, like a ghost to its unfinished business.

//

The end of the world began on the day Adrien Agreste turned thirteen years old.

What can I say about thirteen that hasn’t already been said? I picked it for April because reasons, but it’s been a highlight of my entire winter and spring. The Adrien Fic Ever 🌼

MAY: love thorns all over this rose by @thevioletthread {Miraculous 🦚}

there's a boy knocking on her window. she lets him in.

[Doodles a tiny heart on your window]

[Kisses you in front of the sunrise]

[Gets down on one knee]

Alexandria, will you raise a hamster with me? 💜🦚❤️🐉

JUNE: Of Broken Bones and Promises by @bright-thehawksflight {Cyrano de Bergerac 🪶}

Christian had a leg amputated, and the two loves of his life manage to simultaneously save his life, plan for the tough times to come, and pine all over the Arras battlefield.

Lisa is the reference when it comes to Cyrano and Greek mythology fanfics. I think about the amputation-hug scene three times per week 🥺

JULY: Candle In The Wind by @phieillydinyia {Miraculous 🦚}

Someone was screaming. A horrific, guttural sound that infected the entire night with sorrow. He wondered if it was the ghosts of the people he'd just killed. He wondered if they'd come back to haunt him, to follow his every waking move, to never let him forget the way he'd demolished them into dust.c

The sound pounded through his head, threatening to burst open his eardrums, determined to push him to a breaking point. Collapsing to his knees, Chat Noir had to pause to draw in a deep breath.

It was only then that he realized the person screaming was him.

The highlight of my summer! A role reversal AU of the movie that includes the songs. How cool is that. (The answer is very cool. Mwah 💖)

AUGUST: If I hold you too close by @bbutterflies {Miraculous 🦚}

Paris didn’t come to a screeching halt for akumas anymore. They were so commonplace, so frequent, no one stopped their lives unless they were in danger. They trusted the heroes to fix everything if something did go wrong, save them if they got hurt. Adrien was still fighting the urge to find Plagg and go running into battle.

Plagg wasn’t here, though.

ADRINO ANGST MGRRRGRRRRR

SEPTEMBER: Luminous strike by @faiirygrahamdevanily {Miraculous 🦚}

Orders controlled the younger twin

Like a bird with a clipped wing

Silver metal out of his hand

The peacock at the monster's command

MY BIRTHDAY GIFT!!!! THAT CAME WITH ITS OWN MOODBOARD!!!! HELL YEAH!!!! 🎂💜🎉

Everyone should check Clara’s works out!!! The Sentikids are great for exploring themes of otherness and rarer forms of fanworks, and she does it extremely well! ❤️💜💚

OCTOBER: the monster who loves you by @purplecatghostposts {Miraculous 🦚}

Mum nods, clapping her hands together. “Your brother is finally feeling better and is coming home today! Isn’t that so exciting?”

Félix pauses mid-bite, processing her words. Mum waits expectantly, as if expecting him to jump for joy, or his equivalent of it.

But… Félix doesn’t have a brother.

(Or Félix’s brother is a monster, but only in the most literal sense. Félix’s father is a monster despite being very, very human. He learns to navigate the world through these two truths.)

SOAP SOAP SOAP SOAP I am eating you. I am eating you forever. You spontaneously appeared in the tags one day and literally haven’t stopped blessing us since but THIS FIC IN PARTICULAR. OH GOSH. OH WOW. THIS ONE IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. You know how much I love Adrien being cast as the monster (rawr rawr rawr 🦖)

NOVEMBER: Emmy Altava and the Situationship from Hell by @drowsybadger {Professor Layton 🎩}

Or: Clive, Janice and Their Mutual Ex. Or: Emmy Altava and the Great Year that started off really, really, awful. Or: How To Overcome Your Past Mistakes

Basically, 22K words of people fixing their past mistakes and being lovingly awful to each other. Also, Clive is single-handedly responsible for London rent prices actually being affordable for the next half-century in this universe.

Drowsy infected me with the Clivejan QPR bug… My life has never been the same since…

DECEMBER: Me and You, We're Roses of Blue by @adastra-rising {Miraculous 🦚}

For centuries, the blue rose has represented mystery, royalty, and that which is unobtainable.

Why?

Because the blue rose is artificial. Unnatural. So close to being real, but not quite. The unfortunate, disappointing result of humanity daring to challenge the natural order.

And for some reason, Felix Graham De Vanily can't stop thinking about it.

Meanwhile Kagami Tsurugi, despite everything, thinks they are wonderful.

And Adrien Agreste, who prefers his roses red, is just here for a good time.

(A story in which Felix reflects on his childhood, his relationships, and the nature of what's artificial and what's real.)

(Alternatively, a story where the ideal date is destroying a dead man's property in the name of art, and two cousins who are actually brothers' bond over one truly terrible joke.)

Because excellent characterisation and flower imagery are always a gift! 🌹

SPECIAL MENTIONS

Aka works that didn’t quite fit but that I really wanted to feature:

Icarus by @dragongutsixofficial {Dumas Cinematic Universe ⚔️}

The year is 1630. The Cardinal of Richelieu won. Mme de Fargis is banned and has to leave the Court.

She has a few people to say her goodbyes to.

DRAGON STARTED WRITING AGAIN THIS YEAR AND I COULDN’T BE PROUDER. They have a real talent for emulating Dumas’ style while making the story uniquely theirs! 💖

time marches back by @asukiess {Miraculous 🦚}

The Loveybug AU was one of the highlights of 2023-2024, and this fic? This fic. It’s great, man. Definitely won’t break your heart or anything.

Everything in The Félix Zine! I have a particularly soft spot for @mostmagical’s Bridges and @nemaliwrites’ A Graphite Heart, but everyone slayed so incredibly hard! Please also contemplate our amazing artists’ pieces! 💜🦚

@beezonia’s Miraculous Mons AU. Bee, you know it, I’m the target audience for this universe. I love your ficlets, your team line-ups, your designs, everything! 💙🩵🧡

cringe origional works collection by @isdisorigionalenoughforyou

The kind of poetry that will haunt you. Discovered by accident after reading their Aroace Analysis of Jayvik, which you should also check out! 🦋

And my beloved AO3 collections (recs + my own works):

Felix | Adrien | Kagami | Senticousins | Feligami | Clive | Literature and mythology

Tagging… anyone who wants to do this, because I forgot who was and wasn’t tagged by my fellow writer friends. Go wild.

Happy 2025, everyone! May it be kind and filled with excellent stories for us to share! 💚💜❤️

[kamaluhkhan]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 14.6k summary: you and vi are both tired of complicated relationships so try the whole friends-with-benefits thing....and maybe forget the whole point of your arrangement in the first place. warning: lesbian situationships (there is so much angst and yearning), brief mention of (internalized) homophobia and struggles with addiction....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and smut [oral (vi receiving), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, slight bondage play, switch!vi has my heart] (18+) ! a/n: merry (belated oops) xmas girls and gays <33 i've probably spent way too much time on this but it's my BABY....kinda based on leighton and alicia's plotline in s1 of sex lives of college girls and ofc casual by chappell roan (there are many other chappell references throughout too hehe). also yes i made a mini playlist that consists of the songs that i think reflect this fic's sun, moon, and rising signs....pls enjoy and happy holidays !!!

♪: "angel baby" by troye sivan (sun); "pretty girl" by hayley kiyoko (moon); "casual" by chappell roan (rising)

“not even one week into the new academic year, violet rose atlas, captain of the varsity soccer team, has been suspended from gameplay due to recent unsportsman-like behavior, sentenced to 100 hours of community service, and banned from the local lesbian bar.” 

mel removes her eyes from the screen to raise an eyebrow at you. you just shrug and take a sip of your coffee. you glance over at the clock on the wall. 

11:09am. 

“to top it all off, she’s late,” you declare, trying your best to hide the anticipation simmering in your stomach.

“what’s your deal, anyways? you totally flirt with her whenever she’s at the bar. not even we get that good of service,” gert points out. they’re searching through a stack of cd’s and cassette tapes for something to play. 

“that was before.” 

you walk over to sit next to gert, taking it upon yourself to choose the music. you settle on jagged little pill; alanis morrissette’s lush voice is a welcomed addition to your conversation.

“our funding is at risk,” you explain. “it’s like the dean assigned her to us because she knew it would end terribly and the board would have an excuse to finally cut us loose.” 

“if they need an excuse, they’ll find one,” gert grumbles.

you shrug. “i just think violet is bad news, which is something i’d prefer we avoid..”

“the article does say that she punched maddie nolan in the face during an exhibition game against the piltover knights.”

“see? bad news. literally.”

“well, i think we lucked out,” sky gushes, though her focus remains on finishing her current project. she’s crocheting so fast that you only catch glimpses of her sparkly pink fingernails. you’re sure she’ll be done with this blanket before violet shows up. if she even bothers to show up. “the yellowjackets might’ve lost their captain, but we get to spend quality time with the hottest butch on campus.”

“whatever,” you sigh, though you don’t disagree with that description. you check the clock again — 11:11am — and settle against the worn couch. “since we have the time — mel, why don’t you read our horoscopes? i’m itching to see what the universe has in store for us today.” 

───── ⋆☆�� ──────

vi spent the better part of last night crying and getting wasted in her bathtub with cheap dye burning into her scalp. 

she just couldn’t stand the memory of caitlyn kiramman’s perfectly manicured nails running through her formerly pink locks as they kissed, tugging on vi’s hair to bring her closer —

enough. fucking pull yourself together. 

cait’s moved on, that much is clear, with someone more like her. someone whose last name is on buildings all around the university of piltover’s campus.

so far, no amount of bar fights or red cards or late nights in some random girl’s bed seem to mend the heart that caitlyn shattered to pieces, but vi doesn’t give up easy.

soon enough, she’ll be back on the field, leading the yellowjackets to victory at nationals; she’ll finish all her classes, graduate with honors and have a great plan for an even greater future; all while having amazing, mind-blowing sex that won’t lead to serious heartbreak.

relationships are overrated, anyways. 

the first step in this plan: spending 100 hours with a bunch of angry, bra-burning lesbians.

maybe vi will fit right in.

so, vi walks into her community service assignment with a wicked migraine and hands that look like lady macbeth plotted to murder an oil spill, but with her usual confident swagger nonetheless, as conversation echoes down the hallway.

“according to your rising, there will be a much needed spark in your romantic life. my guess is a fire sign is gonna sweep you off your feet.”

another voice chimes in, a gentle rumble. “could that be your sweet jules?” 

“i’ve never asked about her chart,” an achingly familiar voice replies. it brings back memories of dizzying lights and strong whiskey coursing through her blood, but something else, too. a sky full of stars and too-sweet alcohol on her tongue. “paula was a fire sign, though, and that blew up in my face.”

“paula was a walking red flag.”

“yeah, well, apparently red’s my favorite color.”

“maybe that was just the heartbreak you needed to bring passion back into your life. do you feel that with jules?”

“i don’t know — maybe? we haven’t had sex yet.” 

“passion isn’t just about sex, you know —”

“gert, i love you, but i cannot handle a sex therapy session right now.”

someone else giggles, bright and bubbly. “hm, i wonder what sign our pink-haired hottie is.” 

vi clears her throat to announce her arrival, leaning against the doorway.

everyone turns to look at her then, with varying degrees of shock, and vi feels like she’s just walked into an after midnight roommate vent session.

she isn’t sure what she expected the space to look like, but zaun university’s women’s centre is well-lived in, defined by a sort of organized chaos. each wall is covered in posters and collages, multicolored flags and fairy lights; there’s a shelf in the corner with assorted trinkets and books piled high, a table next to it with baskets of condoms, pads, and tampons and informational pamphlets, and a door in the opposite corner, slightly ajar. a vintage boombox placed on the coffee table plays 90s alt rock, circled by mismatched seating with patterned blankets and brightly colored pillows strewn about.

someone with dark lipstick and an eyebrow piercing is drawing on their converse; a dark brunette wearing glasses is draping a blanket over the arm of a couch; another person is scrolling on their laptop, a gold necklace glittering on their collarbones. 

vi’s attention is stuck on you, though, the origin of the aforementioned familiar voice: the very hot bartender from sappho’s, where vi happened to be kicked out of not even 72 hours prior. 

you’re wearing a vintage wonder woman t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans with a carabiner clipped to a belt loop. the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up, displaying your array of tattoos — vi’s already decided that her favorites are joan of arc holding her sword, a pomegranate that’s been cracked open, and lyrics from bikini kill’s ‘rebel girl’ (which admittedly, vi had to look up when she first saw). it’s everything vi’s booze-soaked brain had apparently memorized after many nights of staring at you across the bar counter, licking up whatever honeyed flirtations you’d spill from your lips. vi always noticed your hands, too: the many rings you’ve stacked on your fingers, the lavender sprig sprouting from your middle finger and venus symbol etched onto your wrist, the nails that are always clipped short and painted black. 

one of those nails is tapping anxiously on your coffee mug, which has a picture of hayley kiyoko as lesbian jesus.

“pink-haired hottie, reporting for duty. though, i might need a new nickname.” vi grins; you roll your eyes. “i’m an aries, by the way.”

“good to know.” the brunette winks not-so-subtly in your direction before walking towards vi and extending a hand, gold bangles clinking together at the motion. “i’m sky, she/her. we had electromagnetic theory together last spring. it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

vi makes a big show of leaning down and kissing sky’s hand.

“nice to meet you, too, sweetheart.”

“such a gentleman,” sky giggles and leads vi to the patchwork couch. she curls up like a cat, and vi follows suit — the couch is cloud soft, and vi tries not to sink into the cushions. “i’m our supplies and communications coordinator.” she turns away from vi to look around the room. “okay, that’s my intro. who’s next?”

the person with an eyebrow piercing nods at vi, a sort of effortless greeting. “gert, they/them.” they snap the sharpie shut after writing ‘the future is intersectional’ on the tip of their toe. “i curate and design our newsletter, the black rose. i’m also in a band —”

“the sirens of zaun. yeah, i recognize you. you’ve played a few gigs at sappho’s.” 

vi looks at you pointedly, and you take this as your cue to disappear behind the door, which appears to lead into some sort of office.

gert seems pleased, though. “then you might also recognize our lead singer….”

the person with the gold necklace, who vi does, in fact, vaguely recognize but can’t quite name, closes their laptop and waves at vi. “i’m mel. pronouns: she/her. i mostly deal with the finances around here. and, from what i understand, you’re already well acquainted with our fearless leader —”

mel is cut off by the sound of her phone alarm. 

“shit — it’s already 11:30. our set at campus radio starts soon.” mel gestures at gert. gert picks up the bright red guitar case behind them and secures it around their shoulder as mel packs up her leather satchel. 

“damn, i gotta get to class, too. the space-time continuum waits for no one.” sky gets up and gathers her things, too, stuffing yarn into a fruit-printed tote bag. “it was nice meeting you though.” she pats vi’s head affectionately before throwing out a loud: “see ya later, boss!”

mel and gert offer similar farewells, and you shout goodbye from the other room before the three of them are out the door. vi expects you to reappear a few moments later; when you don’t, she ventures into the office.

it’s smaller, but just as decorated as the lounge space. there’s a desk that seems to be more storage than actual use, littered with piles of books and old copies of the black rose. you’re sitting on a fluffy rainbow carpet that looks like every member of sesame street stitched together, writing something in a sticker-covered notebook. 

“so, violet —”

“vi’s fine,” she tells you. she decides to sit on the floor next to you rather than the zebra striped chaise lounge.

you nod, rip a page out of your notebook, and hand it to vi. there’s something a bit too intimate about knowing what your handwriting looks like before even knowing your name. 

“this is a run down of everything you’ll need to know, but real quick: we do feminist film fridays and trivia tuesdays on alternating weeks; our radical reads book club meets once a month, along with our slam poetry group, and we have a bunch of other events in between — workshops, art builds, discussion groups, and so on. sky keeps everything in the centre stocked, and occasionally the rest of us will pitch in when organizing a charity drive. our newsletter publishes the third wednesday of every month — gert puts it together, but we print in pairs since it could be a lot of work for one person. we have team meetings once a week to share updates, make sure we’re all on the same page, stuff like that. any questions?” 

“wow, okay. that’s a lot.”

you smile. “i’m sure you’ll be able to keep up, varsity.” 

“so….where do i fit in?” 

“that depends on you, really,” you tap your glitter gel pen on your notebook, thinking. “like, i’m assuming you’re not well versed in feminist literature.”

vi puffs out her chest. “based on what assumptions? i’m not a dumb jock.”

“yeah, i know you’ve made the dean list ever since your freshman year.” 

vi raises an eyebrow. “keeping tabs on me, wonder woman?” she teases. 

you laugh. “don’t flatter yourself. sky’s the one who mentioned it to me. so, unless you mean your very large, unpaid tab at sappho’s...”

“the bar i was kicked out of, you mean.”

“well, yeah, because you —” you take a deep breath. “not the point. anyways, we don’t have a complete schedule for book club, so you can maybe take the lead on one of our meetings. do you have a favorite author?” 

vi smiles at you sheepishly. “ah…..you got me there.”

“thought so,” you smirk and vi covers her blush. “if you’re curious, this bridge called my back is a good place to start. oh, and audre lorde is a classic and a personal favorite…..” you pause when you catch vi staring at you. she wants you to keep talking, to appreciate the way your eyes light up so enthusiastically, but you blink away, and a veil of professionalism falls back onto you. “sorry. anyways, we’re having trivia tomorrow — would you be able to help us out with that?

vi nods. “sure.”

“sweet.” you check your phone. “i’ve got a coffee date, so i should get going.”

“wait — you never told me your name, wonder woman.”

“well, it’s not diana prince,” you quip before finally introducing yourself. 

“nice to finally put a name to the face.” vi winks at you, standing up. she extends a hand to guide you up. your hand is cold against her skin, your metal rings even colder.

“i’ll see you around, varsity.” before you’re out the door, you turn back around. “oh, and vi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t be late.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you had stepped away for a quick smoke break — a habit you knew you had to kick — but you’re so fucking drained and it’s only wednesday. 

you were up all night bickering with your girlfriend. it started with her admitting that she really doesn’t want to meet your friends, which transitioned into her asking you to not talk to anyone about her or your relationship, which prompted you to make a (maybe slightly insensitive) comment about how she’s welcome to stay in the closet but has no right to push you back in. 

needless to say, you did not get any sleep.

you’re about to walk outside, and finally get a moment of peace, when your phone rings. it’s your sibling, and the fact that they’re calling instead of texting tells you that this conversation is about to be (A) exhausting, (B) infuriating, or (C) both.

the correct answer is C.

it’s the same story over and over again: your dad drinks too much, your mom is absent. it hadn’t been this bad when you were growing up, but you suppose you’d been around to ease the damage, or at least step in and take care of your sibling as needed. 

“just — take a deep breath. you can come stay with me for the weekend, okay? it’ll be good for you to get away from the chaos for a bit….we’ll go apple picking if the weather’s nice, maybe start working on your halloween costume — whatever you wanna do.”

“you know, i’m not five anymore,” they mumble, stifling a small laugh along with some tears. “but…okay. that sounds nice.”

you smile to yourself, shoulder pressing against the door. “it’s a plan then. we’ll sort out the details later. and, don’t worry about mom and dad — i’ll take care of it. love you.” 

you hang up and exhale as you finally push the door open, happy to finally get one moment to breathe.

except, just as you’re greeted by a crisp breeze on this beautiful late september evening, you’re also greeted by the sight of vi pressing someone against the brick wall, their legs wrapped around her waist as she kisses their neck.

something ignites in your abdomen, familiar after many nights of seeing vi at the bar, charming her way into another woman’s bed. except, it’s definitely not jealousy, this time.

(okay, maybe it is; but only a bit.)

they spring apart upon hearing the door slam closed. you recognize who vi’s with — maya, a sophomore who’s frequently attended women’s centre events since last year. she’s always been friendly with the team, but never this friendly.

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you tell her sincerely. her cheeks are flushed, and she’s busy smoothing down her skirt, clearly trying to distance herself from vi, who’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “i just need to talk to violet, so do you mind giving us a sec?”

you wait until maya disappears inside to cross your arms and glare at vi.

“so, it’s violet now, huh?” she teases, wiping red lipstick off her smirk.

“you were supposed to be helping facilitate this workshop,” you note. 

“well, it is a queer sex ed workshop.” vi rolls her eyes. “i was giving maya a hands-on experience.”

you grit your teeth together. “and you just had to do that now? like you just had to go down on that third year during trivia last week?”

“well, see, i don’t have a ton of free time, and since i’m not allowed at the local lesbian bar….” she trails off, looking at you pointedly. “i’ve had to resort to multi-tasking.”

“multi-tasking.” you let an exhausted, bitter laugh slip from your lips. “you’ve showed up late to every single event in the past few weeks, and once you’re there, you’re either on your laptop, getting drunk, or hooking up with someone. tell me, violet, as captain of the yellowjackets — if someone on your team was acting like this, what would you do?”

vi narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking, and admits, “i’d call them out, tell them to do better.”

“right. and if they kept giving you empty promise after empty promise? you’d have to do something more drastic, even if you didn’t want to, yeah?”

no response.

shaking your head, you take out a cigarette. there’s only silence when you flick the lighter open and light it between your lips. you inhale deeply, letting the smoke enter your lungs, exhale slowly, and decide: “i’m gonna ask the dean to reassign you.”

“fine by me,” vi scoffs, but you swear that something close to disappointment flashes across her face. “clearly, this isn’t working out.”

“clearly.” you take another drag of your cigarette, and as vi walks back inside, you can’t help but try to get under her skin. you’ve had a bad week, between family drama and turbulence in your relationship with jules, and you’re just sick of people not giving a shit. “the year’s already started, so i doubt there’s something available. which means you’ll remain on academic probation until spring.”

and, okay — you do get some twisted satisfaction in how that makes vi stop in her tracks. you’re leaning against the wall, and she strides over to stand in front of you, her jaw and fists clenched.

“i’ll miss the whole tournament.”

you shrug, and blow smoke in her face. “i’ve given you plenty of chances.”

“but the team needs me —”

“you should have thought of that before you fucked up, varsity,” you snap. vi’s eyes widen; you’re usually more level-headed. “you’re cocky, irresponsible  — ”

“i lost my scholarship,” vi blurts out, prompting you to pause, the cigarette millimeters from your lips. 

you blink at her, blood still roaring in your ears.

“i…don’t know why that’s relevant.”

vi just sighs, so deeply that you feel it in your bones. you haven’t seen this side of her before — no flirtatious smile, no overconfident posture. instead, she slips to the ground, knees pressed to her chest. feeling a bit guilty for pushing her buttons, you slide down next to her. you offer her the cigarette, but she shakes her head.

“i…i’m going through a shitty breakup. i’ve been lashing out, and i lost my scholarship. i haven’t asked my parents for money, because the last thing i want is for them to worry about me. so, i started picking up these odd jobs to make ends meet, and the hours are a bit crazy so between school and practice and — fuck, there’s also shit going on with my sister that i won’t even get into now, but it’s a lot — and i also need to do this because i let my team down and i need to be there for them, whatever it takes, and i’m just so fucking —”

“exhausted, yeah.” 

you can see more clearly now — the slump in her shoulders, the shadows underneath her eyes; you see her more clearly. you realize that you might have more in common with violet rose atlas than you initially thought.

“so the laptop —”

“finishing assignments.”

“the drinking?”

vi juts her chin out at your smouldering cigarette. “we all have our vices.”

“and the sex?”

her lips curl into a sheepish grin, and she shrugs. “we all need to relieve stress.”

you clear your throat, blinking away from her gaze and trying to ignore how you can feel warmth radiating from her body, so close to yours. “right.”

vi runs her hand through her tar-black hair. that should have been your first hint — nothing says lesbian breakup more than terribly dyed hair and questionable decisions. 

“look, i know i can’t do everything, but i have to, and i’m still trying to figure out how.”

“well….as far as excuses go, it’s not the worst,” you admit. “thanks for telling me. i know that couldn’t have been easy.” you take a deep breath and get to your feet. “i stand by what i said earlier, though — this isn’t working out. you just can’t tell us that you’ll be helpful and not follow through. it means a lot, to a lot of people, that there’s a space like this on campus. mel, gert, sky— they all work so hard to make that happen, and that’s something i need to protect. i’m sorry.”

“wait.” vi grabs your wrist before you can leave. “i’m sorry. really, i am. i promise to do better.”

“you’ve made that promise before,” you point out. “why should i believe this time will be different?”

“because…you’re right. i’ve been too caught up in myself, in what i need, in what my team needs. i can see that you really care about your team, though, and i should have respected that. they’re — you’re — amazing, everything that you do to make people feel safe and heard and loved. i’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

wow. okay. 

you did not expect that. you’re hoping that vi can’t feel your pulse quicken at her words, but you’re glad that she’s holding on to you, keeping you steady.

“yeah, well…flattery’s not gonna get you far.” you clear your throat. “but, you’re obviously going through a lot right now, and it can drive you crazy, feeling like you’re the one who —”

“has to keep everything together,” vi finishes, sliding to the ground once more. you follow. “seems like i’m cracking under pressure, this time. fucking everything up.”

“you’ve got a reckless streak.”

“must be the aries in me,” she laughs, softly. “apparently it’s my Ieast attractive quality. along with my stubbornness and selfishness.”

“well, i don’t think that’s the whole picture,” you assure her. vi looks at you incredulously. “i won’t lie and say that your actions aren’t….thoughtless sometimes. you’re more self-centred than selfish—”

“hey!” 

“but you obviously feel some sense of responsibility, for your team, your family, for what you think is right. hell — the reason my boss asked me to kick you out is because you started a bar fight with that frat boy who was insisting he had the right dick to set lesbians straight.”

vi scoffs. “asshole.”

“i was about to throw him out, but you beat me to the punch. literally.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, and she chuckles. “and, yeah, you’re stubborn, which can be annoying, but it also means that you’d never give up, that you’re willing to keep trying despite the odds, so….” 

“so….?”

vi’s looking at you with the widest, softest eyes. fuck, you never expected her to be this gentle, so much so that it you want to melt to her every need. 

“i’m hoping third time’s the charm, varsity.”

vi smiles, the most sincere one she’s probably ever given you, and the scar on her lip stretches; for all your talk about responsibility, there’s a part of you who’d risk pushing your already tenuous relationship with your girlfriend to its breaking point just so you could kiss vi, guilt-free, just once. maybe you have a bit of a reckless streak, too.

“thanks, wonder woman. you won’t regret it.”

yeah. you kind of already do.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi would never admit it, but one reason she fought to keep her community service assignment here is because she wanted to keep seeing you. 

she likes getting under your skin, seeing those pretty eyes roll whenever she strides in late for a meeting, that kissable jaw clench any time you catch her tangled up with someone else. 

it almost makes up for all those nights at sappho’s you’d spent flirting back and forth, some sort of unspoken agreement between you to never go further.

sometimes, it’s just nice to have a crush in your back pocket, to know that they’ll always be there to admire and admire you back while others come and go.

the more time you spend together, though, the more vi realizes that you’re not just a fictional character in her head, in a fantasy she pictures before bed — no, you’re tangible.

vi watches as you bring special tea for gert when their period cramps are particularly painful; she listens to you console mel after another fight with her mother and offer advice to sky when she was hoping to ask out her lab partner. vi notices how you prefer your coffee with a dash of cinnamon; and she learns that you had your first kiss with a girl in your freshman year journalism class, and that your first tattoo was done by the same person. a stick-and-poke star on your ankle.

she can hear your laugh, feel the cool metal of your rings brush against her skin accidentally when you’re squeezing past her in a crowded room, smell your perfume when you hug her goodbye. you have stories and quirks and expectations and opinions that vi subconsciously files away as she gets to know you better.

you’re not just a crush, anymore. 

you’re a friend. 

vi likes having you as a friend. really — she does!

you’re a friend who makes vi’s heart jump at the sight of your name on her phone. a friend who smirks when vi blushes after you tell her she has the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen. a friend who mentions this vibrator that gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, so vi orders the same one and maybe still pictures you before bed, imagining that you’re using it at the same time. except someone else might be next to you.

yeah, vi’s pretty sure you’re dating someone, but that’s something she hasn’t gathered enough information on. 

not that it matters. she wouldn’t be interested in anything serious, anyways, after the mindfuck that was her relationship with caitlyn, and the damage she’s still having to heal from.

though, if that hadn’t happened, vi would have never gotten into a fight with maddie nolan, the second striker for the piltover knights, who taunted her during an exhibition game about how caitlyn is so much happier now that she isn’t disgracing herself with a filthy zaunite. vi would have never been banned from the first half of the tournament and chewed out by coach sevika for fucking up the yellowjackets’ chance at nationals. 

vi would have never been put on academic probation and assigned to 100 hours of community service, either.

she certainly wouldn’t have been here, now, in the women’s centre office close to midnight on a tuesday, folding the most recent issue of the black rose when you walk in.

“oh. hey, v.” you drop down on the zebra-striped couch, your tote bag falling to the ground. “i thought sky was gonna be here tonight.”

vi shakes her head, removing one earbud and letting it dangle from the cord. “she’s got this huge chem report due tomorrow, had to meet up with viktor to get it done.”

“right…” you sigh and lie back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. a few moments pass, and there’s only your steady breathing. “what are you listening to?”

your eyes are closed when vi settles in next to you. it’s a relatively tight fit, but it doesn’t seem like either of you particularly care. vi gently places an earbud in your ear.

you snort, opening your eyes. “you could have just said the cranberries.”

“i’m surprised you recognize them,” vi quips. “it’s not your usual angry girl music.”

“well, sometimes people surprise you. this is actually one of my favorite songs,” you explain. “it’s in one of my favorite movies, too.”

“you’ve got mail?”

you furrow your brows. “when harry met sally.”

vi shakes her head. “no, ‘dreams’ is definitely in you’ve got mail. but, i agree that when harry met sally is a better movie.”

“you’ve watched nora ephron movies and enjoyed them?”

“well, sometimes people surprise you,” vi teases. “i can appreciate a good love story as much as the next person.”

you let out a short, airy laugh. you tilt your head and you’re so close to vi that you’re practically exchanging the same breath. your eyes land on her lips for a millisecond, and vi starts to lean in before you sit up abruptly. 

“i could use some alcohol.” you climb over vi and go to the desk, pull out a half empty bottle of fruit-flavored soju from a drawer. you grab two mugs — the hayley kiyoko one, and another with frida kahlo. you stop short of pouring, looking to vi. she nods. 

soon enough, you’ve got your legs strewn along vi’s lap, sipping lychee infused alcohol. 

“can i ask you something?”

“anything,” vi answers, squeezing your calf.

“why’d you and caitlyn break up?” the question hangs in the air for a second before you add: “if you don’t wanna talk about it though, i understand.” 

shit. it’s definitely not vi’s favorite topic of conversation, but….

“i think she thought that i was one of the good ones, that regardless of the way i grew up or the blood that coursed through my veins, i would be her perfect little charity case. people would be like: future president kiramman definitely cares about the poor — just look at the broke angry lesbian she’s turned into her docile wife!” 

you suck in a sharp breath. “fuck that.” 

“yeah,” vi laughs sadly. “the worst part is that she wanted me to be vulnerable with her, so i was, because i thought the more i opened up, the more she’d love me, but, in the end….i was too messy. i was too much.” 

vi hates the lump that starts to build in her throat, the tears that threaten to spill. she cannot cry in front of you —

you grab her hand. your skin is cool against hers, and it eases her quickening heartbeat.

“you’re not too much, v.” your voice soothes her like honey, trickling down her throat. “it sucks, though, when they ask you to rip your heart out of your chest and get mad at you for bleeding out in front of them.”

“shit, i never thought of it so…viscerally, but that’s exactly what it feels like.”

“well you’re not a creative writing major,” you quip. “i know it still hurts — trust me, i know — but your heart was never hers if she treated you that badly. you deserve more.” 

is it the alcohol messing with her brain, or does it look like you want to kiss her?

fuck. 

vi clears her throat. “why’re you asking?”

you pull your hand away, take a sip of your drink. “jules broke up with me a few days ago.”

you’re single now. good to know. 

“what happened?”

“i caught her kissing someone at a bar. a boy.” you roll your eyes. “maybe she just wasn’t ready, which is fine, but when we had it out, she told me that what we had isn’t what romance is supposed to feel or look like, which sucked. especially after being so….vulnerable with her.”

“you offered her that bleeding heart of yours, didn’t you?” 

you click your tongue, pouring some more soju into each mug. “course i did, v. and it didn’t mean anything in the end. because relationships suck.”

“i’ll drink to that.” 

you cheers, keeping eye contact. 

“and you know what?” you take a big, long gulp. “i know that relationships aren’t just about sex, but i’ve been having to get myself off for months now and sometimes, i just want someone else to —”

“take care of you?”

vi sips her drink, watching you mull over her words.

“not sure if i’d put it like that,” you decide. “i just miss that excitement. when another person wants to discover what makes you feel good, and wanting to learn how to make them feel good, too. i miss having that connection with someone.” 

“i’m guessing you didn’t have that with jules, then.” 

“ha! no. and paula…the girl i dated before….let’s just say, she didn’t give a shit whether i felt good, in any sense.” you shift in your seat; vi senses there’s a story there, but she doesn’t push. “how about future president kiramman — she take care of you?”

vi can’t help but laugh. “nah. i mostly took care of her. she sure liked it when i got down on my knees for her.”

you hum. 

“lucky her.” 

you wink at vi, and she chokes on her drink. 

i would gladly do it for you, if that’s something you want.

“is that a genuine offer? because, if you’re joking —”

shit. did vi say that out loud? 

vi’s heart is beating out of her chest, but she sits up straighter to regain some level of composure. she nods. 

no use in turning back now.

“i’m serious, wonder woman.”

you stare at her. “i really can’t have another relationship that’s just gonna crash and burn.”

“that’s not what i’m offering. i care about our - our friendship. i care about you.”

you swallow. “i care about you, too.”

“right, and when our friends need help with something….”

“we help them,” you finish. “so, you’re really just talking about casual sex. right now, on this couch?”

“yes,” vi answers. maybe a bit too quickly. “if that’s what you want, too.”

“that’s what i want,” you reply. maybe a bit too quickly, too. “but none of this one sided bullshit: you do me, i do you.”

vi takes your mug, puts it next to hers on the floor, and repositions your bodies so that she’s hovering above you, hips set between yours.

“sounds perfect to me.” 

you finally, finally kiss and it feels oddly…familiar. you taste like lychees and nicotine and cherries, burnt sweetness, and your skin is so fucking soft.

“wait.” you tug on vi’s hair and she has to bite back a moan at how fucked out you already look underneath her, all wide-eyed and desperate. “just so we’re 100% clear: just sex.”

vi nods once. “no strings attached.”

“it’ll be casual.” 

“we’re not doing the whole relationship thing.”

“promise?”

vi sticks out her pinky, grinning at you sheepishly. you roll your eyes ever so slightly, but still wrap your pinky around hers.

“promise.” 

so, you take care of each other. no strings attached.

because that’s what friends are for, right? 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽

are u busy rn? got out of my lab early and im bored 

wndr wmn ☆

yeah, im at work

v ⚽️

leave early. im BORED and HORNY

wndr wmn ☆

ofc you are 

v ⚽️

pls u love it 

u know #6 isn’t just my jersey number ;))

i’m implying that i will give u 6 consecutive orgasms

wndr wmn ☆

yeah i got that 

v ⚽️

so….

wndr wmn ☆

….

leaving now

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“you sure about this, v?” 

vi hums, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “isn’t it every girl’s dream to get tied up by the lasso of truth, wonder woman?”

you’re straddling her, still wearing your red and gold bodysuit underneath blue shorts that you’ve decorated with silver stars. your makeshift lasso of truth — really, just some gold rope — sparkles, tying vi’s wrists together to the headboard.

the theme of the women’s centre halloween celebration is always the same — dress up at your favorite female icon — but you’d never seen someone look as good as vi does. she dressed as trinity from the matrix, all tight, black leather and vinyl, showcasing her defined muscles as the gods intended.

now, she’s left in a sleeveless cropped top and black boyshorts, with her pants and jacket thrown somewhere on your apartment floor. 

you have a feeling she really liked your costume, too, because she practically begged you to take control tonight. 

“if it gets too much, our safeword will be —”

“sappho.” the slight whine of impatience in her voice sends a jolt right to your core.

“perfect.”

you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck, your lipstick leaving angry red marks. you lodge your bare thigh in between vi’s legs, biting your bottom lip when you feel her already warm and wet, when you hear her whimper as you apply more pressure to where she needs you most. you reach into your nightstand for your vibrator and switch it on, teasing vi’s nipples through her shirt. 

vi moans, deep and loud. not even thirty seconds, and she’s already pulling at the restraints, the headboard creaking. 

“are you gonna be a good girl for me, violet?” you coo, inching the vibrator lower and lower, feeling her shake underneath you. “because we’ve got all night, and you better not break my bed.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“hey, so — i found these in between one of the couch cushions, thought maybe they might be yours.”

you can only spare a glance at the item mel is holding up — you’re grading freshman papers, focused on this one student’s thesis about gender fluidity in shakespeare’s twelfth night.

“oh, those are vi’s.”

“hm. and just how is it that you know what her underwear looks like?”

you stop writing mid-sentence and look up at mel who’s giving you a pointed look. 

you and vi had been the ones to clean up after feminist film friday last week, and one thing led to another….

in your defense: vi had been wearing these low cut jeans that showed off her v-line, and you could tell she didn’t have her usual sports bra on because you could see the outlines of her nipple rings through her tight, white tank top. it took everything in you to wait until people cleared out during the credits of the watermelon woman to pin her down and have her whimpering for you.

“i just…guessed.”

“right.” mel rolls her eyes. “so, you and violet are….what? fucking? dating?”

you clear your throat and take a sip of lukewarm coffee. 

“we’re keeping it casual,” is all you say.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

you just shrug.

“just — be careful,” mel, always the diplomatic one, eases. she walks towards you, sits on the edge of the desk, and hands you the pair of black briefs. “i know we all teased you about it before, but i don’t want to see you get hurt. i’ve seen you get your heart broken one too many times.”

“it’s fine, mel,” you assure her, grabbing the piece of fabric and shoving it at the bottom of your bag. you’re visiting their owner after this, anyways. “vi and i are just friends helping each other out.”

mel raises an eyebrow. “well, you and i have been friends for years and we’ve never gotten that close.”

“that’s different.”

“how so?”

“i appreciate your concern,” you say, avoiding the question. “but it’s fine. nice, actually.” 

“it’s your life,” mel sighs. “maybe don’t fuck on our couches anymore, though.” 

your cheeks heat up. you turn your attention back to the essay in front of you.

“noted.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi starts showing up at your place after soccer. 

she’s allowed back on the field during games now, so she appears with a winning grin, a grass-stained uniform and fresh bruises on her knees. one time, she had the remnants of a bloody nose after a header gone wrong, and you could taste copper when she pressed her lips against yours before she hopped in the shower.

you keep her go-to body wash stocked — bergamot and cedarwood scented old spice — but she always walks out of the bathroom smelling like your mango-vanilla shower gel. sometimes even your coconut shampoo. she slips on one of your oversized graphic tees, drapes a light purple towel around her shoulders to avoid staining your shirt with her cheaply dyed black hair, fading back to pink with each wash. she walks over to the fridge in her soft gray sweatpants rolled at the ankles and cracks open one of the spiced-pear red bulls as you pull ingredients out for dinner. usually something quick and simple, since it’s always a long week and neither of you have capacity for anything more.

vi chops garlic and tells you about her game; you boil water for pasta and tell her about the latest drama between students in your literature class. 

you pretend you have all the time in the world.

because you both know that vi’s got the strap packed in her gym bag, that soon one thing will lead to another and she’ll be fucking you with it until you’re both sweaty and spent and exhausted in the best way possible. 

you’ve established this routine together, agreed upon several unspoken rules: no pillow talk once it’s over; no actually falling asleep in the other’s bed; no crossing that thin sapphic line between friendship and romance. 

no breaking that promise.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

wanna come over? i’m watching bend it like beckham

v ⚽️

MY FAVORITE!!

i would love 2

but lucky fell asleep on me 

we just finished devouring an xl pepperoni pizza 

wndr wmn

remind me again why your one-eyed golden retriever likes pizza so much?

v ⚽️

come on it’s cute

[v ⚽️ sent an attachment]

wndr wmn

yeah, you’re cute

v ⚽️

<3 

come over here instead?

wndr wmn

omw

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“come on — hurry up.”

“you practically begged for this, v,” you chide. 

“yeah, but you’re taking too long and your hands are fucking freezing.”

“it’s the irony deficiency, babe,” you quip. “now, are you gonna be a good girl and let me finish?”

“fine,” vi grumbles. she does stop squirming, though. you hum, pleased.

you certainly didn’t miss the way her breath hitches at the nickname. vi’s right hand, freshly polished, tightens on your thigh.

you’re not sure why she called you at 1:27am for your help with this, or why she couldn’t just do it herself, but you’re sitting on her lap, painting her nails the color of pomegranate juice, a color she had chosen from the options you brought.

sure, you were about to turn in for an early night, but the moment you heard her voice through the phone, you rushed over to her place wearing nothing but your pajamas — plaid boxer shorts and a spiderman shirt that vi wore last time she was at yours, and you haven’t washed since.

you stretch time out as much as you can, meticulous in every stroke, but painting her nails doesn’t take much longer. you start to move off her lap — it’s probably time for you to leave — but vi grabs your hips, a playful smirk on her lips.

oh, right. that’s the type of relationship — friendship — you and vi agreed upon.

shit. you’re pretty sure that you’re wearing your days of the week underwear. is it a turn-off that you’ve got on a saturday pair on a thursday?

it doesn’t really matter, anyways.

instead of initiating a kiss, vi takes the bottle of polish from you, swaps it for black, and gestures for your hand. you blink at her, until you realize what she’s asking.

“oh! you don’t have to —”

“you do me, i do you.” vi grins at you. “i thought that was our arrangement.” 

you laugh, feeling warmth radiate from your chest.

it’s kind of….adorable, the furrow of her brow, the way she curses under her breath when a drop of nail polish falls onto your skin. she’s surprisingly gentle, too, one of her hands holding yours for support while the other paints. 

while she focuses on getting the polish onto your nails in even layers, you busy yourself by counting vi’s freckles. 

violet rose atlas has a constellation of freckles sparkling across her cheeks. you hope there’s enough time in the world for you to memorize every single one.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽️

do u need more nicotine gum? 

im at cvs rn

wndr wmn

yeah that’d be great!!

v ⚽️

ok 

i’ll get u the cinnamon one

that’s the one u like right?

wndr wmn

yep!!!

v ⚽️

okay cool

im also gonna get u some of those iron supplements

wndr wmn

my hero 🙏🏽

thank you sm

v ⚽️

ofc

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“that red head was trying to get your number.”

“are you jealous, v?”

vi scoffs, sipping her cherry coke. “of course not. i’m just observant.”

you’d convinced your manager to let vi back into sappho’s. it’s nice, really, to see her back here again. 

nice, but different. 

gone are the days of staring at her from across the room, where she would be charming someone else, and only flirting with you when she came over to get another whiskey for herself and vodka something for her date. instead, she jokes around with mel, sky, and gert if they’re around, and sometimes brings her teammates in as well to play a game of pool. she usually has one drink, and then switches to something non-alcoholic. sometimes, vi doesn’t even come in for a drink; she just stops by to say hi before a team dinner or a study session.

(it’s fine — never once have you gotten an overpriced coffee from the cafe she started working at mid-october, and you probably stop by once a week between errands. that’s your excuse, anyways.)

so. things are different, but nice. 

you lean across the sticky counter. “you want me to get down on my knees for you right now to prove which girl here i’d like to go home with?”

“baby….” vi shifts on the bar stool. it’s hard to tell under the dim multicolored lights, but you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too. 

“i think we both know you’d draw a bit too much attention to yourself. especially when i use my tongue to —”

“my car’s outside.” 

you smirk. “my break’s in 15.”

you used to spend your breaks in the alley outside sappho’s burning through a cigarette. now you find yourself knee-deep in the passenger seat, eating vi out like she’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 

“f-fuck,” vi groans. 

“feels good, yeah?” you tease her clit with her tongue, sliding two fingers into her easily. you work fast, determined to let her finish before you run out of time.

“so fucking good. i’m gonna —”

she clenches around your fingers; you lap her up eagerly, let her writhe against your face until she’s had enough. 

you sit back on your knees once her hips still, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crane your neck to check the time on the dashboard, when you notice something in the footwell.

“vi! i thought i lost this.”

vi grins at you sheepishly, chest still heaving as you hold up the complete works of audre lorde, a tattered book with a well-worn spine and dog-eared pages. 

“sorry. i meant to put it back on your nightstand once i was finished.”

you open to where she’s placed a makeshift bookmark — the ticket from an underground sirens of zaun show you’d both gone to. you’ve had this copy since freshman year, the scribble of your handwriting in the margins of practically on every page.

“it’s okay,” you tell her. “you like it so far?”

“yeah.” she grabs the book from you gently, thumbing through the pages. you wonder if vi registers the curves of her own smile, tender and bashful. “honestly, i’m not usually a fan of poetry, but it’s really cool how lorde writes about desire between women in such a tangible way, you know? i really liked this one verse in ‘recreation:’ ‘touching you, i catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat.’ it’s just so - so beautiful, the idea of something so domestic and mundane being almost magical, because that’s what it’s really like when —”

you don’t even realize that you’re staring until vi looks up at you and freezes.

“sorry,” she clears her throat, closing the book and setting it aside. “did i say something wrong?”

you assure vi that she did nothing wrong. 

you exit her car, the taste of her lingering on your tongue, the feeling of her keeping your body warm on this cold november night.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

hey

are you in town during break?

v⚽️

having dinner at my dads’ on friday but otherwise im here

why? u gonna miss me?? 

wndr wmn

lol

im having ppl over for friendsgiving on sunday

if you wanna join

v ⚽️

hell yeah

can i bring anything?

wndr wmn

just your pretty face

i’ll take care of the rest

turkey, cranberry, sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie…

etc. etc.

v ⚽️

damn!!!!

full course meal

wndr wmn

yep

im basically wife material

v⚽️

pls we’re so over gender norms

but yeah

you are

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi has never been the type to wait by the phone for a girl to text, or to show up at her place after not hearing from her in a while, worried that she might have done something wrong. 

yet here she is, standing outside your door.

it’s cool, though. completely platonic behavior.

she knocks. 

there’s no answer. 

she knocks again.

nothing.

vi waits another second, leaning her shoulder against the door.

“it’s me, wonder woman,” she tries. 

hope flutters in her chest as she hears you shuffle, unchain the lock. vi stumbles as you throw the door open, but she recovers quickly to find you: smudged black eyeliner enhancing the shadows underneath your eyes, hair in disarray, clothes disheveled. 

“i’m not really in the mood for sex.”

vi can’t help but laugh, even though your comment feels like a punch to the face.

“wow. figured you would think more of me by now than just some horny teenage boy.”

“look, vi —”

vi? 

since when do you call her that?

“i’m sorry i missed the meeting today. i texted mel —”

damn, so your phone does work. 

you’ve just been ignoring her calls and texts.

“but i’m just… it’s not a good time, okay? i’ll see you around.”

ah. 

the classic generic excuse and non-committal statement combo.

you start to close the door on her before she even has a chance to get a word in.

the hits just keep coming. 

thankfully, vi’s always been a good fighter.

“wait.” vi places her palm firmly on the door before you can fully shut her out. “i’m just here to check on you.” 

your face remains unchanged.

“okay, well, you’ve checked on me.” 

“yeah, i’ve checked on you. you look like shit.”

you glare at her. “well i’m sorry i didn’t have the time to get all prettied up for you. i know that you like me better that way.”

“that’s not what i  —”  vi inhales sharply. she’s a fighter, but she doesn’t want to fight you. “mel dropped the news — about admin officially cutting our funding. i knew how that would affect you, so….” vi lifts the bag of takeout. “i brought some thai food for us to share. a pomegranate, too, because i know you like seasonal fruit. it’s been a while and honestly, i just….i just wanted to spend time with you.”

you exhale, your eyes softening. 

there. 

a hesitant smile, an invitation to come inside.

there are clothes all over your floor and dishes piled high in the sink. your desk is littered with empty boxes of cereal and cans of an energy drink that normally you’d never touch. the blanket that sky had crocheted for you — lavender and pink checkered — is unfolded on your couch, your laptop half-closed on the coffee table in front next to two stacks of printed essays — ones marked with purple pen, the others untouched. in contrast, your bed is still perfectly made. 

you take the blanket and wrap it around your shoulders, sitting at the kitchen table and curling into yourself. vi busies herself in cracking open the pomegranate, putting the seeds into the last clean bowl in your cupboard. the palms of her arm wraps are now stained a reddish-purple, but she doesn’t care.

vi manages to find two pairs of clean chopsticks for the thai food, and the two of you eat in silence. 

“so….” vi starts, watching you stab a piece of chicken before popping it into your mouth. “you wanna talk about it, or….?”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“well, for starters, maybe tell me what’s been getting you into full hibernation mode? we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“six days,” you correct, chewing a mouthful of noodles. “last tuesday, we played pool during my closing shift at sappho’s. i lost. you made me down two shots of tequila because you’re a menace and you know i hate it.” 

“yeah, but i drove you home and tucked you into bed with water and advil for later, so i’m also a gentleman. so, just tell me what’s been going on. we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“it’s fine,” you grumble.

“clearly, it’s not. just tell me what you need.”

“what i need is to not be distracted,” you huff, avoiding eye contact. “i certainly don’t need you —”

“taking care of you, i know.” vi grabs your hand from across the table. she feels you stiffen on instinct, and then ease into the heat of her skin. “trust me, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to be. so — humor me.”

vi squeezes your hand, hoping to reassure you. 

you sigh. “i’ve just — i’ve been spiralling trying to figure out how the centre can keep going with, like, half our required budget, trying to see if we can get some external donors and i still need to finalize the venue and equipment rentals for our last open mic….and….and my sibling called again to tell me that things haven’t been great at home, so i want to go down there this weekend to sort everything out, but my car hasn’t been starting….plus i’m behind on grading, and i told my supervisor i’d have a complete draft ready by thursday and i’m not even halfway done, and that’s the same day we’re having that art build for the climate rally on friday, and i’ve been having the worst cramps since this afternoon, and all i wanna do is pass out and sink into my duvet, but i need to keep going —”

vi squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly. “you need to slow down.” 

“i can’t.” you huff. “i have to keep everything from falling apart, and if i don’t….”

vi shifts to the chair next to yours, still holding your hand. 

“but you can’t do it all if you’re too exhausted to take care of yourself. from the looks of it, you’ve been living off of frosted flakes, red bull, and zero sleep.” 

you shrug. “if that’s what it takes.”

“if that’s what it takes, then maybe it’s not worth it.”

“don’t say that,” you tell her. “it’s all worth it. i just wish it wasn’t so…heavy.”

vi nods, because she really, truly understands. she gives you the advice she can see you giving her in another context.

“you ever think that maybe it wouldn’t feel as heavy if you…i don’t know…weren’t too stubborn to ask for help.”

“there are things that are my responsibility, violet,” you tell her, slipping your hand away. you reach for the bowl of pomegranate seeds, meticulously picking up one at a time with your chopsticks and crushing it in between your molars. “i can’t just pass those off to someone else.” 

“fine. but what about other things? like the women’s centre stuff — we’re a team, right? so we’ll figure it out together, divide the labor so you’re not doing everything. and, maybe ask your supervisor for an extension, too? and, well, i don’t really need my car this weekend, so you’re welcome to borrow it.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“you said…. ‘we.’”

“well, yeah. i’m part of the team, aren’t i?”

“but you’ll be finished with your hours in a week. there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“of course there is,” vi whispers, studying your face as it morphs from suspicious to something else, something gentler. 

her heart is pounding as she waits for you to say something, so vi starts to dig into the pomegranate seeds, the juice surprisingly more sweet than sour. some dribbles out from the corner of her lips, and you reach over to wipe it away with your thumb.

“i’d love for you to stay,” you hum, smiling, and vi feels her chest glow with a brightness it seems only you can bring out. “turns out you give pretty good advice.”

“so…you’ll consider it.”

you shrug again. “maybe. i am very tempted to take you up on the car thing.”

“all yours, if you want it.”

“are you sure?”

“it’s fine, wonder woman. i’ll just carpool to practice — it’s better for the environment, anyways. can’t show up to the climate rally as a hypocrite, can i?” she jokes, and you roll your eyes playfully. “and, i’ll try to fix your car while you’re away.”

“wow. you are a gentleman.”

“gentleman? baby, i’m husband material.”

you actually laugh.

“i thought we were over gender norms,” you quip. “but yeah. you are.” 

vi’s cheeks heat up at your statement. you most definitely notice her blushing because you break out into a toothy grin

“i missed you, v,” you admit. “any other words of wisdom?”

despite your tender smile, you look exhausted. vi just wants to hold you through it all, tell you it’s gonna be okay. instead, she settles for placing a gentle hand on your cheek, running her thumb over the deep shadow underneath your eye. 

“get some rest, pretty girl.”

a few hours later, you wake up alone. 

you have a vague memory of warm arms wrapped around you, a heart beating steadier than yours. your sheets smell like old spice, your apartment smells like fresh laundry. you get out of bed and notice that there are no more dishes in your sink, no more cans or containers on any surface. all the clothes you’d been meaning to wash are now carefully folded on your couch. 

there’s a bright pink sticky note on your nightstand next to the keys to vi’s car.

you talk in your sleep. something about stargazing? maybe we can go when you get back. 

drive safe. text me if you need anything.

xxx

- v

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

zaun yellowjackets vs. piltover knights. 

two minutes left in overtime. 

one goal standing in the way of their trophy. one goal to end piltover’s monopoly over the title of national champions. 

caitlyn probably told her knights to be extra aggressive — win by any means necessary — so it’s been a long game of dirty plays and intentional fouls.

vi always puts her heart into every single game, but this time —

this time, it’s personal. 

zaun’s defense works to regain possession and prevent piltover’s attack. ashe manages to intercept a pass between two knights, and is quick in dribbling the ball until mid-field. she sends it over to vi with a swift kick. vi’s quick on her feet, catching piltover’s defense by surprise, sprinting closer and closer to the goal. she makes it to the penalty box.

this could be the winning point. 

vi has it, too. she’s so fucking close, about to fake out the goalie and kick into that hard-to-defend sweet spot — until a sharp, pointy elbow collides with her ribs so abruptly, it knocks the wind out of her lungs. she stumbles forward over the ball, knees skidding onto the grass. whoever it is also steps on vi’s cleat for good measure. 

“fuck!” she looks up to see who it is.

of course. it’s maddie fucking nolan, who doesn’t spare so much as a glance as the ref doles out a red card. she nods at caitlyn as she walks off the field, no doubt following her captain’s orders.

her teammates help vi to her feet, and the ref makes sure everyone is in position for the penalty kick.

this could be the winning point. vi just has to ignore caitlyn’s icy stare from a few feet away, and the heart threatening to beat out of her chest. 

vi takes a deep breath. 

she looks to the stands. among the crowd of screaming fans, zaunites and pilties alike, is vi’s family. they’re cheering.

you’re there too, sitting next to them. 

everyone is staring at vi, waiting for the whistle, waiting for her to make the shot, but the only person she stares back at is you.

you’ve got this, v, you had whispered to her the night before. she couldn’t sleep, so she called you. vi wishes she was back there, now — tangled in flannel sheets, lucky snoring at the foot of the bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling until she finally fell asleep in your arms.

but, vi’s on the field. 

and this is the winning point. 

the whistle blows. 

she makes the shot.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“i told you i wasn’t a jinx!” powder sticks her tongue out at mylo.

she’s all sweat and dirt and adrenaline, but, fuck, if vi isn’t so, incredibly happy and proud of her team, of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve accomplished.

it almost doesn’t feel real.

just like it doesn’t feel real, seeing you talk animatedly with her sister’s boyfriend, laughing along with her siblings, smiling as you watch her dads hug and praise her.

when it’s your turn to do the same, you practically leap into vi’s arms, gushing about how amazing she was, how proud you are of her. 

“this looks good on you,” vi hums, as you pull away from another hug. her fingers play with the bottom of the jersey, and she bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself in the moment. you, with her family. you, in her jersey. “thinking of joining the yellowjackets?”

“i think i’ll leave the soccer to you,” you tell her. “you were amazing out there. guess i should be calling you wonder woman from now on, huh?”

“wonder woman! that’s where i remember you from!” vander suddenly exclaims, stepping closer to the pair of you. silco turns around, too. “you once tried to get into the last drop with a fake id, didn’t you? under the name diana prince?”

“shit,” you laugh nervously, eyes flickering between vander and the ground as if you’re once again a teenager caught in the act. “i….probably did.”

“i kicked you out, told you to go home to themyscira.”

“yeah…i….i remember that.” you nod slowly, furrowing your brows. “except, i didn’t want to go home that night, so i lingered outside,” you continue. you turn to vi, and your face softens. “which was when you —”

“brought two glasses of cherry coke and rum,” vi finishes; she sees flashes of that night as you gaze into her eyes. “we climbed onto the roof and —”

that was her first kiss. vi never even realized until now, but —

you were her first kiss.

“i can’t believe i forgot that.”

“weird, how memory works,” you agree, tilting your head curiously, looking at vi with a newfound interest, like a ghost from your past.

“well, isn’t this a story we’ll be sharing on your wedding day!” vander chuckles, ruffling vi’s hair. 

“don’t pressure them, darling,” silco chides, but the smirk growing on his face gives him away. he’s loving this drama. “they’re barely 23 — i doubt they’ve discussed marriage.” 

“oh, we’re not —”

“yeah, we’re just —”

“friends,” you say at the same time, careful to avoid eye contact.

vi feels like she might burst into flames at the knowing look vander and silco share.

“well, violet, would your friend like to join us for a celebratory dinner?” silco asks.

so that’s how you’re sitting between powder and claggor, listening to them talk your ear off about the young innovator’s competition. vi’s sitting across from you, next to ekko, who occasionally pipes in. 

you’re here, sharing the tradition of a post-game meal with vi’s family at the local pizza parlour. 

caitlyn never even wanted to meet vi’s family.

a few pizzas are ordered for the table, and you eat and laugh and sip your soda along with everyone else. you make a flower out of your paper napkin and hand it to isha, who’s on the other side of powder, and she gives you a toothy grin in return. you answer all the standard questions about your job and major and plans for the future.

“after graduation, i’m probably gonna take a break, get some work experience,” you explain. “maybe save up some money for law school a few years down the road.”

“you wanna be a lawyer, huh? you sure you wanna be friends with a felon, then?” powder asks, blowing bubbles into her soda through her straw. 

vi coughs, choking on a mushroom. 

“powder!” 

“what! she never told you?”

you shake your head, glancing over at vi who suddenly finds it hard to look you in the eye. your foot has been pressed against hers underneath the table all night; you pull it away now. she takes a big gulp of water; vi looks over at vander and silco for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversation.

“oh, damn! ” mylo adds, leaning over. “it’s a great story!” 

“guys, maybe don’t —”

“but it’s a great story!” mylo insists. “shows what a badass you are!”

“she didn’t do anything serious, like murder or anything,” powder clarifies. “it was really just her pissing off some enforcers —”

“rightfully so,” ekko adds. 

claggor nods. “we were just kids. they were harassing us for some bullshit, disruption of property or whatever, so vi steps in and things get heated —”

“it takes three of enforcers to get her handcuffed, but she manages to get a few nasty hits in before they send her off to stillwater —”

“she spends three days there —”

“i thought it was two —”

“no, it was three —”

“needless to say, this isn’t the first time vi has been sentenced to community service, but it seems she’s really enjoying it this time, thanks to you,” powder finishes, winking at you. 

“well that’s….quite the story,” you finally say, voice steady. 

“oh! let’s tell her about the time she stole from some enforcers that were hoarding food —”

as powder continues the story, and you listen intently, it’s hard to read your expression.

are you ashamed of being friends with her? disgusted by her family, her past? regretful that you ever let her touch you, let her into your life? 

vi’s stomach turns when your eyes collide; she’s been down this road before, and vi’s scared that she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

she pushes her chair back and disappears to the bathroom before she has to watch you walk away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

there’s a knock on the door.

“someone’s in here,” vi says. she grips the edge of the counter so hard, her knuckles turn white. 

deep breaths. 

this isn’t the same as before.

this isn’t caitlyn, who threw vi out like a piece of trash when something better came along. 

then again, you never knew this much about vi’s past. you’re well within your right to —

there’s another knock.

“v? it’s me….i have to get going, but i wanted to check on you before i leave.”

“okay,” vi clips. she looks up at herself in the mirror; she had splashed her face with cold water to calm herself down. a drop falls from her chin. “bye.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’m fine. see you around.”

you sigh, and vi hears you settle against the doorframe. 

“violet, let me in,” you press. “please?” 

“i’m fine. you can leave.”

“okay, well, i’m not leaving until i see that gorgeous face of yours one more time,” you whisper. “i got all dolled up just for you, and all i wanna do is give you a proper goodbye….” 

well, when you put it like that….

vi grabs some paper towel to dry her face and fixes her hair before opening the door for you. you smile knowingly, enter and lock the door behind you. 

you lean against the door as vi leans against the counter, the marble digging into her lower back.

“okay, i’ll start because, frankly, i don’t have time to waste,” you state after a few moments of silence. “nothing i’ve learned about you tonight has changed how i see you. it’s just confirmed some things.”

“right. like how impulsive and violent and reckless i’ve always been,” she lists glumly, unable to look you in the eye.

“maybe you are all those things,” you pause. “but, i don’t fucking care. i mean, i do, because it’s part of you and i like who you are. i like you.”

your words do wonders to ease the tension throughout vi’s body, and she feels like she can actually take a breath.

vi’s eyes lock onto yours.

“you do?”

“i like who you are, every part of it,” you tell her. “well, i don’t like that you’ve had to fight your way through an unbelievably fucked up system ever since you were a kid, but the bottom line is that you’re the strongest, most compassionate person i know.”

vi blinks at you.

“funny, i was just thinking the same thing about you the other day.”

neither of you say anything for a minute or so, letting the sentiment linger in the small space between you. once more, you’re the one to break the ice.

“well, you know what they say about great minds….” you step closer to vi. you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger. "can you guess what i’m thinking now?" 

vi shakes her head, throat suddenly very dry.

“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“what’s stopped you?”

you grin. “i didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your family, but now that we’re alone….”

vi doesn't say anything, but instead closes the gap between your lips.

you kiss her, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing her moans as your fingers snake down the waistband of her pants. you pull vi’s bottom lip with your teeth before moving to her neck, nipping along the outline of her tattoo. you bite down harder on her skin, right at her pulse point. 

"what’s that you said earlier —” a low groan tumbles from vi’s lips when you start to suck just above her collarbones. another when your tongue soothes over the sting. “about a proper goodbye…?” she tugs your hair so that you’re looking right at her. 

it’s quite the sight — your lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes curious and lustful.

“anything you want,” you whisper, all breathless. 

vi hums. she slips a hand underneath the frayed hem of your denim skirt, and you gasp as her nails scrape against your inner thigh.

she likes that you’re here. here for her.

"get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

she pulls down her pants along with her briefs, as you kneel before her without hesitation.

you drape one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access to her cunt. vi grips your hair tighter, bringing you in closer, and you moan, sending vibrations up her body.

"fuck," vi hisses. you add a finger, while your tongue works her clit. 

you bring her to the edge, stay with her even as her thighs clench around your skull. she expects you to get back on your feet right away, but you stay, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moans your name.

you pull away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promise. your chin glistens with vi’s release; you lick your lips as you gaze up at her through thick eyelashes. "can you do that for me?" she nods furiously, and you get back to work.

after letting her ride your tongue and fingers through another orgasm, you kiss her ankle before releasing her leg. vi pulls you up to your feet, sucks the taste of herself off your tongue.

you pull away slightly, heart racing against vi’s chest. 

vi swipes her thumb over the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studies you, admires you, like you’re a fucking work of art that belongs in a gallery, like you didn’t just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a pizza parlour while wham's "last christmas" plays through shitty speakers.

"take these off." vi tugs at your tights. you do as instructed, slipping off your underwear as well. she pulls you towards her, and lodges a leg in between yours. your bare cunt brushes against her thigh, back and forth as she guides your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up…. wearing my jersey, and this pretty little skirt even though it’s so cold outside. all for me?"

vi flexes her thigh muscles, pushing you down faster and harder. you whimper.

"all – all for you.”

vi feels her pussy clench, with the desperation in your voice, the stickiness of your heat against her skin, the smell of the two of you intertwining. your orgasm crashes into you, and vi holds you through it. 

you kiss her ever so sweetly before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...." 

you look over as vi tucks your fuschia thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for christmas."

vi flashes you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulls up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. she likes the idea of walking around with you seeped into her skin. 

when vi looks over at you, you’re as fully dressed as you can be and busy checking something on your phone. she only sees a flash of your lock screen, but it’s her. a photo of her and lucky playing at the park; there’s snow, so it had to have been a few days ago. 

that doesn’t mean anything, right? people use photos of their friends for their wallpaper all the time.

“i really have to go,” you sigh. you pull a tube of lipstick from your pocket and step closer to the mirror. “hey — do you think we could switch shirts? not sure i should wear this to my next dinner.”

vi nods and you remove her jersey, revealing a matching fuschia bralette. she wonders what’s got you all coordinated — who else you’ve clearly dressed up for. 

“so, you’ve got a hot date?” vi tries to act casual as she takes off her jacket, pulls off her shirt, and waits for you to answer. you take your time, fixing yourself in the mirror.

“something like that,” you finally say with a shy smile.

later, when isha’s asleep on powder’s lap in the backseat, vi thinks about how your date might have gone, if you’re taking them home to the same bed vi has fucked you in throughout these past few months.

where do you get off, fucking vi in the bathroom during dinner while her parents are at the table, only to leave for another date, wearing vi’s shirt, too?

“hey, can i ask you something?” ekko asks from beside her, cutting off the angry monologue in her head.

vi reaches over to turn down the music.

“sure, little man. what’s up?”

“what’s the deal between you and wonder woman?”

vi clears her throat, gripping the steering wheel. “what makes you think there’s a deal?”

“oh, please, we all noticed that hickey on your neck after she visited you in the bathroom.” 

the car crawls to a stop as the light turns red, and vi adjusts the collar of her shirt.

“we’re just friends.”

“well, powder and i were just friends for ages,” ekko points out.

vi doesn’t notice that the light’s turned green until someone behind her honks. she steps on the gas, but the idiot behind her still cuts in front of her.

“asshole,” she grumbles, throwing them a middle finger for good measure. vi glances to her right at ekko, who’s scribbling something in his sketchbook despite only the streetlamps outside providing light. “so, what made you….realize that you wanted something more?”

ekko closes his book, smiling to himself. 

“honestly? it was kinda a million little things, but what it really comes down to is that she’s the only person i could spend every second of my life with, and i’d still want more time. and, in my experience….it’s better to tell someone how you feel sooner rather than later.”

“or, some people prefer to wait a few weeks,” powder mumbles, stirring awake. “nice try, mister, but no interfering. i’m not losing 20 bucks.”

“wait — you’ve bet on my love life?”

ekko smirks. “so it is love.”

vi shrugs, pretends that she doesn’t immediately picture you in your kitchen, making her banana pancakes at 2am when she hears the word love. 

“it doesn’t matter.”

because, it really doesn’t matter. 

you’re out with someone else right now. 

it’s over before it really had a chance to begin.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

cupcake 

Hey, Vi

Just wanted to say good game today

You played brilliantly

Violet

k

cupcake

No need for the attitude

I was just trying to be nice

Violet

my apologies!!!

thank you SO much for recognizing my talent captain kiramman

i feel like i’m actually worth something now!!!

cupcake

Bitterness isn’t a good colour on you, darling

Violet

im NOT your darling

cupcake

I’m aware

I saw you earlier with that girl

Are you together? 

Violet

idk

are you still with maddie?

cupcake

Actually, we broke up

I was hoping you and I could chat

Violet

what’s in it for me?

cupcake

The chance to reconnect with an old friend

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you can excuse vi no longer attending the weekly team meeting. she finished her 100 hours around thanksgiving, so technically she didn’t need to be there anymore.

maybe you could excuse her ignoring your calls, or leaving your texts on read. it’s finals season, and she did mention picking up a few extra shifts to save up for christmas presents. 

but you simply can’t excuse vi walking into sappho’s with caitlyn fucking kiramman, ordering drinks from you like you’re absolute strangers.

“what the fuck, vi?” you seethe. 

vi glances at her date. caitlyn’s waiting for her back at a table, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pretty face.

“what, should i have ordered something else? not every girl likes cherry coke and rum.” 

you glare at her from across the counter, but start preparing their drinks nonetheless. 

“why are you with her?” you throw some ice in a glass, the cubes clinking aggressively against the crystal. “are you back together?”

vi has the audacity to roll her eyes at you. “why’d you care?”

you catch yourself before saying something you’ll regret, something about liking her more than you definitely should considering the agreement the two of you had made. 

clearly, vi doesn’t feel the same way; it’s not worth spilling your guts to her at your place of work. 

“because we’re friends.”

“yeah, right,” vi scoffs. “you’re jealous, which you have no right to be because you’re seeing someone, too.”

you accidentally pour a double shot of vodka. you don’t really care, and mix the drink anyways.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“i’m talking about the date you went on the night of my championship game.”

“what date?” you slam the glasses in front of vi, so hard that you’re lucky they didn’t break.

“oh, don’t play dumb.” vi spits your name like it’s poison. “this whole thing started because you said you didn’t want a relationship, when really you just didn’t want a relationship with me. you used me until someone better came along. you lied to me.”

her eyes are glazed over, her voice shaking ever so slightly. you’re not sure if you’re more hurt or angry by what she’s saying, but it cuts deep; you continue as though you aren’t bleeding out in front of her.

“i don’t want a relationship with anyone and certainly not with you —”

“excuse me! are we able to order something?” someone with bright green hair and a septum piercing waves their hand in front of your face.

“yeah, just give us a second —”

“look, you and your girlfriend can fight on your own time.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!” you and vi snap simultaneously. 

you glare at each other.

vi grabs the glasses from the counter, and walks away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

it took many brainstorming sessions, many boring conversations with potential donors, and many, many tears, but you managed to secure enough funding to keep the women’s centre going for the foreseeable future.  

it was a team effort, of course, so you just want everyone to enjoy this open mic night, the last event of the semester — even though you are weighed down by the absence of a certain someone.

the gallery space on campus that you rented out is both cozy and electric, decorated with fairy lights on the walls, with pillows and blankets on the floor for people to sit and watch performances. there’s a table with drinks and snacks, a corner for people to make art if they’re inspired. 

you’re rearranging the food, watching gert perform an original song when mel slides in next to you, wearing a gorgeous white dress with gold accents. 

“do you mind running to the office? we’re out of paint.”

“really? people don’t usually use the paint.”

“well, it seems to be quite popular tonight.”

“it’s fine. we still have lots of other stuff. they can just collage or something.”

mel shakes her head. “i really think you should go get more paint.”

“maybe ask sky? i should stay here —”

“you could use a break, too,” mel cuts you off, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve been nonstop all day; the rest of us can hold down the fort for a little while.”

you concede, mostly because she’s right and you don’t have the energy to argue. 

when you get to the office, you’re surprised to find the lights on. even more surprised that someone’s already there, sitting on the zebra-striped couch.

“vi?”

she jumps slightly when you say her name.

“mel texted me,” she rushes out like she’s been caught red-handed. “said she needed help with something she’d been planning.” 

you frown, until you realize why mel must have sent you here, specifically. 

you haven’t seen vi since that night at sappho’s; you’d been quite a mess after your shift, ranting to mel on the phone about how she’d been right and you should have been more careful, how you don’t know what you did that ruined whatever you and vi had, and you really don’t know what you can do to fix it.

you’re both too stubborn to reach out to the other, so it seems like mel decided to take matters into her own hands. 

“yeah, i doubt she’s coming,” you tell vi. 

“okay,” vi says, but she doesn’t move. “i, uh, i was hoping i’d run into you, though.”

“yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at vi, crossing your arms. “needed another vodka martini for your piltover princess.”

“she’s not — we’re not together.”

“oh,” you exhale. the animosity you were holding towards her evaporates, but doesn’t completely disappear. you watch her, watching you stand by the doorway. 

there are so many things you want to tell her, but you don’t even know where to start. you know that you’ve hurt her. she hurt you, too.

but, also:

you miss the cloudy blue-gray of her eyes, the scar on her upper lip. 

you miss her.

“do you wanna come sit?”

after being so far away from vi, for what feels like forever, you don’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. your knees brush together as you settle next to her on the couch, a jolt of electricity passing through your body at the contact.

“so, i admit that —”

“vi, you were right —”

both of you stop your sentences short, chuckling nervously. you each urge the other to continue, and only get caught in a similar mess:

“i fucked up,” vi blurts out.

“i lied to you,” you confess at the same time.

an awkward, unfamiliar silence hangs above you; you’re not sure what to do next. 

vi takes the leap. she tells you that mel explained everything: that you had to attend a dinner with alumni and potential donors on the same night of her championship game, but you kept it from vi since it was already a big moment for her; that you haven’t been on a real date with anyone else since september. vi apologizes for jumping to conclusions and falling back into caitlyn’s arms, shutting you out when she should have just talked to you.

you’re the girl who was her first kiss, she says. the girl who lingered in a vague memory, appeared in the fiction of her daydreams, and then suddenly became too real. 

“i like you. i really fucking like you. and if it has to be as a friend, that’s fine because i don’t want to lose you.” vi takes a shattered breath, blinking back tears. she fiddles with the ring on her index finger, anxiously bouncing her knee. you place your hand there to steady her, and she exhales. “i guess i’m just not sure….when you said you liked me that night at the restaurant….is that what you lied about?” 

vi’s practically doe-eyed, waiting for you to respond. 

you shake your head. 

“i lied when i said that i didn’t want a relationship with you,” you admit, and the hint of a smile dances across her lips. “i had this major crush on you, you know? every time you came into sappho’s….i couldn’t help it. and then you showed up here and we became friends, and then we started….well, you know the rest.”

“duh. i was there,” vi jokes, easing into her usual, playful self.  

“i can’t do the whole casual thing,” you continue, rubbing circles into her knee with your thumb. “i know we made a promise, but i just can’t, not with you. it’s like…in every other relationship i’ve been in, i was trying to run out the clock. with you, though, with us, i feel like there’s never enough time —”

vi grabs your neck and crashes her mouth onto yours before you can finish your sentence. 

you’ve kissed each other many times, in many different places, in many different ways, but never like this: like you’re both willing to break one promise if it means forging a new one.

“will you be my girlfriend, violet rose atlas?” you whisper as you pull away, lips brushing against hers.  

you start to count the freckles on her cheeks as she beams at you, pulls you into her lap.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[sunder-the-gold]

Imagine making meals because your hobby is cooking, but you have to stay in the kitchen and don't get to see into the cafeteria where the food is served to the people.

In a restaurant like AO3, the hit counter tells you how many people walked into the restaurant. But ONLY that much.

It doesn't tell you how many people immediately walked back out because of the smell.

It doesn't tell you how many people tried some of your food, but found it so mid (middling, unremarkable, boring) that they left without even bothering to insult or criticize it.

It doesn't tell you how many people liked it and read all the way to the end.

Kudos tells you that someone liked... something. Was it the appetizer, the main course, or the dessert? Did they love the appetizer only to walk away without a word because the main course displeased them?

Bookmarks aren't much more informative than Kudos. The reader may rescind them if your work takes a truly offensive turn for their tastes, but that's assuming they even remember they have a bookmark feature.

Number of subscriptions is a little more informative, since people can get emails about updates, which might get them to remember to unsubscribe. I confess that there are a few fanfics I keep getting notifications about for YEARS because I intend to return to them 'eventually' but I don't feel like catching up on them 'now'.

A comment on the latest chapter is, by far, the clearest sign that someone probably read ALL of the story up to that point.

A comment is also the only way that a writer can learn what their audience loved or hated about the execution of the story.

There's not much you can or should do about people who don't like the SUBJECT MATTER of your story. At least as long as you tagged, labeled, categorized, and summarized it properly.

But just because you're writing what you and a lot of other people want to read, doesn't mean you can't want to improve the WAY you write about that passion.

what the whole "please comment on fic you like, it will encourage more writing" vs. "fic writers shouldn't be writing for engagement and validation" debate fails to really grasp, for me, is that comments shouldn't be boiled down to "engagement and validation" in the first place. by which i mean: comments aren't payment for a service, they are communication and connection. they represent the audience reaching back.

i don't write just for myself. are you kidding me? the point of storytelling, to me, is to present certain narrative arguments and produce or encourage an emotional response to them. That communication is essentially useless if there's no endpoint, no listener. To me, there is no point if I'm not communicating with someone. When I write, I am talking to a reader. If you've read anything I've written, then I was talking TO YOU.

you are well within your right to consume fic as ~content~ and withhold your "payment" out of a sense that the writer should be satisfied at having created anything at all in an unresponsive void. but please be aware that it feels really good when you talk back.

[holmsister]

Tragically I'm not a work but here have a nsft labru hc

One of my fave hcs ever is that while kabru is good at dirty talking just in general because of course he is, laios is just. Unhinged. He has no filter he just drops the filthiest shit you've ever heard with the most :| deadpan and kabru just has to Deal with it. Thankfully Laios is just socially aware enough to know such conversations are best had only with Kabru himself so like he won't start talking about holes in front of the Kakha Brud ambassador but once he's drunk all bets are off so he has to watch his alcohol intake carefully especially after one incident of, indeed, starting to talk about holes in front of the Kakha Brud ambassador.

This was before him and Kabru started dating so it was monster holes but tragically after him and Kabru started fucking his interest zero'd in on Kabru's body, which, even more tragically, is a human body and therefore a place where his and Kabru's interest intersect, and now you'd have like.

Kabru: *briefing Laios on important event in the near future*

Laios: ...

Kabru: you are so clearly not listening to me.

Laios: SORRY sorry I was just. Thinking.

Kabru: Laios.

Laios: The way you taste when i eat you out-

Kabru: LAIOS.

Laios: -it changes, that's a given, but I was wondering if it was more about your cycle or it was just a factor of like what you're eating and stuff like that? Do you think there are books on that or-

Kabru: ...for FUCK'S sake. *making sure the doors are locked* alright. We are in the first week after menstruation, note it down. I had some cheese, figs and a glass of white wine for lunch.

Laios: *licking his lips as he scribbles in his notebook* first week... white wine...

Kabru: *undoing his breeches* and we are coming back to the briefing afterwards, alright? You aren't gonna get out of this.

Laios: of course! Don't worry, you know I absorb knowledge better after a good meal!

Kabru: LAIOS!

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[skyward-floored]

Shatter

(Alternate title: Warriors Gets Jarred)

HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY @adrift-in-thyme!!!! I finally finished the fic I said I was going to write for you :3 I hope you like it, and I’m sorry once again for taking I don’t even know how many months to finish this XD

Ao3 link

————————————————————

“Ooooh, there’s something wrong about this place, I just know it.”

Time more than agreed with Wind’s anxious mutter, studying the trees at the side of the path. At first glance there was nothing strange with the forest they were all trekking through, but the longer they walked, the more nervous they all got. The forest was almost completely silent, no sound of squirrels in the underbrush, no birdsong in the trees. There was no life except for the foliage, and even that seemed strangely off, leaves more grey than green, flowers oddly dull.

Something seemed to hang in the very air, heavy and dark, and Time knew all of them had caught onto it, ears flicking, eyes darting towards shadows.

Something was wrong.

“Where did you say you think this great fairy was again?” Four asked in a quiet voice, and Hyrule hesitated, looking around the forest.

“There’s a magic source of some kind up ahead,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. “But these woods... they aren’t natural.”

“So something’s definitely up then,” Legend mumbled from his place on Twilight’s back. “Wonderful.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” Sky quietly pointed out, gesturing with his arm that wasn’t in a sling. “It’s the hope of a Great Fairy through the unsettling woods or nothing.”

The rest of them murmured agreement, and Time looked back at all the heroes, worn down from a series of long fights, almost everyone injured without any supplies left to heal them. Legend was the worst off, a deep wound in his side and a concussion to boot, but they were all weary and in need of healing, broken arms and twisted ankles, bruises and cuts galore.

But they were in an in-between time period, one none of them recognized. They’d come across no towns or anywhere else where they could buy supplies, just monsters and wilderness, empty forests and fields.

So it was the Great Fairy or nothing.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves around them, and Time wasn’t the only one who stiffened, his ears twitching. Something like a laugh drifted on the wind, but it faded before he could pinpoint it.

He saw Warriors swallow next to him, and Wind rub anxiously at the dark bruise on his cheek.

“...Come on. This way,” Time said finally, able to sense the same magic Hyrule was following, and they all trailed after him, walking closer together then they had been previously.

It wasn’t long before the top of a structure poked through the trees, and Time steered towards it, following an overgrown, barely-there path. An old temple-like building rose up from the trees, thick vines clawing at dark stone, and they all paused to look up at it.

“This is it,” Time confirmed. Hyrule silently nodded in agreement.

They all exchanged looks, but nobody spoke further, and they all trailed inside.

Time relaxed just a bit at the familiar brush of fairy magic that drifted faintly around them, but he realized quickly that there weren’t any fairies inside, the space oddly dark. The Links looked around, studying dark stone and broken windows, and Time walked towards the pool of water on the far side of the room.

His steps were loud on the stones, and Time studied the pool uneasily, the water inside dull and dark.

Strangely dark.

“...This is really a fairy fountain?” Wind asked as they all gathered in the middle of the area, and Wild limped over to the pool, setting a foot near the water.

“I mean... it kinda looks like one,” Wild said, leaning out over the water. “Just... weird.”

“Careful Champion,” Warriors cautioned, slowly moving to stand beside him. “Something here isn’t...”

“Oh, some Heroes have come to visit, have they?”

All of them froze at the echoing voice, strangely harsh to their ears. Hyrule flinched and Warriors stiffened, but Time barely noticed, gaze focused on the pool.

The water was rippling, bubbles appearing on its surface.

“Seems they’ve come seeking help,” the voice continued, tittering when they all took a step back. “Oh, even injured they’re strapping specimens indeed...”

“Ew,” Legend muttered.

The voice laughed, and Time stepped forward, ignoring his unease. “We’ve come in need of healing,” he spoke in a level voice, and the voice went silent a moment. Time was sure he could feel eyes on them all.

“Healing, hmm... I don’t know. You all look so dashing with blood on you...”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Four whispered as the voice hummed. Time nodded, still watching the water. Great Fairies could be on the... unsettling side, but not like this, and he could feel the dark magic in the air now, thick and pungent, like an oily weight that sank into his skin.

Time set a hand on his sword.

“No. It’s not,” he said grimly.

“Does this magic feel familiar to anyone else?” Twilight whispered, a hand ghosting along his side where the Shadow’s axe had struck.

“Something’s wrong here,” Hyrule breathed behind them, hand still pressed to his chest. Time glanced at him and saw his eyes darting around the room, sweat beading on his brow. “Something’s really wrong here...”

“I think we need to leave,” Sky whispered.

The voice laughed like it had heard him, and they all went silent, watching the bubbling water.

“Leave? You just got here! Such fine heroes deserve a rest,” the voice almost purred, and Time‘s grip tightened on his sword. “Lovely specimens indeed... in fact...”

The water abruptly stilled, and the Links held their breath, every muscle in Time’s body alert and tensed.

“...I think I’ll keep you!”

The ground began to tremble under their feet, and Time felt the hair on his neck stand up, the water somehow growing darker as it bubbled again.

“Boys, get away from the—!”

A pale hand shot out of the water at the same time Warriors shoved Wild away, the hand closing around Warriors and pulling him under with a cry.

“Captain!” Twilight gasped as Time’s heart lurched, and they all ran to the water with their weapons drawn, Four helping Wild back to his feet.

The water had gone still again, but it was still frothy from the recent movement, and Time scanned its depths, looking frantically for any sign of Warriors below.

Nothing but dark water met him.

“I’m going to find him,” Sky said suddenly, marching forward as he pulled a necklace with a scale on it from under his shirt.

Time moved to stop him, prepared to argue that he couldn’t swim with a broken arm, but then the ground lurched under their feet. They were all knocked off-balance, and Twilight nearly dropped Legend with how harshly it shook. Time had to steady Wild, and they’d all barely regained their footing when something erupted from the pool, water splashing outwards and nearly soaking them as a laugh echoed around the room, unusually harsh and high-pitched.

Hyrule gasped and several of the others did along with him at the sight, horror rooting Time in place at the sight of what stood before them.

It was a Great Fairy, but wrong.

Her skin was ashen, her hair dull and lifeless, lacking any of the usual sparkle it should hold. Her dress was tattered, and the vines twirling around it and her body were dead and grey, like bleached bones of the plants that had once grown there. The only spot of color she sported were her eyes, and those barely counted, a sickly yellow and glowing with malice.

But worst of all was the sight of the large bottle she held possessively in her hand, long nails curled around the jar as she gently caressed it.

Warriors just barely visible inside with his hands pressed to the glass, soaking wet and looking absolutely terrified.

“Captain!” Sky gasped, and Time could only stare at Warriors for several moments, unable to tear his gaze away from the hero trapped inside of the glass.

Warriors met his eyes, his own unusually bright with fear, and all of a sudden Time was eleven again.

“Great fairy, we need your help. We can’t win this battle without you.”

Mask stood to the side as the captain knelt by the pool, the clash of weapons and screams of monsters and men coming from right outside. The squad they’d brought with them shifted uneasily as something howled, and Mask swallowed.

The Great Fairy was their last hope of victory here, and if she wasn’t willing to help them... it wouldn’t be pretty.

Right when he was about to grab the mask at his hip and see if he could do anything, the Great Fairy finally rose from her pool, leaning over the edge to smile at the captain.

“Of course I can help, little hero,” she laughed, bells in her voice. “...But not without a price. I trust you are willing?”

Something in her voice made Mask frown, but the Captain nodded without hesitation, determination on his face. The Great Fairy grinned at the confirmation, and leapt out of the water with a laugh and a twirl, soaking a few of the soldiers standing too close.

Then she snatched up the Captain, and dropped him into a bottle she pulled from thin air.

“Hey!” Mask shouted, but the Great Fairy waved a dismissive hand at him.

“It’s just until we’ve won,” she giggled, holding the bottle up so she could see the Captain better. He took a step back, eyes wide and uncertain. “Unless he’d like to stick around afterwards... but regardless, I need some help, and you’re just who I need.”

Her eyes glinted a bit.

“Let’s go, little hero. Show me how well you can swing that little sword of yours.”

The harsh laugh rang through the air again, and Time snapped back to the present as the Great Fairy gave the bottle in her hand a light shake.

Warriors looked ill.

“Let him go!” Wind shouted, tightly gripping his sword, but the Great Fairy only laughed again. “He’s not yours, let him out!”

“On the contrary little hero,” she smiled, unnatural and wide. “I caught him, so he’s mine. That’s how it works.”

“As a Great Fairy you should know that that’s not how it works,” Time said as he glared up at the corrupted fairy. “Release him.”

“No,” the fairy said plainly, and Warriors pressed his back to the glass as she held him up mere inches from her face. She smirked. “I haven’t had a toy this good-looking in a long time.”

Warriors lost what little color he had left, and Twilight chucked a boomerang at the fairy’s arm.

She flicked it out of the air with a tsk, the weapon clattering to the ground, and her gaze narrowed, the bit of red around her pupils seeming to grow.

“It’s not polite to attack your hostess.”

“Then release him!” Wild shouted, nocking an arrow and aiming it towards her. “None of us are staying with you, you creep!”

The Great Fairy looked at him, and sighed.

“Well then I suppose I have no choice.”

Dark magic glowed at her fingertips, and suddenly they were all scrambling for cover, most of them only dodging the burst of darkness she threw at them at the very last second.

“This must be the Shadow’s work,” Four wheezed as he ducked behind the same piece of stone Time had sheltered behind. “What else would be able to corrupt fairy magic like this?”

“It has his dirty fingerprints all over it,” Wild snarled from nearby, pulling out a stronger bow from his pouch.

“But how did he corrupt a great fairy?” Hyrule said in dismay, and Twilight yanked him out of the way of another harsh spray of dark magic.

“It doesn’t matter how he managed it, we need to get rid of it,” Time shouted over another harsh laugh. “And save Warriors.”

“How do we do that?!”

The Great fairy kept laughing, and the piece of wall they were hiding behind was suddenly destroyed, the Links scrambling away from the debris. The bottle was swung at them all as they scattered, and Warriors flew by in a blur of color.

Wild whirled around and shot off a round of arrows, several hitting their mark, but the corrupted fairy didn’t even seem to notice, still blasting magic and swinging her bottle.

Time ran forward with his blade raised, and the Great Fairy twirled out of his way. She laughed at his attempts to hit her, then slammed him backwards with the bottle she held.

Time managed to get his shield up, but he was still knocked to the ground, pain radiating up his arm where he’d taken the brunt of the hit.

He thought he heard a muffled cry from Warriors, but the bottle was swinging around too much for him to be sure. Wind covered him while he got to his feet, and Time joined the others as they tried to get close enough to the Great Fairy to actually fight her.

There was too much magic flying around though, dark bursts that made Time’s stomach roll when one exploded too close to him. Between the magic and the way the fairy swung the bottle Warriors was trapped in, nobody could get close enough to cause any real damage.

A larger ball of darkness formed in one of the Great Fairy’s hands, and everyone ran for cover again as more dark magic exploded through the room. Most of them ended up behind a larger chunk of stone, and Twilight slid down next to Time, Legend no longer on his back.

“This isn’t working,” Twilight growled, laughter ringing through the room. “Any suggestions?”

“I’d try the Master Sword, but I can’t get close enough,” Sky wheezed from nearby, his face worried and grim. “Her magic would doubtlessly help, but I don’t know how...”

“Oh! Light arrows!” Wind said with a gasp. He wiped some dust off his face, then began fishing in his pouch. “If it’s dark magic, then light arrows should help!”

“But will it hurt her?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Time sighed.

“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice. Hopefully this will purify her. We can only hope for the best at this point, we don’t have the strength for a drawn-out battle.” He looked around at them all. “If anyone has long-range light magic or weapons, use it now.”

Warriors needs us.

Dark magic hit the stone they were sheltering behind, and the Links scattered again, several grabbing in their pouches.

Wind quickly took out his bow, and pulled back an arrow, the tip lighting up in gold. It grazed the fairy’s arm, and she shrieked, the sound so piercing Time and the others put their hands to their ears.

“It worked!”

“Keep it up!” Time shouted, getting his own bow out.

He shot a light arrow of his own at the Great Fairy, but she dodged, eyes flashing with anger.

“Insolent boys!” she screamed, blasting more magic outwards.

Her attacks came twice as fast as she avoided the light magic, but her aim was less precise in her anger. Time found himself dodging so much he only had time to shoot off a single light arrow before he had to move again to avoid all kinds of stray shots.

He caught sight of Legend tucked behind a piece of stone, still looking dizzy, but shooting some kind of light magic anyway. Hyrule was beside him also shooting arrows, and the Great Fairy grew more and more enraged, shooting magic and throwing her bottle around much more violently.

There was so much noise he couldn’t be sure, but Time could swear he heard Warriors cry out more than once, and his throat tightened with fear.

We need to get him out of there, now.

Time paused in his assault, slipping behind a piece of stone and waiting for the Great Fairy’s attention to be drawn to the other side of the room. Someone cried out, and Time ran forward and went to a knee as he carefully aimed.

He shot an arrow directly at the Great Fairy’s wrist, and as it pierced her flesh, Time felt some kind of magic snap, a protection he hadn’t realized was there.

The fairy shrieked as she clutched at her wrist, and the bottle with Warriors dropped from her grasp.

“Captain!”

Wind’s cry was cut off by the bottle shattering as it hit the ground, broken glass scattering like fallen stars across the dark stone. Time was already running, and he slid to his knees beside Warriors, heedless of the glass he was crouching in.

Blood ran down Warriors’ face from a cut on his temple, and he didn’t move when Time gave him a cautious shake. Dozens of cuts from the shattered glass trickled tiny lines of red across his skin, bruises already forming from his time in the bottle. Wind ran up seconds later, and the sailor’s face went pale as he looked at the captain.

“Warriors?!” he said frantically, but the captain didn’t react.

Time quickly checked Warriors’ breathing, relieved when he felt his chest going up and down. But his leg was at an odd angle, blood still weeping from various cuts all over him, and Time swallowed, taking in how truly battered Warriors was.

His mind fell back to the war again against his will, the Great Fairy fighting with the captain in her bottle. Some of the men had muffled laughs as she’d done some especially odd attacks, and Mask had snickered at a few of them as well, ignoring the flicker of unease that had still been bothering him. His laughter had died the moment the battle had ended though, and the Great Fairy had shaken the captain out of the bottle.

Link had barely been standing, and as soon as the Great Fairy had left he’d emptied his stomach into a bush. He was shaking so hard he could barely walk, and Mask had had to help him back to camp, supporting him as they walked.

But he couldn’t do anything to stop the shaking, couldn’t take away the look in his eyes.

The bruises and other injuries the captain had gotten from being knocked around in the bottle stayed with him for days, but the fear in his eyes had stuck with Time ever since.

That was the first time he’d realized that his big brother wasn’t as unshakable as he tried to appear.

Warriors groaned, and Time snapped back to the present, looking down as Warriors’ eyes flickered.

“Captain, can you hear me?” he asked urgently, placing his hand back on Warriors’ shoulder. He flinched at the touch, breath stuttering, and Time quickly removed his hand.

“Warriors?” Wind asked again, and Warriors opened his eyes a little more, looking dazed.

And scared.

“Link, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Time said, throwing his shield up to block a stray blast of darkness. And despite knowing the answer, he added, “Can you stand?”

Warriors breathed in shakily.

“I...” he croaked, voice barely a whisper. “N... dunno.”

He begin to faintly shiver, and Time breathed out, looking at the fight, then back to him. The other Links were doing their best to keep the Great Fairy’s attention away from the three of them, but he didn’t know how long it would last with how battered their group was.

They were all flagging.

“I’ll go help them,” Wind said, giving Warriors a fearful glance before looking back at the battle. “...Can you get him somewhere safe?”

“I will.”

Wind nodded and ran off, lighting up another light arrow to shoot as he rejoined the battle. Time turned his attention back to Warriors, and saw that his eyes had slid closed again, his expression tense as his breath softly wheezed.

“Captain. I’m going to help you up, we need to get you out of here,” Time said. Warriors didn’t reply, and Time carefully pulled him up, not entirely carrying him, but supporting almost all of his weight. Warriors stiffened at his touch, then began shivering harder. “It’ll only be for a moment, hold on.”

Time stood, keeping his shield at the ready as he began to get them as far away from the water as possible. The Great Fairy screeched in rage again as she was struck by another light arrow from Wind, and Time heard someone shout.

Twilight dodged his way over to Time and Warriors, blood smeared in his hair, and wordlessly covered them as they moved further away.

Warriors’s head hung forward, blood dripping from his face as his breath shuddered, and Time didn’t stop until they were safely behind the stonework, carefully lowering Warriors to the ground. He didn’t even know if the captain was awake any more, and Time’s heart pounded loudly in his ears.

“Warriors?” he asked, patting his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

The captain twitched a little, and let out a full-body shudder as the Great Fairy yelled. His eyes stayed shut though, and Time knelt beside him, unsure of where to begin. They had no supplies apart from bandages, and he could only do so much with those.

“Captain,” he said in a cautious voice, but Warriors didn’t move. “Link, where are you most hurt?”

Warriors only gave a small shake of his head, faintly shivering. Twilight made his way over to them mere moments later, and he kneeled beside Warriors with a wide look in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Captain?”

Warriors swallowed again, and looked like he tried to raise his head, but couldn’t quite manage to, still shaking and bleeding. He choked on his next breath, and Twilight looked at Time as Warriors’ breathing picked up, rasping and trembling.

“Warriors,” Twilight said more gently, fingers twitching like he had to fight the urge to comfort him with touch. “It’s alright, the others are handling things.”

“We need to tend to your injuries,” Time added, pulling out the few bandages he had left. “Your head is bleeding quite a bit, as is the rest of you.”

Warriors swallowed thickly, and Time watched as he shook harder than the leaves on the Great Deku Tree did when the first spring winds blew in.

His mask had cracked, the one he easily slipped on in battle and stressful situations, hiding his true emotions behind it. Warriors was trying desperately to scrape it back together, but he’d been struck too hard this time. Being put in a bottle again had slashed open scars that had been hastily bandaged in the first place, and now there was no going back.

Not until the threat was gone, at least.

Warriors’s breath hitched, and Time looked at him, bloody and broken, flinching every time the Great Fairy made a sound. Time’s hand was resting near Warriors’s own, and Time reached out, gently twining his fingers with his brother’s.

“You’re safe, Link,” he said quietly, and when Warriors didn’t pull away, he put his other hand on top of his. “Me and Twilight are going to patch you up.”

We won’t let her touch you.

Warriors’s fingers shakily clutched back at Time’s, and Time nodded at him, pulling out his canteen to hopefully wash any glass out of his injuries. Twilight stayed close, his sword still held at the ready, and Time was already planning how to convince him to also be patched up as he cleaned Warriors’s cuts. He hadn’t missed the blood in his descendant’s hair.

Warriors pulled in a shaking breath as Time worked, swallowing as he wiped some blood from his face, fingers shaking. His eyes stayed closed, but Time knew he was awake with how he flinched and kept his face as neutral as possible. He didn’t really succeed in that regard, but he tried anyway.

His other hand stayed firmly in Time’s though, and even though it made his job harder, Time never let go.

Someone shouted nearby, much closer then before, and Time glanced up, frowning as the ground shook beneath them. He held tighter to Warriors, and then jumped as Twilight shouted in alarm.

Time whirled around, and saw a face that should have been beautiful leering mere feet away from them, eyes blazing.

Somehow the Great Fairy had gotten past the other heroes.

“You... are... MINE!” she screamed, voice somehow lyrical and ragged. She stretched a hand out, fingers like gnarled branches of an old, dead tree, and her eyes glinted with desire.

Warriors finally opened his eyes at her scream, and there was such an expression of terror on his face that Time felt something inside himself snap.

He clasped Warriors’s hand that was still in his, and drew on the strength of his gauntlets to bodily throw him out of the way, tossing him towards Twilight. He knew the rancher would catch him, and in the same movement, he grabbed his bow again, calling on the dregs of magic he had remaining.

With her initial target gone, the Great Fairy lunged for Time, dark magic swelling at her fingers. The shouts of the others rang in Time’s ears, but as he drew back a light arrow, he felt strangely calm, even as the sickly feeling of darkness began to reach him.

He was doing this for his big brother.

Time released the arrow at the same time the Great Fairy shot her magic, and the two met in the middle with a shear of pure energy.

It threw Time backwards, and as a scream louder than any of the others rang through the room, something else seemed to snap, thrumming in the very air around them.

Time painfully hit the ground, an oddly-colored smoke rising off of him, but he lurched to his feet anyway. There was an awful smell in his nose and mouth, and his head spun as he stumbled backwards.

Warriors.

Where was Warriors?

Time heard a muffled shout, and turned, lurching towards the smears of green and blue he could see nearby. His skin burned as he moved, muscles screaming as loud as the Great Fairy was, and Time dove forward and covered Warriors and Twilight’s heads.

All three of them closed their eyes against the wave of energy that suddenly rushed outward, rustling their hair and making Time flinch. It only made his body hurt more, but Time gritted his teeth and held on, covering as much of Warriors and Twilight as he possibly could.

Then it went deathly quiet.

Time felt his hands shaking as he waited a moment to be sure, then pulled back, gently releasing Warriors. He seemed no more worse for wear, and Time exhaled, relieved at the sight of both him and Twilight unhurt by the magic.

Twilight was staring at him with a wide-eyed look, but Time ignored it, and somehow got to a shaky knee so he could look around the room. He saw the other Links picking themselves up, wiping blood off injuries, helping others stand.

The water in the pool had stilled, and was now light and clear, faint sparkles drifting on the surface. The whole room seemed brighter now, less oppressively heavy, and Time could feel that the dark magic had been cleansed.

The Great Fairy was nowhere to be seen.

Wild let out a weary cheer from the other side of the room, then listed to the side, Wind barely catching him. They both toppled to the ground, giggling a bit hysterically, and Twilight faintly smiled when Time looked back at him. His descendant still looked worried, but he was just as relieved the fight was over.

Warriors stayed unmoving halfway on his lap, blood still trickling from his brow.

Time swallowed, feeling again every injury he himself had sustained, and he slid back to the floor, placing his hand over Warriors’s again.

His brother’s eyes flickered open, and Time gave him a small smile.

“She’s gone,” he rasped softly, and Warriors exhaled, the sound exhausted with relief. “We did it.”

“You mean you did it,” Twilight added, looking a little awestruck. “I don’t know how you threw the captain and then turned around and shot that arrow barely a second afterwards, but it was mighty impressive.”

“Practice,” Time said with a small smile that hurt to make, and helped Warriors sit up. Warriors held on a bit tighter for a minute, then let go, still trembling just a bit. Time studied him worriedly, but he was interrupted by Twilight fussing over his own wounds, pulling away with a hiss as he touched painful skin. The magic had burned him... more than a bit.

Everyone shuffled their way over to where Time and Twilight were, giving them and Warriors concerned looks. Everyone was at least as bad off as them though, and both Legend and Four were unconscious, so Time thought they were all being rather hypocritical.

A sudden chiming noise rang softly through the room, and the heroes all tensed as the water in the pool rippled. Time recognized it for what it meant, but he still watched in suspicion when a head rose slowly from the water, hair glimmering a soft pink.

Warriors stiffened beside him.

The great fairy’s eyes were clear and bright as she looked around at them all, though her face was lined with a deep sadness. The heroes watched her in silence, hands hovering near weapons, and she let out a heartbroken sigh.

“I’m terribly sorry dear heroes,” the she apologized in a whisper, keeping only her head poking out of the pool. “Such a great darkness fell over me... I was not myself. I see I have only made your situation more dire, and I cannot apologize enough.”

She closed her eyes, and the part of Time that was raised alongside the children of the forest grieved when he saw the shining tear that fell down her cheek.

“I owe you all a debt,” she whispered.

“Healing us might be nice,” Wild spoke up, and Twilight elbowed him.

The Great Fairy didn’t seem offended. “Of course, Hero of the Wilds. It is the least I can do.”

She lifted her hands out of the pool, and as water poured from between her fingers, it faded into gentle sparkles that drifted around the room. They floated around and settled across the hero’s injuries, sweeping them away with a touch like that of flower petals.

Hyrule leaned into them, looking grieved, but calm as the sparkles healed him. Legend watched them in silence when he awoke, as did Four and Twilight, and Wind had a thoughtful look on his face as they sealed a gash on his knee. Sky sighed in relief as they twirled up his broken arm, and Wild faintly smiled when the sparkles trickled up his side, healing whatever the cause of the blood all over his hip was.

Warriors tensed as they reached him, not moving an inch as the sparkles sank in around most of his body. Time kept his hand on his shoulder as they drifted past, and Wind slid up to his side as well, both of them watching as they grew thicker around the captain’s leg and forehead for a few moments. The tiny cuts on his skin were sealed, and the bruises faded until they could only barely be seen.

Time felt his own injuries get healed as well, a smell like honeysuckle and morning dew accompanying the light. They soothed the hurt in his chest from the magic recoil, healed the burns and eased the aches and pains he’d already had in addition.

He waved the sparkles away from his scarred eye once they finished, then turned to help Warriors stand, feeling much more relaxed.

The captain looked relaxed as well, oddly enough, though not as much as everyone else. He still watched the Great Fairy with suspicion, even though his trembling had stilled and his expression had settled back to usual.

And he stiffened again when the Great Fairy’s gaze landed on him once more.

She looked at him steadily, eyes shimmering with remorse, and bowed her head. “My deepest apologies, Hero of the Shattered Eras.”

Warriors nodded, and didn’t look her in the eye.

The Great Fairy waited a moment, as if she was hoping he would verbally respond, then turned her gaze away from him and swept it over the rest of the Links.

“Heroes across the ages, I again offer you my thanks for ridding me of the shadows,” she said, her gaze resting on Time as she spoke. “If you wish to remain here and rest, you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish. The little wings should return with my release, and I’m sure some would be happy to accompany you.”

“Thank you,” Time said respectfully, and gave Warriors’s shoulder a squeeze. “But we should be moving on. I thank you for your gift of healing, and I’m glad we could be of service.”

The Great Fairy looked disappointed. But she nodded, and with one last grieved look at them all, slipped back into her pool, a few errant sparkles the only thing left behind.

Warriors drooped when it was evident she was truly gone, and Time wasn’t the only one who looked at him with worry. Nobody said anything about it out loud though, just stayed close, and told him they were glad he was okay. Wild thanked him profusely for pushing him out of the way, and Warriors waved him off with a painfully forced smile.

Wind merely leaned on his arm, and Warriors softly ruffled his hair, the sailor looking at him in relief.

They all turned to leave then, beyond ready to get away from the fountain. But a another soft chime caught their attention, making them look back.

A few sparkles were drifting on the edge of the pool, floating together into a vaguely cylindrical shape. The light swirled around, then flashed, before fading away to reveal a small, crystalline bottle, filled with a deep purple liquid.

Looking at it, Time felt oddly sad.

The Links all looked at the bottle with emotion varying from curiosity to suspicion, and Twilight was the one who finally stepped forward and knelt down to pick it up, his eyes going wide as he studied it closer.

“Great Fairy tears,” he said softly, lifting the bottle with great care.

“What do they do?” Four asked, and Twilight looked at the bottle in wonder.

“They heal any wound. And grant a brief blessing to whoever uses them, one that protects from any harm for a short while,” he said, and Legend whistled.

“I can think of some times that would’ve been handy.”

“No kidding,” Wild said with a small glance at Twilight.

“I suppose it’s another apology,” Sky said quietly, and Twilight hummed, about to place the bottle inside of his pack, then hesitated.

“...Do you want to carry it?” he asked, turning to Warriors. “I... have a feeling it was meant for you.”

Warriors shook his head, and looked away. “No. You can take it.”

Twilight didn’t press, and he nodded and gingerly put the bottle away. Everyone took that as the signal to begin making their way out of the restored fairy fountain, and one by one they stepped out into the sunshine.

Time squinted as the light reached his face, and he looked around at the forest they’d emerged into with wonder. It barely seemed like the same place they’d left earlier—it was like a spell had been broken, and life was returning to the plants and very earth around him. Time even heard a bird singing somewhere above their heads.

Everyone was looking around with content expressions, satisfied despite the tired way they held themselves. It was always good to see evil purged from the land. They’d done a good job today, rough as it had been.

Time looked behind him at where Warriors stood back from the others, still-damp hair shining in the rays of sunlight. Time wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened to him, except for the pallor of his skin, and the blood still staining his clothes.

Time moved closer and gently set an arm around his shoulders, light enough that the captain could pull back if he wished. He felt Warriors stiffen at the touch, but then he abruptly leaned into it, his eyes squeezing shut.

“You all right?” Time asked, soft enough to only be heard by Warriors.

“Yes,” Warriors whispered back, slowly breathing in, and then out. Time moved his arm from his shoulders, and turned to face him so he could see him better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much use in the battle.”

Time felt a sharp prick of guilt, and swallowed. He could still see his brother’s terrified face, the franticness with which he slammed his hands against the bottle, the way he’d been unable to stop shaking after getting out.

How still he’d looked, surrounded by blood and shattered glass.

“It’s hardly your fault,” Time finally replied. “I’m so sorry we weren’t able to free you sooner.”

“You did what you could. I didn’t even know those bottles could break, that was impressive,” Warriors admitted, his expression unreadable. “The light arrows were a good idea. Thank... thank you,” he said in an even softer voice. His shoulders gave one quick shudder, and Time hated how it made him feel. “For getting me out of there.”

Time swallowed, and leaned forward, lightly setting his head against Warriors’s. ”You would do the same, big brother.”

Warriors gave him a hint of a smile, and Time held him just a little closer as they leaned against each other.

They would still need to have a proper discussion of everything, figure out how the Shadow had corrupted a Great Fairy, try to make sure Warriors wouldn’t just brush over this incident like he tended to do. Warriors would doubtlessly try to avoid it, but... the discussion could wait.

For now... Time just wanted to enjoy standing here in the sunshine. The battle won, the danger past.

Warriors closed his eyes, and Time drew him into a proper hug, Warriors letting out a shaky sigh as he let himself be held.

His brother alive and safe beside him.

[tiptoethewordsgo]

hello gravity falls tumblr, someone write a fanfic where the pines family have to break bill out of rehab to help defeat a greater evil and my life is yours

[yourmajestybee]

Me with the live action How to train your dragon, this is a travesty truly

[garbage-creature]

They could never make me hate you Sylvia 🫶😔

God, I wish she'd gotten more attention in the book, she could have been a Cherry Valance parallel EASILY, especially since Dally and Bob were parallels. I mean, they were in essentially the same spot by the end of the book. They'd both been in rocky, tomultuas relationships with violent men who were both dead by the end of the story. I DESPERATELY want to know how Sylvia felt when Dallas died, I want to understand the inner workings of her mind. She could have been so interesting had her character been touched on a little more. Anyways, I think she would have loved the band 'Dazey and the scouts' if she was still alive. I'm a punk rocker Sylvia truther.

Edit: saw this post getting more attention and wanted to add that these are mostly fic ideas and not necessarily canon compliant ideas bc we dont have very much canon Sylvia in the first place lol.

[inkwell-illustrations]

I need more Paulkotho content in my life!!

[teastainedprose]

How about something like Homelander at a meeting with the seven and his wife.

"Wait, wait. I thought we were meeting your wife?" The Deep bursts out, gaze flicking between the two men already within the conference room as the rest of The Seven and Ashley file in. Homelander's smile is strained at best, while Butcher? He's as stone faced as ever. This isn't exactly a spot he ever considered he'd ever be in.

"Bit of an inside joke, ya see." Butcher mutters, stepping up to where Homelander sits to grasp the supe between neck and shoulder. As he tightens his grip, the gold band on his ringer finger catches the light. "Ain't that right, luv?"

Homelander tilts his head up, catching Butcher's eye as he smiles. There's no affection in it, more a predator barring his teeth at a rival. Nothing of the interaction screams that these two are lovers in any sense of the word, let alone a happy couple introducing themselves to The Seven.

An uncomfortable silence follows as everyone else in the room watches the couple. The expressions range from incredulous to utterly baffled. Well, Noir's is blank on account of his mask.

"Homelander- Are you gay?" The Deep sputters out, face pinched in clear confusion as his eyes flick between the two men. "No, you fucking-" A-Train cuts himself off, then takes a breath. "He's bi, like Maeve was." His attention shifts back to Butcher, "Aren't you trying to kill all of us?" Butcher inclines his head, white teeth flashing as he smirks but before he can spit out some British wit The Deep cuts in. "Maeve was bi!?" The Deep's eyebrows jumping up as he turns to stare at A-Train. He leans closer, voice a conspirital whisper. "I thought she was like- A lesbian, ya know?" Homelander has to take a steading breath, squelching the urge to lean over and casually crush The Deep's windpipe. "Boys, boys- Just, stop." Homelander raises a hand to cut off any further conversation as he sighs. He has to take a moment, eyes closing as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. Butcher's hand on his shoulder seems to be half to restrain him and half to keep the supe anchored. "Just- Uh. Don't worry about the labels and yes, we were enemies but- Let's just say we've worked it out."

"Okay, great. Fantastic!", Ashley chirps out in faux cheerfulness while trying not to love her absolute shit. Her mind is spinning with the sheer PR nightmare of introducing the world to the fact that Homelander, Christian ideal supe that he is happens to be a bisexual man and now married to a pardoned terrorist.

[nabanna]

lord help us all I've been given a reason to think about Dracula novel/Drizzt series crossover

I love following canyourfavesurvivecastledracula (I especially love seeing characters I'm not familiar with on there) and they recently got an ask about my little guy Drizzt Do'Urden but didn't know all that much about him BUT YOU SEE (unfortunately for everyone who knows me in any way) this is a crossover of the two major fandoms that have become my entire personality in the past year or so! so as someone who's eagerly awaiting the return of Dracula Daily Season AND reading multiple of the Drizzt series books as we speak (simultaneously! help..) and considers him a blorbo to tenderly and lovingly put in the microwave to watch him dodge the radiation like an ant, I'm taking a crack at it because this looks like fun :D

Making my own post because this is purely to be enrichment in my enclosure and also it's.. gotten So So Very Long.. also pouring one out for my other account where I normally would post this sort of thing that I simply cannot log into anymore for mysterious and unknown reasons. (Literally it's still like There and I can See It but trying to log in takes me to 'make a new blog' pages and... wait I'm silly I think I know why. the email died. no idea how to get back in without the email.)

ANYWAY

To the thought experiment:

Could Drizzt Do'Urden Survive Castle Dracula?

Short answer: Yes, it's not a fun time for him, he saves the baby though!

Long answer:

Using the blog's stated general criteria...

Overall approach to the supernatural:

Is an elf, knows what a vampire is, however D&D vampires work differently from Dracula vampires so he would not have all the information on that front if it came to a confrontation. (Knowing the Drizzt books, it would definitely come to at least one fight or at least a tense chase sequence.)

Also depends on how quickly he clocked that this is, in fact, a vampire, and whether Dracula could catch on to him catching on and spin things in a way that kept Drizzt relatively chill OR decide it's time to strike (which he could probably escape) (though now I'm thinking about Vampire!Drizzt....... no no I shouldn't.... unless.....)

The presence of Guenhwyvar (constellation panther BFF my beloved) would afford him some protection other than Dracula's whims, and companionship which is Very Important as he has been known to go feral without sufficient friendship.

Probably takes all the local superstitions very seriously because where he comes from if someone's like "there are ghosts that come out on certain days" and "there are monsters in these woods" they mean it very Very literally.

Dracula's general inhuman behaviors he could take in stride and adapt to pretty well I think, he's known a lot of really eccentric people and is from Fantasy Zone, so the idea that Dracula isn't human wouldn't be scary or even all that weird. Vampire, yeah that's sus, but just non-human? you walk past a hundred non-humans on a single street in most cities where he's from. Many of the eccentricities might be explainable just by going "Ah, he seems to be some kind of wizard. Yeah that checks out." Doesn't seem to be sleeping on a normal schedule or at all? Drizzt does that too! Sees too well in the dark/doesn't seem to use lights much? Darkvision and light sensitivity, same! Moves inhumanly fast? A little concerning but why not. Tells stories from centuries ago as if he was there? Elves do that all the time and it's because they were, in fact, there. (Also some human wizards do all of that too, just because.)

Now because things work differently between these two settings I'm not sure how much his general familiarity with things in the Forgotten Realms would help him here, like he's taking it all in stride but does he know how to protect himself against a Dracula-type vampire? Does he know magic is so incredibly rare and (apparently) usually evil or does he think this is just an unusually magic-less region?

Whether they would accept the crucifix from the old lady:

He is a polite young man so yes of course he would, and because the lady doesn't know what a drow (or an elf?) is, she probably wouldn't think "evil!!!" like most of the common folk in the Realms do, so much as "weird-looking (yet androgynously beautiful) young man" or depending on the local superstitions may assume he's some sort of fey being? or just like, really exceptionally foreign foreigner.

Assuming she still offers it, he would accept it despite not knowing what sort of deity it's for, because he recognizes it's a token of goodwill and he loves expressions of goodwill. Would definitely go and write about it in his little diary to both wonder what she's so afraid of/what sort of protection it affords, and also gush about the kindness and possibly whether this expands or aligns with his current understanding of morality.

This plus the other Superstitious Behaviors would clue him in that something's up so he'd be going in with that knowledge, prepared to figure out what's going on and what the villagers are so afraid of.

Whether they would go exploring after being told not to:

100% and he might even be stealthy enough to mostly get away with it!

Demonstrably does not like being restricted, only went along with this stuff when he was younger because the indoctrination ensured that he literally had no idea there was any other option (also his dad sparred with him daily to get his energy out so his zoomies were managed)

If Dracula really truly wanted to discourage him from any particular places he might just need to come up with an explanation, but he might also be entertained enough by Drizzt's sneaking and snooping to let him roam and see where it goes. Drizzt is better at stealth than Jonathan but they have different flavors of wet cat charm which Dracula may want to handle differently.

Depending on how you read the scene with the vampire ladies trying to "kiss" Jonathan, like how much of it was vampire charm making him feel kinda into it or potentially more of a paralysis situation, it could go differently just because Drizzt may or may not be able to break out and run away very fast, or just kinda endure it while feeling Really Bad And Gross about the sexual overtones. (Based on instances such as him resisting drugs and exiting the room as fast as possible when a priestess was coming onto him, and going feral to push through a paralyzing poison to prevent an assault on another person.) (I read him as incredibly demisexual and he demonstrates being sex-repulsed to everyone outside of the very short list of people he's actively very close friends with and attracted to.) (His feral side has been known to come out in these types of situations but not all of them and it wouldn't necessarily always work either.)

The girlies would not put him off of exploring for very long but he would likely be trying to avoid all possible run-ins with them from that point forward. Unfortunately for him he is a tasty little guy and I think the girlies would actively mess with him against Dracula's orders, perhaps in part because he's an elf and they find that interesting and engaging. Enrichment for their enclosure! Horrible time for Drizzt. Exactly the way the vampire squad likes it!

Verdict: He has a bad time but he's gotta run around he has the zoomies. Dracula could possibly prevent this, if he wanted to prevent it, by letting him into a training yard of some kind so he can get out his energy.

Ability to manage the whims of a Rich Jerk / hold Dracula's interest:

This one is harder and probably depends on the circumstances of him going to the castle, like what his goal there is, and around what point in the timeline he's at. I haven't gotten through all 30-something books just yet but my answer is Probably?

Just the fact of him being an elf and having some innate magic abilities could possibly be enough for Dracula to find him interesting enough to keep around. He's not a wizard and his innate spells are mostly harmless, more battlefield management than anything, so he's not magically a particularly powerful threat to Dracula, just decently interesting. He could also go on about how magic works where he's from, though going on too much about his inherent drow magic would make him uncomfortable (which Dracula would probably like) and especially like, if he got into the ins and outs of Menzoberranzan specifically.

He would definitely bring out the active listening skills for Dracula's history and war stories. Might want to get examples of any particularly interesting fighting maneuvers. I wonder if Dracula would indulge him in a spar or let him practice? The castle must have a training yard somewhere, but would he let Drizzt keep his weapons/borrow some?

Usually good enough at reading the room to determine when is or is not a good time for the scimitars and the panther (combat mode) to come out.

Not the most charismatic, but insightful and clever. (autism-ass elf. elftism.......)

Raised in a very controlling environment with a strict social hierarchy where he was simultaneously part of a high-ranking noble family but also as far down the social ladder as he could be otherwise (male, youngest child, was supposed to be assigned spell component at birth, doesn't like conforming) so, again, he wouldn't like it but he could probably manage it.

Partly depends on how much effort Dracula is willing to put in to make the Friendship believable and keep Drizzt in the dark, or if he's interesting enough to more carefully balance a web of manipulation around.

I'm gonna say this point gets a Yes

Assuming he realized the vampires are Bad but too dangerous to 2v4, he would be so uncomfortable for most of it but is also funky enough that Dracula would probably find his discomfort and weird-but-trying-to-be-so-polite mannerisms entertaining. Dracula would decide this is his blorbo now. I may be biased but this is tumblr so actually Dracula himself said all of this to me personally in DMs.

Facility for climbing without gear (free soloing):

Lizard fashion? Spider fashion...

He Is On The Walls

Multiple points in the books involve him sneaking around places by climbing on walls and I believe elves are canonically, in general, weirdly good at parkour. So yeah!

Whether they would choose to risk being eaten by vampires over the certain death of being eaten by wolves:

IF he has weapons, the wolves aren't really certain death because he is a whirling tornado of death, I am so sorry wolves. If not then he might be able to parkour out of their way? He probably wouldn't want to fight the wolves though, because he is a disney princess nature lover and would rather free them from Dracula's control if possible.

Depending on how much he could figure out about how vampires work here, he may have some ideas for how to turn a fight against them to his advantage or otherwise.

Wait, this happens after the baby incident, right? If so then he's not getting to this point plot-wise, though he might have come back to try fighting the vampires after saving the baby, and depending on how he's doing that, he might still have to contend with the wolves at some point.

Decision: Doesn't want to go against the wolves at any point, but if necessary, he can out-parkour them.

General analysis from Me:

Main counts on the original post are accurate! He accepts the cross, survives the social situations as long as necessary, and escapes with the baby to give it back to the villagers upset but otherwise intact.

As soon as he realized the vampires were menacing the locals to any extent, he would decide to figure out a way to free the area of their evil. Unfortunately the best way for him to figure out anything about the vampires is to stay in close quarters with them for a little while. He has been known to pretend to side with an enemy to gain information or an advantage in a fight, but I'm not sure how long he could keep it up.

Dracula might string him along with Friendship (Drizzt loves friendship so much if he doesn't have friendship he will explode) but he would have to get his baby-eating roommates to play along and behave or else they could easily freak the guy out too much for it to remain believable.

Either way, Drizzt is not staying in that castle beyond the point of another person (the baby) being put in danger. There's at least one point in the books where he's protecting a baby while fighting some enemies and he always puts the baby's safety first. Also Guen can respawn, so if it's absolutely necessary to, she can get taken to 0 HP distracting the vampires while Drizzt improvises some way to get out of there with the baby intact.

That's as far as "survive Castle Dracula" usually goes because well he got out of the castle alive but now I am also thinking about possible plot beyond that point...

First of all the villagers?? Assuming they saw him as Really Weird Foreigner or perhaps some sort of fair folk rather than Literal Demon Spawn the worst they'd do is probably be very tense and silent after taking the baby back and let him leave uncontested without welcoming him in. Best case scenario is some or all of them, or at least the baby's mother, being grateful enough to help him out a little. But like what's he gonna Do after that? (Also if the villagers think he's some sort of fey guy then would they think there's something up with the baby now...)

I mean he knows there's baby-eating vampires in that castle now and he's very against the idea of leaving baby-eating vampires around. Even if he can't 2v4 all of them plus their minions he'd wanna do something about that. (2v4 rather than 1v4 because Guen counts as one) Would he try to gather allies to assault the castle? If he learned that there's times when he can expect them all to be asleep in their coffins would he try to just go back in and stab them in their coffin-sleep? Would he leave the area if he knows the local people are still in danger or would he reason that he needs to find help and come back?

(Also raising to myself the question of whether this is "specifically only Drizzt has been isekai'd into the novel Dracula" or if there's perhaps a little more crossover type setting blending, or if others from the Realms are in there, is Elminster around I know he's canonically been to Real Life Earth, would Van Helsing have some kind of tangent about how this has allegedly happened before, there's an implication that vampires aren't even Van Helsing's favorite cryptid what if d&d type elves are actually higher on that list and he knows all about them, is it even possible to put something resembling the plot and characters of Dracula into a D&D setting, what if I could make a Domain of Dread out of this–)

No matter what happened, Drizzt would be writing SO many diary entries which is perhaps the true main reason why he would survive, he's got that journaling and diary-keeping swag just like my good friend Jonathan Harker

(This is all assuming he has Guen because if he didn't have Guen he would wilt away of the Miseries. Might un-wilt specifically to save the baby and then re-wilt as soon as he remembered there's no kitty.)

[a-sad-mage]

Redhook gets "Oldman with LORE" privileges

In response to a comment in the Mall Cavern post

Redhook, dispight living a fairly quiet life in Quietlong Cavern, keeps up to date with just about everything that's going on.

Especially since he used to be Will Shane's go-to for Blaster repairs/upgrades. Probably Jimmo Shane as well.

The Shane's probably chat with him as he worked, or more likely just talked, and Redhooked listened.

Because of this, Redhook knows the most off-kilter things ever, especially about Will and Jimmo.

Like Eli drops in because his baster trigger is acting up (and he just really wanted to see Redhook again for whatever reason).

And while he's there, poking at the dodads in the shop while Redhook works. Redhook just drops the most unhinged anecdotes about his dad and grate uncle with zero prompting or explanation.

"You know, your old man once spent an entire week in a Forest Cavern, on a stake out, and temporarily went feral for a bit," Redhook said, not looking up.

"He what -" Eli said, his head snapping to the older man, "Redhook, what do you mean my dad went 'feral'?! What happened? Redhook!"

Redhook does not elaborate.

☆

"Your Uncle Jimmo used to be quitethe Lady's Man back in the day you know. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a couple brats running around causing trouble like he used to!"

"OMF JUST FIX MY TRIGGER!"

☆

"I once punched a pirate."

"Is that how you got your hook?"

"Na, lost it because of a bet"

"What-"

"Anyway I lost my eye to a Shadow Clan creature clawin' at my face"

"YOU WHAT?!-"

☆

Redhook also probably knew of Eli's existence before Will disappeared because he had two specially made blasters.

Will probably commissioned two, one for him and one for Eli, that he was going to give to his son after Eli had spent some time is Slugterra, but you know, he couldn't because he's in the Deep Caverns because Blakks a petty A-whole.

Redhook probably asked about why Will wanted two blasters even though Will doesn't dual wield, and more likely one was a backup.

And Will who subconsciously thinks about Redhook as a grizzled grandfather just blurts out.

"Ones for my son-" and Will immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, looking like a deer in headlights.

"...."

"...."

They just stare at each other for a good while, Will visibly panicking.

"Whats the kids' favorite color?" Redhook finally speaks.

"Eh- wha-?"

"Want me to make it a specific color, or keep it orange? You plan to gift this to your boy when he starts up as the next Shane, right? So why not personalize it a little for him?"

".... Orange is fine"

"Hmph, have it you're way then, just don't come cryin' to me if the kid hates it"

And then years later Eli stumbled into his shop, and at first, Redhook is not convinced that Eli is Will's son, never mind the fact Eli lookes like an almost exact copy of the older Shane.

After that brat comes back in some hours later, more confident than ever, demanding a new blaster so he can protect Quietlong? Redhook finally sees that all to familiar fire, that was just a merger spark hours before.

And if Redhook has a white box with an orange star on it, full of unique balster mods set aside- he wasn't going to say anything. Not until the kid needs it someday. That's the Shane way after all.

thank you for sharing you HC I love it and will cherish it forever in my cold little sad mage heart, @mrros-e also, very honored to be your first reblog☆.

[swaps55]

...did I really just see a poll asking how much art an artist should be EXPECTED to produce?

The answer is zero expectations, jesus fuck. Art you consume for free is a fucking gift, and if you're paying for it, the schedule is between you and the artist.

Can you even imagine feeling that entitled to someone else's creativity. What kind of capitalist dystopian hellscape do we live in.