#So we just have her throw herself from the sky which i will say: lame

[moonilit]

like again i rebloged Rhine post because i don’t have anything to add, they said it pretty well. its not the bike or the leather thats the ‘root’ issue its just the fact, its not creative at all, like ? Ok a bike? A leather suite? A flaming hair? You put these three together they don’t automatically become something unique and fun they just be three things that are together, snd thats what i feel with Mavuika, she feel like scraps of design concepts that don’t exactly do much.

my original thought was she would be like the Shiva sisters from FFXIII who are two mechanical sisters that combo attract with you/ heal/ buff then as a final shot they combine to make a bike (vid here) so i thought her bike would be some what sentient but ig not?? Kaveh have a talking flying bag, we had a full adventure with a boat, we fought an evil sword AND give it therapy but a sentient bike is too much ig, the modern motorcycle isn’t a deal breaker it’s giving it history and personality i suppose

and thats just one idea, im not saying they should have made the bike sentient im just saying be a little creative here, a bike AND?? What about the bike??

like why can’t her bike be her off field damage dealer lmaooo imagine she just leave her bike next to us and it just hit enemies in circles come on i want archon combo let Furina’s homies get full gangsters with the Mavuika’s bike lmaoo

[muffindaddystyles]

prompt 1 with older brothers best friends!harry 👀

1. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

8. “I said stop staring at me.”

23. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart.”

Third wheeling could never be fun. Not when you’re basically not even a wheel but an invisible person on a vacation watching couples kiss and yada yada.

“For fuck's sake.” Y/N grumbles changing a side snatching the blanket that got stuck under her and sandwiches her face into a pillow when she hears the steel roof atop her creak furiously accompanied by high pitched obnoxious moans.

Y/N's brother brought her along to their Italy trip, his wife’s bestfriend and his own bestfriend tagged along too leaving only Y/N to grump about their wild sex rendezvous.

She’s sleepless, homesick and probably about to get a stomach bug for living in yacht for four days atleast!

What’s so fun about jiggling in your sleep? None perhaps and the waves crashing at night that threatens you to swallow you down to the pit of ocean --- my pal, nothing is entertaining about it. Atleast for Y/N. She’s more of a hill station going person with her pup Frankenstein that oogles out from his small globe like window, comfy in his lil bag that Y/N moves around on her shoulders everywhere.

When the fracas of whatever’s taking place up doesn’t comes to halt, Y/N had enough, she isn’t very versed in coping with such situations since her dorm-mate is very nice.

So, she’s throwing the lid away to pop her head through the square like space and spreads her elbows up the roof, “Aish.” She immediately covers her eyes upon the sight of his brother and his wife doing it.

Their expressions comically panicked as they embarrassingly scrambles to clutch the flimsy sheets over them.

“Who does it all naked under an open sky?” She squeaks out, feeling her pulse tick and she peeks out towards the darkness from the slight gap of her fingers which are barely helping her avoid the scene that’d haunt her for life.

“Them bunnies and monkeys, ‘n many of our kind, Sweetheart.” She rolls her eyes at the familiarity of deep slow rumble that’s a bit slurred, probably from the Tequila they took with them. The voice never fails to froth bubbles in Y/N's tummy and it always involuntarily makes her nails dig into her palms.

Harry and Tina’s bestfriend went out to roam around Italy, or they told so and Albeit Y/N very well knows their intentions were more to exploring the city she didn’t butt in.

“I’ve a name and it’s not, Sweetheart.” She dismisses him with a grumble and his smirk shines through the shadow aggravating Y/N to an extreme she slips down shutting the door (like lid) at the them.

Harry Styles. Y/N's brother’s bestfriend. He’s everything Y/N loathes about. Bright green eyes, silken features and that dopey pearlish smile that makes everyone fall in love with him in nano-seconds.

To Y/N. He is an incubus. A witch that allures people without even knowing.

He’s a narcissistic asshole and Y/N's bad boy dream, unfortunately.

She hates herself for having a puppy crush on him for years now.

That friggin, Asshole.

He’s with everyone but her. It seems as if he’s getting stung by bees upon the mere closeness between them. A lamb ready to bite her down his stomach if she steps a foot near him.

At the moment when she’s sitting with her knees pressed to her chest, swollen eyes and puffy lips from not getting sleep last night.

She’s really hating that Harry looks so hot from the swim he just took as he dries himself sitting opposite to her. The droplets twinkling on his tanned thick body, his trunks wrinkled and bunched up into his thighs baring the tiger tattoo on front, his hair wet and oh so fucking tug-able – Y/N feels like Rachel from friends thinking all of that.

“Stop staring,” She mutters out loud when he wouldn’t stop licking the saltiness from his pink bottom lip keeping his intense gaze on her.

“What did y'say?” He pretends that we too engulfed in something else.

“I said stop staring at me.” Y/N grits. It’s annoying because it’s making her belly feel funny and loopy.

“The hills behind y'are just s'admirable.” He elevates his shoulders a bit panicked from inside and Y/N forced herself to not to twitch her eye when his chest muscles flexes due to his action.

Bamboozled she takes a glance from her shoulder to where he diverted his sight once she caught him. Her nose scrunched up and chin butted in disgust at the scenery, “That’s literally a heap of dead fishes!”

“Better than starin’ into a dead soul.” His lips down turned into a careless grimace and Y/N gasps out loud pushing the strands of her hair sticking to all of her face because of the breeze gush, “Why would you say that!?”

“’Cos you’re so mauve, that’s why?” He just wants to take a piss out of her. Nobody’s around and he’s finally getting time to talk to her even if it just to sit cross legged on her nerves and sip tea.

He’s actually lying. He thinks she’s more than mauve. She’s all those colours that usually macarons have, all those hues that butterflies wings have and all those tinctures that one find in gems then keep them safe.

She’s the colour he misses in his life.

“And you’re so fucking blue!” She grumbles and that slithered a deep wicked smile on Harry’s lips, “Like this deep ocean yer afraid of?” Her eyes widens at that and she almost lunges on her knees.

How did he know? Ofcourse, he'd. He’s everywhere. In every damn picture of wherever they went for recreation.

“I’m not.” She scoffs, her tone inconvenient and hazy as she shrinks into herself.

“Then take a dip,” She wishes that she could wipe that beautiful stupid smirk off his gorgeous stupidly lame face.

“Kiss my ass.” She spat out throwing a cushion towards him that lands on his lap, “I’d love to.” He barks out a laugh that rings through the waves.

“You’re such a stinky asshole.” She hits him with another that dumps against his chest, “Ow!” He feigns hurt with ridiculous comical expressions and throws the cushion back towards her which she successfully dodges, but, it falls behind her into the water.

“Shit.” She complains ducking around the edge of the yacht and stretches her arm to the plausible extent to grab the floating cushion.

Though when the tips of her toes leaves the seat she was on and she’s bending too much for her own sake Harry’s standing upright, “Hey stop —-" But. It’s too late as with a high pitched squeaky shriek Y/N's rolling first and falling into the water leaving Harry frozen for a second.

Panic chokes her throat and she moves her limbs around everywhere splashing water vigorously. Mouth gasping for oxygen but all that comes is salty water filling her mouth and lungs too, maybe as she sinks deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, Y/N!!” He shouts out jumping to save her immediately knowing she doesn’t know how to swim and he’s wrapping his palm around her neck and pulling her from her waist to himself under the water as she watches him with frightened fading eyes.

He comes back to surface quickly and presses her to his chest. She too clings to him for dear life feeling herself drift into a state of unconsciousness and hard to breath while he grabs the deck and lifts her with himself to it.

He doesn’t risk a chance and lays her limp body down and clasps his hands together pushing them against where her heat beats feebly, winces when she spurts out water painfully.

“Baby...fuck.” He pats her soaked pale cheek anxiously when she still remains unresponsive to him, breathing wearily so he does what has to be done.

He grabbed her chin, squished her cheeks making her lips pucker out and wrapped his mouth around hers sucking the water out and spat it out once his mouth was full.

His eyes slip shuts and he slumps with relief when Y/N coughs out loudly into his chest and he brings her into him murmuring assurance into her wet hair.

“You’re okay darling,” His whisper wavers from the trembling of his lips and his fingers divots into her softest of skin when he hugs her tightly, “’M sorry ‘s me fault, Sweets.” He rubs the bridge of his nose to take the sniff of her scent to calm him down and she shakes her head unable to talk, hands bunched up against his tummy.

“You should rest, yeah?” His gaze soft with care and it’s baffling for Y/N that he ever had this side too. Before, she could be on her feet he slipped his strong arms under her and hoists her up and into him without any trouble.

If Y/N wouldn’t be feeling very droopy and breathless she sure would have fought with him, maybe blushed and hid her face into his neck but she’s already knocking out in his arms from the stingy feeling in her eyes that made her super duper sleepy.

..

Clouds. Y/N's merged into them and they cover every inch of Y/N, wait where am I? She feels real nice comforted around with such warm bedding and she sure knows it’s not hers. The blurry sight infront of her is enough to aware her and a perfectly calloused hand comes rubbing her shoulder when she tries to sit up.

“Not heaven, o'summat.” He chuckles airily. His smile small and a tad awkward, he’s changed into another pair of trunks that are yellow and his upper half now sadly is covered from a blue tee.

“How you feelin'?” Y/N let his question fly over her head and stutters out loudly, “Why you being s'nice to me now?” It etches a frown on his face but soon it vanishes into an expression that Y/N couldn’t pick point.

“You’ve always been such a meanie...” She murmurs glumly. White sheets tangling around her torso as she moves infront of him – their knees touching.

“I umm –-...like you, I guess?” He has never been this nervous and jumblish with words.

“You guess?” She asks and scared that he missed up he rushes out to hold her and to make her believe that his feelings are true.

“No, no! I’m sure. I like you very much.” That puts Y/N into silence where she stares the gleaming jewels onto his fingers and ponders over what he said.

Harry Styles. Her first kiss. Her very first candy love crush and her dream of bad boy actually likes her back.

She tries to ignore the party poppers going inside her body and the drums of happiness rolling around her heart.

“But ... Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” She doesn’t meet his eyes smoothing out the crinkles of sheets and her palm halts immediately when Harry hooks his thumb under her chin and raises it gaze lovingly into her eyes with sincerity, “Just ‘cos I stole yer first kiss?”

He laughs out sweetly when she bobs her head vigorously, “C’mon we were just sixteen! I’d have made sure to tell y'to keep it safe fo’ your precious person if I knew back then.” His pupils gleaming with hope and a tinge of eagerness.

The next thing she said with a slight bubbly pout caught Harry off-guard and in awe that how to process what she said with so much liability and vulnerability.

“But you’re my precious person!!”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins with a dimple tutting in and grabs her small cold hands to pull her closer to him.

The sweet name shies Y/N away and Harry thinks she couldn’t be more endearing as he takes her soft looking puffy face in the warm embrace of his hands and bops their noses together.

“Then g’na make sure ‘m your last.” He murmurs feathering his lips to the corner of her mouth that flutters her eyelids like butterflies and she pants out for more with a sweet whine, “Shit. You’re still very candy like since I last kissed ye'.” He giggles stroking his thumb up her cheek and takes a lick of her jutted bottom lip.

“Harry....” She complains tugging his weary shirt, “Yes me baby?” He quips out with those fake surprised eyes he makes with raised brows and puppy gaze.

“Kiss me alre –—,” He's swallowing her words down with the tender smush of his lips against hers in a kiss that’s slow and comforting at first, hearing onto the noises that she creates from tasting him and it deepens into something ardent and red when Harry pulls her over his thighs and guides her arms around his neck.

Their foreheads comes touching. Their hearts in sync and beside eachother. Their tongues loving on eachother.

“Dunno if I could ever stop.” He whispers breaking the knot of spit that connects their mouths with the stroke of his thumb against her shinning lip and pecks that spot twice.

“Then don’t.” Y/N looses her brain cells and only butterflies to whoosh into her skull as she grabs his jaw never letting him go and kisses him harder and rougher this time.

She’s gonna be in oh so much love with this bad boy that’s such a softie for her and she knows that there’s no going back.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...? Part 6

Again, this one goes out to you beautiful enablers! You who comment, reblog and are along for this journey through AU land! I see you, I appreciate you and you make my day :D

So, uh, a quick question: Which do you, read readers, prefer; either one giant part 7 or more regular sized part 7 + a part 8... What’s your vote?

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

“I want you to train me. Teach me how to fight.” Dulsissia blurts it out as she settles herself down next to where Davarax is sitting on the floor with his blaster meticulously laid out in pieces on a blanket in front of him to do maintenance on the different parts.

Davarax freezes for several seconds and then he cautiously puts the pieces he was holding down and he looks over at her. “I, uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Dulsissia frowns. He doesn’t think she can handle it?

“I’m sure we can ask Decco to train you.” Davarax offers.

“Bee-cause you don’t want to.” Dulsissia draws out the word, not entirely sure whether to be hurt or offended, but right now she’s leaning towards both.

Davarax lifts a placating hand, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Had it been any other man, Dulsissia would have gone on a rant by now, but she knows Davarax wouldn’t say no if he didn’t have a good reason. “Would you mind telling why not?”

His hand slowly sinks down again and he makes a couple of efforts at starting a sentence, but in the end; Davarax’ shoulders sag slightly with defeat. “It’s just… not.”

“Why not.” She insists. Fine, Dulsissia can ask Decco, but she will at least know why the most skilled fighter in the Covert refuses to train her. He’d even called her Mandokarla once. “You don’t think I’m Mandokarla any more?” 

When had she broken his faith in her? When she’d panicked over that storm trooper? Was that it? Mandalorians aren’t allowed to show fear?

“You are!” Davarax blurts out. “You definitely are. Mandokarla. You are.” He then sighs again and gestures faintly towards himself. “It’s me, okay? I’m the problem.”

“You?” She narrows her eyes suspiciously. How can he be the problem? He’s their best fighter.

“I’m too…” Davarax searches for the right word. “...invested.” He finishes, somewhat lamely, and his hand just drops to his lap.

Dulsissia snorts. “You’re training my son, your own kids, but you can’t train me?”

“You’re different.” Davarax mumbles, sounding awkward.

“Nonsense.” Dulsissia inches closer. “I want to learn and I want to learn from the best. Please? I’ll be a good girl and do everything the teacher says.”

Davarax makes an odd sound deep in his throat.

“I know you are busy and you’ve already helped me so much and it is incredibly selfish of me to put another burden on your shoulders,” Dulsissia confesses, feeling the taste of shame again, “but I trust you. And… I like spending time with you. No offense to Decco, she has been wonderful, but she’s not exactly… cheerful. Or especially fond of conversing. She threatened to glue my mouth shut yesterday and I honestly think she wasn’t joking.”

Davarax chuckles, sounding both resigned and fondly amused. “She wasn’t.” Then he hangs his helmet low for a moment or two before sighing yet again and looking over at Dulsissia. “Okay.”

Letting out a low squeal of delight, Dulsissia bumps her shoulder against his. “Thank you! You won’t regret this.”

Davarax makes a sound as if he’s not entirely convinced about that before he picks up the blaster pieces again and continues his work. “Tomorrow. Thirty minutes before I teach the kids.”

“Thirty minutes?” The man pushes the children far harder than that. “That’s it?”

“One, it’s your first lesson. We’ll be going over basics. Two,” Davarax’ t-visor turns to look at her, “I thought you were going to do what the teacher told you to do?”

Dulsissia puts on her sweetest smile and nods. “Thirty minutes. Before the kids. Yes, sir!”

Davarax sighs, how many times is that now in such a short while, and turns back to his blaster.

-

She meets up a little early, eager and wearing her finest skirt, ready to impress and become the best student Davarax has ever had. Dulsissia straightens her spine and gives him a bright smile when Davarax enters the training room.

He comes to a halt when he sees her, then clears his throat and continues to walk over to her. “You’re early. Good.”

Dulsissia tilts her head, still smiling. “Ready for training. As you can see.”

Davarax makes a non-committing hum.

She can’t keep it up any longer. Dulsissia reaches down, undoes the two buttons and lets her skirt fall to the floor to reveal the far more practical pants she’s wearing underneath. “Ha! Got you!”

He does the Davaraxian huff of a laugh and rewards her with a faint nod. “Funny. Very funny.”

Stepping out of the skirt before picking it up to fold it, Dulsissia rubs her successful prank in with a smug cackle. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to say anything. You’re so sweet.”

“I can’t believe that you don’t think I won’t get back at you for calling me out on it.” Davarax replies, crossing his arms and tilting his helmet in a challenging way.

Dulsissia grins, puts the folded skirt by the wall and trots over to stand in front of him without a hint of fear. “Whatever you got, my good Lord Davarax, I can take it.”

Davarax just looks down at her, breathes, and for some reason; Dulsissia’s heart does a flip.

Then the Mandalorian suddenly unfolds his arms, clears his throat and steps away to take up a position she’s seen the children start the day with.

“We’ll start with the basics. Just the basics. It’s going to be harder for you than the children because you’ve grown accustomed to your body in a way they haven’t had the time to yet, and you’re going to have to unlearn a bit of that plus replace some old reflexes with new ones.” Davarax says.

Dulsissia forces herself to focus and tries to copy the stance. “I’m ready to sweat. Show me.”

Davarax glances over at her, she can feel his gaze slide over her, then he nods.

Yeah, okay, Dulsissia is starting to understand why he’d been hesitant to agree to teach her. He’s an excellent teacher, explains things so well, but she’d failed to take into consideration how every single touch of his hands on her, despite the gloves, despite the layer of clothing, results in flares of heat, moments of complete distraction and a flush to her face that has nothing to do with the strain of the exercises.

She had complained about thirty minutes not being long enough, but after twenty five of them; Dulsissia resolutely sits down and lets out a loud, unladylike groan at the ceiling. Who could have known copying moves that Davarax makes seem easy would be this hard? And while Dulsissia had not considered herself to be out of shape, this has left her completely exhausted.

“Still five minutes left.” Davarax points out, standing next to her, sounding smug.

Dulsissia decides to wipe that smugness off his face. Fast as lightning, she flings herself over and grabs a hold of his lower leg with both of her hands, aiming to bring him down to her level, and she yanks with all of her might.

Nothing. It’s like trying to pull at an AT-AT. And Davarax just looks down at her.

Groaning, Dulsissia lets go and flops over to lie on her back. “It was worth a shot.”

Laughing, a low, warm sound, Davarax eases himself down to sit next to her. “It was cute.”

Cute? Dulsissia glares over at him. And before he realizes his mistake, she launches herself at him, climbs into his lap and shoves at his shoulders. Maybe she couldn’t topple him over on his feet, but surely she can knock him over like this?

No.

She’s not entirely sure how he does it, he moves too fast, he’s too strong, but suddenly she’s on her back on the floor and he’s hovering over her. His hands are pinning her wrists to the floor and a quick tug tells her she has absolutely no chance of getting loose. Dulsissia grins. “Also worth a shot.”

Davarax hums, deliberately not to touching her with anything but his grip on her wrists. “Be careful with your shots, Dulcy. You don’t want to end up like this with the enemy.”

Her face burns. She’s suddenly so very aware of him. “It doesn’t feel all that bad, to be honest.”

It feels like all of the oxygen in the room abruptly disappears, gravity gives up and the temperature sky-rockets. Neither of them move. The tension keeps growing and then…

Davarax looks over at the door and scrambles away from her half a second before the children come stomping into the room, chattering and eagerly anticipating today’s lesson.

Dulsissia closes her eyes and let out a long exhale, just as she hears;

“Mom…?”

-

It’s Din’s birthday. Dulsissia had overheard it by accident when Din had been talking to her son and he’d mentioned how he was counting down the years to when he would finally be allowed to put on the helmet. 

She’d asked when he was having his birthday celebration so she could get a present for her son to give him and felt no small amount of horror when Din said there wasn’t going to be one. His parents had said there was no point so he assumed that meant no celebration.

Well, he was wrong about that.

As Din is more comfortable there, she arranges the birthday celebration in her and Corin’s room and invites the rest of Davarax’ children, plus the man himself. It’s a small thing, compared to the parties she used to throw, but it is a huge deal to Din. He shies a bit away from being the centre of attention, but with Davarax and Corin both encouraging him; Din ends up actually enjoying it a little.

And it is all worth it when a red-faced and awkward Din gives Dulsissia by his own free will a quick hug at the end of the day.

Dulsissia then has to hide a smile when Paz ‘innocently’ mentions how he has his birthday exactly one standard week after Din’s while they are seated at the table and devouring the sweets she’s made. (She’s getting pretty good at this baking thing. The fighting? Less so, but she’s improving.)

Paz’ father has a big celebration for his day, but while Dulsissia mostly observes it from the outside, she can’t help but to notice how, while it is in his name, very little is focused on Paz himself. It’s mostly about his father, adult food and strong spirits. Not much for a twelve year old to enjoy.

So she throws him a party in her quarters with the other children and their teacher like she’d done for Din. And Dulsissia feels her heart break yet again when, at the end of the day, Paz hugs her so tight he almost squeezes the air out of her.

Standing next to her, Davarax sighs as he watches Paz leave with the other kids in tow. “I didn’t really celebrate my own birthday much so I never thought about theirs. I let them down.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Dulsissia replies with a bittersweet feeling, “you are the only person in this place who hasn’t let them down.”

Davarax shakes his head. “Not entirely true, but thank you.”

She turns to face him, places her hand on the breastplate where she’d feel his heart if not for the armor. “You took them under your wings when everyone had given up on them. You didn’t just give them the abilities to survive that they are going to need, but your attention and kindness as well. You are those children’s entire world. And I don’t think they could have chosen a better man.”

Davarax reaches up and covers her hand with his. “Dulcy… Do you know what a kov’nyn is?”

She shakes her head. Her heart is going faster and faster.

“Find out.”

“How?”

Davarax does his trademark huff-laughter. “You’re a clever girl. You can do it.” He then lets go, says his goodbye to Corin, who sits on the bed and watches them with a far-too-knowing grin on his face, and gives a final bow to Dulsissia before leaving as well.

Flustered and a little breathless, Dulsissia walks over to clean up the last traces of the dinner.

“Mom.” Corin says.

“Mmh?” She replies, wondering if she can ask Decco what a kov’nyn is or maybe just try to find some sort of dictionary so she won’t have to trouble her all the time.

“Can we ask Din to stay here with us?”

Dulsissia gathers up the plates. “Baby, I don’t think Din’s parents would like that.” Unfortunately.

“He says they wouldn’t mind.” Corin replies. “Also, when you and Davarax become girlfriend and boyfriend, can I call him ‘dad’?”

Dulsissia straightens with a jolt and her face flares up so badly it hurts. “Go brush your teeth, baby.”

“But-”

“Go brush your teeth!”

-

The Tribe doesn’t have an abundance of datapads or old fashioned books. Most of their teachings are done verbally, but Decco is kind enough to ask around and two days later, a Mandalorian in an orange armor agrees to borrow Dulsissia something similar to a dictionary.

Too curious to wait until she is back in her room where Corin is getting ready for bed while she rushed out to get the book, Dulsissia stops in the middle of a hallway to look up the word. She’s dying to know what Davarax had hinted at, what he was trying to tell her and wanted her to know.

Turning the pages, Dulsissia finally finds the word. ‘Kov’nyn’! There it is!

A headbutt.

Dulsissia blinks. What? Excuse…? She vividly remembers the sight and not to mention the sound of Davarax headbutting that poor Mandalorian during his training and her eyes widen with startled surprise. What?! Was he going to do that to her during their next training? Oh, nonono, no way.

Just as she’s about to slam the book shut and declare that Davarax had been right; Decco might be a better teacher after all, Dulsissia almost accidentally reads more of the text.

Or: A kiss between couples when wearing armor.

Now she does slam the book shut and she’s finding it a bit hard to catch her breath.

Oh.

“I heard you were looking for a book on Mando’a.” A voice says behind her.

Making a startled sound, clutching the book close, Dulsissia spins around and is even more startled when she sees the golden armor and fur cloak.

It’s her. The leader.

“Yes. I, uhm,” Dulsissia awkwardly pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear, “I thought it was about time I learned a little more about… Mando’a. You have all been so kind to me.”

The leader looks at her and her body language is as impossible to read as her facial expression hidden by her helmet.

Dulsissia tries to smile.

“I also hear your son is making good progress in his training.”

Nodding, Dulsissia tries to hide how nervous she’s feeling.

“On his travels, Davarax has brought back many Foundlings. That is his Way and that is The Way.” The leader says. “But he has never brought back an outsider.”

Dulsissia loses the smile and she feels her shoulders sagging a little under the heavy weight of shame. “He… He was kind enough to save me from some horrible men.”

“Mmh.” Is the flat reply. “Are you going to take the Creed?”

Surprised, Dulsissia struggles to find the right answer. She’s been so busy trying to deal with the present that she hasn’t really planned her future. “I… I don’t know.”

That does not seem to impress the leader of the Mandalorians. “Then find your Way. Before you ruin his.”

Watching the Mandalorian walk away, Dulsissia isn’t entirely sure how she feels about this conversation. She’s getting the distinct feeling that this was a message for her to stay away from Davarax, but why? Surely the leader of a warrior tribe does not care about the love life of one of her soldiers? And what gives her the right? Rude.

Frowning, Dulsissia starts walking back to her room while the thoughts keep churning in her brain.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, not even when she walks over to Davarax’ door instead of her own and finds herself knocking on it. Dulsissia waits until he opens the door, says her name in a slightly confused tone, and then… she drops the book, reaches up with both hands to take a hold of the top of his breastplate and promptly pulls him down to thump her forehead to his helmet.

Ow.

Letting go, Dulsissia takes a step back and rubs her forehead. One eye closed, she stares at him in confusion. “I think you people got kissing a bit wrong. It’s not supposed to hurt, you know?”

Stunned, Davarax finally straightens back up and reaches out a hand to take a hold of her upper arm in case she falls over. “I don’t… That’s not how…” The Davaraxian laughter huff appears before he urges her to take the step back to him. “Can I show you?”

Dulsissia moves closer to him willingly enough, but she keeps rubbing her forehead and hesitates. “I’m not sure if I want another concussion.” Maybe she isn’t Mandokarla after all? She prefers softer things than headbutts from her date.

“Trust me?” Davarax asks in a quiet tone.

Sighing, Dulsissia lowers her arm. “Fine. But if I am knocked unconscious, you’re in charge of making breakfast to Corin tomorrow as an apology.”

“Deal.” Davarax murmurs, but in an absent way. His hands are already sliding up to cup her face and she shivers at the memory of them without gloves. “Close your eyes, Dulcy.”

Swallowing hard, she does. Suddenly she doesn’t care if he headbutts her into tomorrow as long as he doesn’t take his hands off her or stop talking.

“It’s mean to be gentle…” Davarax says, so soft and smooth, his hands tilting her head backwards, just a little, but enough so her body automatically arches against his. “It’s meant to be warm…” One hand moves to cup the back of her head, the other slides down to her lower back. “It’s longing…” Smooth beskar gently meets her now very warm skin and he eases her body close, so very close, until she’s firmly up against him with a very strong arm around her waist. “and it’s giving.” He tightens his grip around her.

Reaching up, Dulsissia’s fingers dig into the fabric on his upper arms, desperate to hold on to something so she doesn’t just swoon in his arms like a bad theatre actress.

Davarax lets out a soft exhale, it’s sounds almost like relief, and she can feel the muscles in his arm tightening a little more, his hand cupping her head and holding her there, as if she still isn’t close enough for him.

Time stands still. All she feels is heat, him and her own frantic pulse.

Breathless, far too warm for any decent explanation, Dulsissia reluctantly opens her eyes when he pulls away and shivers with disappointment when he lets go of everything but her hand.

“That’s what it’s meant to be like.” Davarax says.

“Oh.” Dulsissia manages. Okay, maybe everyone else had something to learn from Mandalorians.

It takes a visible effort for Davarax to make himself let go of her hand, for a second she can see the twitch in his shoulders when he stops himself from pulling her close again, but he lets go and now he is the one to take a step away. “Good night, Dulcy.”

“Good night.” She whispers, and it takes a visible effort for her to turn around, pick up the book with numb fingers and go over to her own room.

-

Stupid Mandalorians and their stupid headbutt kissing! Now Dulsissia can’t even look over at Davarax without feeling her face burn or be near him without having her heart to backflips all around her ribcage. This is making her life very frustrating!

And her only comfort is suspecting that Davarax isn’t faring much better either. Judging from how he walked into that table yesterday when she stretched out.

The training? Oh, it’s the sweetest torture ever.

She’s on her way to pick up Corin at Din’s room when a familiar piercing way of screaming catches her attention and Dulsissia doesn’t hesitate to run towards the sound.

Inside what looks to be school room with several pillows on the floor placed around a larger one. A group of scared children are huddled together in one corner while a Mandalorian who looks to be the teacher is restraining a fully feral Raga, with one big hand gripping her arm and the other hand is locked around her neck and preventing her from moving her head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dulsissia shouts, stalking in and shoving the Mandalorian away.

Once again surprise is on her side and the Mandalorian stumbles away, releasing the little girl and Dulsissia does not hesitate to crouch down and wrap her arms protectively around the flailing child. Pain flares when sharp teeth dig into Dulsissia’s arm and latch on.

“She’s completely feral!” The teacher shouts, pointing at Raga. “I’ve taught children, youngsters and foundlings alike, for decades and I’ve never met a child that feral! She’s hopeless!”

“What do you expect when you restrain her like a rancor? I’d bite you too!” Dulsissia shouts back at him. She gets up, hoists Raga in her arms, ignores the pain of the teeth still digging into her and marches out of the room with her.

She’s halfway to her quarters, Raga still hasn’t let go but at least she has stopped flailing and screaming and is just quietly twitching so that’s something, when a Mandalorian comes trotting with Davarax on his tail. They both come to a halt when they see Dulsissia carrying Raga.

“I was just coming to…” Davarax points helplessly in the direction of the classroom. “They said she…” He sighs at the sight and reaches out towards Dulsissia’s arm. “Here, I’ll try to-”

“No.” Dulsissia snaps, turning away to shield her arm and Raga from him. “I got her. I’m taking her to my room. You go tell Corin, he’s with Din, that I’m going to be late, and then you go get us Paz.”

Davarax seems a little surprised, but eventually he gives a nod and Dulsissia continues her march back to her room, giving a quick couple of pets to Raga’s back as she’s still twitching.

Once they are inside in the safety of her and Corin’s room, Dulsissia walks over to sit down on the bed. Raga is a bit larger than Corin, her thin frame doesn’t make her much heavier, but she’s taller and it takes a little arranging of her skinny legs and arms. Once they are settled, Dulsissia continues to run her hand up and down Raga’s back and just waits.

To her surprise, Raga lets go of her arm. And a few seconds after that, the girl quietly mumbles; “M’ sorry…”

Smiling, Dulsissia continues to stroke her back. “It’s okay, baby. I know you didn’t mean to.”

“He said I had to sit in the corner because I threw some thing at him.” Raga mumbles. “But I didn’t. It wasn’t me!” She starts to get agitated again. “I told him it wasn’t me and he said he was going to tell my parents I was a liar and have them punish me!”

Forcing her own anger away, Dulsissia strokes the girl’s back again. “I’m sorry he did that to you, sweetie. I’m sorry he didn’t believe you. That was wrong of him.”

“It wasn’t me…” Raga whispers.

“I believe you.” Dulsissia reassures her. And for the next ten minutes, she just holds her close, strokes her back and pets her hair. And anger quietly simmers inside.

Finally Davarax arrives and in his footsteps, Paz follows. He instantly darts by his teacher at the sight of Raga and the girl doesn’t hesitate to twist around to reach out to him.

Dulsissia gets up from the bed and watches Paz take her seat, pulling Raga close and lets her curl up on his lap. She almost disappears in his embrace. That boy is going to end up a giant if he doesn’t stop growing soon and yet he treats his friend with such mesmerizing gentleness.

“Your arm…” Davarax asks quietly, looking over.

“It’s fine.” Dulsissia replies. It aches like crazy and there will definitely be bruising, but that is not what is important right now. She looks over at him. “They called her a liar. They were holding her down like a rabid loth-cat. And they are surprised she bites?”

Davarax shakes his head. “I know…” He sounds pained and resigned. “The four of them are marked as troublemakers. If something goes wrong, if something could have gone wrong, they’re always blamed. And I can’t stop it.”

Dulsissia’s eyes narrow. “Stay here with the kids.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to someone.”

-

Dulsissia raps on the door with urgent haste and this time she doesn’t wait for the drowsy Mandalorian to speak before she asks; “Is he in?”

He is.

She knocks and then barges in to the room, startling Barthor into a defensive stance. Dulsissia ignores the tiny fists. “What I’m about to ask you can never be repeated. Do you understand?”

Barthor stares at her, slowly lowering his fists. “What?”

Dulsissia stalks closer and he backs up a step so she crouches down for them to be the same height. “I need you to do something for me and no one can ever find out.”

Barthor’s dark eyes slide from side to side, as if checking for hidden cameras. “Do… what?”

“I want you to make me a stink bomb.”

Snorting a laugh, Barthor shakes his head and walks over to sit on his bed. “I don’t know how to-”

“You know.” Dulsissia interrupts him. “Will you make me one?”

Barthor frowns, now suspicious. “Why? What are you going to do with it?”

Dulsissia raises an eyebrow. “I want to place it in the room belonging to man who teaches Raga’s class.”

That seems to make Barthor even more suspicious. “Why?”

“Because he’s a bully to Raga.”

Something flickers in Barthor’s eyes. “He was mean to Raga again?”

Again. The word hurts Dulsissia’s soul. If that man had been mean to her son, he wouldn’t have had the chance to do it ‘again’. She nods.

Barthor stares down at that floor for a little while, then he jumps to his feet and sighs. “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

It takes him eight to finish it. But he insists on joining her when she goes to plant the contraption.

“You might do it wrong.” Barthor informs her, gingerly easing it into a small bag.

Dulsissia rolls her eyes but follows him when he marches off towards their unsuspecting victim.

Once there, it’s clear it won’t be as easy as they hoped. The man is in his room.

“You distract him, I’ll plant it.” Barthor declares.

Dulsissia nods. “Be careful.”

Barthor smirks. And they go to work.

Knocking on the door, Dulsissia waits for the man to open it and then begins lecturing him on all the wrong ways to handle a sensitive child, not letting the man get a word in, and she barely catches the shadow of little Barthor sneaking by them and into the room.

She keeps her rant going, the man is too surprised and startled to do much than come with feeble objections, and the second Dulsissia sees the shadow sneak out by the man’s legs again, she finishes her speech.

“Good day to you, sir!”

Marching down the hallway, she rounds a corner and finds Barthor there. He looks up at her with a hint of respect.

“Not bad.” He says with grudging respect.

“You too.” Dulsissia replies, reaching out a hand and shakes his when he takes it. “But remember, no one can know.”

Barthor grins. “Don’t worry. No one is going to be able to to prove anything.” “Good.”

When the stink spreads in the man’s room, Dulsissia and Barthor has picked up Corin, and somehow Din ends up tagging along, and they are all safely in Dulsissia and Corin’s room, along with Paz, Raga and Davarax. Eating cookies.

And Barthor was right; nobody is ever able to prove who was behind it.

-

“Mom, are you sure we can’t ask Din to stay here?” Corin asks one morning.

Sighing, Dulsissia looks over at her sweet son. “I told you, baby. I don’t think his parents will like that. Is there something wrong? Is that why you keep asking?”

Corin, sitting on her bed, shrugs and looks down. “He doesn’t like it there.”

Clearly, as the child spends most of his time with them rather than his parents, but Dulsissia isn’t sure how Mandalorian adoption works. She’s fairly certain it would be frowned upon if she just started hoarding children from them. Otherwise, she would probably have had bunk beds and five children in this room. “I’m sorry to hear that, Corin. Has he tried to talk to his parents?”

Corin shakes his head. “He doesn’t like talking to them.”

Dulsissia has a sneaking suspicion that Din doesn’t like much, except Davarax and her son. At least he has excellent taste. “Do you think he’d like me to talk to them?”

Corin shakes his head again. “He won’t like it if he knew I’d told you.”

Figures. Dulsissia sighs. “Then I don’t know what we can do, baby. They are his parents. We are guests here.”

“Well,” Corin looks over at her, “at least he can come and visit as much as he likes?”

“Absolutely.” Dulsissia confirms. “And I’ll ask if he can stay over some time. Would that help?”

Her beautiful boy lights up with delight. “Really? You’re the best, mom!”

“Remember you said that when I tell you to clean up your toys.” Dulsissia declares.

Corin laughs.

It’s such a wonderful sound. He never used to laugh. He’s always been such a silent child, like Din, but the longer they have stayed here at the Covert; the more Corin has come out of his shell.

He no longer cowers behind her leg when they are in the common room with the other Mandalorians. He still flinches when someone raises their voice, but at least he doesn’t go pale and look like he’s about to pass out. He has friends. And there is a father figure whom Corin greets with joy and looks forward to spending time with, unlike his biological father.

Losing her dresses and servants is a price she’s more than willing to pay to see her son this happy.

There is just thing that could ruin everything. And considering it’s not just harmless flirting any more, Dulsissia decides it is time to tell Davarax.

She asks Decco to look after her son, which she grudgingly agrees to despite meaning the boy is old enough to look after himself, and then Dulsissia asks Davarax to meet her in Din’s hiding space.

“Well,” Davarax say as he steps over a piece of engine and barely manages to make his way over to where she��s sitting on a sofa pillow without falling or knocking himself unconscious against some metal part sticking out amidst the debris they are surrounded by, “this is romantic.”

“Sorry.” Dulsissia says, too nervous to be amused by the graceless way he tumbles down on the pillow next to hers. “I just wanted us to be able to talk in private.”

The tone of her voice makes him sit up and pay attention. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to tell you something.” Dulsissia says, sighing. “And I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”

“You can tell me anything.”

Oh, how she hopes that is true. Dulsissia takes a deep breath, looks down at her own hands as she wrings them nervously in her lap. She smiles a little when his hand moves over to cover them and stops her from hurting herself. Okay. Here goes. “I told you my name is Dulcy.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not.” She glances over at him. “Well, it kind of is. It used to be my nickname. My name is Dulsissia.”

Davarax gives a faint shrug. “Okay?”

“Dulsissia Motti. The man looking for me, his name is Macero Valentis. He is Corin’s father.” Dulsissia braces herself, turns her gaze down to his gloved hand over both of hers and dreads the moment it will withdraw.

Davarax’ voice is carefully neutral. “If you’re a Motti, surely your family will help you get rid of Valentis?”

Dulsissia’s smile is bitter and it hurts. “No. I stupidly defied them to marry him and I’ve been told that I have to lie in the bed I made.”

Davarax hesitates. “Would you like to go back your family?”

Looking over at the man by her side, unable to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, Dulsissia shakes her head. “No. And they’re not my family. They don’t know what the words means.”

Davarax’ hand withdraws from hers, but only so he can gently cup the side of her face. “Mottis and Valentis, they don’t scare me if that’s what you were worried about.”

“Kind of.” Dulsissia admits, a tear slipping from her eye. “I have seen the destruction they can cause. I don’t want to bring it here.”

“We’re Mandalorians.” Davarax says, a slight grin in his voice. “We thrive on battle. It’s in our blood. And they would find us a lot more dangerous than any other opponent they’ve been up against in the past.” His thumb caresses her skin, wiping away her tear, and his voice softens. “They don’t matter. They’re in the past. You are here now. You’re Dulcy. And Corin is safe. You both are.”

It might not be Mandokarla, but Dulsissia doesn’t care; she leans over and he wraps his arms around her.

“As long as I breathe,” Davarax mumbles, holding her close, “you and Corin will always be safe.”

[mae-gi-writes]

Feux De Joies | Kevin (The Boyz Christmas Series)

La Joie de Noël Series : Feux De Joies [Kevin]

[ Feux De Joies: Bonfire. ]

Stories revolving around the small miracles of Christmas.

-----

Read more of La Joie De Noël Series here:

Sangyeon | Jacob | Younghoon | Hyunjae | Juyeon | Kevin | Changmin (Q) | Chanhee (New) | Ju Haknyeon | Sunwoo | Eric 

-❤-

Y/N and Kevin's relationship had never really been all love and warmth after he'd played a prank on her heart. Losing a bet required him to fake a confession of his love to her and while Y/N's heart had skipped a beat, the said young man had proceeded to giggle in her face before telling her that it was just a prank and, how could he even see her that way anyway? He was totally smitten with another classmate of theirs.

The mixture of embarrassment and shame and taken over Y/N's countenance and since that day, she had regarded Kevin as no more than an insect she wished to squish with her toe. Much to his displeasure, the pair had drifted apart mainly due to the girl pushing him away. Numerous times, he'd wished to ask her what was wrong, why she seemed so cold and distant but he'd never really had the chance.

The irony of the pair being invited to the same end-of-year Christmas bonfire made Y/N want to drop out at the very last minute. But her friends' incessant whining couldn't go unnoticed and she had finally relented with the condition that she wasn't to be left alone that night.

"I promise," her friend had pinky-sworn at Y/N's glare.

"You better mean that."

Despite Y/N's protests, the pair ended up getting a lift from Jacob and much to her surprise, she found the latter much easier to talk to. Maybe it was the lack of school setting that made it easier to detach stereotypes or maybe she was just in a great mood. In any case, by the time they had reached the beach and spotted the group of people crowded around what seemed to be a pile of branches, Y/N's mood had lifted considerably.

They had hung up a string of Christmas lights in the trees that circled the fire, giving the small area an ethereal, magical glow that made it seem like she had just stepped into a Christmas movie. It was just so beautiful, too beautiful to even keep being mad at someone. Plus, everyone was decked in their ugly Christmas sweaters and that alone was enough to turn this into a comedy. 

"Hot choco?" One of their classmates held up two paper cups which they all accepted graciously. Y/N felt warmth spread through her palms and an unintentional smile lifted the corners of her lips.

After all, it couldn't be that bad. Right?

Wrong. A scowl dropped over her features the moment she laid eyes on a familiar face sitting across the bonfire. She looked away.

No, she told herself off adamantly. She was not going to let Kevin, of all people , ruin her mood.

That was what she kept at the back of her mind in a continuous wave of reminders as the sun set over the horizon and bathed the entire scenery in glimmering gold despite the cold spreading through their limbs. The group huddled in as the bonfire was lit, flaring orange and casting a warm glow over their bodies as marshmallows were passed around on sticks.

Y/N wasn't really sure, throughout the countless conversations and the lighthearted socializing, how she still ended up with Kevin sitting at her side. He was chatting idly with Jacob and when the latter spotted her face, sent her a casual wave.

Y/N waved back quite unsurely, hating how her stomach squirmed uncomfortably when Kevin's almond orbs flitted over her face.

"Hey," Kevin said as he plopped a marshmallow onto his stick and passed her the bag. Y/N had no choice but to take it almost reluctantly, "the bonfire's quite something huh?"

"If you say so," she mumbled and focused her attention on fiddling with her marshmallow stick.

"Y/N, I thought you hated sweet things," Jacob's voice chimed in.

"Today's an exception," the said girl stuck her tongue out at him, causing Jacob to chuckle.

Kevin's eyes swept back and forth between the two, "since when do you two know each other?"

"Oh just now. We spoke on the way here," Jacob then nudged the skinny raven-haired man, "why? Jealous?"

"Me?" Kevin spluttered and if Y/N had looked away a second too early, she wouldn't have gotten the satisfaction of noticing the heat lighting up his entire face. And she was pretty certain that was not a result of the bonfire heat.

A nudge on her shoulder brought her attention back to her friend who asked "do you know where the toilets are?"

"Uhm, I don't think there are any toilets...You'll have to go pee in nature or something."

Her friend's horror was written all over her face and though Y/N had insisted on accompanying her, Jacob jumped up at the chance, sending Y/N a wink which suggested that there was much more to friendship in his gentlemanly intentions.

She watched the pair go, a frown shadowing her face as she questioned whether that was a good idea.

Kevin seemed to read her mind, "don't worry. Jacob's a good guy. He won't do anything."

"Makes me wonder why he's friends with you," she shot back without missing a beat. Her eyes quickly flitted to his own Christmas sweater -- a vivid white that had olaf’s face printed on the front, his orange nose jolting out and dangling. 

Why the fuck did he still look that good?

Kevin wasn't hurt though, throwing her a grin instead, "always the charmer, aren't you? It's been a while since we spoke. Why's that?"

"I wasn’t the one busy trying to woo the pants off Seulgi."

"Woah there tiger," he blinked, "where did that come from?"

She twirled her stick through the flames, now glad that the darkness enveloped most of her features, "I thought you liked her. That's the only thing I remember from our past conversations."

"Oh gosh," He chuckled softly while taking a bite of his marshmallow, "well, there's a lot of catching up to do."

Despite her initial desire to stay away from the said young man with the piercing almond eyes and the beautiful raven-coloured hair that made her fingers itch with the desire of running them through his locks, conversation flowed as easily as water and as the night gave way to the moon and stars glittering across the night sky, she found herself falling into that familiar memory of sharing secrets and stories with Kevin, remembered how it felt to have him make her giggle with his lame jokes and with his never ending list of puns. It was as if nothing had changed and she hadn't realized the way her heart summersaulted in her chest with every smile, every chance his eyes met hers, until a hand landed atop her shoulder.

She jolted, gaze fluttering up at her friend who had a knowing look in her eyes, with Jacob was close behind.

"I thought we were supposed to stay together," her friend chided, though there was a mischievous smile on her face.

"I--I was waiting for you!" Y/N stuttered out, "where did you go anyway?"

And that was when she noticed their entwined hands. Everything clicked, fell into place. The girls' eyes met with silent understanding before Kevin cleared his throat.

"Well, I guess we'll leave you two to it," he grinned and before Y/N knew it, his arm was had shot out and was dragging her away from the pair, away from the bonfire into the darkness.

The cold was instantaneous, taking hold of her limbs and freezing them over as soon as it engulfed her figure in its icy grip. She shivered and pulled her jacket close, trying to gather as much heat by tucking her hands into her armpits.

Kevin probably noticed, for his arm gingerly went around her shoulder to pull her close.

She swallowed thickly upon feeling his warmth envelope her side. This was not in the plan! Her subconscious mind screamed, you were supposed to stay away from him because he played your heart like an old guitar that he then tossed away!

It wasn't his fault per se. Y/N knew that much. In fact, she blamed herself the most. For she wouldn't have been so hurt, so offended, if she hadn't had any inkling of romantic feeling towards the said man.

But here she was, falling over for him once again.

That was the thing with Kevin. One could fall for him as easily as breathing.

"Kev? Where are we going?" Y/N blurted out in attempt to hide how uncomfortable she felt. Her hands fisted into her ugly sweater sleeves, hiding her sweat-coated palms.

"Uh, I don't know actually. My only intention was to get away from them," he chuckled, which reverberated through her own body, "seems like Jacob got what he wanted."

"I knew he was after her. It was so obvious," As the pair kept on walking through the dark, Y/N's head lifted to gaze up at the night sky glittering with stars.

Kevin's soon followed, "I remember him telling me to specifically back off when the deed was done."

"Asking a girl out right after she peed in the words doesn't seem that romantic to me though."

"Oh," his nose crinkled, "you're right. It's not. Oh my god, they held hands right after--"

"She didn't even wash her hands."

They looked at each other for a few beats of silence before bursting out laughing, the sound rippling through the dark depths of night as they tried not to topple over each other as they bent to hold their stomachs.

"That--" Kevin heaved to catch his breath, "that is gross."

"Hope Jacob's not germophobic."

They proceeded to grin at each other like naughty schoolchildren sharing sneaky secrets and Y/N swore her heart skipped a beat whenever her dark brown met his obsidian depths. She'd be lying to say that there wasn't the faintest lingering affection in her heart for the said young man, especially when her entire body seemed to follow along to his every move as though he had her trapped in a trance.

It was only when Kevin's grin faltered into an unsure smile as they gazed at each other for a little too long, that Y/N quickly turned her head away, clearing her throat.

"Wanna hear a scary story?” Kevin piped up as they kept on walking, not realizing that they were drifting further and further away from the glowing Christmas lights. 

Y/N looked up at him from her small nestled space he’d created with his shoulder, “we’re celebrating Christmas. Not Halloween.” 

“I promise you that has nothing to do with either of them.” 

“Alright then,” she paused, “shoot.” 

“Well,” his voice dropped to a murmur, which caused a shiver to tingle up her spine, “apparently there was a pregnant woman who was running away from her husband. She came into these woods and gave birth to her baby. But then, something weird happened during the night. Nobody knows what happened to her. But the baby was found a few days later,” he paused for dramatic effect, “weird you know? Considering that it’s a newborn baby that wouldn’t have lived in such circumstances. So he --it was a boy -- he got adopted, grew up to be a fine young man. But that’s not the point.” 

She knew, deep down, that this was only a story to scare her off. But she couldn’t help but ask what happened to the mother.

“Nobody knows where the mother went. But then one night, on that same night she apparently disappeared, a group of friends came camping. Just to have fun. One of them had to go pee at night,” his voice lowered dangerously, captivating Y/N’s ultimate attention, “when she went in the bushes, she felt someone standing behind her. So...she turned, and then--”

Crack!

“Holy shit!” 

That was Kevin, who had literally jumped into her arms without thinking at the weird noise that bustled behind them.

“Kevin!” Y/N cried, before bursting out laughing at how he’d scared himself, “oh my god, you’re such a coward!”

“Wha--That was not in the plan!” He whined, voice muffled against her shoulder. He pulled back with an annoyed face when noticing that there was barely any hint of fear on hers, “why aren’t you scared?” he pokes your sides.

“Because I have more sense than that.”

“You’re so annoying.” 

“At least I’m not a coward.”

He leaned closer, “I’m not a coward.” 

“You’re the one who got scared,” her chin tilted up adamantly. 

“That’s not the point.”

"Then what is?"

"This."

And in a split second, his mouth was on hers.

Hands clasped her jaw as Kevin moved in closer, lips moving softly against hers as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Surprised, Y/N's own lips parted and he took this chance to kiss her a little deeper, teeth sinking down onto her lower lip and making a small gasp fall from her voicebox. Her shaky hands clasped onto his shirt while his twined around her waist, tugging her close so that his warmth enveloped her completely like a wave of dizzy euphoria, sensual waters that Y/N didn't mind getting drowned in.

She had no idea what she was doing, no idea why the heck she wasn't pushing him away like she was supposed to.

It was almost on instinct that her body pressed even closer if that was possible, causing a soft grunt to echo out of Kevin's chest. His hands skimmed over her backside, left a series of sensual heat that left her dizzy with want. And just when Y/N thought she couldn't take anymore, his tongue joined in, turning her into a gasping mess.

She whimpered, that mere sound enough to prompt Kevin's hands to tangle through her hair and tilt her hwad back, lips locking with better access and her legs turning to jelly with each searing touch he imrpinted on her, with each caress of his tongue that rendered her mad with temptation.

Lights suddenly blared through the dark.

The two jumped apart, chests heaving, as they looked up at the christmas lights dangling from the row of trees surrounding them.

"Eric!" Kevin yelled with slight exasperation as a head popped out from behind a tree.

The said young man named Eric smiled at them sheepishly, "sorry, why are you even here?"

"I was trying to confess!" The heat of Kevin's cheeks seemed even brighter red in the glow of the christmas lights and Y/N couldn't help but laugh at how embarrassed he looked. Without a second to waste, Kevin's fingers laced with her own before he tugged her away from the now illuminated tier of blinding lights, ensuring that they were well away from prying eyes before he swivelled around so abruptly she almost bumped into his chest.

"Okay so, that-- that clearly did not go as expected," he started pacing around like an unappeased tiger while his hands fisted through his locks, and if Y/N's own mind wasn't as scrambled with the memory of Kevin's lips tingling across her own, she would've laughed at how comical he looked.

"Look, Y/N," he halted, facing her and grabbing on to her shoulders as his words spilled in a rush, "If you don't like me, just tell me because otherwise I'm gonna kiss you."

He was so close, only holding on to her shoulders and yet her body yearned to melt into him as though his mere existence was made out of desire. When his dark orbs found hers, glimmering with a tenderness, with a genuine warmth that caused air to constrict through her throat, she did nothing but swallow as she decided to play out her fate.

He searched her face for any clues, with an intensity that made her heart practically jump out of her chest. But still, she stayed quiet as she held his gaze with a burst of naked courage.

Then, gentle warm hands came up to cup her face, and just as his mouth brushed hers, he breathed, "I guess you do."

And he kissed her once more, fully claiming her lips as his own just like he claimed her heart. A kiss that the girl gave into as though she had never planned to fight, arms circling his neck to pull him down, closer, chest to chest, mouth parting with a small gasp that he stole just like he did with her heart. 

The moon glimmered, bathing their figures in a silvery light as they slowly lost themselves into each other, leaving the bonfires and the Christmas lights behind. 

-❤- 

Mae’s note: SURPRISE SURPRISE! 

For this Christmas, I’ve decided to write small drabbles involving TBZ because this year has been their year really (Kevin moon stole my heart). I hope you like it! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist xxx 

More coming soon! Hope you enjoyed this one! 

As usual I just go all out when it comes to Kebin i mean HOW CAN I NOT AFTER THEIR MAMA STAGE RIGHT????? 

Anyway, stay safe and stay healthy everyone ❤

[mimosaeyes]

Post-176. Jon, Martin, and Basira regroup before continuing the search for Daisy. (Or: everyone is allowed to feel their feelings.) 2.1k, hurt/comfort.

I wrote a few lines of this fic after listening to the episode, but I wasn't going to finish it until I read @dathen's post about how 176 is basically "emotionally repress or die". Then I thought, oh wait, do people actually want the self-indulgent emotional catharsis? So, with @emberidzae's enabling and beta-ing, here we are.

It takes Martin longer than it should to realise that Basira is leading them out of the domain, not farther into it. Because of the way she’d begun hurrying them along, he assumed they were only a few steps behind Daisy, about to catch up with her at any moment.

Instead, the trees begin to thin out around them. Soon there’s enough space between the trunks to render them ineffective camouflage, and Martin stops feeling the urge to check his surroundings for the silhouettes of wolves waiting in ambush. There’s still a tight feeling in his throat, but at least the prickle on the back of his neck has disappeared.

He can still feel where Trevor had pressed the knife, the sharp edge of it right up against his jugular. The man’s voice had been shaking, but never his hand. No, that had been Martin’s own pulse, throbbing sickeningly beneath the blade and rushing loud in his ears.

Lost in the memory, Martin doesn’t notice the root sticking out of the ground until he’s already tripping over it. He has a split-second to think how stupid that is, how this has probably been the downfall of many people being chased by the Hunt — then his elbow is snagged by a familiar, scarred hand.

Jon doesn’t spare him a glance even as he releases his arm to clasp Martin’s hand instead. He just pulls him along, his pace brisk but not overtly hurried by fear or panic. Martin falls into step beside him, gradually regaining his rhythm and composure.

When they finally stumble into open space, Martin senses the difference at once. It’s not that he instantly relaxes; all things considered, he’d managed to remain relatively unfazed. But suddenly it takes much less effort to breathe normally. Suddenly, tension he hadn’t been aware of dissipates from his shoulders and chest.

He looks up to find Basira watching him closely. “Good job,” she says, making no effort to deny her scrutiny. “You’ll need full control over your emotions if you’re planning on following me back in there.”

Ah. There’s the rub. Of course they’re not done with this domain yet; this is only a pit-stop for Basira to make sure she hasn’t taken on liabilities.

“So you’re sure Daisy’s here?” Martin asks, managing to sound far more businesslike than he really feels about the thought of returning to the forest. “You’ve seen her?”

A muscle jumps in Basira’s cheek. Not quite a flinch, but the shadow of one. “I’m sure.”

She turns away from them and starts fiddling with her gun, checking the mechanism even though it had clearly worked fine on Trevor. Perhaps she wants a reason to keep her hands busy. Perhaps she wants to hide her face.

Martin leaves her to it and turns to Jon. He’s about to say something at random, anything to afford Basira the illusion of privacy, but the words die on his lips as Jon lets go of his hand and throws his arms around Martin.

He’s hugging back before he has time to fully register what’s happening. “Jon?” His voice squeaks from how tightly Jon is squeezing. “What’s wrong?”

Jon mumbles something against the crook of his neck. He can’t quite make out what it is. He catches sorry and couldn’t and so scared. Jon is trembling, he realises. It makes his heart lurch. He rubs a hand over his back in what he hopes is a soothing way.

After a long moment, Jon pulls back, gripping his arm with one hand while the other goes to the side of Martin’s face. “Are you alright?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”

Martin shakes his head. “I, I don’t think so.” But Jon checks anyway, running his fingers lightly over his neck to check for the smallest nick. Martin shivers at the gentle touch.

Then Jon tugs his long sleeve down over his knuckles and starts dabbing at Martin’s cheek and chin, which is when it hits Martin that the damp feeling there isn’t nervous sweat, but the spray of Trevor’s blood from the gunshot that had killed him.

He reels away from Jon — or he tries to, but Jon holds him steady. “Don’t look,” he says softly. “It’s okay, just look at me. It’s okay.” There’s something quietly insistent in his tone that makes Martin go still. Let me do this for you, it seems to say. Let me spare you this.

So he does. Instead of thinking about what happened, instead of peering at the red on Jon’s sleeve in his peripheral vision, Martin watches his face. Part of him is braced for the slightest wrinkling of his nose, indicating revulsion at his task. Mostly, he expects to see regret. They’d come to this domain hoping to find their friends and save Daisy, and instead another person has died because of them. It had happened indirectly, in that Basira had been the one to pull the trigger, but Jon had engineered the situation and Martin had participated in it, and... and it feels different, like this. Martin’s been calling it smiting when Jon turns the Ceaseless Watcher on an avatar, vaporising them. But there was nothing righteous about this, nothing neat and sterile. There is only the visceral, ignominious reality of a body left on the ground, and some of the gore still smeared over Martin’s skin.

Yet he looks, and finds only tenderness in Jon’s expression. All throughout the encounter with Trevor, he had kept his face impassive, his voice calm and in control. Only now is Martin seeing the depth of his fear for him.

Jon finishes cleaning off the blood and without further ado, rips the end of his sleeve off entirely, stuffing it in a pocket so it’s out of sight.

Half-jokingly, Martin laments, “Aww. I liked that shirt.” It’s one of his own, hence the excessively long sleeves on Jon. He’d stolen it a few days into their stay in the safehouse. Martin had teased him about it at the time, but never really minded.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says sombrely. Martin’s about to clarify that he was kidding, but then Jon continues, “I thought Trevor would go for me. I was nearly sure of it, else I would’ve told you more. I thought the worst I was asking of you was to stay calm while he threatened me, and you know nothing can really hurt me, so.”

“It’s alright,” Martin tells him. “I mean, it’s not alright, obviously; that was messed up to have to go through, but.” He offers him a slightly lopsided smile. “I trust you.”

Jon doesn’t return the smile, though. He just looks preoccupied; cagey. Like before, like he’s not telling him something. Martin frowns. “Why did you think he’d pick you? You’re not exactly without defences.” He glances pointedly at the eyes staring down at them from the sky.

“Because...” Jon sighs, shrugs, runs one hand roughly through his hair. “Because I’m the one who’d be prey in this domain. Fear of your friends turning on you? After Jane Prentiss, I staked out Tim’s house, I went through the belongings you’d left at the Institute. I was so easily made to feel paranoid, to dread betrayal. Besides—” He cuts himself off abruptly.

Martin narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What?”

Jon hesitates, reluctant. “And, well. Trevor’s a monster hunter.” 

He seems about to elaborate, but then just makes a vague gesture, encompassing all of himself.

“Oh, Jon...” 

But before Martin can tell him he’s not a monster, smack him, or possibly pull him in for another hug, Basira interjects. “You two do know I can still hear you, right? Honestly, you have definitely been wandering around with no other company for too long.”

Startled and sheepish, they both turn to her. She’s re-holstered her gun and is smirking at them with one hand on her hip. Martin sees the moment when her mirth reverts to steely resolve. “Enough blubbering. Daisy’s after Trevor. If we want to catch her here, we’ll have to move fast. Are you coming with, and can you handle yourselves?”

“Of course,” Jon replies, nodding and stepping out of Martin’s embrace. “Let’s go.”

Even though Martin hadn’t been around at the time, he imagines this is exactly how it went before these two ran off to Ny-Ålesund together. “Wait! Do you even have a plan?”

“Find Daisy,” Jon and Basira say in unison.

Martin resists the urge to slap his forehead. “And then what?” he asks, softening his tone from exasperated to reasonable. He addresses Basira specifically: “You promised to kill Daisy. Is that your first option, or do you have another plan?”

Judging from the way she stiffens ever so slightly at the word kill, there’s at least some doubt in her mind. Basira glances at Jon. “You wouldn’t happen to have any convenient Beholding powers to get through to her, would you?”

Jon winces. “We need a key to a lock in this situation, and I have... the equivalent of a nuclear warhead.”

Basira stares. “I don’t even want to know.”

“What about how we’re finding her, then?” Martin wonders aloud, hastily changing the topic. “If Trevor’s, uh, no longer with us, then we don’t have anyone to follow. Unless we can find Daisy’s tracks.”

“Unlikely,” Basira says. “She’s too good a Hunter to be hunted herself. I’ve been relying on Trevor, mostly.”

“So why’d you kill him?” Martin asks thoughtlessly.

Almost before he’s finished the sentence, he anticipates Basira’s raised eyebrow and sarcastic, “He had you at knifepoint. You’re welcome.”

“And the other reason?” Jon asks quietly.

Immediately, Basira snaps, “Don’t compel me. Do not look in my head.”

“I didn’t, and I won’t,” Jon says, holding up both hands placatingly. He’s telling the truth; there had been no telltale buzz of static. “But you could have shot him without killing him. You could have lamed him and waited for Daisy to come end it. So I know there’s another reason.”

Basira is glaring askance, but Martin can still feel the ferocity of that look. Then, haltingly but with more sincerity than he would have expected, she actually answers. “I found Julia’s body. Trevor is older than her, slower. Which means Daisy let him go on purpose. She — she’s relishing this too much. Trying to prolong the chase. I could’ve kept it going. Could’ve followed him for days, or what used to be days. But the longer that goes on, the longer she gets to toy with him... the less likely she comes back to me as Daisy. So. It’s better this way, with his blood on my hands.”

She takes a deep breath. Then she punches Jon in the arm — not hard, but not very lightly either. “I blame you for all this touchy-feely stuff. It must be contagious.”

Jon has the cheek to smugly say, “You’re welcome.”

Martin barely hears it, though. Basira’s words are echoing through his mind: his blood on my hands, his blood on my hands.

“I know how we can find Daisy,” he says. “Jon. That strip of sleeve? Give it to Basira.”

To Basira’s credit, she barely reacts as Jon uneasily extracts the bloodied cloth from his pocket and helps her tie it around one wrist. “This is Trevor’s blood?” is all she says.

“And now it also smells like me, Jon, and you.” Martin’s eyes flick briefly to the forest. “Daisy might’ve already found Trevor’s body. She’ll be looking for something else worth hunting.”

“It could work,” Jon says slowly. Martin doesn’t miss the worried look he gives him.

Basira holds her arm aloft on the breeze for a few seconds, letting the wind carry the scent into the trees. “Are you sure about this?” she asks them both. “You do understand that we’re making ourselves bait.”

The forest looms before them. Does it look darker than before? It never gets any later in the apocalypse, so it must be his imagination. Or his mind, already being drawn into the mentality of prey. Martin gulps. He tries to sound confident about his plan as he says, “The best bait is friendship?”

“Now I know why we never hung out,” Basira tells him, but without much heat. 

As they begin walking, Martin reaches for Jon’s hand. “Hey,” he says quietly. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got this.”

There’s a flicker of recognition in Jon’s eyes. “Apparently so,” he murmurs, giving Martin’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

They hold on for a couple more seconds while ignoring Basira’s eye-roll. Then Martin lets go and sets about pulling his emotions into order. They only want one wolf to come after them. 

At the edge of the forest, Basira checks her gun in its holster, glances at Jon and Martin in turn. Then she raises her arm again. “Alright, Daisy,” she murmurs, more to herself than to them. “Hunt this. Hunt me.”

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

[dreaming-of-assclass]

AssClass Christmas Fics: Part 2

Group 2 + Snowball Fight ☃️

This is so long overdue... *sobs*

So my original plan was to do all 5 fics during Christmas...and that failed lmao. This will be the last one since I had already started it and might as well post. It’s way too late to finish three other Christmas fics now haha. Don’t worry, the other groups will get time to shine in other fics I’m already planning UwU

_____

“Avengers, assemble!” Okajima shouted, before getting pelted in the mouth by a flimsy snowball. “Ow!”

“I already said, three times, that’s not our team name!” Nakamura yelled back, adjusting the baby blue beanie that sat atop her head. 

“Then what do you propose instead?” He challenged, wiping off the remaining bits of ice off his face. 

���I wanted to be the Heathers,” she replied coolly.

Okajima groaned. “No! That sounds lame!” 

“And you’re such a fake theater kid already,” Chiba chimed in with a snicker, easily dodging the snowball she tossed in his direction.

“Oh shut up, punk.” Nakamura stuck her tongue out at him, but her lips were curved up into an amused smirk.

“Can we just start already?” Sugaya sighed, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “My joints are starting to freeze, being out here.”

“Here” was referring to the empty park field that was a block away from Fuwa’s house. Of course, given that it was late December, the field was a wasteland of pure white. Snow rested heavily on the ground, reaching past their ankles as they tried to move around. The forest of barren trees that surrounded them carried the same pearly frost on their branches. 

The snow seemed to sparkle, just simply laying over the ground, or over the bare branches. A sheet of ice fully covered the pond that was across the long white field, closer to the playground. And the sky above them was an eerie yet dazzling shade of blue-ish gray.

Part of Sugaya wanted to grab his sketchbook and paints, and create a portrait of the natural beauty around him, ingrain it in both his mind and across his papers. But a larger part of him was freezing and tired and frankly not in the mood for a snowball fight at 8am. Why did he agree to this again? Whose idea even was this?!

“Aww, Sugaya is cold,” Nakamura mocked playfully. He fought against the urge to roll his eyes.

“Maybe you should’ve worn something other than just that thin jacket,” Hayami pointed out, rubbing her mitten-clad hands together. “No wonder you keep complaining like a little kid.”

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Sugaya mumbled, patting down the front of his jacket defensively. “Why is everyone attacking me?”

“Because you’re immature and unprepared?” Mimura offered with a smile, showing he wasn’t being serious. He laughed at the tired expression Sugaya offered. “Relax, we can get hot chocolate after this at my house.”

The artist relaxed a bit at that. “Sounds great,” he smiled. “Which of us geniuses came up with this, anyhow-?”

“Get into your teams now!” A loud voice entered the fray, and Sugaya glanced up only to smack himself in the forehead. Of course, it would be none other than Fuwa to instigate a war of some kind between her friends. A snow war, sure, but a war nonetheless. 

The violet-haired manga fanatic stood mighty, one foot propped up on a frost-covered large rock by the edge of the field. Her beloved sword was nowhere in sight, but no one would be surprised if she’d just hidden it for the time being.

The teams, chosen by Fuwa herself, were:

1. Nakamura, Okajima, and Fuwa

2. Chiba and Sugaya

3. Mimura and Hayami

She likely intended for there to be a balance, so a team could have one person with awful aim paired up with a Sniper. Or to have the team of 3, where they all had about average throwing skills. 

And then the snowball war was set to begin.

“This is gonna end badly,” Sugaya mumbled to himself five minutes later, as he crouched behind a makeshift snow fort that Chiba easily assembled.

“This is gonna be amazing,” Nakamura whispered in glee as she hid by a tree, a snowball already formed in her hands. 

And then it descended into chaos.

Snowballs flew across the park as the assassins-in-training attacked one another, dashing across the field with howls of laughter. 

Already eight minutes in, they were all covered with broken pieces of snow that had collided with their jackets. 

“Surrender now!” Fuwa shouted, a grin on her face as she raised her snowball threateningly in the air. 

“Never!” Mimura screamed from his position on the freezing ground, completely at her mercy. “I am the Fae Lord! I will go down in honor!” 

“I gave you a warning, and you refused it. Tsk tsk.” Fuwa shook her head in mock disappointment, ready to pelt him with the snowball. All of a sudden, a flurry of snow collapsed against the side of her coat. 

“Huh?! Who hit me?!” She demanded, dropping her icy weapon in surprise. 

A head peeked out from behind the snow fort. “Mimura!” Hayami called, already gathering another lethal snowball. “Run!”

He obeyed and made a run for it, nearly slipping on the snowy ground, all while dodging a flurry of snow aimed at him. Wow, must be from our training, he thought with a smile.

“Aw shit!” Mimura glanced up at the sound of Okajima’s voice and nearly fell over at the sight of the pervert completely covered in a giant pile of snow, that fell from the tree above him. 

Okajima had an expression of resignation while his partner, Nakamura, looked like she was busting a lung from her laughter. 

“Don’t just laugh! Help me!” Okajima pleaded.

Nakamura wiped a tear from her eye, her body still shaking with laughter. “Sorry kid, but I have to go win this thing.” She straightened up and flashed him a wink. “I’ll win for you though!”

“Nakamura, wait-!” But she’d already dashed away, back into the field, cackling maniacally in anticipation of attacking her friends.

Another half hour of fighting and fun passed by. There wasn’t a clear winner in the end, and it ended in a tie between Fuwa and Nakamura. But needless to say, all of the enjoyed themselves immensely.

“Ah, that was so much fun,” Nakamura sighed, gazing up at the wintery blue sky. 

All seven of them were laying on the snow-covered field besides each other, catching their breath and waiting for the adrenaline rush to wear off. 

“I’m glad we did this,” Hayami agreed quietly, smiling at her.

“See? I told you guys it’d be awesome,” Fuwa sighed, making a snow angel as she waved her arms and legs against the snow.

“Yeah, you were right.” Mimura laughed, copying her movements.

“Well, my ass is still freezing,” Sugaya chimed in, earning laughter from all of them. “But I will admit, I had fun.” He smiled.

Chiba smirked. “Oh, I especially enjoyed getting a free excuse to beat Okajima.”

“Oh, seconded.”

“Definitely.”

“It goes without saying.”

“WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS TREATMENT?” Okajima sobbed.

“We’re just kidding, you oaf,” Nakamura snickered, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “We actually kinda love you.”

“I mean, seeing that tree dump all of the snow onto you was the highlight of my year, but yeah,” Mimura added.

“You guys are the worst,” Okajima groaned. “I almost died!”

“You loveeeee us~!” They all teased him.

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes fondly. “But speaking of die, I think I will if we stay out here any longer. It’s so damn cold!” He shivered.

“Alright.” Mimura stood and stretched his arms out. “Time to get to my house for some hot chocolate and a Christmas movie. Which move do you guys want?”

“Home Alone!” Nakamura shouted.

“No, we’ve already watched that,” Chiba complained.

“Then...Home Alone 2!”

“No!” He yelled.

Fuwa chimed in. “I want to watch The Polar Express!”

“That one is boring.” Sugaya scrunched his nose. “How about Gremlins instead?”

“If I wanted to watch something about Gremlins, I’d just look at Kimura’s behavior for a whole day,” Hayami snarked.

Mimura chuckled and waved his arms. “Ok ok, guys calm down! These are all great suggestions, but let’s decide on one.”

“How?” Okajima questioned.

“Another snowball fight?” Fuwa suggested, a glint to her eyes as she grinned.

“FUWA NO-”

[vivi-the-sky-kid]

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 1

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I'm Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai's Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom's history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King's mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there's not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there's something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 1

Word Count: 2,477

Warning(s): None

-<◇>-

Fury powered her strides as Tav marched towards the elevator leading to Elder Lamed's level of the Vault. What they had overheard... it was unthinkable! Outrageous! And they intended to let Lamed know exactly that! She couldn't let her research be used like this. Not to harm the very creatures they had spent their life studying.

Onwards and upwards she went, a lone figure on the elevator. Scholars sorting memory cubes and acolytes tending to the spiritual residue of the Kingdom's history flew past her vision. Finally, the elevator came to a stop, its power diamond moving to rest over the Elder statues, and Tav mustered their psychokinetic powers to fly the short distance to the grassy island. That had been a trick the mantas had helped her master; if not for them, she would still struggle to get around Vault's upper levels like before. They took a breath to steady themself, adjusted the prairie lily clipped to their hair, and moved forward.

As they crested the structure bearing the Elder statues, Tav looked around. She could see no sign of Elder Lamed, which meant, more likely than not, the Elder had withdrawn into their private domain. There was nothing for it but to light the altar candles, sit before their statue, and pray.

Their legs had started to fall asleep when they finally felt the brush against their mind that meant Lamed had heard their prayer, and was ready to listen. She relaxed and let the Elder pull their consciousness into that dreamy world. When they next opened their eyes, they knelt in the same spot, although the elevator diamond was now gone, casting the area in comfortable shadows. In the statue's place stood Lamed, gazing down at her with an unreadable look.

“Ah, so you are the one who prayed. Tav, was it? Head of the light creature research effort?”

“That's correct, Elder Lamed. I've come to you regarding a decision involving my research.”

“Is that so?” Their eyes flickered beneath the mask, before they dipped their head. “Very well. Speak.”

Tav jumped to their feet, hands clenching the fabric of their robe. “Elder Lamed, I cannot permit my research to be used to develop these 'dark weapons' R&D is proposing! Light creatures are beautiful, wonderful creatures that share a great deal in common with us. They are intelligent, gentle, and loving beings. To turn them into weapons is... is... is out of the question!”

The Elder's eyes had grown wide at her outburst, but soon closed as they pressed a hand to their forehead. “Really, Tav, you're being unreasonable. R&D has already gained permission from the King to go forth with this project. Are you saying you doubt His Majesty's judgment regarding the good of the kingdom?”

“Yes!”

Silence filled the domain. Sweat began running down Tav's back as a great pressure weighed down on them. When they almost gave in and knelt once more, it lifted, and Lamed turned away.

“I expect your research to be turned in to the Vault at the appropriate deadline. Is that understood?”

Tav was silent.

“I said, is that understood, Tav?”

“...It is, Elder Lamed.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

With that, their vision swam, and they closed their eyes to ward off the nausea. Upon opening them, she found herself back at the summit, the power diamond shining coldly overhead. They looked up at the statue and sighed.

Resolve filled them once more, and they stood and walked back to the elevator. Lamed may not have listened, but there was one more person she could try to convince. All reports of the King had them as a kind and benevolent ruler who listened to the people, yet these latest projects said otherwise. Which was the truth, and which was a lie? There was only one way to find out.

Tav swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. This was no time to get cold feet. The light creatures were counting on them.

First things first, however. She needed to keep her research out of the wrong hands.

-<◇>-

Another day, another round of paperwork. Resh sighed inwardly as he dipped his manta quill into the inkwell to sign the latest report from the Golden Land's biggest sunsteel refinery. Production was holding steady due to the shipment of light from Daylight Prairie, and they would likely have enough in reserve for the little project Vault R&D had recently proposed.

A soft call from the doorway caught their attention, and they lifted their head. One of the guards—a new recruit, if their nervous demeanor was any indication—was standing there somewhat awkwardly, but snapped to attention once his gaze was upon them.

Yes, definitely new. That salute was just a little bit too sloppy to be one of the older members.

“What is it?” he said, fixing his gaze on them.

They stiffened. “Y-Your Majesty, there is... a researcher from the Vault demanding to speak with you. They refuse to leave otherwise.”

“Return them to the Vault. We have no time for a meeting, let alone with some unknown researcher,” they replied, returning to their paperwork.

“What do they want?” said a new voice, chiming up from the door leading further into the royal quarters.

Resh blinked and slowly turned towards it. Watching the exchange was their twin, Alef, still dressed in the formal wear of the golden mask, yellow-painted pizaine, and midnight-blue cloak they used for being the public face of the King. They must have returned a short time ago from their trip to the Valley.

“Your Majesty, they have requested you withdraw your support for the Dark Matter Bioweapon project.”

“Have they, now?” Resh shook his head. “Unfortunately, it is too late. The proposal has been signed and delivered to the Vault. To withdraw it now would be equivalent to saying We have made a mistake.”

They let the implications of that statement hang in the air like a sword above the guard's head. With a stammered response of, “Of course, Your Majesty,” they left, and soon only Alef and Resh remained in the office. The latter ignored the former's pointed look, turning back to the stack of paperwork that had yet to be completed with another sigh.

“You've been doing that a lot lately. Perhaps you should take a break.”

Resh shot them a glare out of the corner of his eye, but did not stop his work. Only when they had signed a petition to expand the Valley of Triumph, a tally of candle production in the Isle of Dawn, and a request for more light shipments to the Hidden Forest, did they gesture with their free hand to the desk's contents.

“As you can see, Alef, I am kept busy with the affairs of the kingdom. I am King, after all. My guidance is needed to ensure the kingdom's prosperity.” He dipped the quill into the inkwell once more and grabbed another piece of paper—this time, a request from the Valley to provide them with more boats, as some had broken recently.

“I cannot rest until I have dealt with these matters” —and they said this last bit under their breath— “even if they are incredibly dull.”

Alef hummed and moved closer, cloak swishing softly around his body. They picked up one of the papers in the discarded stack, scanned it, and then looked to Resh. “Surely you can rest from these for a short time? All work and no play makes one a dull star.”

“How rich, coming from the one who only concerns themself with attending celebrations and avoiding any work here,” they replied.

Alef narrowed his eyes, then shook his head and shrugged.

“You want me to do some work here? Very well.” They went up to the switch next to the desk, which would summon a guard when activated (not that Resh had ever used it), and called forth their inner flame in one hand to light it. Soon enough, the same guard from before came to the office. They gave the salute again, a little more firmly this time.

“You called, Your Majesty?”

“Is the researcher still here?”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. I was on my way to relay your wishes when you summoned me back.”

“I have decided to grant them an audience. Please have them escorted to the throne room.”

“Oh, uh...” They cleared their throat. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“What are you doing?” Resh said, eyeing their sibling with suspicion.

“Work. You said you were too busy to meet with them, didn't you? Well, it just so happens that I am remarkably free. As your dear elder sibling, it is the least I can do for you, Resh.”

With that, they glided from the office before Resh could stop them, leaving him standing with his hand grasping at air.

They sighed.

-<◇>-

The throne room was easily the largest chamber of the Palace, with a throne built to match—a deliberate choice on Resh's part, during its construction all those years ago. Looking the part was half the battle, and what better way to show your kingliness than by being five times the size of Elder Tsadi, he had said. Which Alef now was, having shifted in size to full height as they approached the throne room. The guards at the entrance snapped to attention, and he nodded in greeting as he passed through.

Near the far wall was the diminutive figure of the researcher, their head craned back to take in the full view of the mural displayed there. Two guards flanked them, ensuring they didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to be. Alef cleared their throat, the sound echoing to every nook and cranny due to the chamber's acoustics, and every person in the room jumped. The guards soon lined up and stood at attention, and the rogue researcher turned to look at him as he took his place on the throne. One guard said something quietly to them, and the researcher nodded, brushed out their robe, and walked forward beside the guards.

“So this is the spirit who requested an audience with Us?” Alef intoned, glancing down at the guard who escorted them, and they nodded timidly. His eyes returned to the spirit, noting that, even with the crest typical of the Vault's senior members, they barely surpassed most of the guards in height. Despite this huge difference in size between them and himself, they barely trembled.

How interesting.

“We permit you to speak, spirit.”

They bowed in acknowledgment, and upon straightening, called out, “Your Majesty, I must urge you to reconsider this Dark Matter Bioweapon project! Light creatures are our friends. They do not deserve to be treated like mere tools, to be used up and cast aside!”

Alef tilted their head to the side thoughtfully, taking their chin between their thumb and index finger.

“...What is your name, star?”

“My name is Tav, Your Majesty. Head of the Vault's research into light creatures.”

“I see.” They leaned forward, casting their shadow over Tav. “Tell Us, Tav. This project is intended to better the kingdom's future. If light creatures are our friends, do they not owe this kingdom their aid, in whatever form we require?”

Tav stepped forward, their hands balling up at their sides.

“There must be a better way than this! Whatever future that project holds is worse than one where we treat the light creatures as our allies. I know it! Please, Your Majesty, let me show you.”

How very interesting.

And exactly what they needed.

Alef steepled their fingers before them, resting their elbows on the armrests of the throne. A sly grin formed on his face. Though it was hidden by their mask, Tav seemed to sense its presence, because they took an involuntary step back.

“We have an offer for you, Tav.”

At the same time, they called out to their sibling and requested their presence in the throne room.

-<◇>-

Resh sighed as they walked.

At one point, the magnificent tapestries and luminous murals decorating the walls of the throne room had brought him such joy. But that had been many, many years ago—too many to count. Now they were just another feature of the brilliant, intricate, boringthrone room, easily ignored in favor of dealing with the unwelcome researcher currently standing before the throne. The reason they had been called away from their work by their sibling.

“Ah, there you are,” Alef said from their spot on the throne. They turned back to the spirit. “Resh is Our Will, you see. They are the one who approved the project. Now, We will send a message to the Vault requesting that they do not proceed with the project until We permit. You have until then to persuade Resh of the truth of your words.”

...What?

The two of them turned, and Resh winced when he realized he had spoken aloud.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was just wondering what this task you have given me is.”

“Ah, of course. You see, Resh, Tav here would like to show Us that light creatures should not be used in the Dark Matter Bioweapon project. However, We have our duties to contend with, and so cannot leave the Palace for such a matter. You, on the other hand, are Our Will, and so We have decided that you shall go in Our stead.”

Even from this distance, and even with the mask hiding their face, Resh could feel the gleeful smugness radiating from Alef like heat from a flame. Their most venomous thoughts, directed like psychic arrows at their twin, only increased the smugness, and so, narrowing their eyes, they bowed courteously to the researcher—Tav, was it?

“As you wish, Your Majesty. When shall we be departing?”

“I assume Tav here needs some time to prepare their case. We shall permit them a day to do so. On the morrow, you shall follow after them to...?”

“Oh, uh, Daylight Prairie, Your Majesty.”

“Daylight Prairie. I can see why you chose to do your research there.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Tav said, bowing deeply before leaving with their escorts.

When they were gone, Resh unleashed the full force of their glare at Alef, folding their arms before their chest.

“What are you plotting?”

“Why, nothing! Simply giving you the rest you deserve,” they said, rising from the throne. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I do believe there is paperwork with my name on it. Don't be late for the boat tomorrow, Resh. It would reflect poorly on Us.”

With that, they waved and left, shrinking back down to a more manageable size as they went. Resh watched them go, scowling and boring holes into the back of their head.

Then he sighed and returned to the royal quarters to rest and prepare appropriate clothing for this farce.

Alef would pay for this.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[autistic-stedebonnet]

I wanna be with you

Yueki week day one: modern au | songfic

@yuekiweek

This is supposed to be based on the song “I wanna be with you” by chloe moriondo, but I got a bit carried away so it’s not as obvious that it’s based on the song as I would like it to be. I’m still kind of proud of it though, so I hope you enjoy! :)

---

Swimming in my t-shirts No matter the weather Say what you mean I want to be with you…

...And it's almost unnatural how lame I act around you Give me a chance To say what I mean Please do the same

I want to be with you

Summers on Kyoshi Island were, as Suki had once proclaimed: “Almost as hot as Avatar Kyoshi herself.” Of course, compared to the fire nation, it was practically cold; but cut a girl some slack, Suki has horrible heat tolerance (Kyoshi warrior uniforms are made to be breathable, ok?) Such a fact makes for a wonderful excuse in persuading your crush to sneak away to a secluded pond instead of meeting their other friends for lunch.

---

Suki sighed with a noticeable air of melodrama, vigorously fanning herself as if she was looking to create a hurricane. “Spirits, it’s hot,” she complained. She rolled over from her spot on the floor, moving to better face Yue, who sat in a nearby chair, slouching uncharacteristically and using Suki’s other fan to cool herself. “Tell me you’re not dying of heatstroke.”

“I am,” Yue replied. “Are summers here always so dreadful?”

“Kind of?” Suki chuckled. “It’s always hot but not this hot. Don’t tell Zuko I said that, he thinks the weather is mild.” She perched her chin in her hands and smiled up at Yue. “But that’s just because he was raised in the damn Fire Nation. He has no tolerance for the cold.”

Yue giggled, likely thinking of the time where they’d all gone to visit the South Pole and Zuko had done an impressive job at scowling the entire time, whining that it should be illegal for anywhere to be that cold.

Suki had always thought that Yue’s laugh was like the first snowfall of the year; especially the laugh only her friends got to hear. The one that made her entire face shift and her dimples show. Suki smiled involuntarily, her eyes flicking from Yue’s dark eyes downwards, coming dangerously close to her lips, which had been painted a shimmery pink today; the shine a result of another one of Sokka’s concoctions that shockingly, hadn’t killed anyone yet.

“Suki? Suki?” Yue waved her hand in front of Suki’s face, frowning slightly.

“Huh?” Suki shook herself from her reverie, a crimson blush slowly overtaking her cheeks. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just…”

“Daydreaming again?” Yue asked. She grinned and reached out her hand to help Suki up. “Stand up, we’re meeting everyone for lunch soon.”

Suki took her hand begrudgingly, muttering something about it being too hot to move. She crossed her arms over her chest upon standing up and furrowed her brows in feigned anger. “I’m not hungry,” She said. Then, her expression changed instantaneously and she grasped at Yue’s forearm, beaming mischievously. “I have an idea!” She cried, practically jumping up in the air.

Yue narrowed her eyes skeptically. “What?”

“Well,” Suki drawled, throwing her arm over Yue’s shoulder. “What if we ditched?”

“And did what?” Yue asked, putting her hands on her hips and forcing herself not to smile.

“It’s a secret!” Suki said coaxingly. “We just ate an hour ago-”

“They’re expecting us!”

“Gotta keep ‘em on their toes,” Suki countered, nudging Yue playfully. “Come on! Why did you say you left the North Pole again?”

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing heavily. “I said I wanted to experience the world and make a positive impact,” She muttered.

“And what experience do you get out of not ditching lunch?” Suki said. “I’m sure your parents would tell you to go to lunch.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Yue giggled, ducking her head down to hide her laughter. Finally, she looked up at Suki, who was inches away from her face and smiling pleadingly. “Alright, alright!” She laughed, pushing Suki’s face away from her and trying to ignore the heat spreading across her cheeks. “You win.”

“Yes!” Suki cried, pumping her fist in the air. She turned to Yue and her expression softened. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

---

After sneaking in an unnecessarily stealth-like manner halfway across the island, Yue and Suki reached a small mountain, with vines and moss creeping around every inch.

“Are we… rock climbing?” Yue asked slowly, raising an inquisitive brow.

Suki chuckled and shook her head. “No, stupid, come on!” She reached up and carefully brushed aside the vines, holding her breath until a large entryway revealed the mountain to be hollow and she heard Yue suck in a sharp, awestruck breath.

White sand lined the entrance for a few feet, leading to a shallow pool of crystal clear water. The roof was open to the sky, slightly obscured by vines and tree branches, but allowing streams of sunlight to dance along the top of the water and illuminate the room. Yue stepped inside hesitantly, running her hand along the stone wall, mesmerized. “How long has this been here?” She asked.

Shrugging, Suki followed her in and letting the vines swing back over the entrance. “For as long as I’ve been on the island, at least. Possibly decades, or centuries.”

“It’s magical,” Yue breathed. “It’s like we’re in a different world.” She turned to Suki, smiling softly. “I think this was worth missing lunch.”

Suki inhaled sharply, nodding. “Oh. Oh it… yea I agree.” She caught Yue’s gaze and stared for a moment, finding herself lost in eyes that mimicked the deepest parts of the ocean and the strong bark on the trees near Suki’s house.

“Suki are you… are you okay?” Yue inquired, gently moving to rest a hand on Suki’s shoulder.

Startled, Suki jumped slightly, before nodding her head and grinning. “Of course I am.” She grasped Yue’s hand and pulled her closer to the water. “C’mon let’s swim!”

“Are you sure?” Yue said doubtfully. “We don’t have swimsuits.”

“What does that matter?” Suki laughed. “Live a little.” She shed her robe and lowered herself into the water in her leggings and tunic, the latter of which billowed out around her like clouds in a clear, blue sky. Leaning forward and positioning her arms on the edge, she smiled up at Yue. “You didn’t miss lunch just to stand around. Yue, please.”

“Well what are we gonna do after? Walk around the island, half dressed and soaking wet?”

“Hey, you’re getting it!” Suki chuckled loudly. “Seriously though, no one will care if we walk around a little wet. If anything it’ll be refreshing, considering it’s boiling hot outside.”

“I don’t know…” Yue said, biting at her lip. “Are you sure?”

“I’m in the water, aren’t I?”

Sighing, Yue nodded in agreement. “Alright. But you owe me!” She added the last part on, laughing; and pulled off her dress and boots, folding them neatly at the back of the space and walking back to the water in her trousers and thin, flowy tunic. She took a sharp intake of breath as the cool water hit her skin, but adjusted to it almost immediately, falling beside Suki, the water coming up just a few inches below her chest.

The vines creeping down the sides of the cave and into the walls of the pond danced in the warm summer breeze, like tides lapping at the shore. Sunlight flowed into the pool like a waterfall of fire, lighting their faces with liquid gold. Yue stood in silence for several moments, her eyes closed, drinking in the atmosphere. She breathed in deeply, shoulders rising peacefully, and falling back down again, sending her unraveling into the water. She lay on her back, her hair floating around her like the midnight sky seeping into the ocean.

Suki watched, moonstruck, as Yue drifted gracefully through the water, her chest rising and falling in synchrony with Suki’s. Her hands fell to her side, almost numb, in a trance. She wondered if Yue’s hair was as soft as the pool made it out to be. Perhaps if she stood still for long enough, the moon would rise and wrap them in her embrace, and they could stay here forever. Suki sunk gently to her knees, her chin floating just above the water-level, breath causing ripples in the glass. Time felt still for a moment, like the Earth and all the stars were breathing in.

When Yue stood up, her gray tunic sticking to her skin and her hair falling in long, damp waves down her back, Suki didn’t move. She was motionless as Yue moved towards her, leaning down and mimicking her position so they faced each other, both submerged from the neck down.

“Hi,” Yue said quietly; even the smallest whispers reverberated off the stone.

Suki’s face flushed bright red as she processed how close they were; she contemplated ducking her head under the water and staying there forever. “H-hi,” she sputtered, her voice raising an octave.

Yue giggled, bringing a hand to her lips. “What are you thinking about?” She asked, a soft smile flitting over her face as she floated closer to Suki.

“I’m thinking- I’m uh- I’m.” Flustered, Suki burst out laughing; the kind of awkward laugh that somehow turned genuine and rocked through your body until your sides hurt. “Sorry, I’m… I’m just thinking about how happy I am right now.”

Yue’s breath hitched slightly. “Really?”

“Yea…” Suki’s flush had died down and her confidence risen. She moved forward until he rface was mere inches from Yue’s, their lips just a breath apart. She could feel Yue’s hair drifting forward and brushing at her shoulders every so often. “I’m glad we skipped lunch.”

“Yea,” Yue agreed. “Me too.”

They fell back, reclining against the wall of the pool, watching as the sunlight dimmed, well aware that there wasn’t much time before stars appeared and the air grew too cool to swim. A light breeze whistled throughout the cave, bouncing off the walls.

“Yue?” Suki asked, her voice hardly a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I- I’m really glad that we’re friends.”

Yue stiffened almost unnoticeably. “Friends… yea,” she said, like the words had a bitter taste. “Is that… really what you mean?” She asked boldly.

Suki sat quietly for a moment, afraid that she couldn’t say the right thing. It felt like years before she finally said: “I feel safe with you.”

Yue nodded. “Me too.”

The words Suki wanted to say were stuck in her throat, and perhaps this was the perfect time to say them, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it would ruin the euphoria. 

Yue, I love you, more than anything. I want to be with you. 

But there was time. They had all the time in the world, and for now, they could sit beside each other, frozen in time until the sun disappeared and they had to walk through the night in sopping clothes. There was time.

[youidiotprince]

A Very Merry Ca$hqu€€ns Christmas

“No, Nora! Stay out!” Ava yelled from floor, scrambling to shield her nearly wrapped gift from Nora’s curious gaze. Nora had announced her presence with a quiet knock as she pushed open the door, hoping to catch Ava off guard and glimpse her gift.

“Why can’t I see, hm? If the present isn’t for me. . .” Nora teased, crossing her arms over her chest, feet still planted in the open doorway.

“Because I…” Ava floundered for an explanation that wouldn’t incriminate her, but she couldn’t string together the words. “Just because! It’ll ruin it either way, so you just have to get out.”

“If you say so.” Nora turned to leave, but as she closed the door behind her, she added, “I’m taking this as confirmation that you’re my Secret Santa, though.”

“Nora,” Ava groaned, grabbing the nearest item and throwing it at the now-closed door. When it fluttered to the ground only a foot or so in front of where she sat, she realized it was the glittery green bow she still had to stick atop her present. She’d opted for a more classic look, with red and white striped wrapping paper, thick and shiny, a purchase she’d splurged on for her gifts this year because she’d always liked the crisp lines and folds the more expensive papers made when wrapping. Nora’s gift, which she’d already put under the tree earlier that day, was wrapped in snowman-covered paper, something she’d had leftover from the year before, and maybe the year before that.

Ava peeled the backing from the sticky part of the bow and placed it, perfectly centered where the lines of ribbon intersected on top of her rectangular package. She could faintly hear the tinkling bells of the festive music Nora had just started playing, and she knew that was her cue to hurry it up.

With the package cradled under her arm, she left her room and called out to Nora, “Hey girl, what do you need me to do?”

Nora rounded the corner from the kitchen and eyed Ava’s now perfectly wrapped gift. “Ooh, that looks gorgeous,” Nora said with a mischievous look. “I can’t wait to open it.”

“Yeah, you wish,” Ava taunted with a smile. She placed her gift under the tree and brushed her hands clean of it. “Have you heard from the others yet?”

“Mm, they’re both on their way, they should be here any minute.”

The girls busied themselves plating the snacks they’d prepared and the cookies they’d baked until they heard a knock at the door, the thuds sounding in time with the cheesy Christmas carol playing over the speaker.

“Merry Friendsmas!” Mailin and Fatou shouted together, smiles spread almost as wide as their arms. Mailin modeled a headband with reindeer antlers stuck on top and red makeup on the tip of her nose, and Fatou wore a red and green patterned sweater trimmed with glittery tinsel around the neck, the wrists, and the bottom hem. They both held up their presents, Fatou’s in a wintery blue and silver giftbag and Mailin’s wrapped in what looked like newspaper or scrap paper of some sort. They’d dressed on theme, matching Nora’s all red look paired with a Santa hat and Ava’s cozy plaid Christmas pajamas. After a quiet beat during which they took in all their different looks, the girls erupted in excited chatter all at once, talking over each other in order to compliment and dissect their different outfits.

“That must be so itchy,” Nora told Fatou as Fatou told Ava how much she envied her cozy attire.

“Your nose!” Ava exclaimed to Mailin as she reached out almost close enough to touch it before Mailin flinched away.

“No, don’t ruin it yet. I forgot the lipstick at home,” Mailin admitted sheepishly. “Although it looks like I could just borrow Nora’s.” Nora puckered her red lips in response. She backed out of the way so they all could come in and make themselves comfy. They left their coats and boots in the entryway.

“Mulled wine, anyone?” Nora asked from the kitchen as Mailin and Fatou added their gifts to the pile in the main room and sat on the couch next to Ava. “I’ll be having hot chocolate, so that’s an option too.”

Ava and Fatou shared a look before Fatou answered for both of them, “Two mulled wines, please.”

“Oh wait, I’ll come help,” Mailin said as she leapt up from the couch and joined Nora in the kitchen. “Also, I’ll have a hot chocolate.”

Once they brought the drinks out to the others, they all settled into their easy rhythm, talking about the little details of their lives that had happened since they’d last seen each other, recounting some of their best and worst holiday memories before they met each other. Nora opened up about the year that her mother hadn’t gotten anyone any gifts and Kiki, trying to fix everything, went out and bought Nora a box of colored pencils and a coloring book and Zoe a bracelet-making kit with the small amount of money she had. It hadn’t been much but it had meant the world to both of them. Zoe made each of the sisters a bracelet, and she wondered if Kiki or Zoe still had theirs. Fatou shared that one of the best presents she ever received was a book about marine biology with lots of pictures of marine life. She told them that her brother made fun of her endlessly about it, but he was always looking over her shoulder as she’d read through it.

When they felt like they’d run out of stories, they sang carols and karaoke in pairs until Zoe hollered from her room for them to quiet down, and while the singing might have stopped, they didn’t actually adjust their volume much. Eventually, feeling like a little kid who’d been trying their best to wait patiently for the chance to open presents but who just couldn’t hold it in any longer, Ava admitted, “Girls, I can’t take it anymore. We need to do the gift exchange already.”

“Oh, you’re right!” Mailin gasped, as if she’d completely forgotten about the main event of the evening.

Nora clapped and then wiggled her fingers together excitedly, looking slowly at each of her friends. “Who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Fatou said, straining to reach the gift she’d left with the others. She finally snagged the handle with the tip of her finger, so she pulled it over and sat back upright. “Okay, drumroll please.” The girls started pounding their fists on their legs or on the floor, whichever was closer. “This is for… Ava!” Fatou held the gift out to her with a flourish, beaming.

“Chibi,” Ava said warmly, taking the decently sized bag from Fatou’s hand. It was stuffed with white tissue paper which Ava crumpled into a ball and handed to Nora, who was collecting the trash. Beneath all of that was the edge of a sleek black frame, which Ava pulled out carefully. The frame enclosed a photo of the stars in the night sky with a date underneath: October 2, 2020. Ava brushed her fingertips over the glass, hovering just above so as not leave a smudge.

“It’s a print of the constellations on the first day we all hung out together, when we stole that money,” Fatou blurted. “I know you’ve been looking for things to decorate the place with, and that day is so important to me, to us. This seemed like a good gift because we both love the universe and space and astrology so much.”

“Fatou, this is incredible.” Ava’s voice was full of genuine awe. “Seriously, this is perfect, I love it so much. We should all have one of these, honestly.” Nora and Mailin were craning their necks to get a better look, so Ava passed the print to them. As they admired it, Ava turned to Fatou. There was no way Fatou could know just how much this meant to her. How lame and lonely and insecure she felt before as she tried to rebuild her life here without a solid friend group, how difficult it was to watch other people find these friend groups that seemed like they’d last for life while Ava had paper thin friendships that were haunted by the words of her bullies, the doubts and fears they’d implanted in her. Ava felt as though this group of girls, this group of best friends, had finally allowed her to embrace herself with the confidence she had only ever faked before. Fatou couldn’t know how much that day meant to her in particular, but still, it felt like maybe she did, at least a little bit. “Thank you, Fatou. Really.”

“You’re welcome, Ava,” she said as she rested her head on Ava’s shoulder and snuggled closer, patting Ava’s knee tenderly.

After a few moments, Ava offered, “Okay, I’ll go next, and we can just go whoever receives the gift can give the next one? If that works out.” Everybody nodded so Ava grabbed her gift and settled back down on the couch. “Okay, this lovely, award-winning wrapping is for none other than… Mailin.”

“I get the best wrapped one,” Mailin said as she excitedly took the present from Ava and shook it next to her ear. When she brought it back down in front of her, she hesitated. “I almost don’t want to open it! But alas,” she said, and with that she ripped open the paper to reveal a jewelry box with a brand label printed on it that she’d never heard of. When she lifted the lid, she saw two sets of earrings, one set of green and blue tie-dye rectangular pendants with “climate” engraved in one and “justice” engraved in the other and one set of large globe earrings.

“They’re made from completely recycled materials, and the proceeds went to a campaign for climate justice here in Germany. And they just seemed so you,” Ava explained, motioning between the new earrings and the earrings Mailin was currently wearing, which were big candy canes dangling from her ears.

“No, these are awesome, I’ve been trying to develop my collection of fun earrings. These are fun and make a statement. Thank you. Okay, my turn.” Mailin jumped up to grab her newspaper package. “Special eco-friendly wrapping,” she boasted. “Hope you enjoy.” With that, she handed the gift off to Nora without much ceremony, which added its own bit of surprise.

“For me? Ah, okay, I’m excited,” Nora said as she tore into the newspaper. Underneath it all was a thick stack of shipping labels, some used and some unused. The used ones were obviously an attempt at recycling, which Nora appreciated. The sticker at the top of the stack already had a note on it, which must have been written by Mailin, as it said, “Coupon for free shipping label retrieval and delivery for a year. Ask and you will receive.”

“Those are what you used to do your drawings on when you left them around the city, right? I know you’ve probably worn yourself out with all the drawings you’ve done for our shirts, but as a token of appreciation for all of that, I will provide you with shipping label sticker things whenever you need them.” Mailin finished her explanation with a proud smile.

“This is really thoughtful, Mailin. I’ll definitely take you up on this coupon offer,” Nora said with a wink. She then turned to Fatou. “So it’s just you and me,” Nora joked, handing her gift off to Fatou.

“This box is light, I wonder what it could be,” Fatou said as she ripped off the paper. She was only teasing Nora about the weight of the box, but when she opened it all the way and looked inside, it really was empty. Just completely empty. Fatou looked up, confused, and made eye contact with Ava. Ava’s stomach lurched. It couldn’t be. Had Nora forgotten a gift? She wouldn’t do that to Fatou, would she? And if she had forgotten, why would she just wrap an empty box? She hated herself for thinking it, but after everything she’d been through, she couldn’t keep the thought away that maybe this was a prank, that maybe Nora’s friendship with all of them was some kind of prank. It was just a nagging thought in the back of her mind, it couldn’t possibly be true, but she still couldn’t ignore it, not completely.

At the same time, Fatou and Ava turned to look at Nora, trying to work out what exactly was going on, but she was engrossed in something on her phone, her lips turning up into a smile. How could she be so callous?

“Nora,” Fatou started, voice quiet and hesitant. Before she could say more, three phones buzzed with a new message, and Nora looked up, smile growing. Fatou had planned to ignore the text, but now she was suspicious. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and opened the message, her phone redirecting her to WhatsApp. There, in the ca$hqu€€ns groupchat, was a collection of stickers, some actual photos and some drawings, of axolotls. The drawings had the axolotls pulling funny facial expressions, emoting in different ways. A smile here, a frown there, a wink and a stuck-out tongue. Fatou felt Ava exhale beside her.

“I’m sorry for the empty box, I wanted to give you something to unwrap even though the gift was virtual, but my timing ended up being kind of off with that one,” Nora said, sheepish. “And they’re not exactly emojis, but they’re close, right?”

“My axolotl emoji,” Fatou said almost dreamily.

“Nora, these are awesome,” Mailin chimed in from beside her.

“Thanks. If you want any other facial expressions, just let me know.”

A content silence stretched between the girls, everyone feeling comfortable and warm, processing the gifts they’d just given and received.

“Guys, this was so great, I… you don’t understand how happy I am right now. You guys are the best.” Ava’s heart swelled with something that felt like pride, maybe, that these were the people she chose, that these were the people who chose her. Of course Nora wouldn’t let any of them down like that, not on purpose. None of them would. They all loved and respected each other too much. “The ca$hqu€€ns were written in the stars, you guys. We were fated.”

At Ava’s moment of vulnerability, all of the girls rushed to wrap her in the tightest group hug, falling all over each other and ending up in a messy pile of cuddles. Limbs tangled and faces smushed, and when they finally started to pull away a bit, Mailin took one look at Ava’s cheek and sighed.

“Oh no, I smeared my nose on your cheek.”

[tanakavox]

Taiyang was sitting down reading the morning paper, when he heard a loud knocking coming from the front door of the house. The knocking was in a pattern reminiscent to one of Zwei’s games that he had overheard before, and so he had a fairly good idea of who it was. He neatly laid his paper down before getting up and making his way to the door, opening it to reveal a young girl with short red hair that covered one of her bright violet eyes with a basket on one of her arms filled with fruits. 

She crooned her head up to look him in the eyes, before flashing him a bright smile that Tai couldn’t help but return in kind, before greeting him with an enthusiastic wave of her free hand.

“Hello Mr. Taiyang,” she happily chirped, “is Zwei here by chance?”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs in his room. Why don’t you come on in and make yourself at home,” Tai greeted in kind, inviting the young red head into his household.

She flashed him another smile as she walked inside, handing him a fresh apple from her basket, before making her way into the living room. As she made her way in, she paused before letting out an excited gasp as she saw Yang and Ruby relaxing in the room. Yang was seated in a recliner chair, while Ruby was sitting on the sofa cuddled up next to a blond haired boy with blue eyes who, unbeknownst to Rosemary, was shooting her a curious look.

“Yang, Ruby, you’re back,” she cheered as she ran up to hug the closest sister to her, which happened to be Yang

Yang rose out of her seat to greet the younger girl, kneeling down to her level before swooping her up as she happily returned Rosemary’s embrace.

“Hey there Rosey, long time no see huh,” she said with a warm smile, before taking notice of the basket in Rosemary's hand, “Oh, is that fresh fruit from your garden?” Rosemary nodded and handed an Orange to Yang and walked over to Ruby who laid on the couch and paused when she saw the blonde boy on the couch behind Ruby with his arms wrapped around her. She places the basket on the table and Ruby gives Rosemary the same warm smile.

“Hey Rosemary.” Ruby tilts her head up to Jaune. “This is Rosemary Thornbush, Jaune. She lives nearby. Rosey, Jaune Arc. My boyfriend.” Rosey eyes widen a bit.

“You're the boyfriend?!” She all but screamed. Jaune looked at the red haired girl a bit confused.

“Hi Rosemary...  Uh, how do you know about me?”

“Zwei probably told her. They tell each other everything.” Yang replied, peeling orange Rosemary given her and taking a huge. The sounds of footsteps running down appeared and Zwei appeared smiling brightly at the sight of Rosemary, a smile that was returned by Rosemary and they ran toward each other and locked their heads, pushing each other back.

“Rosey!” Zwei said with a grin pushing her back as far as he can.

“Zwei!” She grinned as well pushing him back with the same amount of effort. Jaune looked baffled. Ruby looked up to see her boyfriend’s expression and laughed.

“Yeah. I know they're weird.” Zwei and  Rosemary turn to blow a raspberry at Ruby which she returns. The young fanaus grabbed Rosemary hands and began to lead her outside.

“Come on, Rosey, let's go play Rock throw.” The two ran outside into the yard.

“Rock throw?” Jaune questioned, once again confused.

“It’s just some game where they throw rocks as far as they can.” Yang said, still eating the orange. “Zwei tries to cheat at that game a lot.”

“Okay, but he has a Ps4 and Xbox in his room. Why not play that?”

“Best not to question ten years old Jaune.”

Jaune wanted to argue more but knew Yang had a point, so he dropped it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up Taiyang giving him a small smile. 

“Hey there Jaune. You mind if we talk, just you and I?” Taiyang asked Jaune to try not to look nervous but it clearly failed as Tai went to reassure him. “Hey relax. It’s not big, just a friendly chat.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Jaune stood up and followed Tai into the next room, leaving Yang and Ruby alone Ruby turned to Yang and pulled out a switch.

“Pokemon or Smash?” She asked. Yang pulls out her own switch with a grin.

“Smash bros!” They sat down and began to play.

____________________________________________________________________________

‘’Zwei ran a bit into the forest with Rosemary far enough that the house was in sight. They both pick up some rocks and  Rosemary turns her friend.

“Don’t use your semblance, kay Zwei? Rosemary said with a smile. Zwei smiled back juggling a few pebbles.

“I promise I won’t use my semblance.” Rosemary stared at him.

Promise?”

“Yes!”

Rosemary turns away from and goes for her turn and using all the strength in her ten year old arms, sends the rock a good distance away from their arms. She turned to her friend with a huge grin.

“HA! Beat that!” Rosemary said triumphantly. Zwei grinned back and channeled a bit of his aura into the pebble he was holding, blue energy  surrounded it, and with a lazy arm swing, the pebble went zooming past the trees and high into the sky.

Rosemary turned to them with a glare and crossed her arms.

“You said you weren’t gonna use your semblance Zwei!” Rosemary said, still glaring at her friend.

“I didn’t!” Zwei said, holding back a smirk. The Redhair glared at him harder.

“You lie! You cheated.”

“Did not!

“Yeah huh!”

“Nope!” Zwei  popped the nope with a smirk. “And you can’t prove I did!”

Rosemary stare at the corgi fanus for a few with a blank stare before giving him a malicious grin   and turning toward the house and taking a deep inhale and screaming out:”RUBY!” as loud as she could. Zwei paled and started to wave his hands frantically.

“Okay Okay Okay! I did cheat! Are you happy now.” He panicked. Rosemary gave him a smug look as a storm as red petals came toward them, stopping in front of them, Ruby looked at the kids with a worried look.

“I heard Rosemary scream, you guys okay?!” Ruby exclaimed, kneeling down and beginning to check the kids over for injuries.

“Nothing. I just thought I saw beowulf, false alarm.” Rosemary replied innocently. Ruby sighed, placing a hand on her chest.

“Jeez. Don’t scare me like that!” Ruby there placed her hands on her hips and gave them a disapproving look.”And you two should be closer to the house  now come on.” She gesture for them to follow her and begins to walk back to the house, the kids begin to whine a bit.

“But Ruuubbby! We wanna play more!” Zwei whined

“Yeaaaaahhhh. Rosemary said joining him.’

Ruby turns to give them a disapproving stare that causes the kids to flinch and clamp up and walk behind Ruby without a word. She smiles and leads them forward to the paito, turning to pat Zwei’s head.

“Play here okay? I don’t want you guys to go too far and get hurt.” She said as she patted Rosemary's head as well.

“Yes, Ma'am,'' they said together in unison, a bit deadpan in their response. Ruby pinch their cheecks and walk back into the house yelling to Yang about kicking her butt. Rosemary smiled at her as she walked away.

“It’s great to have them back.” She said with a sigh sitting down on the ground. Zwei sighed as well as sat down next to her. 

“Yeah. It is.”He replied with a smile but it was soon with a frown.”I just wish she didn’t bring  blondie here.

Rosemary gives Zwei a blank stare.”Yang?”

“No dumbass, Jaune!” Rosemary began to laugh at the annoyed look on Zwei’s face and jumped when the patio door opened with Ruby glaring at her brother.

“Laugune Zwei!” She hissed a bit, her tone suggesting she did this song and dance more than once with her brother.

“Sorry sis.” Zwei mutters glaring a bit at the giggling Rosemary. Ruby leaves again and Rosemary turns back to Zwei with a quizzical look.

“What’s your problem with that Jaune guy? He seems nice.”

Zwei scoffed. “Well first he didn’t even know what Ben 10 was and just said some stupid about Transfomers and Ben 10! It was awful! He’s such a lame dork! He even send Optimus prime name wrong!”

Rosemary eyes flash anger. “What really?! Fu-screw this guy!” Rosemary yelling, catching herself from cursing.

“Zwei nodded in agrement and looked a the ground a bit sad. “But… I feel like he’s gonna take Ruby away and then…. I’ll never see her again....

Rosemary gave Zwei a blank stare for a few sew before she replied. “That’s stupid. Your being stupid.” 

Zwei looked up with an annoyed look. “Thanks Rosie…” He said saratricsly 

Rosemary simply shrugs, “I'm just saying dude.  That’s dumb. Ruby is not gonna leave because of a boy.” 

“You don’t know what he might be telling her.

“Neither do you. Stupid.” 

“Your stupid.”

“No you.”

“No you!

“No you!” 

Rosemary stood up push her head up against Zwei’s growling the Corgi fanauns pushing back, growling as well.

“Let’s settle in DB fighterz” said Zwei with a manic grin.

“Yer on!” Rosemary replied with a maniac grin as well. The kids ran into the house up stair to start their next game.

____________________________________________________________________________

Taiyang walk with Jaune into the kitchen and sat him down on the opposite side of the table from himself and stare at the blonde. And to Jaune’s credit he didn’t flinch, or looked scared. Well in his head he was freaking out, wondering why he called him in here, keeping silence until Taiyang broke it.

“So, I’m not gonna keep you here long, but I’ll just get straight to the point. Do you love my daugther?”

Jaune nodded and a bright smile was on his face.”Yes, more than anything. She pick me up when I’m down, believes in me when no one else would, and everytime I’m with her, I feel like I can do anything with her. She… amazing.

Taiyang smiles but it quickly disappears back into a stoic expression. “Well, you answer my second question. I can tell this wasn’t necessary at all. You seem like a good kid, but if you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.” Jaune nods at that semdomly and gets up to leave before Tai puts up his hand to stop him and he gives him a small grin. “Now before we leave, I have a question that isn't related to Ruby at all. You an ass or a boobs man?” 

Jaune shakes his head and smiles a bit. “Neither. Thighs for lives.”

Taiyang lets a howl of laughter as he stands up and claps Jaune on the back with a wide smile. “I see you're a man of culture as well!”

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part four

“In the five years you’ve known him, you’ve never really stopped to notice how much he has changed. Long gone is that awkward thirteen-year-old boy.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 1.9k

rating: pg-13

warnings: the usual character tension, nothing really too crazy...besides a shirtless jk lol

a/n: omg i love this chapter so much! eeek. it’s just very exciting imo lol. hope you all enjoy :) xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer – in which you come to a realization

“How come I’ve barely seen you these last few days?”

It’s the third day of you fulfilling out your punishment with Jeongguk, and surprisingly it hasn’t been that awful. When you both are busy cleaning, you guys rarely talk. There is just always so much to be done, it leaves little room for conversation. But this is ideal anyway; the less you have to interact with Jeongguk, the better.

Looking up from your lunch, you see Haru blinking at you. She’s the head counselor for Aphrodite’s cabin now. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

Even though she’s technically not supposed to, she takes a seat at your table anyway and gives you a concerned look. However, on her pretty face, even concern looks beautiful. “There’s a rumor going around that your cabin got in trouble.”

You freeze. “Who did you hear that from?”

“I heard some of the younger Aphrodite girls gossiping last night,” Haru says, “and they mentioned your name and Jeongguk’s.”

“Oh,” you don’t even know what to say. Styx. If the Aphrodite cabin knew, then everyone is bound to find out sooner or later. “Yeah, it’s a long story.”

Haru cocks her head. “Well, good thing I’m a great listener.”

As one of your closest friends here, Haru knows much about the history between you and Jeongguk. When you tell her about the attempted capture the flag game and how you’re stuck cleaning stables with your enemy, you can tell she’s struggling not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” she lets out a giggle. “This is all just too perfect.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, getting up to throw the rest of your meal as an offering. Walking out of the dining pavilion, Haru follows you closely behind.

“What I mean is,” she begins, looping her arm through yours, “that I can’t be the only one here who notices something.”

You have zero idea what she’s talking about. “Notice what?”

Haru suddenly forces you to stop in your tracks, angling your body towards the volleyball courts. “Notice that.”

Narrowing your gaze towards that direction, you notice there are a number of people there—especially girls. Rarely does a large crowd like that gather during this time of day; it’s the afternoon and an incredibly hot summer in Long Island this year. Your eyes move from the crowd to the players, and that’s when you see what Haru was talking about. You realize Ares’s cabin is playing against Poseidon’s, which means Jeongguk is—

“Why does he have to be so hot without a shirt on?” Haru muses, fanning herself.

From this angle, you can see the way his shorts ride dangerously low on his hips and the sweat that glistens across his skin. His hair has grown considerably long recently, and he has to continuously brush it back to reveal his eyes. As he moves to receive the ball and jumps to land a spike, you can understand why the girls are looking at him like he’s a god and not just a half-blood.

In the five years you’ve known him, you’ve never really stopped to notice how much he has changed. Long gone is that awkward thirteen-year-old boy. Obviously, training here at Camp Half-Blood makes campers leaner and more muscular, but Jeongguk looks…good—really good—which you hate to even think about.

“He looks okay,” you manage to say before you tear your eyes away from him.

Beside you, Haru huffs. “You’re so lame, y/n. Can’t even admit that Jeongguk is hot.”

“He’s annoying, that’s what he is.”

“Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “I think he looks especially delicious these days.”

After you drop Haru off at Cabin Ten, you walk towards yours and proceed to finish some summer work. Well, it’s not really work per se, but more like something you just really wanted to do. Since you’re going to college in New Rome this fall and majoring in architecture, you’ve been redesigning a few buildings and even creating your own. Like most Athena children, you love creating and can’t wait to see what your future holds in the field.

You are so caught up in your work that you don’t even notice that much of the day has already passed by, and you should probably grab a quick dinner before heading to the stables. As you rush through dinner, a few of your half-siblings bring up your punishment, clearly feeling bad that you’re the one who’s taken responsibility for everything.

“As head counselor, I had to,” you explain.

“Yeah, but it’s not really fair,” one of them says. “I mean, we all wanted to give Poseidon’s cabin a run for their money.”

“They’re all so arrogant since their godly parent is one of the big three.”

“Zeus and Hades campers are the same.”

You listen as your cabin begins complaining about all the other cabins and their various faults, but their voices fade when Jeongguk passes by your table. He’s walking with Jimin and gives you a look that you can’t decipher. But before you can delve too deeply in it, Aphrodite’s table calls him over. Flashing them his signature smirk, he leaves without another glance.

“How’s it been having to work with him?” Namjoon sets his plate right in front of you, breaking your attention away from Jeongguk.

You shrug. “He’s an asshole, but it actually hasn’t been that bad. Could honestly be worse.”

“Think you’ll last the rest of your punishment?”

“I hope so,” you sip from your goblet. “Or else Chiron is going to have my ass, and not to mention Mr. D is supposed to come back next week.”

“Oh yeah,” Namjoon muses like he forgot that the god of wine runs the camp. You don’t blame him—you often forget that too. “Where is he anyway?”

Thinking back to the head counselor meeting you had a few weeks ago, you try to remember what Chiron had told you all. “I think he just had some business to take care of in Olympus. You know, twelve stuff. Meetings perhaps?”

Namjoon nods before you tell him that you have to leave. “I’ll see you guys at the campfire later.”

“Sure; see ya.”

***

You finish your portion of the stables quick—cleaning has gotten easier as the days have gone by—and wait outside the stables.

It’s not like you want to wait for Jeongguk’s slow ass, but you have the key anyway and there’s no way you trust him enough to just leave it. So, you settle for watching the last remnants of the sunset in the sky. From here, you can begin to make out the smoke from the nightly campfire. And slowly, the smell of burnt marshmallows begins to fill your lungs and thought brings a smile to your face. 

For a moment, you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that Jeongguk is already beside you. When you realize that he’s awfully close to you, a gasp leaves your lips. “Holy Styx, you scared me!”

You except him to respond with something snarky, but he doesn’t. Instead, he begins to walk away, and you frantically attempt to lock the gate and follow him. On the way to the campfire, you stay a few feet behind Jeongguk, and you can’t help but think about Haru’s words from earlier today.

As much as it pisses you off, Jeongguk is super attractive these days. However, although he looks good, you can’t get over his attitude that often clouds your judgement. He’s a pain in the ass, and you can’t wait for the rest of the punishment to fly by.

When you both arrive at the campfire, the singing has already begun. Well, the singing by Apollo’s cabin at least. You try to get as far away from Jeongguk as possible, finding a seat beside Min Yoongi, son of Hades. The pale boy gives you a weird look, probably wondering why you’re sitting beside him.

“What in Zeus’s name do you think you’re doing?” he asks, confirming your thoughts.

You feign innocence. “What do you mean?”

“Y/n, you never sit here.”

He is partially correct—you usually sit beside your own cabin or Haru—but you two are friends…right? You voice this thought to him, but Yoongi just rolls his eyes—clearly not enthused by you or Hoseok’s lyre playing. “Oh, don’t be like that, Yoongi. We are friends.”

“What have you been doing with Jeongguk?” he suddenly changes the subject, and everyone’s singing seems to fade into the background. “You two aren’t…sneaking around, are you?”

The suggestive look on Yoongi’s face would be hilarious any other moment—because he rarely shows any emotion—but you choke at his assumption instead. “Oh gods no. Why would I do something like that?”

“Beats me,” Yoongi shrugs. “All I know is you both look suspicious as fuck.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” you huff, “Jeongguk and I aren’t sneaking around. That’s disgusting.”

“Then what are you two doing coming to the campfire together?” If Yoongi doesn’t know about your punishment, then most people probably don’t know either. That brings you a little relief.

Although you don’t want everyone to know, you also don’t mind telling Yoongi. As a Hades kid, he mostly keeps to himself anyway. So, you answer his question and reveal that you actually got in trouble, which is why you’ve been spending extra time with the son of Poseidon.

“So, yeah, Chiron’s making us build teamwork skills,” you practically spit out.

Yoongi hums, eyes moving from you to glance at the fire. You take a moment to observe him, glancing at his dark hair and dark clothes. How does he manage to get away with not wearing the camp t-shirt? Maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Interesting,” is all he says.

“How so?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer your question; instead, he asks, “So, how’s it been building teamwork skills with Jeongguk?”

“I mean,” you begin, “it could be worse, I guess. Jeongguk and I usually fight all the time; but we really haven’t these last few days.”

“That’s some progress, yes?”

You nod. “I suppose.”

“Think you’ll hate the poor kid forever?” Turning your head to face him, you notice a weird expression in his eyes. You don’t really know what it means.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. “Forever’s a long time.”

Silence passes between you after that, the both of you paying attention to Chiron’s announcements. Afterwards, more music is played, and more singing is done—some campers even get up to dance with the nymphs. Eventually, the night ends and everyone slowly begins to walk back to their cabins. You’re about to join Namjoon and the rest of Athena’s cabin when Yoongi’s voice holds you back.

“I think you should give Jeongguk a chance.”

You raise a brow at that. Is he being serious? “What?”

“He’s not as horrible as you make him seem,” Yoongi says, which causes you to roll your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Are we talking about the same person?” You almost want to laugh. Where is this even coming from? “Because if so, you have a really different perception of Jeongguk than I do.”

“Maybe I do because I’m a child of the Big Three too, which means I empathize with him; but at the same time, you’ve only seen one side of Jeongguk—the side you want to see. The side he shows when you two are at odds.”

You think about this for a moment, but quickly shake your head. “I don’t know, Yoongi.”

“Trust me,” he says before leaving you to stand there all alone.

[nerdypanda3126]

Don’t Know What Hit Him – Chapter 3

The next day, Marinette seems upset for some reason, and although she doesn't seem to want to talk to Adrien, maybe she'll tell Chat Noir what's on her mind.

Read on Ao3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tomorrow came entirely too soon. He slid into his seat next to Nino, then turned to check and Marinette’s seat was—predictably—empty. He couldn’t help his disappointed frown. But his eyes slid over to Alya and she was watching him with a sly grin. He jolted back to the front before she could fire off any questions. 

“Dude,” Nino said beside him, smacking his arm casually. “Why didn’t you tell me you were asking Marinette to the dance?” 

Of course. Marinette would’ve told Alya, who would’ve told Nino. He hadn’t thought of that. His eyes widened. A blush rose on his cheeks. His hand automatically came up to rub at the nape of his neck. “I… uh… I mean…” Nothing. His mind was entirely blank. 

Nino shared a glance with Alya. Just then, the girl in question skidded into the door and rushed up to her seat, thumping down just before Mme. Bustier walked in and started class, thankfully sparing Adrien from any more probing questions. But he could feel Marinette’s presence behind him. 

I want to tell him I love him.

Her words echoed through his head, over and over. He was blushing again, he knew it, even as he stared down at the blank screen of his notepad in front of him. He was supposed to be taking notes. He was supposed to be paying attention, but all he seemed to be able to process was that warm sugary-cinnamon scent that had wafted past him as Marinette ran to her seat and seemed to be hovering like a cloud over him. Why was it so familiar? 

Nino nudged him. He looked up and Mme. Bustier was looking at him expectantly. She’d asked him a question? She sighed at his blank look and moved on, thankfully, and soon after that the bell rang for lunch. 

“I’ve never seen you this spaced, dude. What’s going on?” Nino asked in a stage whisper. 

He turned to face Nino, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Alya and Marinette were waiting for his answer, too. He turned more fully and caught Marinette’s eyes, instantly prompting a blush from her. From him, too, he noticed a little belatedly. 

“Hi, A-Adrien,” she said softly.

“Hey.” He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face any more than he could’ve helped his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. “Last night… um…” 

“Yeah?” The hope and concern mixed into her tone made his hand travel up to his neck again. 

“Thanks for agreeing to go to the dance with me,” he said, lamely. 

“Anything for a… friend.” Her blush went bright red as she stumbled over the word. Then her expression fell and she muttered to Alya that she was going home for lunch and she slunk out of her seat and walked off without another word to him. 

He watched after her, bewildered. Had he done something… wrong? 

Nino nudged him again and motioned with his head towards the door. He nodded back, shouldered his bag, and ran after Marinette. Just before he left the classroom, he noticed Alya and Nino share another loaded look. But he didn’t concern himself with that. Not like he had much clue what was going on either. 

“Marinette!” he called after her retreating figure. She paused and turned. “Marinette, wait.” Thankfully, she did, but once he’d caught up to her, he still didn’t really know what to say. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, breathlessly. 

“Across the street?” Her head tilted with her question and her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yes. Yeah.” He’d entirely forgotten that her house was a crosswalk away from the school. “I… um…” Get it together, Agreste. “I wondered if… I mean, are you making your dress, or do you have your dress already?” 

“Why?” 

“So I can match. At the dance. I mean… if you want, since… but… maybe you don’t want me to?” 

She considered him carefully, her blue eyes, blue as the summer sky, searching his expression for… well, something, but he didn’t know what she was looking for. Or what she apparently found. She turned away from him, biting her lip. 

“It’s green,” she said, almost absent-mindedly. “Dark green and black.” 

He blinked. Green wasn’t a color he would’ve guessed for her. Pink, maybe, or even red, but green? He must’ve made a face, because she blushed and muttered something he didn’t catch and practically ran away from him, her head lowered, her shoulders drooping. 

She was quiet the rest of the day, and although she smiled as she said goodbye, she wasn’t meeting his eyes, or Alya’s for that matter, either. 

“I think you broke Marinette,” Alya said, frowning. “What did you say to her at lunch?” 

“I asked her what color her dress was,” Adrien answered. Then it hit him. Dark green and black. Those were his colors. Chat Noir’s. Marinette would be wearing Chat Noir’s colors to the dance. “Sorry, I have to go,” he told Alya and Nino hurriedly, rushing out the door for the second time of the day, although this time it was to transform. 

When he tapped on her window, suited up again, his heart pounding in his throat, she seemed to be in the middle of ranting to herself, although she stopped abruptly to let him in her window. 

“Ready for one last dance lesson?” he asked, surprised at the confidence and cluelessness he was exuding. 

But she started wringing her hands and pacing and he dropped to her floor in a crouch to watch her. 

“Chat… I can’t do this!” she exclaimed suddenly, throwing her hands up but continuing her frantic pacing. “Adrien, he asked me to go with him, completely out of the blue, and I know it’s because we’re friends and Alya and Nino are going together and it only makes sense, and his father likes me, and there’s no other reason, but that means that if I go with him then I can’t tell him because we’re going as friends and it’s just… Disaster, it’s a disaster, a complete disaster!” 

She crouched to the floor with him, hiding her face in her knees, and he was dumbstruck. Was that why she was upset in class today? He’d asked her, but because he’d asked her she thought he’d meant… this was such a mess. 

“Unless…” he heard her whisper, and he turned his attention back to her. She looked up at him from under her arms, her eyes hopeful and pleading. “Maybe you could come with me?” 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Plagg cackling. Rightfully so. Somehow, his mouth managed to ask, “But I thought you were going with Adrien?” 

“I am! But…” She blushed fiercely and hid behind her knees again. 

“But?” 

“I do better when you’re around,” she muttered. It was only thanks to his advanced hearing that he even heard her. She took a deep breath then and managed to meet his eyes again, her blush still tingeing her cheeks pink. “And besides, we’ll match.” 

She stood and went to her closet to pull out the dress that Adrien had asked about earlier that day. A shimmering dark green, tea-length dress with black tulle underneath the full skirt and a wide black ribbon at the cinched-in waist. He could just barely make out Marinette’s design signature on the inside of the collar, in gold thread. Which meant she’d made this. And it must’ve taken her at least a month. About the same time their dance lessons started up. Which meant… she’d… planned on matching Chat Noir. Had she planned on asking him to go with her all along?  

His eyes bounced up to hers and he couldn’t really breathe. She was watching his reaction shyly.  

“Anything for a friend,” he finally managed to say, her words coming back to haunt him. That crease between her eyebrows was back. 

“Right.” 

Her disappointment hung heavy in the air between them. His tail was flicking behind him nervously, but he knew better than to try and stand up or move this time. He’d end up sending himself through her window or something. Instead he cleared his throat. 

“Besides, what kind of partner would I be if I let you take on a dangerous mission alone?” He quirked his eyebrows and smirked, trying to make it a joke, but her eyes went wide and she paled. 

“P-Partner? Why would you think—We’re not, I mean, I’m not, I mean—” 

His head tilted to the side before he could stop it. “You know, like dance partners. Partners in crime, that kind of thing. We’re a team.” 

She let out her breath in a whoosh of relief. “Of course, dance partners, because what other partners would we be?” Her voice was too high and her smile was too wooden. He’d hit some nerve, but he couldn’t tell what it might be. She turned to put the dress away again, but it stayed in his sight, like there was a bright spotlight on it now. 

“So… I guess one last dance lesson? Partner?” she asked, and he cleared his throat and nodded, standing carefully to avoid getting caught in his tail. 

They entered their frame, but his counting was off, his steps were off, his everything was off. She giggled as he narrowly missed stepping on her toes… again. 

“The student becomes the master,” she said, and when she looked at him, those eyes so bright and clear, her smile glowing, her cheeks a beautiful cherry blossom pink, he was surprised he could remember how to dance at all. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Ah, Mademoiselle Raven, we meet again! It has been far too long, and I have missed your presence! Have you given any thought to reconsider my offer at the alter from our Ghost Marriage rendezvous? I am just a *quiver* at the prospect of your magnifique hand in marriage! Non, but I get ahead of myself. I have forgotten, Monsieur Mastermind has already claimed you as theirs, has he not? Ah, but I do relish a challenge! Oui!" - Yours, Rook Hunt

This ask was in my inbox prior to the release of part 5 of the cursed raven’s tale. Since the Jade Simping Saga is inherently tied to the story of the cursed raven, this message was what prompted the addition of Rook as a main character. (...Given the recent context of Raven’s backstory, this series does not seem nearly as light-hearted as it once was.)

With a name and face to now put to Miss Raven, I shall be changing minor things (such a pronouns and capitalization of raven) to reflect her character.

I would recommend reading this installment and this installment prior to this post.

Let the hunt begin.

The Writing Raven dies a little on the inside.

“...Oh. You mean the ring.” 

“Oui.”

“I took that off and shoved it into a drawer a while ago.” Raven holds up her right hand--and it is without adornment. “Even if it was a gift, wearing it for any longer would make my stomach churn. Looking at that thing brings back...unpleasant memories.”

His verdant eyes crease with delight. “Hohoh. So I see!”

She regards him with a long, hard stare--then folds her arms. “...I don’t know what the gossips of Pomefiore have been whispering in your ears, but I can assure you that no one but that slimy eel acknowledges the meaning behind the ring.”

“Is that so? Then perhaps there was no need for me to be quite so concerned,” Rook says with an airy laugh. “Do forgive me for the intrusive comments, mon petit oiseau. This hunter cannot help but be a bit nosy when his aimée is in danger of being snatched up in the clutches of a heinous fiend--”

“Now hold on,” Raven interrupts, “I never said anything about accepting your offer, either.”

“Ah, ma cherie, there is no need to be coy!” Rook declares with a wink and it’s a damn cute one. He pantomimes the motion of nocking an arrow and letting it fly--right into Raven’s chest. “The fact that you have chosen to cast aside Monsieur Mastermind’s affections...it means that you are fair prey~”

“Please do not shoot me down.”

“But of course.” Rook’s smile is as brilliant as the rising sun. “However--know that if you should ever fall, I will always be there to catch you safely in my arms! That is my promise to you, Mademoiselle Raven.”

“Promise...” Raven instinctively glances away--and she finds herself lingering on her right hand, where the ring once laid. The hunter follows her gaze.

“An observation--if you will allow, mon petit oiseau.” Rook leans down, peering into Raven’s wide, amber eyes. Golden locks tumble over his face, and his lips unfurl into a toothy grin.

“...What is it?”

“Your words and your actions betray each other. A beautiful contradiction, but a contradiction nonetheless,” Rook notes. “Perhaps there are words still left unspoken, buried in the recesses of your heart--words which you struggle to set free into the sky.”

“He has hurt you dearly--I can understand why you would be cautious to spread your wings and fly again into a storm that has struck you down once before. But I am not Monsieur Mastermind.”

“I would never dare dream of harming such a  magnifique creature such as yourself. I will protect you. I will tell you only the truth. I will heal the scars that he has left upon your fragile little heart.”

He gingerly takes Raven’s hands in his and squeezes. His eyes are half-lidded, but not once has his gaze strayed.

“Throw caution to the wind, ma cherie. Be honest with yourself. Forget him, and accept me.”

“I...”

“Three words, eight letters. Say it, and I am yours.”

Rook has never looked so fierce, so determined.

As handsome and pure as a prince from a fairy tale.

And yet, and yet...! Those same three words that would set his heart aflutter are the same three words that will kill her.

She hesitates.

Quivers.

Fear coating her tongue.

“I...I can’t.”

Raven pries her hands back and gently pushes him away--and he lets her go. Easily--yet Rook continues to watch her, his lips curved into a small smile. Gently coaxing her.

“It’s not you, or Jade,” Raven mumbles, wringing her hands together. She takes a deep breath and forces her racing heart down. “It’s...it’s me. I do not think I am...ready. I have scarcely experienced school life to begin with--and when it comes to matters of romance, I am nothing more than a newly hatched chick.”

“I see.” Rook nods, satisfied with the answer.

He has a talent for that, Raven realizes. Jade takes her words--and her breath--away, but Rook has a talent for drawing out what she tries to keep buried.

“If that is the case, then I will drop the issue for today~” he chirps, tipping his hat. His expression suddenly becomes serious again. “Mon petit oiseau.”

“...Yes?”

“Do not think this means I will relent. What sort of hunter would I be if I were to give up the chase so easily?”

“Right. Of course. I expected nothing less from you.”

“Hohoh. One day, you will be comfortable and worldly enough to leave your cage and brave the storm once more--and when you do, I will welcome you with open arms.” Rook waves his arm in a wide arc and cheekily adds, “We shall feast upon the flesh of eel upon a bed of rice to celebrate our union!”

Raven offers him a wary smile. “Er...sure.”

"Ah-CHOO!”

“Ne, ne, Jaaade, do you have a cold or somethin’?”

“...No, not at all. I just felt something rather unpleasant just now--like something akin to a pest crawling on my skin.”

“Ehhhh? Where’s that pest, huh? Do you want me to beat it bloody for ya?”

“It is simply a feeling--a metaphor, Floyd. I am certain it is nothing, fufu.”

“Awww, I wanted to punch something.”

“Focus on serving fruit punch, if you must fixate on any kind of punch at all.”

“Boooo~ Fruit punch is lame!”

“You two, less chatting and more working!”

“As you wish.”

“Fiiine.”

[pagingevilspawn]

Patiently waiting for the next lyialg update ! I’m obsessed so yeah thank u for that !!

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter six

i really need to get back to writing this fic, but my inspiration  atm at zero. (i blame proofs, they’ve corrupted all my brain cells)

are we surprised, another filler! what? but, did i write... conversation? wowzies. its just a day full of surprises ain’t it? okay, hope you guys like it! read on ao3 here!

~*~

"i've spent all of the love i've saved. we were always a losing game."

~*~

she probably should've left after their rendezvous in the comforters, but she didn't. instead, she lay on the wide open bed sprawled out over the covers, dressed and ready for the day as she asks him random questions just to annoy him, which she knows he secretly enjoys. (the tiny smiles he would let sneak past his lips didn't go unnoticed by her. he was quite horrible at trying to convince her that he didn't enjoy it.)

"why can't chickens fly?" she asks thoughtfully, pursing her lips, making him stop in his tracks as he puts his toiletries in his suitcase. that was definitely the weirdest question she had asked yet. and trust him, she'd asked a lot of them.

"umm, because they're too fat? i don't know." he answers with a shrug of his shoulders. he didn't know why the hell chickens didn't fly. all he knew was that their wings were useless.

jo looks unamused with his answer as a frown begins to form in her face. "but why? the universe gave them wings, so why not the opportunity to actually use them?"

alex thinks over the answer for a second, shrugging his shoulder as he puts more things in his bag. "dude, i don't know. you're the one in med school. go ask a teacher. or google. google has the answer to everything."

she furrows her eyebrows, reaching behind her to grab a pillow, which she successfully tosses and it hits his face. she lets out a loud laugh as the pillow makes a thump! sound as it hits the floor, alex sending her a glare she had gotten to know all too well these past few days. "you act like i'm in high school." she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning as she narrows her eyes at him.

"i would hope you're not. otherwise i'd get arrested." he says gruffly, finding a loner sock in the bathroom and tossing it into his suitcase aimlessly, nearly missing the destination point as it hangs over the side of it loosely.

"asshole. i'm twenty-three." she bites back.  

"exactly." he says. "you're a fetus. you're a young, tiny, innocent fetus." he pauses for a second, "well, maybe not exactly the innocent part." he grins coyly, earning another pillow to the face.

she scowls at him playfully, a small smile gracing her lips. "shut up. and you do realize you're not much older than me right?" she flops back against the pillows, liking the poof! sound it made whenever she hit the confronter beneath her. it was settling, so much so that she did it again and again. sitting up and them flopping down. sit up, flop down. sit up, flop down. to say it annoyed him would be an understatement.

for someone who wasn't a high school student she sure as hell acted like one sometimes. 

most of the time.

all the damn time.

"still. you are in school. ask a teacher, they probably know. or ask google, like i said. they seem to have the answer to everything."

jo blatantly ignores his answer, lost in her own world as she begins to ramble on, a trait he found out she did often. on most people he would find it annoying, but for some reason it suited her. "but it's so cruel." she pouts, narrowing her eyes and glaring at the blank TV screen. "i mean, they have all these bird friends and they see them fly in the sky, and all they wanna do is fly too but they can't because the universe gave them crappy wings that can't hold them up. it's crappy. the situation's crappy. chicken's deserve better." she says in one breath, sinking into the pillows behind her once she was done.

he looks at her for second before bursting into loud laughter. she seemed to have that effect on him, making him laugh at the most unconventional of times. "you think chickens deserve better?" he asks incredulously after he calms down from his laughing fit, a wide grin on his face as he looks at her.

jo blushes and looks away, feeling the heat rise from her cleavage to her face. she truly didn't know where the hell that rant came. she purses her lips and crosses her arms over her chest. "y-yes." she stutters out, trying not to launch into another long monologue. she could go on for days about how the poor, innocent, annoying cluckers got delt crappy cards.  

"oh, i get it." he says, suddenly laying down on the empty spot next to her. "the chicken is you, and the wings are mothers. you're wondering why all the other people -birds- have wings -mothers- but you don't."

she stares at him, mouth agape. was that what she was thinking? she'd never put that together before. was she doing it without even realizing it? "n-no." she stutters out lamely. that would be crazy right? comparing a bird and wings to herself. that's just.. sad. not to mention pathetic. who the hell compares themselves to flightless birds? pathetic people, that's who. she wasn't a chicken, she was a... a fucking unicorn!

"please. i'm the king of euphemisms." he smirks, tossing a shirt into his suitcase as he stands form his position. he looks up to meet her eyes, which were wide. "you didn't know." he states, jo nodding in response.

he shrugs nonchalantly, "well, congrats on knowing it earlier than me. i didn't figure out the weird shit i said was just me reflecting on myself until last year." he gives a half hearted attempt at a grin. it was true. it wasn't until a patient pointing it out actually (who he thought was kind of crazy), so he supposed he couldn't give himself much credit.  

jo pinches her eyebrows together, biting her bottom lip in concentration. "i just compared myself to a chicken." she says abruptly, making him let out a snort.

"that you did."

she suddenly stands up from her spot on the bed, hands flying around like a mad woman. "who the fuck compares themselves to a chicken!" she shrieks, sounding so serious alex was trying not to burst into a laugh right then and there.

"you." he deadpans, unable to stop the wide smirk that spread across his sharp features. she was too easy to mess with sometimes.  

she throws him a sharp glare, taking off her flat from her foot and hitting him right in the chest, picking it up and slipping it back on after. he winces as he rubs the spot, making sure no shoe prints got marked on him. he wouldn't know how the hell he would explain that to robbins. i mean, 'oh no, i'm fine, just got trampled by a single shoe' was a bit of a hard thing to believe.

"no, but... that's just weird." she says, crossing her arms over her chest once more as she looks out the window, taking notice of the light bits of snow falling from the sky. she didn't know why she expected otherwise. it was november after all. she'd practically grown up in boston, she knew the reasons like the back of her hand.

he nods. "it is."

jo watches as the snow falls. it was so pure. she used to consider herself pure. well, not really. she lived in her car and had gotten kicked out of so many foster homes she lost count. but she did always think she still had that shred of innocence left in her, the girl who looked for the good in everything, despite her normally pessimistic thoughts. now, now that little bit of purity was shattered.

she cheated on her husband.

and the worst part? she enjoyed it. not the fact that she was cheating, god no. the guilt was all consuming, a torturous monster that she truly just wanted to stab to death with a sword as she watched it bleed out. no, she felt guilty at the fact that she couldn't get enough of the sex.

no man had ever made her feel the way alex karev had in the past three days. never in her life. she'd had random hookups that she met at bars who were quite good, and not to mention her husband, who she would used to compare to god in bed. but now... now she wasn't so sure.

it was like he knew her. it was like... he knew exactly what to do to push her over the edge, something she had never experienced before. god, she felt so dirty. she wanted to just hop in the shower and scrub every reminder of alex off her, but at the same time she just wanted to do him in the shower.

shaking away her thoughts, she looks back at him, noting how he also seemed to be lost in his mind as well, staring at the snow.

he notices her eyes on him, so he just lets his mouth tumble out the words flying through his brain. he didn't feel the need to hold back around jo, something he didn't know he was missing until she came into the picture.

"it doesn't snow very often in seattle." he says, watching as the white flakes trickle down to the sidewalk, some sticking to the window as they let the wind move them in whatever direction it pleases.

"we get a lot of rain, but not a lot of snow. to be honest, it snowed more in iowa." she nods at his words. she'd known snow all her life. she grew up on the east coast and never left. she liked the white fluffiness that would make tiny piles outside her bay window in the study, something she had since she moved in with paul.

she grimaces slightly, "do you ever get annoyed with the rain?" she asks softly.

alex nods furiously, a silent chuckle escaping his lips. "all the damn time." he whispers, taking a seat on one of the chairs the room housed.

"then why'd you move there?" she asks curiously. surely he knew how much it rained in seattle. practically babies did.  

"i got accepted to seattle grace. no way in hell would i give up a chance to train at one of the best hospital's in the world because of the weather."

she nods, settling into a comfortable silence with him as they focus on the snow. that was something they both enjoyed about each other. there was no pressure to fill the noise. they could sit in silence and be okay with it.

the snow falling was like them, having to leave this hotel room. here, they were able to attack each other's lips with all they had in them, no matter how wrong it was. the snow hitting the ground was like them needing to leave the four walls. it was them having to face and come to terms with their actions.

so for the moment they sat silently, just trying to savor the last few moments before their life would probably turn to shit.

they weren't telling anybody, god no. but the overhanging cloud of guilt and shame above their head's already made it a little bit harder to carry on.

some say the guilt is the ultimate punishment, worse than death or anything else.

and at that moment they couldn't agree more.

____

they sit for a while longer, just watching the city of boston get covered in white. it was settling, calming in a way they didn't know they needed.

he would miss talking to her. which was a stupid thing to say. a really stupid thing to say actually. but it was the truth. he had never found himself opening up to someone so easily. for once in his life he wasn't given eyes of pity when someone hears his sob story he called his childhood, instead she just understood. she knew what it was like to grow up with basically nothing and make themselves into something, trying to be better than their parents, even though she never knew her's.

it was refreshing, talking to someone without having to worry abut being judged or labeled as something he used to be. he wasn't a foster kid anymore, nor a little boy who had to take care of his younger siblings from such a young age. he wasn't the twelve year old boy who had to practically raise his little sister. to her, he was just alex. the guy who she cheated on her husband with (he wasn't proud of that part), the guy she talked until three in the morning with. the guy she ate a shit loud of pizza with. he was just a normal guy with a crappy past.

she would miss talking to him too. with alex, talking was so natural. she didn't need to think, she didn't feel the pressure to say the right thing in hopes that she would be seen as more than what she had been told she was all her life.

but she would miss him holding her.

a lot.

when they laid in bed, he would wrap his arms around her and pull her in close. she swore, she had never felt more safe than she did while nestled in his chest as his fingers wove through her hair. it was such an intimate embrace, and they knew they shouldn't be doing it, but hell, they'd crossed the line that first night. why not be a bit more reckless? the only people feeling the pain would be them.  and if a few hours of them taking away each other's pain would mean that there was more added on later, then why the hell not?  

they didn't want to say goodbye. not just because they were screwing each other, but because they had made a friend in one another.

so with that thought, without looking away from the window alex sticks out his palm to the side, not far away from jo, "hand me your phone."

she quirks a quizzical brow at him, "what?" she asks, turning to face towards him from where she was sitting on the miniature table. it was a small little thing, but she petite herself, so the table acted like a stool.  

he simply only raises his eyebrows and she gets what he means. she cracks a small smile, happy that he didn't want their newfound friendship to come to an end either. she learned over the years that losing a relationship was okay, it would take time to heal, but you got over it. a friendship was something you never ultimately forgot about. he and alex weren't by any means in a relationship, but it was safe to say they had become really good friends.  

she walks over to the bedside table, grabbing her phone and unlocking it, a new pang of guilt shooting through her at the sight of her lock screen. it was of her and paul a few months ago, a couple weeks before he proposed. they looked really happy. she was smiling wide and he was pressing a kiss to the side of her cheek. she shakes off the feelings, opening the contact app for him to fill out with his information.

"put your name down as alexandra." she says adamantly, alex glancing up with a look of displeasure.

"what?" last time he checked his full name was alexander, not a chick's name.

"he might get suspicious." she shrugs her shoulders, taking his phone from his hand and filling out the little lines of information.

he rolls his eyes, he thought it was a bit excessive, but he did kinda of get where she was coming from. just alex could be a boy or a girl. "fine, then you have to be joseph." he answers, smirking triumphantly.

she scowls, begrudgingly typing out joseph onto the screen. "you better not fucking call me that asshole." she mutters, earning a light laugh. nobody ever really called him stuff like 'asshole' or 'dickhead' without using it as an insult. it was actually pretty funny when it wasn't being used condescendingly, he learned.  

"as long as you don't call me alexandra we have a deal." he shakes his head. "i already know an alexandra. dated one, but we call her lexie." he mumbles, more to himself than to jo. a small laugh is heard in the room after his words, alex cracking a small, barely there smile. they eventually stand up, knowing that now was the time. if they delayed it any longer than he would miss his flight, and that was one thing he couldn't do, because that would mead to questions from robbins, which would lead to questions from izzie, which would lead to the truth coming out. long story short, he couldn't miss his flight.  

alex and jo stand in front of each other, staring into each other's eyes.

should she kiss him? as a goodbye?

as if he hears her thoughts he's stepping closer to her, raising one hand to her cheek, his eyes looking a bit conflicted as he stares at her. he takes it as a sign that she doesn't pull away and begins to lean in, making her shiver all over as she feels his breath fan her face. their heart rates pick up simultaneously in their chests, a feeling that hadn't faded over the past three days.

after what seems like hours their lips finally connect, taking in their taste for the last time. the fire burns in their stomach's, but this time they put it aside. if they took it any further, they knew that they would end up in the throes of passion once again.

they pull away at the same time, him reaching down to grab the handle of his suitcase as he walks out of the door with her, who only has her small clutch in her hand. he shuts the door behind them, staring at her once more.

"goodbye jo." he says, beginning to turn away.

"goodbye alex."

[radstronaut]

And This is How I See You | Sebastian Aho

this work is inspired by Serendipitous by @lulucanwrite warnings: n/a�� word count: 3490 note: this is a gift for @lulucanwrite​ and basically serves as a prequel/spinoff/inspiration from Serendipitous, which is one of the sweetest stories ever. it reads like an imagine fic, but really it’s a lovely little story about two people who have loved each other forever and who will always love each other, featuring pining, friends to lovers, reconnections after many years apart, some found family feels, and a healthy dose of soft angst. highly recommend because it is extremely good. this is an imagining of the two in her story, the year that the main character leaves for America, and Sebastian knows he has to say goodbye, but doesn’t know how to say “I love you,” or maybe, actually, he does.  (title inspiration from Sarah McLachlan’s Wintersong)

“We still have to get our tree and visit dad,” she says, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I’m just not sure.”

“Please? I want to go throw snowballs at windows. Like when we were little. Come with me, one last time,” Sebastian implores. His face is twisted, trying not to show any of the emotions brewing deep within his belly, trying not to let any of his feelings towards her spill out with every word that tumbles from his lips.

Everything is laced with the knowing that this is their last Christmas together. Even the cups of coffee neatly placed on the table between them suddenly feel less warm. Sebastian can feel the time slipping away from them the longer they both sit there.

She seems to consider the proposition but she is stoic. Sebastian can’t read her. She thins her lips and pulls her cup of coffee to them, drawing in a long sip. Sebastian realizes that he’s holding his breath when she sets her cup down, looks up to the ceiling and back down, then speaks.

“Okay,” she says softly, still wavering and unsure. “But I need to be back in time to pick a tree with my mom.”

He cracks a smile at her agreement, brown eyes lighting up, and continues to push his luck. “What if we pick a tree and bring it for her, what do you think?”

“She will want me home soon,” she sighs, a small frown forming on her lips. “We’re supposed to spend the day together.”

“It’s not even ten,” Sebastian counters. He is determined to suck the marrow out of their last Christmas together and he’s been planning each detail meticulously for a few weeks now. Plus, he may or may not have already run it by her mom, but he wants to keep it a surprise, so he adds, “And I think your mom will be okay with it.”

Her eyes narrow, and she draws the mug of coffee to her lips like a seasoned veteran at only thirteen. God, Sebastian thinks, she has already lived an entire life in her eyes. It’s as if it has taken it all out of her, watching her dad get sicker and sicker, and then… well, yeah. He can’t even imagine that word, it feels too foreign. But he does know that losing her father changed her.

He remembers a time, back when they were younger, that her eyes would sparkle and her laughter would fill the room. Now, her laugh is maybe fewer, further between; she measured and guarded. But those moments where she lets her guard down completely, throwing her head back and laughing, filled his heart with joy. Each time she laughed, his heart felt softer and softer towards the world. It was her laugh. That’s how he knew.

“What do you mean, you think she’ll be okay with it?”

She tosses a lock of brown hair over her shoulders with a free hand, carefully gripping her mug with the other while she does so. Sebastian watches, his lips curling upwards into a telling smile. “Nothing,” he says plainly.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” she lifts a brow. The mug thuds dully against the table of the coffee shop as she sets it down.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” he retorts, a little stupidly, pursing his lips before immediately bursting out laughing, and she laughs, too, unable to control herself. “Okay, okay. She said I could steal you for a while, I asked.”

“Why would you--”

“Ah-ah,” he lifts a finger and waggles it back and forth. “No questions.”

“Wow,” she raises her hands in surrender. “Remember me when you’re famous.”

He grins, but doesn’t grace her with an answer. He stands and takes her now-empty mug to return and tosses her napkins in the trash for her, a silent gesture of both affection and nudging her along. She gathers her things into her little bag: a small notebook and pen, a napkin where she’s jotted something so fast that Sebastian can’t read it, and her wallet, which is navy blue and patterned with fading gold stars.

Christmas music plays softly in the background, a gentle jazzy rendition of Last Christmas, and right before they reach the door, Sebastian stops. The music envelops them, making the air feel warmer, the light in the spacious cafe a little more golden. Sebastian smiles as she looks at him, and she stops, too, and then reaches a hand towards his cheek. His heart flutters. She simply adjusts the scarf pulled around his neck, and reflects his smile. “It’s cold,” she says.

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, as she slides past him and swings the door open. The cold air rushes in, and they step out together, Sebastian right behind her, as she turns around to face him.

“Where are we going?” And then, at the same time he opens his mouth to reply, “Right, you said no questions.”

He grins as he jumps and steps in front of her to lead the way, taking a leisurely pace as they head out into the open air. Flurries of snow float about as they stroll down the street, and a gentle silence falls upon the two of them. It’s always been this way. She and him were comfortable enough that they could sit quietly together for hours, her with a book in her lap and him scribbling his way through his math homework, or the two of them side-by-side, quietly watching TV. It was the sort of friendship where he never felt pressured to have something to say or worry about taking up space, because the way their presence mingled with each other was enough to take up that quiet space.

Before, he didn’t think about it at all. It was just a simple part of who they were together, the same way somebody liked pasta or the color blue. Now, he takes notice, carving out the feelings of every second spent quietly together in his mind. A part of him wonders if he will ever find a friendship like this again.

A part of him also knows that this isn’t friendship, and it hasn’t been for some time. The way they walk together in perfect sync reminds him of it. The comfortable silence whispers to him how much he loves her. His father would say, Son, you’re thirteen. You don’t know anything about love. He’s thirteen, sure, but he has never been more certain about anything in his life.

As they walk, he feels their fingers brush together. Normally he’d let the soft tingle of their bodies touch linger as a memory but today he grabs her gloved hand and holds it in his own, and she doesn’t resist. They settle like that as the snow from days past crunches underneath their feet, leaving their memory behind in a little trail of footprints, two sets right beside each other.

The town, too, is quiet, just like it so often is on the morning of Christmas Eve. Families are scrambling to decorate their trees and prepare meals, but here, the two of them walk quietly side by side through the center of town as if there’s nothing else in the world but them. Sebastian imagines his family hurrying about the house--his mother, especially, he can see her hard at work--and for a second a flash of guilt for not being home comes over him, but it’s gone as soon as he looks over at her, and she smiles back at him. He’ll be home later. It’s fine.

He tries to commit her gentle smile to his memory as he speaks. “If your mom wants, I can come help with the tree.”

“You should be with your family,” she replies so quickly, without even having to think. “Besides, she can handle it.”

“I know you both can handle it,” Sebastian says, “but I want to help, if you need.”

“I think that your own mom would be very upset if you weren’t home to help decorate your own tree. It’s fine, seriously.”

He hums to himself before responding, “All right.” And then, “But if you need anything, you know you can always ask.”

Her smile radiates with the gentle warmth of the hearth on a frozen day, loving and thankful. “Don’t worry. I know.”

He can’t help himself but to reply, “I know you know,” and then let a little laugh out through his nose. “But still.”

She’s quiet now, and so is he, but he remains unworried. They are past where the road is lined with shops and have started to come upon homes with lit windows standing against the dimness of wintry daytime and the steam of heaters or the smoke of fireplaces billowing from their roofs into a cloudy sky. Sebastian stops and turns to face her.

“What?” She asks, raising a brow quizzically.

He lifts a finger to his lips, raises a brow, and then leans down, scooping up a ball of snow in his hands and begins to pack the snow together. She opens her mouth and takes in a breath to say something, but before she can speak he’s packed the snow tightly and wound his arm back. Sebastian leans his whole body into his throw as he lets the snowball go and watches with childish delight as it bursts against one of the lit windows of a house.

“Sebastian!” She cries, but her look of judgement and surprise quickly dissipates into a fit of laughter as Sebastian, unbothered, bends down again and starts to pack another handful together and takes off running.

“Come on!” He yells at her, gesturing with his snowball-filled hand for her to run after her. “You can’t get caught!”

“That,” she huffs as she starts to jog behind him, “is so childish!”

“Don’t be lame,” he says as he turns around and backpedals, a smile splitting open across his face. He whirls around and once again uses the whole of his scrawny, adolescent body weight to chuck the densely-packed snowball at another house window. “Your turn!”

She frowns a little and rolls her eyes, but he knows that deep down it isn’t even a question for her, and he’s right, because she leans over faux-reluctantly and scoops up some of the powder and runs ahead of him, giggling as her gloved hands palm over the snow in her hands. She turns and lifts a leg, aiming for a window. Sebastian’s grin grows even further and then he’s hit square in the chest with her snowball before he can even process that she’s spun around to face him.

“Ha!” she bursts out, cackling, mouth wide with delight.

For a moment, he is completely stunned. Sebastian swears he can feel time stop right in that moment, with a chorus of her laughter mingling with the snow swirling softly in the air. Her mouth is wide open, and she’s grinning, eyes squinty and nose scrunched just a bit. Flakes of snow catch in her dark brown hair, and she clasps her hands gleefully in front of her chest.

He takes it all in, every single detail, because underneath their laughter, underneath the crunching snow and the powder of snow that’s spread across his chest, both of them know that this moment is decidedly a last. Their last Christmas, their last snowball fight, the last chance for him to make this something more.

And then, just like that, he snaps back to reality and is laughing, too, packing his own snowball together before hurling it at her as she dashes away from him and he follows behind. They go at it for a few blocks, gathering snow and making balls and pitching them as hard as they can at each other, until she heads into an open patch of untouched snow and flops herself down into its softness.

He flops down right beside her, breath leaving in tired puffs, the hot breath burning his throat in the cold of December, staring up at the grey-white sky and watching the slightly-darker snow swirl through the air.

“Thank you,” she says after a second, and he turns his head to look over at her. She meets his gaze with a pink-cheeked smile, and continues, “for helping me forget about everything.”

He stares at her, watching her breath leave in puffs of condensation in the air, pink lips parted slightly as her chest rises and falls. A strand of hair lays astray on her forehead, but she’s ignorant to it and to Sebastian it is just another sign of her beauty. She closes her eyes and sighs softly, and she’s so fucking beautiful he can barely breathe, or maybe he just can’t catch his breath because he’s been running, he can’t say. Either way, he lays there for a second, drinking her in, before he speaks. “Of course. Anytime.”

“I just… really appreciate you.”

Each word drips with more meaning than he can fathom into thoughts, much less words. The way her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. The pink of her cold nose. Her fingers laced together, laying across her chest. The way the sky is so pale and pastel and how the snow falls and the town is so quiet that they can hear the strange crystal drizzle as it lands on different surfaces.

Sebastian can feel the words he wants to say to her forming on his lips, and he draws in a breath to say them. Time slows down around them until it’s just the two of them, laying there in the snow. Nothing else but them. God, he knows this is his chance to say it. He meets her eyes and she smiles a smile so familiar to him that it has come to feel like home, and he feels those words on his tongue and on his lips, wanting to fall out.

He swallows. Takes in a breath. Then thins his lips, and smiles back at her. The air is thick with expectation, with the words he can think over and over in his head but just can’t bring himself to say.

“What?” she asks, a sparkle in her eyes. “You looked like you were about to say something.”

“Nothing,” he answers, breathy and hopeless. “I appreciate you, too.”

She responds with a thankful look and turns her head back so she’s staring straight up, watching the snow fall into her face. He does the same. He feels the moment slip away from them and instead of grasping on, he lets it go. Maybe he’s a coward who will never say it, but maybe there’s no point in telling her what they both already know.

They lay there in silence until finally, he stands up, and extends a hand to help her. She grabs on and stands. Her hand lingers. Sebastian doesn’t want to notice this, but his gaze drops to the pink of her lips and just as quickly he has dropped his eyes, he looks back up into her eyes, pulls his hand away, smiles an easy smile, and says, “Let’s get you home.”

She nods and they start off together, footsteps in sync. Sebastian can tell from observing their surroundings that they’re only a block or so from her home where her mother is already cooking a feast and waiting for her.

“This is our last Christmas together,” she says after a moment, her words a coming-to-terms. “It just doesn’t seem real.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m going to miss you so much, I don’t even know what to do.”

“It’s not forever.” But she bites her lower lip, an edge to her voice, because really, who can promise that? And he knows, too, that’s what she’s saying. She spent months saying goodbye to her dad, not knowing which goodbye kiss would be her last, and now Sebastian knows that you can’t ever bet on a goodbye as not the last.

But you also can’t bet any goodbye is the very last, either. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Sebastian grins. “Maybe you’re not hopeful, but I know I’ll find you. Even if it’s years from now, even if it’s when we’re twenty-six. I’ll just show up on your doorstep with a ring.”

She laughs out loud, a glorious, radiant laugh. Her eyes squint a bit and her nose scrunches slightly, and she tilts her head back. “I can’t believe you remember!”

“Of course I remember,” he laughs, “We’re basically betrothed, right?”

“Technically, it’s a marriage pact,” she says, shoving him in the side.

He giggles, playfully stumbling from her less-than-powerful shove. “Whatever you say!”

There is a pause as the laughter fades away. Then, she speaks.

“Promise me you’ll keep in touch?” Her voice is tiny, afraid.

“Okay, first of all, you’re not leaving tomorrow, so don’t be so dramatic,” Sebastian starts. “Second, you know I will. And you know we’ll see each other again. It’s not like you’ll never come back to Finland.”

“Or you can come to New York,” she says, hopeful. “I know we aren’t leaving tomorrow, but I had to say it sometime. I know I’m leaving. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Sebastian stops in his tracks, and turns, stepping in front of her, facing her now. His head tilts slightly to the side, and his dark brown eyes soften in the light of the snow. He takes her hands, squeezing gently, and says, “You can never lose me. I promise.”

Her hands squeeze back, and she lets out a shaky breath. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”

He lingers there for a second, before turning back around to step beside her again. Her house has come into view, with warm lights on in the front room, and he knows she will be home soon. Unspoken words hang heavy on his tongue, but he knows that what he wants to say, he already has said, in an unspoken way.

“Hey, you two!” A voice calls from just ahead of them, and he sees her mom sticking her head out of the door. “You’re back just in time!”

“I told you I’d bring her back,” Sebastian quips as they reach the front of her house.

“And I thank you very much for that,” her mother answers. “Why don’t you come in? I just made a late breakfast.”

“No, thank you. I really have to get home to my family, too.”

“I can’t believe you let me go,” she says to her mom, making a face. “I know how sacred Christmas is to you.”

“That is exactly why I let you go,” her mother answers, then meets Sebastian’s eyes, giving a knowing smile.

“Okay, then,” she replies, then turns around, wraps her arms around him and pulls Sebastian in, hugging him tightly. She rests her chin on his shoulder, and he breathes in her hair and the smell of her and really takes note for the first time that she has a specific scent to her, and that it’s warm and it’s comfortable and it’s good. His hands clutch at the small of her back, and he leans his head slightly against hers.

It’s him who finally breaks their embrace, murmuring a quiet “love you” as he pulls away.

“Did you say something?” She asks as she meets his eyes again.

“Nothing,” he says, his features soft and a little bit sad. “I’ll see you after Christmas, yeah?”

“For sure,” she nods, and then wraps an arm around his side, giving him one last squeeze before stepping up and into the doorway.

He notices now that her mother has made herself busy somewhere else in the house, having disappeared in the last few seconds, and he adds, “And tell your mom it was good to see her, please?”

“Of course.” Then she steps inside, closes the door behind her, and he’s standing there, alone. Just him.

For the first time all day, he realizes how freezing cold it is, and involuntarily rubs at his arms. Despite the fact this isn’t a final goodbye, he can’t help but feel the tug of knowing that there is still something between them, that there is something unfinished, waiting for resolve. Does he regret that? He isn’t sure. What he knows is that walking away feels wrong, and staying put feels weirder. So he gathers himself, and steps to the side of their door, right in front of the window that is illuminated with a golden glow that is a little more light than the winter morning.

Sebastian raps his knuckles on the frame of the window, trying to get both her and her mother’s attention. The two of them turn their heads, and when he sees that both of them are looking at him, he steps backwards. Then, he bends down, picks up a pile of snow in his hands, and throws one final snowball at their window. For good measure.

[glammackay]

Under a Blanket of Blue - 14/03/21

Synopsis: George and Alexa settle in on their first day in Finland. (Warning: a lot of cuteness) @alexadem​

Alexa: Was the idea of catching a flight to go on a spontaneous vacation with a guy she'd just met a bit of a crazy idea? The majority would vote yes, but honestly, this was the sort of stuff Alexa wanted her life to be made up of. She didn't like to waste any time on the couch, twiddling her thumbs and trying to imagine herself having fun when she could just go out and experience it. Besides, there were literally no red flags surrounding George - to the naked eye, he seemed like the most unproblematic person on the face of the planet, and any qualms she /may/ have had about any potential awkwardness diminished the moment she had spotted him at the airport. One of Alexa's most prominent traits was that she was outgoing, and loved meeting new people, so she had absolutely no issue with running towards the man and greeting him in a tight embrace, nor within anything that followed, not even when the taxi driver had turned out of the city centre and led them more out into the sticks, where that dreamy lodge George had booked was situated. In fact, that had only excited her more. The potential this accommodation and this week, as a whole, had, was enough to keep her smiling the entire journey there. "Well...fuck me" Alexa announced, snowflakes dusting her eyelashes as she looked up at the place they'd be calling home for the forseeable. "Shotgun the biggest bedroom". She shot a smirk over to the actor, crunching her way through the snow up the pathway and stomping out her boots once she'd made it undercover. "So, how does this work? Did they tell you they'd left the key somewhere, or something? I mean...this place /definitely/ has enough places to hide something-" no matter which way she looked, Alexa spotted a new thing to excite her - at the moment, it was the sheltered fire pit that she would definitely be insisting they light up one night.

George: This vacation was somewhat out of character for George. He’d spent time in remote locations with people he hardly knew before, but usually it was some kind of bonding experience with co-workers, not somebody he was coming to know as a friend, and especially not somebody so seemingly different to himself. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to it all. Alexa was a lot more outgoing and forthright than he was, but when talking to her they just seemed to get along so well. She seemed to be doing a good job of bringing him out of his shell a little bit, whilst he was allowing her to just feel comfortable being herself around him. This was the recipe for a great friendship and travelling buddy, no matter how little time had passed since first speaking. He’d been trying to keep the details of the place under wraps, just so he could watch her reaction when the lodge came into view. “It’ll do us, huh?” he grinned, knowing full well the place could sleep thrice as many. “Yeah, I think the secret entrance to the crazy sex dungeon is ‘round the back,” he tried to say seriously, but almost immediately began laughing to himself, his cheeks flushing at the mere notion of him saying such a silly thing. He felt comfortable with at least saying these things aloud to Alexa, even if he didn’t commit to the bit. He could never commit to the bit. “No, umm, there’s a key box somewhere...” he started looking around the entrance way, before spotting what he was searching for. “There it is. Then we just enter the code and...” there it was, the keys in his hand. Front door, back door, sauna door, hut door - they were sorted. “Right, let’s get this thing open, because I’m freezing my tits off.”

Alexa: Raising both her eyebrows as she glanced back and forth between George and the lodge that looked like it could host the Weasley family, Alexa scoffed "ch'yeah, I think it'll do us. We're going to be living like kings and queens, MacKay, I'm /so/ glad I left you in charge of the planning". With her breath visible in the brisk air, the actress shifted from foot to fit in a lame bid to keep warm - maybe she hadn't planned her airport outfit as well as she'd thought she had, but the extent of how cold the country was had come as somewhat of a surprise, although, nothing compared to the shock she felt as George cracked a joke that could've come from her very own mouth. "Oh, oh, I get it. Is this where you bring all your girls so you can act up here, and then re-enter Great Britain as a saint again? Solid plan, I'm almost going to be disappointed if there's not a secret sex dungeon now". Of course, any disappointment would quickly be remedied by all the amenities that this place /did/ have, and once George had got the front door open, Alexa couldn't help but dump her suitcase right in the entrance way, like an eager child who just wanted to run around taking full advantage of everything. "Holy shiiiiiit, this place looks like it's fresh off of MTV's Cribs, you did good. I don't even know where to star-" cutting off short as she remembered her plea for the best room, Alexa side eyed George for a moment, wondering if he was on the same wavelength before dashing off upstairs to check out the bedrooms. She didn't even care what the others looked like really, the first one she laid her eyes on was more than cute enough, with it's slanted roof, cosy decor, and best of all - view out the window, where you could see nothing but miles of snow-topped trees and hills.

George: “Oh no... you’re onto me...” George laughed, stepping aside as he let Alexa make her way inside first, before he enthusiastically followed suit. The place looked even nicer than it had in the photos, and in the photos it looked pretty remarkable. It wasn’t huge, but with the big windows looking out onto the nearby frozen lake - at least that’s what it looked like to George - and the open landing on the floor above, it felt spacious enough. Once again, he keenly watched his company as she dashed around the place, very clearly enjoying herself far too much whilst exploring. It was like letting a child loose in a sweet shop, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He was a little slower at settling himself in - he took the time to shuffle their cases so they were out of the way and ready to go to their respective rooms, before making his way into the small kitchen in search of a kettle. Naturally, the most important thing of any holiday rental was whether or not they had a kettle, which thankfully they did. Once he filled it with some water and put it on, he finally went to see where Alexa had ended up. “So... I take it I did good with finding this place, then?” he smiled at her and sat himself down on her now designated bed. “What do you want to do first? Chill out and settle in or go straight for the hot tub? Or something else? I  think we've got another two hours of daylight.”

Alexa: Fingers dragging themselves over countertops as her eyes took in the room, Alexa immediately made her way over to the window where she allowed herself a moment to let it sink in that she was actually here. About to tick off what had been at the top of her bucketlist for as long as she could remember, and she was almost lost in a sentimental moment when George's voice came from behind her. "You did good," she assured him with a soft smile. "I almost can't believe I'm here, especially not so soon, I wasn't sure if you were just making friendly conversation when you said you were interested, so - thank you for coming with me". Plopping herself down on the edge of the bed, Alexa ran her hands over her knees as she weighed up the options. "Well, you know I'm dying to get in that tub, so why don't we grab something to drink, hop on in, then find somewhere to see the lights from when the sun starts going down? Or, if we're feeling too sluggish, we can always save the venturing further afield for tomorrow night, and just stay cosy tonight? I'm honestly good with either".

George: George’s smile spread from ear to ear at Alexa’s reassurance. He had a feeling he’d done a good job with the location, but her confirming it made him feel even more confident of it. “Hey, now, thank you for coming with me! You know... to my secret sex hideout, that I definitely bring all the ladies I’ve known for two weeks to...” he let out a laugh at his own joke again, this time not blushing quite so much. It seemed he was becoming even more comfortable with his jokes to her. “Yeah, I mean, we’ll probably get a good glimpse of the lights just from here, with the views we’ve got, especially with those big windows downstairs, so maybe we can enjoy them from there with some blankets and music,” he mused, throwing out whatever ideas he thought might sound inviting to his travel companion. He jumped to his feet and made his way to the door, before turning on his heels and pointing his fingers in her direction. “So hot tub first... and we’ll feel our way from there. I just put the kettle on, would you like a hot drink? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? The owners seem to have stocked all the vitals.”

Alexa: Hair falling across her face as she shook her head with a laugh, Alexa swayed into George, enjoying the fact he was becoming more comfortable with making jokes of the sort. "At least now I know why you really don't have social media, it's a John Tucker Must Die situation, you don't want all your conquests tagging you and being able to find each other". The thought of being able to see the lights from just outside the lodge hadn't even occurred to her, she had assumed there were certain spots that you'd be able to see them from the best, but then she supposed that had been extremely naive - they were in the sky, after all. "At the fire pit?" She suggested hopefully, eyebrows raising. "Sounds perfect to me. And you know, considering we're being all adventurous - I think I'll go for a tea. I've honestly never had one that isn't iced, and I trust you're well trained in the art of tea making. I'll have it however you have it". Following George back downstairs, Alexa practically skipped towards her case to retrieve her bikini - a white, Louis Vuitton one, of course. Admittedly, she was a bit of a brand whore - before taking it into the nearest bathroom and changing into it. She re-emerged a few moments later wrapped in one of the robes that were provided and leant on the kitchen countertop, face in her hands. "Just came to see the master at work. This better be the best damn hot bev that I've ever tasted or I'll severely judge you brits and your obsession".

George: “Tea it is, then,” George nodded his head in agreement, pleased Alexa had made the right choice to him. “And the fire pit, we can definitely check out in a bit. I think it’s called a Lapplander hut or something like that? Don’t quote me on it, though. But it looks really cool,” he spoke, almost to himself as they both went downstairs, and then their separate ways to prepare themselves. He managed to find all the right ingredients for a basic, good cup of tea, and poured them all in to some snow themed mugs for them. He’d just finished removing the tea bags before Alexa joined him once more. He placed her mug in front of her, before looking up and smiling. “Give it a minute to cool down, or you’ll burn your tongue,” he said, before realising that it sounded like he was talking to a child. “Sorry, I suppose that’s common sense. But I’ve lost count the amount of times I’ve burnt my tongue because I’ve been too keen to have a sip.” He lifted his own drink up to his mouth and blew on it, before setting it down on the counter again. “Maybe I should quickly get changed into my trunks whilst I wait for it to cool down. I’ll be back in a minute,” and with that, he left to fetch his swimwear from his suitcase and get changed in the bathroom. He soon emerged sporting a clearly well worn pair of rainforest themed swim shorts - about the craziest his wardrobe got - and his respective robe, undone.

Alexa: "Nope, no, I needed that. I always dive into everything too soon, so your caution: hot bev warning was /very/ needed" Alexa smiled, drawing the mug closer to her yet behaving by not taking a sip. She was softly blowing on it when her eyes averted from the steam onto George's reappearance - noticing the body first, then the iconic shorts afterwards. Honestly, it was hard to pick which one to comment on first, though the fact he had tried to deny the existence of his abs was too impossible to ignore. "Ah, and there it is, that so-called dad bod that you seem to think you have. D'you know how frustrating it is for hot people to not think they're hot when everyone else around them can see it as clear as day?" Realising she had to have been staring, Alexa turned her attention back to the tea and finally had her first sip, though she had to admit she wasn't fully concentrating on the taste. "Sorry. Don't mean to check you out but...I totally do".

George: George went bright red at Alexa essentially calling him hot and commenting on his abs. Not that he minded, of course, but the blushing was instinctual whenever anybody complimented him in such a way - it was as subconscious to him as breathing. He wasn’t sure whether to cover up or let her keep looking, because he couldn’t help enjoying the attention. He opted to leave his robe open, and grabbed his cup of tea, which was now at the perfect drinking temperature, and took a sip. “It’s okay. You’d think I’d be used to it, with having to be on film sets where I’m walking around with people looking at me shirtless all day, but nope. It still bewilders me,” he shrugged, before smiling at her. “I’ll try not to stare as much when you disrobe,” he teased, winking at her. Once again, the confidence to say such a thing was only because of the company he was in - he was just letting whatever he thought she’d enjoy hearing flow out of his mouth, without a second thought.

Alexa: The blushing definitely didn't pass by unnoticed by Alexa,  it took everything in her not to tease him for it, and she was doing so well until he so confidently commented about her losing her robe, even with the wink, it was all too much to be able to resist. "Oh, is that so?" She set down her mug once more, fingers going to the knot on the robe to slowly untie it, eyes focused on George in a bid to catch him falter. "Do you promise? I'm actually real shy"- probably the biggest lie she'd ever told, one quick Google search and you could see she had absolutely no issue getting her body out, it wasn't arrogance, just a strong belief that you should love the body you were given, and shouldn't have to hide it. Letting the robe fall from her shoulders, Alexa knew damn well she'd just sacrificed a warm walk to the hot tub, but whatever, it was worth it. "Come on then" she spoke in an overly sweet tone, grabbing her tea with one hand, and his own hand in the other to lead him outside.

George: Not quite believing how he’d managed to get himself into such a situation, George was biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to stop himself from smiling like an idiot, but it definitely wasn’t working. “You’re mad, you are,” he said, shaking his head as Alexa disrobed in front of him, his cheeks managing to redden even more than he thought possible. He wanted to be overly polite and not look, but he knew she wanted him to, so he glanced her up and down; his gaze lingered a little too long, until it was interrupted by her taking a hold of his hand. He snapped out of it, and instead tried focusing on just walking to the door that led out to the hot tub. Opening the door, they were hit by the bracing cold of the outdoors - a stark reminder that they were very close to the Arctic Circle, and the sun was setting soon. “Quick, get in, I’ll figure out all the buttons,” he said, offering his hand up to help her balance as she climbed in. Thankfully, it wasn’t complicated, so within seconds, the tub started bubbling.

Alexa: More than satisfied with the reaction she had got, Alexa was glad she was the one walking in front so George couldn't see the smile on her face...that was until the door actually opened, and she was immediately hit with the cold air like someone had bitch slapped her. Assuming George knew what he was talking about - he had one of those faces you could just trust - Alexa set her drink down in one of the holders and hopped into the tub with his help, which was admittedly warmer than the outside air, yet not at it's full potential, like it had been on some power saving mode. "This is fucking cold too, you...shithead!" She exclaimed with a laugh, splashing a little out the tub at him, figuring they probably should've turned it on fully a little before they intended to get in it. "But it's better than out there, for sure. It's gonna be /so/ nice". Submerging herself to the shoulders, Alexa used her arms to push herself backwards onto one of the corner seats and kicked up her feet a little, probably enjoying the novelty of a hot tub a little too much considering they were hardly needed in LA.

George: George grimaced at Alexa mentioning the tub was still cold. “Ah, yeah, shit. We were just a bit too keen, huh?” he spoke, taking a big swig of his tea, before placing his mug by the side of the hot tub. He watched her enjoying herself for a moment, a huge grin on his face as he did so. “You having fun in there?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her, her answer very much evident without a word leaving her lips. After a few more moments, he figured it was time he joined in on the fun. He took off his robe, hanging it up nearby, and turned to face Alexa. “Fuck, it is a bit nippy out here, isn’t it?” he said, exaggerating the temperature even more by tensing all his muscles - the toning of them becoming even more apparent than before. And then he climbed into the hot tub, sitting opposite his company, so they both had a bit of space. “Oh, this is alright actually. It’s not putting the hot in hot tub, but it should warm up pretty quickly.”

Alexa: Unaware that her enjoyment was so apparent, Alexa grinned with a nod, feeling like a little child who'd just come on their first summer vacation away from school. Having never heard the term 'nippy' before, the actress immediately cast a glance down to her chest, figuring he must've meant she was showing actual nip, rather than referring to the cold, yet once she figured out he was just being British, she let out a laugh. "Fuck, you can't say things like that without giving me a quick Urban Dictionary style definition, that means something completely different where I come from..." Still, she hoped that wouldn't make him intentionally try to dial the slang or the accent down. That, mixed with the way he looked right now made her certain that George was the kind of guy who would get plenty of female attention without even realising it. One of the most eligible bachelors in any room, yet still one of the most modest. "Here - we should play a game. Like, a would you rather: culture edition. So like, you can say two of anything, one has to be American, one has to be English...whether it's food, movies, actors - whatever. And then you have to pick which one you'd rather eat, watch, sleep with - you know? Like, I could start with...Hugh Grant or George Clooney?".

George: “Oh, shit, sorry,” George shook his head, forgetting he was talking to an American who wouldn’t understand all his British colloquialisms, but he didn’t mind explaining them as he went. “It just means really cold - originates from... well, you can probably guess,” he trailed off, figuring he didn’t need to go into the etymology, too. He listened intently to Alexa as she described the game she wanted them to play. He rather liked the sound of it - their cultural differences had already been apparent the short time they had spent with one another so far, so why not combine it into a fun way to learn more about each other? “Ooh, I like this. Hmm, which would I rather eat... Hugh or George...” he pretended to look like he was thinking carefully, before laughing at his terrible joke. “Okay, I don’t know if it’s a terrible reason to discount somebody or not, but I don’t know if I could cosy up to George because we share the same name. That would just feel weird. Would you find that weird? It’d be like when Taylor Swift dated Taylor Lautner. Each to their own, but I couldn’t do that. So Hugh it is. He seems like a good laugh, anyway. What about you?”

Alexa: Well, at least she was on the right brainwave with thinking it had /something/ to do with nipples, maybe she wasn't being quite so stupid after all, though she wished she could rewind the clock a little and not check out her own tits. Thankfully, the water was already beginning to heat up a little more, and though her arms were still adorned with goosebumps, it was becoming more tolerable. "You are a literal dork" She should've known he'd have some smartass answer to her suggestion, though once he actually answered it properly, she nodded her head. "Good choice, good choice. I totally get what you mean, I even find it weird having to talk to my Amazon Alexa, like I'm going around the house talking in first person, makes me feel a little crazy". Reaching for her tea once more as she thought to herself, Alexa figured she should at least /pretend/ the question was difficult for her, when in reality Hugh Grant easily won for the accent alone. "I think I'd go for Hugh, too. I've had a thing for him since he played the prime minister in that christmas movie - which...I can totally imagine you in, by the way. I feel like you'd be that guy that goes to America because he can't pick up girls in England. In...the best way possible".

George: “If I ever need to ask you a question randomly now, I’m going to open with ‘hey Alexa’ and see how long it takes for you to get mad at me,” George teased, knowing full well he probably would do it once or twice at most. He fetched his mug and sat sipping at it as he listened to Alexa explaining the reason behind her choice, which he could definitely understand. “Yeah? You think I’m a Colin Frissell?” he asked, playfully raising an eyebrow at her. “I mean... when I’m in the States, I do find that people are fascinated by my accent and the way I pronounce certain words. I’m yet to have been invited back to an attractive stranger's place to stay the night, though. Well... no, that’s not wholly true. I’ve had a couple of propositions but not gone along with it, because it didn’t feel right,” he found himself rambling on, so he stopped himself with another sip of his tea, before placing it back where it was. He stretched his arms up, and shimmied his way further into the gently bubbling water, as he attempted to come up with his own ‘would you rather’ question.

Alexa: "I'm already mad at you for even thinking about it", Alexa teased setting the tea down once more and making herself more comfy in the water that was now hot enough to warm her completely. She didn't want to even think about having to get out anytime soon, especially not thanks to her need to tease and leave the robe discarded on the living room floor. Present her /hated/ past her. "Maybe a little, but as I've said, a much cuter version - which was why I was about to call you out on that bullshit. I don't believe for a second you haven't been hit on in bars, or anything like that. American girls can be...well, we're a lot. And I gotta say, I'm impressed you haven't just gone along with it for easy sex. I don't think I've ever really met a man who wouldn't when someone was offering it to them like that. Remind me again, who manufactured you?"

George: “It was Bill Gates himself,” George joked, trying to play it cool, despite his cheeks reddening - at this point he was surprised they weren’t just bright red the whole time. “I don’t know, it just feels too weird for me. I prefer getting to know somebody before we’re intimate. Like, I’ll make out with a stranger, sure, but sex is different. For me, at least,” he shrugged, realising his way of thinking probably wasn’t something Alexa was used to hearing. “It’s different for everybody, though, right? We all have certain things that we find difficult to share with someone until we know them better, and that’s just what it is for me,” he shuffled slightly in his seat, perhaps for the first time actually feeling slightly uncomfortable around Alexa, if only because he wasn’t used to opening up about such personal things so quickly, even if he was still doing it willingly.

Alexa: For probably the first time in her life, Alexa wasn't quite so quick to share her own views on sex as she knew all too well it was off putting for some guys. Usually, she'd be defensive about it, but there was no need to be, it wasn't as if George was judging her for having an opinion that was different to his, he was just sharing his own. Biting down on her lip as she nod her head to his 'different for everybody' statement, 'you can say that again' she thought to herself, though she wasn't about to make herself come across as some kind of harlot - despite it being true. "No, that makes total sense, I totally get why you'd prefer to refrain from it. Casual sex isn't all that great anyway in the grand scheme of things, 9 out of 10 times the guy won't be able to make you cu-" once again catching herself before getting too NSFW, Alexa turned her open mouth into a sheepish smile. "Sorry. We don't need to talk about orgasms, I guess that's just where my mind tends to wander when I'm still waiting for /someoneee/ to come up with a 'Would You Rather' question".

George: “Really?” George asked, a little surprised by Alexa's statistic. He knew that a lot of guys could be selfish in that respect, but not to that extent. He smiled a little at her attempting to censor herself, perhaps in order to make him feel more comfortable. He appreciated it, but he also didn’t want such a conversation to be completely off limits. “I don’t understand it when blokes don’t make an effort, in that department. Like, not even tried to figure out what their partner wants. I’ve always been the sort to ask a woman what they like and don’t like, sort of, as we go. I mean... god, this is gonna make me sound like a square to you, probably, but I usually ask a person if it’s okay to even kiss them, instead of just leaning in and hoping for the best. Well... I try to, and then I get kissed before I have the chance to ask,” he continued on the topic, even though she’d tried to brush it off slightly. He wasn’t necessarily avoiding coming up with a would you rather question for her, more that he was continuing to delay it whilst he thought of something good. And anyway, this conversation felt more interesting to him, for the time being.

Alexa: "Well Georgie, that just means that you have what most men lack...communicational skills. I don't think I've actually slept with a single man whose asked me what I've wanted. Most of them just kinda...grunt like cavemen and it's all pretty underwhelming. And I -" Okay, she was prepared for everything he had said thus far, but the fact he asked permission before kissing took her a few moments to wrap her head around, and she hoped he wouldn't take her silence as a bad sign, like she was inwardly mocking him or anything like that. The complete opposite, actually, she was more so wondering how it'd taken her 30 years of life to come across a man who asked for consent to kiss. Realising she hadn't said anything for a while, Alexa voiced the main thing that was swirling around in her mind, even though, for once she didn't feel like being outspoken, it was as if she couldn't help herself. "Well, just so you know, for...future reference or whatever, you wouldn't need to ask me. The answer's already yes".

George: George noticed the silence, but he had somewhat anticipated it. Whenever he told people this small detail about him, it seemed to take them by surprise. He took it as a good sign, more than anything else. He simply watched Alexa patiently, awaiting whatever response she may have. He expected a question or two maybe, or even just a comment about how rare it was. So her response managed to have the same effect and take him by surprise. He hadn’t been able to gauge how she felt about him, up until now. Sure, she’d complimented his appearance, but he didn’t know whether to take that as her genuinely being attracted to him, or simply a superficial thing. Not that he minded either way, but the truth was that he had had the thought of kissing her cross his mind... if only to be locked behind a door in his head for a later date, so he could just focus on getting to know her for the time being, and seeing what happens. “That’s... good to know. I’ll keep it in mind,” he said leaning in a little closer to her, as if to tease her that it had already very much been on his mind.

Alexa: Maybe, just maybe, throwing that into the mix already was a bad idea, but Alexa didn't know how to act if it wasn't bold and brazen, and it didn't seem to have put him off completely, so she allowed herself a breath, smiling at his response. "Just thought I'd save you some breath, you know, incase you were thinking about it". Of course, there was a very good chance that George continued to surprise her by being one of the only guys not interested - and that wasn't even being narcissistic, just that most guys were easy, and that meant a statement like that was actually usually followed by a kiss, so she was at a loss for words or any idea how to follow something like that up now. This never happened, the whole second guessing/feeling somewhat shy, and boy did she hate that it was happening now. For once, maybe she was the one blushing rather than George. Or maybe it was the heat from the steam. That had to have been it.

George: George continued with keeping his gaze on Alexa - he couldn’t help noticing a slight change in her demeanour. He was a little taken aback by it, as she probably was, too. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of what he had said or not, but he didn’t want to say anything about it. He’d hoped by now he had created a comfortable enough environment for her that she would tell him if she was bothered by anything he was saying or doing. When he finally looked away, and began glancing at their surroundings for the first time in what felt like a good few minutes, he realised that the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky. “Right now I’m thinking if we wanna see the lights tonight, we’d better start getting ourselves ready soon. Well, we don’t have to, because they should be at their brightest in a couple of hours, but I figured we could sort out some food beforehand so we can just sit and watch them for as long as we like after. How’s that sound?” he asked, his thought process managing to go past the realisation that he’d completely changed the topic of conversation without intending to.

Alexa: Alexa wasn't sure if the shift in her body was solely due to the hot tub or if her body temperature would've just knocked itself up a few notches regardless, but once George had broken the tension with reminding her what it was they were actually here for, it dawned on the actress that she clearly /was/ feeling some type of way about him. Not even in any deep way, it was far too soon for that, but maybe the attraction did hit a little closer to home than she previously thought. It wasn't so much, yeah people would find him attractive and much more of a...'/you/ are attracted to him, Alexa'. "Right, yeah, we should...definitely do that". Honestly, she couldn't get out of the tub quick enough now, eager to forget her entire thought process and focus on something else. Standing up, the drastic temperature change washed over her once more, so she wasted no time in heading back into the lodge. "Do you think we have time to go to a supermarket to get some ingredients, or are you thinking take out?"

George: George nodded at Alexa’s motion to start getting themselves ready. She seemed a little quick to get out of the water, but before she had a chance to get far, he, too, had gotten out and grabbed his robe that was hanging up nearby. “Here, take this,” he offered, placing the robe over her shoulders, figuring that would take the edge off until she got to her room and could warm up properly. “Well, actually, not to blow your freaking mind or anything, but I asked the owners if they could go to the shop to get a few things and drop them off before we arrived, so they’re already in the kitchen. At least to tick us over til tomorrow when we can make our own way out there,” he smiled at her once they had stepped inside. He tried to be cool but was noticeably tense from his body being exposed to the cold for even a brief time. “How about we get ourselves dried and changed, and have a look through the supplies when we’re warm and cozy?” he raised an expectant eyebrow at her, before walking over to grab his suitcase, ready to make his way to his bedroom.

Alexa: Clutching his robe around her, Alexa shot George an astounded look - not only was that a chivalrous act that she hadn't expected, but it seemed he had thought of everything while planning the entire thing. "Nope, consider my mind blown. That's some forward thinking brain you've got yourself there", embarrassingly enough, had it been the other way round and Alexa in charge of the organising, they definitely would've been raiding the cupboards to see if they could make a meal out of hot chocolate powder and eggs for the night. "Sure, you go hurry, you must be fucking freezing" she encouraged, retrieving her own case and taking it to the room where layers were the only thing on her mind. It didn't matter what the hell she looked like, as long as she could stay outside for as long as possible tonight, so once she'd taken her bikini off and dried herself she pulled on a matching set of loungewear ( with admittedly about three tops underneath ) and a pair of fluffy socks. The ends of her hair were wet, so she pulled it all into a high pony before grabbing a package out of her case and making her way back downstairs, hoping she'd miraculously managed to beat George back, though the odds were against her.

George: George was the kind of person who would practically over plan everything. Most of the time, it was a good thing, and it seemed to be for him so far on this trip, but he always had to remind himself to allow some freedom and leeway with his plans, especially if they included others. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom that was nice and warm, and began drying himself down with it, as he wandered into the downstairs bedroom, claiming it as his own. He made sure his top half was bone dry before he took his trunks off, and wrapped the towel around his waist whilst he hung up the trunks and began rummaging through his case for something warm and comfortable for him to wear for the evening. He settled on a pair of black sweatpants, a burnt orange jumper, and a t-shirt underneath, with socks that happened to match his jumper. He looked like he was about ready to join the Weasleys for Christmas, but he didn’t mind because he knew it’d do the job. Once he’d hung up his towel to dry, too, he ventured back to the open living space, surprisingly only beating Alexa to it by several seconds. “We meet again,” he teased, beaming at her, before making his way to the kitchen to see what they could start preparing for dinner.

Alexa: "Fuck me, hello to you too, Ron Weasley" Alexa teased, clearly on the same wavelength as it was undeniable that his sweater looked like it had been knitted especially for him. Following him through to the kitchen, before she'd even have a chance at checking out what he had ordered in, the actress placed the package down on the counter, beaming proudly up at George. "You didn't think I'd forget what yesterday was, did you?". Considering she hadn't known George for too long to know roughly what he already owned and what he didn't, she figured she'd make up a care package that would come in handy for the right now. A selection of ales as he'd said he liked them, a glass tankard with his full name engraved on it, ingredients for smores, a meditation set with candles and the likes in, and best of all - a game of twerk pong, which she figured would really help him finesse his twerking skills. "You don't have to open it right now, we can wait until whenever, but just so you know it's here, and that I didn't forget. So...happy birthday for yesterday".

George: George let out a small laugh at Alexa calling him a Weasley. “You read my mind,” he shook his head, almost in disbelief she was thinking the same thing about the jumper. He was even more in disbelief when she presented him with what he inferred was a gift. He figured she would remember it had been his birthday, but he wasn’t expecting more than maybe a card or one small gift, not a whole array of things. He bit his lip, trying to contain his huge smile, and managing to fail horribly once again. “Thank you so much,” he uttered, still trying to catch his breath from the shock. Before he could think of anything else to say, he practically blurted out “can I give you a hug?” Almost immediately, he realised asking permission was probably silly, since a few minutes ago she had said she would say yes to him asking to kiss her, and a hug was a few steps of intimacy down from that, so the answer would likely be yes, too. He didn’t give her much of a chance to reply, before he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re so sweet.”

Alexa: Alexa was glad that George left hardly anytime between asking and doing, as she couldn't help breaking out into a giggle, though he could probably /feel/ it regardless. "You really are something else, MacKay". Very quickly the giggle subsided into a satisfied smile, her cheek pressed into his chest thanks to the very present height difference. "You don't need to thank me, of course I was going to get you something. I wasn't just expecting you to put in all the hard work of the planning and then /not/ get you a birthday present". She pointed out, pulling back and glancing up at him with a playful eyebrow raised. "And don't tell anyone else I'm gross and capable of sweet things, okay? I got a rep to protect".

George: George’s smile kept growing when he felt the warmth of Alexa pressing against him. Noted, he thought, for if they found themselves having to keep extra warm whenever they ventured outside during the trip. He nodded acceptingly as she told him it was a fair bargain between them - him sorting out the vacation, and him getting a gift; he certainly couldn’t argue with it. “Well there goes my plans of telling everybody on social media,” he joked, the chance of which was extremely unlikely, since he didn’t use it at all. “If anybody asks about this trip, I’ll tell everyone you ignored me most of the time, I couldn’t even sit near you or been in the hot tub with you. Anything else you want me to mention? Just so I definitely don’t ruin that reputation you’ve got going on?” he asked, a playful eyebrow returned right back to her.

Alexa: Pursing her lips as she pretended to be deep in thought, Alexa wandered around the island in the kitchen, peeking into the cupboards nonchalantly. "Hmm, that you cooked for me every lunchtime and every evening. You don't have to, of course, I don't even know if I trust your cooking yet-" glancing back over her shoulder to convey that she was teasing, she soon resumed the nosing around before hopping up onto the counter herself, completely at a loss for what George had been planning to throw together. "But I want everyone to think you did, like you were catering to my every whim. And I'm a quesadilla at 4am kinda girl if I wake up hungry, too. So it must've been a real nightmare for you. Anyway, what are we whipping up tonight, chef?"

George: “Ugh, you’re just so demanding,” George playfully rolled his eyes, more than happy to go along with this facade, knowing full well that it wouldn’t actually come to life. “I can do that. I can even add that you made me walk to the supermarket in the snow by myself every day so you only had the freshest ingredients,” he nodded along, already enjoying this far too much. “Just tell me if I have to rein it in. Don’t want you looking too bad,” he smiled at Alexa, before beginning to look for the ingredients of the meal he had in mind for the evening. “Okay so... one of the dishes I’m best at is paella. Specifically chicken and chorizo paella. I don’t know if the owners managed to get every ingredient, but as long as we’ve got the basics, we can still make a delicious meal. Wait... did I ask you if you eat meat? I feel like I should’ve asked you that and accounted for it beforehand,” he pouted, suddenly looking a little concerned that he hadn’t taken everything into consideration.

Alexa: Clicking her fingers together, like George had just come up with the greatest plan ever, Alexa nodded. "Yes, that too. I like that. Meanwhile I was in the sauna, just waiting for you to come back from your treacherous journey". It was as if her stomach wanted to give away the fact paella was one of her favorites the way it rumbled in response to George even uttering it's name, but she wasn't going to say it loud, what are the chances he'd believe her rather than just thinking she was saying it to be polite? Besides, with the opportunity to tease him some more presenting itself to her, Alexa feigned an awkward look, shoulders slumping and eyes looking apologetically over at her counterpart. "I...I am a vegetarian, actually. And a celiac so I can't eat gluten. Plus I don't like any vegetables. And I'm allergic to /a lot/ of things, so really all I can eat is...potatoes". Letting that linger for a moment, she soon shook her head, a smile back on her face. "Nah, I'm totally fucking with you. Paella's amazing, and I'm sure yours is going to be one of the best ever". Though she did partake in the making of their dinner, she would give George most of the credit due to it being his version, and although she couldn't wait to dig in, she left it steaming on the side while she ran over to collect their coats, tossing George's over to him before jamming her feet into her boots haphazardly. "Come on, we gotta eat this outside. I've had paella on the beach before, but I've never had paella in the snow under the northern lights before".

George: George nodded his head, making a mental note of all these supposed demands from Alexa - he knew they’d have plenty of fun telling everybody about what happened on their trip and keeping an air of mystery about it. He sort of liked that idea. When she first said she was a vegetarian, George looked a little concerned, like all his meal ideas had flown out of the window very quickly because he’d been inconsiderate enough not to ask beforehand. And then as she continued, he began squinting at her suspiciously, before she admitted she was just messing with him. “Fuck me, you nearly had me for a moment there, I was about to trek out to the supermarket for real to get you something you could eat. So... thank god we’re not making that tale a reality just yet,” he sighed, shaking his head at her, pretending to act annoyed, despite the smile on his face. He was happy to do most of the cooking himself, but the help of Alexa was certainly welcomed - it was the first time in a while he’d prepared a meal with somebody that wasn’t a family member. He seemed a little surprised when she went to fetch their coats, rather than tuck in to their meal, but he picked up on what she wanted to do pretty quickly. “I’ll be honest, I doubt many people have had paella in the snow under the northern lights before - we’re about to be a part of a very exclusive club,” he smirked, before fetching his own boots and putting his coat on, readying himself to brace the cold.

 Alexa: "The mile high club will seem /so/ overrated once we join this one". Alexa stated, matter-of-factly before darting off once more to bundle up an armful of pillows and blankets. "D'you think you can carry both the dishes out for me?" She requested, barely able to keep the top cushion balanced as it wobbled precariously. Still, she managed to transport them all to the hut that provided just enough shelter from the bitter winds, but was completely open at the front so they still had a clear view of the sky. Which, she hadn't even glanced up at yet. She'd purposely kept her face practically buried in the blankets with one eye on the floor as she made her way over. She'd waited so long to see the northern lights in person, she'd be darned if she wasn't going to make it into some big reveal. With her back still to the entrance, Alexa dumped down the load she was carrying and jiggled on the spot excitedly. "Can you see them already?!" She asked George, on the off chance he wasn't doing the exact same thing as her.

George: “From what I hear, the mile high club isn’t even all that exclusive anymore,” George shrugged - despite not being a member of it, he knew plenty of people who were. He never really saw the appeal; he liked to feel comfortable and not like everybody on the plane knew exactly what he was doing, because that sort of thing rarely went unnoticed. “Of course, darling,” he nodded, taking both of their plates and walking carefully behind her to the hut, hoping very much he didn’t ruin such a big moment for her by spilling her paella all over the snow covered ground. Thankfully, he managed to set their plates down on the table in the middle of the hut with every drop still on them, and he looked up to see how Alexa was getting on. He had focused all his concentration on not spilling their food that he hadn’t dared look up at the sky at all, until she mentioned it. “Yeah, look,” he pointed up, “you can see the green just over the top of those trees. They should get brighter and cover more of the sky over the next couple of hours.”

Alexa: Without even realising that she had placed her hands over her eyes, Alexa turned so she was facing the right way, and parted them like a scared teenager watching a horror movie, though the moment she did and caught a glimpse of the green through the trees her arms dropped down to her sides and she did a little bounce of excitement. "Holy shit, that's so cool". Already it was unlike anything she'd ever seen, without it even being at it's full potential yet. Before they let the paella get too cold, Alexa got snuggled up on the wooden seat, holding up a corner of the blanket so George could sit down and she could drape it over their laps. Surprisingly, it didn't feel too cold to sit out in yet, though she knew that would change the longer they remained there without hot food in their belly. Which, her attention turned back to then, and she began to tuck in, giving George verbal affirmations for between the first few bites. "Jesus, that's good, too." and "I need to get you to cook for me more often".

George: George looked down at Alexa just as her eyes laid upon the lights, and the way her face lit up with pure joy made George grin like an idiot, knowing that he had had some part in making this experience happen for her. He had seen the northern lights a few years before, up in the far reaches of Scotland, but he knew they were in for an even more incredible experience tonight. His attention then focused back onto their food. He hadn’t even for most of the day, so by now he was famished. He grabbed his plate, and quickly settled down next to Alexa on the seat, and placed the blanket over his legs, before taking a big bite of food. He let out a small laugh when he heard Alexa’s intermittent comments about his cooking. “Paella is very much my piece de resistance when it comes to cooking. It probably won’t get any better than this,” he said, before taking another mouthful. “Well, no, I have made paella even better than this before, but this is definitely up there with the best I’ve made. Must have been my charming sous chef's help that made it so good.”

Alexa: No matter how charming he was being, Alexa knew nothing she had done in the kitchen had benefitted the taste, having been on mostly chopping duty which really anyone and their ten year old siblings could do, but she knew that was just the sort of person George was - modest and always looking to share the praise, that much was evident already. Soon enough, her plate was cleared, and Alexa set it to the side and brought her knees up, hugging them beneath the blanket while with every passing moment the lights grew brighter above them. If she were honest with herself, it had kind of been the perfect day, and who could've thought up a better ending than to be sat underneath something so epic? Feeling overcome with emotion in that moment - which admittedly, was very unusual for her - the actress let her head fall to the side until it came into contact with George's shoulder, and she smiled to herself as she took it all in. "So, what do you think? Was this worth missing mothers day for, or have you been pining over Mama MacKay's company the whole day?".

George: George was impressed by how quickly Alexa managed to clear her plate - he was a fast eater, but she still managed to beat him to it. Once he was done, he placed his plate above hers and settled back into his seat. He smiled when she decided to rest her head on his shoulder - he’d always seen this as something very intimate only people who felt really comfortable around him did, and considering how long they’d known one another, and this being their first time meeting properly, he felt pretty accomplished that she felt so comfortable so soon. He let out an almost inaudible laugh when she asked her question - somewhat surprised it was something on her mind, because it hadn’t crossed his since they’d arrived at the lodge. “I spoke to her yesterday about it, actually. That I felt a little bad that I’d planned this trip, forgetting I’d be missing Mother’s Day with her. But when I explained where I was going and why, she said that she’d probably have ditched me, too, if it meant seeing the northern lights in Finland. So... that definitely made me feel a lot better,” he smiled, leaning his head down to gently rest upon hers. “She always knows exactly what to say.”