#and i guess i could just about get by rotating the four dresses i own for the whole ten days but i would like some trousers ideally

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

does anyone know any sustainable brands that aren't too expensive that have plus sizes and stock light cotton/linen trousers bc i'm going away in ten days and i need something to wear or i'll melt and the ones i bought are too big and the brand i got them from are sold out now so i can't even get them in a smaller size pleaseeeee help

[sirthisisa-wendys]

One Wall Over: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you’re new in the neighborhood, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a warm welcome from your duplex buddy. 

wc: 3k

tw: nsfw, smut, annoying noises at five am, the works 

a/n: ahhhhhhhhh! I am so excited to be taking part in this collab with @suna-reversed reversed for a super sexy jjk collab! Please check out the masterlist for the collab here and the other authors! SO EXCITED TO READ THE OTHERS! (The other title I had for this work is “First of All, How Dare You” because that’s literally me every time I see my hubby Suguru, but anywho!).

Moving in was a bitch. 

For the first time ever, you have no roommates, no parents, and no pets - just you and your meager belongings moving into the little, two-story duplex a friend allowed you to sublet. As you stare out of the window facing the sparse front lawn, you wonder what your neighbor is like. They hadn’t come to welcome you to the home, but you knew they existed by the sound of the bass through your shared wall at five am every morning. 

You assume they’re male or a couple, but you’ve never gotten a chance to see them with your own two eyes.  So you kept a lookout day after day. At exactly four p.m., you would sit across from the window with a book and keep watch, the sun streaming in and illuminating your figure and crossed legs anchored on the window sill. But day after day, you wouldn’t see anything. The neighbor’s car wouldn’t even move an inch from the previous day. Everything would remain the same until the next day when you took your perch by the window. 

It isn’t until you’re out on your front lawn, slaving over the flowers you maintained for a whole month - a new record - that the sleek Range Rover drives up to the garage on your neighbor’s side of the house. At first, you don’t notice it, your eyes firmly planted on the soil at the root of your orchid tree. But then you hear a car door slam, and you look up, watching for the person who would be exiting the vehicle. 

A tall, black haired man slides out of the truck and slams the door shut, his locks tucked into a half bun and a white towel resting around his rippling shoulders. He slides his keys into his gym shorts and turns to walk into the house, barely noticing you on the front lawn in an ill-fitting t-shirt and dirty yoga pants. 

He’s halfway to his front door when you find your voice and yell out, “Hey, neighbor!” You wave your hand at him in hopes that he would return the gesture, but you’re sorely disappointed when he only looks your way with disinterest and walks into the house without speaking. You frown at the encounter, hoping that he would return a little while later and explain his lack of manners, but he doesn’t, and you retreat into the house once more. 

______________________________________________________________________

“Unzzz, unzz, unzzzz…” Both eyes fly open at the sound of the bass on the other side of your bedroom wall, the sudden noise jarring you from your sleep. 

“Ugh…” Your eyes slide to the white numbers on the clock face, which politely remind you that it’s five-fifteen AM. Don’t confront him, don’t confront him. You wrap the pillow around your ears, hoping the gentle cushion would block out the sound. But for some reason, it gets even louder, and a groan escapes your lips. There were only two more hours for you to rest, but at this rate, you’d be up until it was time for you to wake and get ready for work. That just wouldn’t do. 

The grey sweatpants deposited on the floor the night before are quickly jerked on, and you pad to the front door, not caring about your appearance as you walk the length of the porch over to his front door. Inhaling, you find the will to bring your fist up and pound on the door, hoping the sound would be angrier than you actually felt. Fear ate at your nerves while you waited. A few agonizing moments later, the door is yanked open, music floods outside, and your neighbor stands before you in just a pair of black sweatpants. Nothing else. 

“What?” he gripes, sweat rolling down his forehead. As your eyes take in the full sight of him, you wonder what kind of sculpted god you had for a neighbor. You could even faintly see the v that would culminate in the bulge near the crotch area of the pants, which apparently is quite--

“Uh…” You had entirely forgotten what you had come over to his side of the house for, but as he leans on the doorframe and gives you a withering stare, you suddenly remember your complaint. “Your wall is next to my bedroom. Can you turn your music down?” You place a hand on your hip, trying to seem more inconvenienced than you actually were in that moment. 

“Yeah, sure.” He shuts the door in your face, and you trudge back over to your side of the house, hoping the music would soften. 

But for some reason, you swear he turns it up even louder. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Why don’t you just call the landlord and make a noise complaint?” your friend wonders over the phone, the sound of a frying pan in the background slightly overshadowing her voice.

“But you said you didn’t have any problems with him, Mariela.” 

“Yeah, Geto was nice enough and didn’t bother me much. Not sure why he’s being such an ass now.” You hear an oh, shit on the other end, and Mariela hisses into the receiver, “Hey, y/n, I have to go; the risotto is burning. Call me back if you have any other issues, okay?” 

“Okay.” You hang up and toss your phone on your desk, trying to focus on the words in front of you but failing as the sound of the bass filters through the other side of the wall again. For the fourth day in a row, you’ve been subjected to the sound of pure noise coming through the other side. Tonight was absolutely not the night, mostly because you had a presentation that took you all night to finish, and the clamor was interrupting your prep work for the bright and early eight o’clock meeting. You feel like Squidward, subjecting yourself to the endless noises from the grunting to the bass to the sound of weights clanking back into place. 

It’s the sound of Geto’s groaning that sets you on edge the most. If it weren’t for the added noise of weights, you’d be convinced he was fucking someone. There was no way he could make so much noise and not know that he was disturbing your peace. Hadn’t he ever heard of headphones? 

You snatch up your set of earbuds on your desk, place them in your ears, and try to turn up lofi music as loud as it will go. But that doesn’t work. Even relocating to the living room didn’t seem to fare you well, and you wonder if he truly had cranked up the music higher than before just to annoy the hell out of you. Finally, you toss your earbuds down and slam your computer on your coffee table. 

You’d had enough. 

Stomping over to the front door, you fling it open and bang on Geto’s door, hoping he would answer it in a rage so you could let out your frustrations. But when the door flies open, he’s dressed in only a pair of gym shorts, this time the outline of his dick even more apparent. But you’re not focused on that. You point a finger at him and inhale to begin your tirade; sick and utterly over his shit.

“Hey! Can you fucking turn it down?” Geto stretches out a hand, and for a minute you think he’s going to grab you by the shirt, but he pulls you inside by the wrist, crushing you against his chest. “What the hell?” You push away from his sweaty chest, backing into the closed door harshly. 

“Lower your damn voice; the neighbors will hear,” he chastises, and turns away from you to grab the water bottle on the counter. The muscled man takes a long swig, then wipes his face with the towel right next to it. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’ve never been so disrespected in my li--” As you talk, he’s advancing on you, pushing back his long black hair back behind his ears and getting too close for comfort. Once he’s right up on you, you gulp hard, fully intimidated by his size and stature. The music suddenly stops, and you’re left in silence. 

“I’m listening,” he mutters, staring down at you. “Please, continue.” 

“I was saying…” your throat dries up. “What I meant was…” Your eyes travel from his chest to his navel, and then to the hand pressed against the doorframe.

“Uh huh…” He nods, squinting his black eyes at you. “You said you’ve ‘never been more disrespected in your’… life, right?” You don’t reply. Rather, you can’t reply. All of the words you could have ever said are now gone from your skull. “I highly doubt that, y/n.” 

“H-how…” 

“You’re Mariela’s friend. I’ve seen you quite a few times before you moved in here. Never thought I’d be living so close to you, though. Mariela’s subletting, isn’t she?” 

All of these questions. And you can’t reply to a single one because he’s practically squeezing you between the door and his rock-hard abs. Or are you pressing yourself against the door to get away from the heat emitting from his body - oh, fuck; you don’t know. 

“But I had to get your attention somehow.” The admission startles you so bad that you accidentally knock the back of your head against the door, touching the point of contact in pain and hissing slightly. Geto hums at your blunder, then pushes off of the wall to turn away from you. As he rotates, you catch a glimpse of his erection, now fully apparent in the atrocity that is his shorts. “The yard work wasn’t effective, the trips to the gym and back barely worked; shit, by now I would’ve thought you would throw yourself at me the first chance you got. I guess I had to make you mad enough to confront me.” 

“You literally looked at me and said nothing the first time I saw you!” you retort, throwing your hands up in the air. “Then you almost bit my head off the first time I came over to tell you the music was too loud.” 

“I didn’t expect you to come over the first time. Besides, I couldn’t figure out anything smooth enough in that short amount of time.” Geto shrugs, his shoulder muscles moving like water in the dim lighting of the living room. You look around at the furnishings, noting his impeccable taste in wood and red suede in conjunction with his minimal exercise equipment. “Coffee? You look like you’ve been up for a while.” He leans over a coffee-maker - one of those fancy ones that you’ve seen on TV - and slides a plain coffee cup into the holder. 

“Uh, no thanks.” You turn to the door and begin to open it, but Geto clicks his tongue thrice. 

“You’re just going to leave without getting what you came for?”

You pause for a moment, then turn back to look him over once. “Don’t you mean what you brought me over here for?” A lazy smile spreads across his face, and that’s when you realize that he’s charming, but not necessarily as suave as you first imagined. You shut the door and walk over to him, examining his physique as if you hadn’t just helped yourself to his tall, statuesque figure already. He allows you to look him over, eyes dedicatedly following you.

“Like what you see, doll?” You don’t get a chance to answer as he pulls you into his chest with a smooth movement, then presses his lips against yours. You instantly open your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside, and he does so without hesitation. Hands grasp at your flimsy night shirt, pulling it over your shoulders as he backs you up against the wall, hiking one leg up and wrapping the other around his waist. 

As both of your hands tangle in hair, fabric, sweat, you wonder how long - just how long - he’s wanted to do this. But your train of thought is rudely interrupted by his lips trailing kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, where he pauses for a second, catching his breath. Fingers dance through his locks and he peers up at you for a second, drinking in your flushed expression and breathy exhales. 

“Geto, please, I--” You’re silenced again by his lips, his thick fingers rolling past the waistband of your night shorts and right to your core, where he nestles them into your heat with ease. 

“Goddamn…” The rumbling of his voice vibrates against your chest, and you gasp, feeling every stroke of his fingers inside of you. “So fucking wet… just for me.” Your vision narrows in on the black eyes watching your every move, the angle of your face, the way you tilt your chin to the side and shakily exhale. Everything is perfect. Maybe even better than he imagined at first. But you don’t know that, and you really don’t care to know. All you want is release and for that release to be at Geto’s hands. When he removes his fingers and hoists you onto the suede couch, your first reaction is to cry out in shock. 

His hands roll your shorts down to your knees and then press your legs open, spreading you for him to examine. 

“You’re a mess down there… perhaps I should help you clean up.” 

“Huh?” The double entendre is completely lost on you in the heat of the moment. You watch as he leans down, then moves to lick your core with a flat tongue, stroking up before he goes down again and repeats his action twice. Your head finds the soft cushion of the pillow in ecstasy, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

Geto hums down below, fully appreciating your taste before sucking on your clit, hard. You yelp, shooting up, but his hand presses you back down, eyes still closed. Fingers make their way up to your breasts, tugging at your nipples leisurely before tightening and pulling with more tension. “Oh, god, please…” Your hands find his head, and at the sudden application of pressure, he grunts again. And you’re left there in agonizing pleasure, dangling between an orgasm and a build-up of pressure, one stroke away from tumbling into the cavern of blissful unawareness. 

Geto stops without warning, pulling back to watch you as he still tweaks your nipples with varying degrees of firmness. You tug at his shorts in a silent plea for him to discard them, and he waits a minute before sliding them off wordlessly. His length is impressive, you note, his cock springing free from his shorts and angled upwards a little. A condom is produced just as quickly, and he rolls it over himself before spreading you a little wider to accommodate his length. When he nudges his cock at your slit, you realise he’s a little breathless and shaking, but that all goes to the back of your mind when he slides inside of you with little resistance. 

“Fuck, doll, that’s--” He groans just as you moan, both of you relishing the expanding feeling. “God, that’s perfect.” You whimper at his praise and bring your hands to his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he begins to pump into you. Geto’s lips find your neck and he sucks a hickey on your left side, placing another one neatly below it while his hands cup your ass. 

“Does that feel good?” He whispers and you nod, completely at a loss for words. But soon, it’s not enough, and your fingers dig into his back. He’s fucking you slowly… too slowly. 

“M-more,” you whine, and he delivers his thrusts faster, pumping into you and moaning loudly. Your fingers find his face and angles it towards your raised head so you can kiss him on the lips. He offers you that mercy - a deep, languid kiss - while he plows into you with abandon. Pleasure is the only thing on your minds - you just so happen to have found it in each other’s arms - and your orgasm is just within reach.

“Geto, I’m close…” His response to your words is to lift your left leg a little higher so it practically hung off the couch and in the air, deeping his strokes until they settled against your cervix, like someone tapping a soft rhythm into your stomach. “Shit, like that.” 

“Yeah?” he exhales, looking at your face with a blissed-out expression, his cheeks reddening. You raise your hips to meet his with each thrust, hoping your orgasm would arrive before Geto came. There isn’t much you can do though, besides writhe beneath him and pull him closer to you, thereby making you and him almost inseparable. He’s merely rocking into your hips now, cock barely rolling out of you as before. And you can’t deny that it feels like heaven, not when you’ve been so frustrated for so long. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Geto hisses into your mouth, and you nod, constricting a little to urge him on. What you fail to realize is that the constriction was just what you need to tumble over into the abyss of thoughtlessness, and your mouth opens to let loose a guttural moan as Geto fucks you faster and faster, chasing his own orgasm on the heels of yours. “Oh, shit,” Your neighbor sinks into you one final time, shooting his cum into the condom, but pumping in stuttered strokes as if he were really letting loose inside of you. 

When you both fall from the heights of your sex-induced high, shoulders and heads are draped where there is comfort and space, little exhales from his mouth fanning across your breasts. Geto lifts off of your sweaty chest and looks you in the eyes before breathing: 

“Maybe I should start my days with this instead of a workout.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Dark Inside

Pairing | Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary | she’s locked away, by the orders of the government. And you are the guard that is chosen with the responsibility of taking her to shower. Surely nothing unprofessional could unfold...

Warnings | nudity, smut, its a little dark I guess idk, shower sex, brief mention of infection, oral sex (fem receiving obvs), fingering, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“Maximoff, get up.” You barked at the convicted avenger, whom kept her head down, staring at the cement floor of her cell. You rapped your hand against the door of her cell, as her head tilted towards you. It was her fault she was here, not yours, there was no reason for you to pity the strange woman, for her actions had come with consequences, and she knew of them before she decided to stand against the governement. “Now, I won’t ask again.”

It was a warning, and she fully understood that, no matter if her ability to read minds was restrained. That collar, metal and encrusted with a luminous red light, prohibited her from bewitching any one or any thing. Her arms were also bound together, limiting the possibility of her escape. She was the perfect prisoner, pretty and withheld, unable to exhume damage across the world, as she previously had done.

Wanda slowly came to stand, her eyes filled with emptiness as she slowly strode to the door, which you came around to. Hastily, you pulled it ajar, watching as her teammates converted their protective eyes towards you, wary for their friend. You hardly paid them mind as you escorted Maximoff through the walls of their holding, and through the corridors.

She plodded, like a barren mare, eyes sullen and downcast as you escorted her past the empty halls, and towards the shower room, where you lightly shoved her forward, lightly smirking as she did not struggle against the pressure you enjoyed roughing her up with. Out of all the government official inmates, she was by far your favourite. Her mouth remained shut, no sounds left her defined cheeks, all emotion was tucked away, in that blue suit that constricted her.

“Alright Maximoff, let’s get you out of this tight number.” You smirked at your own words, your hands pulling at the blue gear that kept her arms folded. As you stripped her, you could not help but let your hands scrape her pale sides, running down her waist as you pushed the navy suit down, keeping the collar on of course, as you reached behind her, watching as her breasts lightly bounced from the action.

Next to be removed were her panties, her feet shuffled as you dragged the material down, feeling as your eyes bore into her pussy lips, though you didn’t keep your gaze up for long. Instead of staring at her pretty cunt, you stood and tapped her ass. “Forwards girl.” She obliged with the action, moving slowly under the shower head, wrapping her arms around herself as you reached around her, your covered breasts pressing against her back as you turned the spray of water on.

As you moved away, you noticed how she tried to keep her modesty, not changing her stance of having her back turned to you. Her hands slowly raked through her dark hair, stroking the grease out of the strands as you watched, as was your job to do. Her back was thin, yet strong. She had held onto so much throughout her life, supporting her team, and that amounted to nothing more than declaring her a sentence.

People saw Wanda as a danger to society, here she was safe from causing more pain upon the world, restrained from reigning damage upon the earth. It had been ten minutes of her pathetically grazing her body with her shy fingertips, her attempts to cleanse herself were poor. “We don’t have all day inmate, if you want to actually be ridden of all that sweat and dirt that you’ve collected whilst being contained in that bag that clothes you, I suggest you get to scrubbing. Quickly.”

From you words, Wanda gulped, though nevertheless began to massage her knuckles on the midst of her chest, down to her stomach, and... she felt almost sick as she was about to wash the most private part of herself in front of someone. But she had no choice if she didn’t want to guarantee herself the severe cost of an infection down under.

Taking in a calming breath, that did little to actually calm herself, Wanda cupped her mound, lightly rubbing, her body jolting at how sensitive she was. A shuffling alerted her ears from behind, and she watched you kick her restraint suit lightly, her head prompting its gaze over her shoulder.

“Time is up, get dried and dressed.” The words sounded like a curse free falling from the curve of your lips. She didn’t want to be returned into that box, until the next time she required to use the lavatory, or her every other day shower. It was more constructing than the clothing that she was forced into, the four walls caging her in like a wild animal on show for children to see.

“Can’t I just have a couple more minutes?” Her voice was rough, sounding like seething sandpaper, for she had not used it in weeks. She usually spoke to no one, and thus it was a surprise when she finally did, more so when it was you.

“I have a tight schedule.” Your teeth gritted as you tutted deliberately at her enquiry. “But if you want my help to allow you bask in there a little longer, it’s gonna cost you, baby girl.” The sound and context of your voice made the young woman shudder, aware that your silent suggestion was an invitation for something deeper, and not one for the light hearted to take up on.

But she never considered herself weak at the knees from emotions, not anymore. There had been too much pain, and too many losses to think of herself as such. She could get through this, coil into your offered whim, or she could keep her dignity in tact, though it wouldn’t be complete for she would still remain tangled with her own dead skin clinging onto her for dear life.

“What do you want?” Her accent, which had somewhat faded a smudge, rang through your ears, making you curiously squint at her. But you said nothing, instead, pulling your shirt over your head, cocking your neck at the woman as her eyes went wide, seeing you be so forwards with your intent.

“I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate Maximoff.” You spoke as you kicked your boots off, toying with your belt, as your eyes denied to leave her bare skin. “Why don’t you turn around, so that I can see that lovely little bush I expect you’re growing.” She wasn’t sure if your words brought her somewhat comfort, or had her skin crawling, there was now a thin line between the two.

Nevertheless, the woman turned, blessing your eyes with her full silhouette. She was admittedly beautiful, especially out of her restraints, except of course, that heavy metal collar that forbade her from using her scarlet witchery. “Come closer, I’m not the one here that supposedly bites the hand that feeds.”

As her body spiralled around, to give you a clear and overall view of her body, you couldn’t admit to yourself that you were impressed. You had been right, there were hairs beginning to peak out of her skin, and her breasts, well they were like balanced bowls of water, awaiting for someone to drink from them.

At your words, Wanda gulped, though she did not stop moving, she instead, paced her feet forwards, not withholding her motions as came to stand before you, nervously licking her lips as she watched you toy with the waistband of your bottoms. It was uncertain if you were teasing her or yourself, though she figured that she best not complain, you were the one in charge here, and one step out of line could leave all her efforts for nothing.

Eventually, after moments of nerve wrecking and pent up expense, you dragged the cargos down your legs, showing her the blankness of your grey underwear. Grey was an understated colour, she saw it all around; from the falling of her country, to the walls that the government had encased her within. But this particular shade, encompassed quite literally against your skin, making her no longer envision it as a dull exterior, but instead an exciting barrier that concealed all the goods beneath its plain material.

Without instruction, Wanda dismissed herself unto her own knees, collapsing her weight down upon the back of her thighs as she tucked her hands around the back of your shins, her green eyes boring up at you, as she pressed an experimental kiss upon your thigh. “Go on Maximoff, earn yourself that extra shower time.” You kicked your panties off, leaving your bottom half bare to the enhanced woman, rolling your shoulders back as you took a steady breath through your nose.

Your fingers cascaded through her long locks, gently tugging her closer, forcing her to breathe in your scent, before her tongue darted out, licking a fine line along the outside of your lips. A frown settled upon your face at her obvious lack of knowledge when it came to pleasing a woman, though you allowed her to continue to explore herself, holding your lip between your teeth as you hungrily stared down at her.

“Good girl.” You coaxed her as she allowed her eyes to lightly flutter, her fingers, small and agile, reached up to part your pussy open, allowing her more access to what was behind its curtains. “Focus on the clit Maximoff, uses your fingers too.” Instead of your instructions leaving you as orderly, as you had planned them to pass in your head, they heaved from your chest in a breathy whisper.

Wanda complied with your verbal assistance, circling her warm and wet tongue around your special bud, rotating it around in her mouth as she pulled the pink ball of flesh into the confines of her mouth, striking it with rolls of her spinning saliva. Her hand trailed down from your lips, rubbing the pads against your slit, as you leant your head back, her nailed digits moving towards your entrance.

Her fingers fumbled, as one tried to surpass the entrance of your pussy, but slipped, only for her to try once more, succeeding to have your cunt swallow her digit into its lubricated depths, suctioning it within the confines of your walls. “Fuck, you’re not terrible at that inmate.” It wasn’t supposed to come across as a compliment, rather it was a noted observation to yourself. Though Wanda still muffled a moan against your mound, pumping her finger in and out of your walls.

Her administrations sped up, causing you to clench around her ravaging fingers, that albeit messy and irregular with their movements, were bringing you closer to fulfilling your satisfaction. It was wrong, to get off using the aid of an inmate, but she was far too compelling to just leave to her own innocent devices, alone in that little cell of hers. “Fuck.” You came over her face and fingers, rutting your hips as she lapped up your sweet nectar.

Once you had rode your orgasm out, you shoved her head away, falling down onto the tiles, and laying her down, spreading her legs wide as you by palmed at her perfect breasts. “Such a gorgeous little cunt. I knew that you’d get off on this, there’s a tantalising darkness to you, and that is what pulled me in.”

Your palms caressed her thighs, stroking soothingly down the parting of her legs and her centre piece, throwing your face between her revealed boudoir, trailing your tongue in quick motions up and down the expanse of her cunt, your fingers running languidly upon her swollen clit.

The fuzz from her growing hairs rubbed against the bottom of your face, but you cared not about the natural order of her body; in fact, it was kind of sexy. Your tongue entered her, slipping through her folds as you tasted everything that she had to offer you, tracing the shapes of figure eights within her flushed walls, your cheeks pressing against the insides of her cheeks.

“Oh my gosh.” Another few words that fell from her open mouth, her hands grasping the solid slate of the floor, as her hips lightly bucked up into your mouth, strings of moans dribbling off her tongue. “I- I-“ you soothed her thigh, confirming that it was okay, and all she had to was release all the tension building up within her.

And with that, she spilled, her swarm of essence falling onto your tongue, as your tongue eased out of her cunt, raking up the length of her pussy, cleaning up the mess that you had made of her.

“Looks like you’re gonna need another shower Maximoff.” You smirked, as you pulled your mouth away from her dripping cunt, her juices painting your rabid smirk in the most beautiful resolution. “I’ll let you have that extra time now.”

[barnesbabee]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ᴛᴇɴ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST:

White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki @miraculoustaytiny [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

The King wasted no time. After getting you back, he immediately scheduled the coronation, as he couldn't wait to call you his Queen. The Castle was in a frenzy, the sound little frog feet slapping against the marble floors echoed in every division. Seonghwa refused to have the coronation in the same room where he got married, he didn't want to re-live the awful moment when his wife got stolen from him... So the maids and butlers found new decorations, moved the paintings and transformed another one of the King's dark and cold rooms into a place worthy of a welcoming party.

"Let's do it in the throne room. Place her throne by my right." He had said.

The tradition was for the throne to be moved in front of everyone present, so they could witness the changes and their new reality first hand, but Seonghwa was a little tired of following tradition.

You and him stood in the middle of the throne room, with every single maid and butler running around frantically, trying to get everything done on time. You looked on proudly, enjoying the way it was all coming along.

The excess of red and black was gone, it was now balanced with white and gold, and with the new paintings and lights giving the room a new life it looked like a completely new place. The blinds behind the throne were finally opened, revealing the most beautiful stained glass images. There were four people, who you assumed were Seonghwa's family.

You reminisced the first time you had come to that room, panting and confused, standing in the dark, cold room being judged by the merciless man Seonghwa once was. The contrast was almost unbelievable, but you were glad you had gotten this far.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your figure and a chin on your shoulder.

"I'll have it replaced. First, just the two of us, and then, once we have our little prince, or princess," he paused, caressing your stomach, where you'd carry your future child "I'll have it replaced once more, with a full picture of our family."

He kissed your cheek and you smiled.

"But Seonghwa, are you sure you wanna take down the picture of your family?" You questioned, feeling honoured yet a little wrong, replacing the original King and Queen.

He stood straight, and his cheerful expression was immediately replaced by one of pain and confusion, remembering all of the memories alongside those people.

"Why not? They have given me nothing but a lifetime of suffering, you have given me nothing but happiness and a chance of redemption. You deserve to be up there, immortalized, as a part of the new Royal family."

"Thank you..."

That was all you could say, as there were no words that could possibly describe how you felt.

One of the maids stole you away from your husband for a second, so you could change from the dirty, ripped-up wedding dress for the new ceremony. She helped you switch to a princess-style dress, all in red silk. The revealing heart-shaped neckline was covered with black lace, that extended all the way to your hands and wrapped around your index finger.

"You look lovely, Miss." The maid said as she fixed your hair.

You thanked her with a small smile and headed towards the throne room. Usually, it would be packed with people, but due to the previous altercation, the only people attending the coronation would be the castle staff, aside from the knights who were assigned to protect the castle during the event.

You carefully sat on the throne, feeling Seonghwa's eyes (or... eye) inspecting you. He leaned over, so he could whisper in your ear.

"You look marvelous in red."

He sat back straight in his throne and smiled at your shy expression. A tall man soon entered the room holding two boxes. He opened one of the boxes and slowly (and carefully) placed the crown on the King's head. It was exaggerated, yet classy and sophisticated like Seonghwa. You could tell it had been specially done for him.

"We shall now begin the coronation of Miss Y/N." The man announced.

He opened the box in front of you, revealing the most beautiful, victorian crown. It was made up of white gold and adorned with the most beautiful red and white stones.

"I hereby declare, by the powers given to me by His majesty Park Seonghwa, the new Queen of Wonderland, Queen Y/N."

The man slowly placed the crown on your head, and it was a perfect fit. He stepped away so the painter could see your smiling faces, as he immortalized the moment on a canvas.

The castle staff smiled and cheered for you, their new Queen.

"Bring her!" The King shouted, and the whole room froze.

The thought on everyone's mind was 'Who's her'.

The heavy doors to the room opened, and a chained woman, dressed in a black cape with her white, disheveled hair showing stepped in, with the help of two guards.

"Unchain her."

The guards obeyed the King, and unchained the woman, who rotated her wrists with a sigh of contentment.

"Finally, what do I owe the honour, Sir?"

The crowd in front of you looked on, petrified. Who the fuck was she?

"Undo the room." Seonghwa commanded.

"Hm there have been some changes, I see." The woman said, her voice cracking mid-sentence.

She looked at you, with her bright purple eyes, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Yes, there have. Now please do as I asked."

"Very well Sir."

The woman removed her black cape, revealing a small, crooked young-looking woman. She lifted her hands in the air, creating a small green fog in her hands, that she aimed at all beings in the room. The people, who were previously humanoid frogs, were turned back into their original form. Tears of happiness formed in everyone's eyes and cries of thankfulness echoed in the room. One maid approached you and knelt by your feet.

"Thank you... Thank you so much!"

You recognized the voice, it was the maid that had thanked you the other day for staying with Seonghwa, and the one that usually helped you dress. You smiled and held her hands.

"No need to kneel around me Miss, thank you for your hard work."

She bowed to you as she walked back to cheer with her peers.

Seonghwa stood up and held out his hand for you to take, and so you followed.

"Iracebeth, follow us. You two," the King said, looking at the two guards who had brought the witch "make sure everyone is gathered at the town center by the time we arrive."

The guards nodded and immediately headed out. Seonghwa took your arm and started walking with you, headed to the town center, you guessed.

You looked behind you to look at the witch, that stared at you with a sinister expression.

"Are you sure it's safe to bring her along, won't she like... curse you? You know, for keeping her locked up?" You whispered.

"Oh, no that won't be an issue."

You tilted your head to the side.

"How come?"

Seonghwa blushed, embarrassed to recall what he had done.

"Well, I tricked her into falling in love with me so I could get her to cast a spell on herself that would only allow her to cast the spells I request her to. I then locked her in the dungeon because I didn't want to deal with her constant crying and blabbering about how I tricked her, that's probably why she's looking at you like..." He glanced over at the witch "... like that."

You hit his arm.

"Park Seonghwa!"

"Ow! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I regret doing it but if I undo it now it could have severe consequences, not only for me but for you too. And we can't have that."

You sighed and nodded. It's true that it was cruel, but you didn't want any consequences headed your way, you'd had enough.

You stopped in front of a black and gold carriage, the one that would take you into town. Seonghwa helped you get on and then sat beside you. The witch rode in front of you, her creepy smile and envious eyes staring into your soul the whole ride. Seonghwa held your hand tightly, also feeling uneasy by her presence.

"We're here, Sir."

Seonghwa took a deep breath. You could tell he was nervous, as all of the people from the Kingdom looked at the carriage, expectantly. You kissed his cheek and held his hand tighter.

"It will be okay." You assured him.

Seonghwa smiled softly and exited the carriage, alongside you and the witch. The expressions of the people once they saw the witch were the same as back in the castle, and they braced for the worst.

The King said nothing, he only turned to the witch and said 'do it'.

Once more, she cast the spell, that supposedly returned them to what they once were, but it didn't go as planned. Some people returned to their original state, but the ones who had turned from animals to humans, not so much... Some had the luck of being completely turned back to who they were, others were left hybrids, mixes of animals and humans. You found Cheshire, still as a human, happily playing with his ears and tail, and Haiga, the Hare, jumping about with his hare feet about the return of his long ears. It didn't take much for those two to be happy. There was a mix of emotions among the crowd, however, some people that had married into families who were previously human, were happy they got some of their old life back and they would still be able to maintain their relationship, others were sad (and mad) that they would never be able to return to whom they once were.

"What happened!?" Seonghwa whisper-yelled to the witch.

"The curse has been cast for far too long, I wasn't able to undo it completely." She explained, ashamed of her own skills.

"People, I apologize," as soon as he spoke those words the commotion calmed down, and everyone seemed shocked. The King? Apologizing? "it seems the curse has gone on for too long and is irreversible in some cases. I ask that whoever has been affected attends the castle tomorrow so I can offer a proper compensation for all of the damages caused, that would be all."

[dandelionflower]

She sings alone

When they got to the room, Adrien was sitting at an enormous piano, playing a jaunty tune and bouncing in his seat. He wasn’t even looking at the keys, his eyes roaming the room and choosing to stick on-

Lila.

Oh.

Okay, maybe he hadn’t seen her come in. After all, the piano was really big, so even if Adrien was looking directly at the door, he might not have seen them come in.

Lila danced around the room, orange skirt warping around her legs as she spun near to Alya and pulled her deeper into the spacious closet, taking one of her hands and joining it with Nino, leading the pair in a quick-paced dance until she was satisfied that they would carry it on without her.

Adrien’s eyes stayed on her, closing slightly as he allowed for a fond smile.

Okay, okay fine. That was fine. Adrien was allowed to watch his friends! Even if his friend was (ugh) Lila. Marinette drifted further into the room, keeping to the walls as other friends mimicked Alya and Nino’s lively movements.

Finally, (finally!) Adrien’s eyes caught hers and he gave her a cocky wink as the song he was playing changed bit by bit until it was the accompaniment to her favorite pop song; one they had sung together on their way back from their first date.

Marinette’s lips turned up in a fond smile (she really couldn’t resist those green eyes, huh?) as she took a deep breath and-

“Living in my own world...” Lila hummed out the starting notes, approaching the piano with a coy smile, like Adrien was doing this for her. “Didn’t understand…”

Marinette dug her fingernails into the heel of her hand. This was fine. This was fine. Nothing wrong with a couple of friends singing a song together! Even if it happens to be one of the friends’ girlfriend’s favorite.

Lila hopped up on top of the piano, turning her waist so that while her knees faced one of the walls, her torso was pointed directly towards Adrien, so Marinette wasn’t even able to see what sort of expressions she was making.

...not that she needed to. Because she wasn’t. No one liked a jealous girlfriend, and anyway, Adrien knew Lila was a liar! So there’s no way he could be interested.

Lila leaned forwards, recapturing Adrien’s attention from the keys and forcing it back to her face. Adrien tensed in surprise, but seemed to relax even more than he previously was once his eyes landed back on Lila’s face.

Aaaaaand that was that. She needed to step out for a second.

Marinette pushed off of the wall and began traversing through the dancing pairs, eyes on the doorway. She had only made it halfway when Alix grabbed her and began leading her in an odd dance of her own.

“My usual partners are a bit occupied.” She quipped, jerking her head towards Kim, who was trying fruitlessly to get Chloe to join him on the floor. Nathaniel and Max had their own partners as well, though Sabrina and Marc seemed a bit more acquiessing than Kim’s intended. “Thought since you weren’t dancing, you’d like to join me.”

Marinette remembered all the times Alix had protested cancelling or even postponing class dances due to scheduling. During Bubbler, Alix almost seemed disappointed for the party to be over. Even though she never claimed to be as formal as her father, it was clear that she loved dancing in a crowd with only another person as her anchor in the waves of people.

She put on an encouraging smile, not looking at whatever scene was happening by the piano. Alix was her friend, and if she wanted to be dancing, they would dance.

“Sure thing. Thanks for thinking of me.” Marinette could focus on this, just this, until the song was over and she could go, or, even better, join Adrien by the piano.

It wasn’t a problem, until at the end of the song, Adrien’s voice harmonized with Lila’s in a chord that was so beautiful, it shattered her heart in more ways than one. Alix spun Marinette and between rotations she saw how close the two were, and how excited Adrien seemed. She caught her in a dip and Adrien pressed the keys in the final note, everyone separating from their partners to applaud the musical duo.

“That was great, you guys!” Nino placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “A match made in heaven!” His eyes caught Marinette’s and he amended his statement. “A professional match made in business heaven?”

Lila laughed and gave a mock bow. “Thanks, Nino. I wasn’t really planning on singing; after the rock slide accident where I had to call for help in the freezing cold for hours, I didn’t think my vocal cords would be up to it, but when I heard my favorite song start playing, I guess it was just instinct.” She shrugged in a gesture of humility that was about as real as the rest of her.

“Well, your instincts were great.” Adrien commented, standing up from the piano bench and giving her one of his wholesome smiles. “I really enjoyed playing with you.”

“Likewise.” Lila smiled back until her gaze wandered to Marinette. (Of course, everyone but her boyfriend was looking at Marinette (nope, no not bitter at all)) “Oh, Marinette! You’re still doing the costumes right?”

Marinette nodded, once, teeth grit into a smile.

“I found the most beautiful dress,” she spun to a box that was sitting by the wall, picking it up to bring it to Marinette and show her the red silk inside, “and I’d really love it if you’d modify it for me?” She tilted her head forwards and gave Marinette pitiful eyes. As if she didn’t already know Marinette couldn’t say no in front of everyone.

“Of course. I’d just need your measurements and what you want me to do with the dress.” She could be a ventriloquist with how little she was moving her mouth.

“Great!” She pulled out the bottom of the dress, showing off a familiar skirt. It was the dress from the picture. “I’d really like it if you could make it more form-fitting, less poofy, you know?”

“Don’t you think we should ask if we can modify these dresses before we make any decisions?” Please don’t make me ruin such an incredible dress. “Technically, they are historical artifacts.”

“Grace said you could redesign the costumes, right?” Alya tapped at her phone and pulled up a recording she had made.

“Your main job will be refitting and redesigning all the costumes for your friends.” Grace’s digitized voice affirmed Lila’s request.

“That settles it then,” at least one of her teeth must have cracked by now, right? “I’ll just get your measurements and edit the skirt. I’ll need to do it some other time, since I don’t have my-”

“Measuring tape?” Lila whipped out a stylized tape from the box. It was rose gold and was almost calling to her. “I found this near the dress. I’m sure it will work.”

Marinette took the device reverently, running her thumb over the engraved vines on the sides before catching herself and looking up.

“That’ll work. Can you hold your arms out?”

Marinette took Lila’s measurements with a practice ease, and rechecked before typing her numbers and desired modifications into a document on her phone. When she looked up, she was surrounded by boxes and her friends, looking at her with hopeful eyes, as well as a stack of suits of each boy, none of whom seemed to care.

“Okay, what do you want changed? I already have your measurements.” She knelt down and sat beside Lila’s box, letting her friends come to her. This was her favorite part about designing; giving people what they wanted and making them look however they liked.

Rose and Alix both wanted the fabrics from their dresses converted into suits. That was easy enough. Alya found a sweet orange dress that she just needed refitted. Juleka muttered something about “less wide, but still swishy.” Mylene wanted the opposite; to give her dress a larger diameter.

All in all, Lila’s would probably take the longest, because she wanted all the complexities of the intricate gown to be stripped off and for the silk to be repurposed as a cocktail dress.

Marinette nodded to herself and began stacking boxes, looking up at her friends who were still standing awkwardly nearby.

“Guys, these are way too many boxes for one person to carry; let’s each grab a box and take them to Marinette’s room!” Lila chirped, leaning down to pick up her dress, the hem of it dragging on the grimy closet floor.

Everyone murmured an agreement and picked up their respective costumes, filing out the door. Marinette was the last one out, but just as she was about to step out, she found herself face-to-face with Lila.

“You haven’t found your dress yet, have you Marinette?” Her voice was saccharine sweet, but with the masked loathing that Marinette found herself recognizing whenever Lila spoke to her. “Why don’t you spend more time in the closets?”

Before she could realize what was happening, the closet door had slammed in her face and clicked with what Marinette was certain was a lock.

“Oh no, Marinette!” She heard Lila’s muffled ‘concern’ through the door.

“What happened?” Alya’s voice grew louder as she approached the door, or, more likely, Lila.

“Marinette stopped to tie her shoe and I must have bumped the door closed by accident. I feel so guilty.” Sure, and the tears Lila was crying right now weren’t crocodiles.

“It’s fine girl,” Alya reassured her (no, it wasn’t fine!), “I’m sure Marinette will forgive you. Here, give me your box; I’ll take it upstairs while you go find someone who can get her out.”

“Right.” The sound of receding footsteps; they must have left. “Just as soon as I have a chat with one mister Agreste.” ...or not. There was a cheery ring of the phone, and Lila’s smug tone melted into something more pathetic. “Adrien! Come back downstairs, quick! I’ll meet you at the front desk.” Lila chuckled and left with a single knock at the closet door.

...Great. She was stuck. Through sheer habit from akuma attacks, Marinette traced all four walls with a finger, looking for another secret passage, or even a normal one at this point. Nothing, because of course when she’s comfortable she finds a random exit, but not when she actually needs it.

She groaned and fell back against the wall, sliding to the ground and tilting her head back so she could close her eyes and pretend she wasn’t actually in this situation.

The people I’m closest to either don’t know what’s going on or think it’s handled. She thought morosely. So I might as well get comfortable.

Just as she was about to let herself take a little cat nap (she could hear Chat Noir snickering now), she heard a trill come from the piano. Her eyes cracked open and slid to the corner of the room with the instrument, thinking that maybe one of her friends stayed behind.

But no one was there.

Marinette’s curiosity won out and she approached the keys. They pressed down in a few familiar chords; another one of her favorite songs. She wasn’t really sure how self-playing pianos worked, but it must have been ‘programmed’ with some of the more recent pop songs, despite the fact that the room looked like it had been untouched for years, aside from their recent discovery of it.

Shrugging, she sat down at the bench, watching as the keys continued playing the introduction to her second favorite song. She had nothing better to do, why not?

“I’ve got a lot of things I have to do… All these distractions, our future’s coming soon…”

She sang through the entire song, leaning to her left side occasionally, like some other person was sitting beside her; someone that hadn’t left. Marinette closed her eyes and adopted the illusion of company. Blond hair, beautiful eyes, a teasing grin- no a half-smile, like he’s hiding how much he’s enjoying this. Even though he knows she knows he loves it, just like she does.

Just like she loves him. Her grumpy dork. Her Fe-

There was a clatter near the door, and it crumpled, revealing Allegra, leg out in front of her like she had just kicked it down. Which she probably had.

“Marinette? Lost again?” Her laugh seemed shaken, nervous. She had expected to see someone else.

“Something like that.” She matched the laugh; Allegra’s business was her business. Not Marinette’s.

“Well, come on out.” She gestured over her shoulder. “Your friends are looking for you.”

They walked together out of the ballroom and into the main entrance of the building, where Alix and Kim accosted her immediately.

“Marinette! We need your help. Nino’s gone missing?”

~

“Grace!” Allegra barrelled into the room like a tornado. “He’s here! He’s manifesting.”

Her clipboard clattered to the floor as Grace’s knees buckled. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Felix! He’s here.”

Grace sighed. “Felix is an apparition, ‘Legra. Barely even a poltergeist. He has a mild presence, but there’s no way you could have actually seen him.”

“Oh yeah?” Allegra whipped her head at her, flames in her eyes. “Earlier today, I found Marinette in the hall of portraits. She said she followed a black cat through a tunnel.”

“Well- that could have been-”

“And, and just a minute ago, I heard the piano playing and singing. When I came into the closet; it was just Marinette. She thought the piano was self playing, Grace. As in, she wasn’t the one playing.”

“Felix didn’t play the piano.” Grace reminded her. “Bridge did, because-”

“Because her voice sounded like a dozen murder victims, I know.” Allegra rolled her eyes. “But it was Felix who taught her how to play. Gracie, it’s him.”

“It’s not.” Grace glared at her. “There’s no way he could be coming back so soon.”

“Fine, keep being ignorant. But I’m telling Finny, and he’ll believe me.” Allegra stormed out of the room, turning over her shoulder only once. “Oh, and it looks like Nicky has come out to play, so get ready to handle that.”

……

The rest

@merry-madness @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @aestheticnpoetic @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything @goggles-mcgee @grumpy-kitten-vixen @artemisdragona @lookatthestars1 @demonicbusiness @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @vice-artist

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Untitled Coronita Heights Sequel Snippet #1

Maybe if I put this out into the universe it will make me beholden to writing consistently. 😂

Of course, Jane had vibrated with impatience the entire time she got dressed and then, the entire car ride to Baci, the place to which Jane and Maura had returned many times since their first date there nearly a year prior. They had converted Nina and Frankie into fans not long after Empire High’s CIF championship, and now, the four of them disembarked Frankie’s S-Class into the warm evening, with Jane marching annoyingly close to Frankie’s back. “I’ll get it outta you eventually,” she threatened him, lips near his ear, when they stopped at the front counter to confirm their reservation at their favorite table near the back.

“Yeah, no kiddin’,” he said, shaking his head at her intensity, “it’s why I’m here. I’m not hidin’ anything, I just wanna get some antipasti first. I’m starvin’.”

“Seattle really know you’re here?” she pressed on when the hostess took them beyond a throng of tables, several of the patrons recognizing Frankie.

“Jane!” Maura admonished, more concerned with Jane’s rudeness than Frankie’s fame.

“No, I somehow evaded White House level security and the entire bullpen on my own,” Frankie cracked. He huffed when he heaved himself into his chair and a menu was placed in front of him. “Thanks,” he said to the hostess, both for her swift service and for the privacy she would afford them throughout their stay.

Jane plopped menacingly across from her. “Major league teams don’t let you just leave,” she said. “Not during a regular season game.”

Nina clamped her lips comically shut. She signaled to the waiter, their usual one, for a bottle of wine to the table, and he knew without heading over which one to bring.

Maura rolled her eyes. “Would you let your brother talk?” she said.

Jane turned to her to glare, but it sufficiently subdued her. “Well, then talk,” she said.

Frankie waited for the wine to arrive and for Maura to pour it before rubbing a meaty hand over his face. He reminded himself of all the good things about his sister, the things he loved, like how they hadn’t talked since Tuesday, but somehow managed matching jeans and silk shirts. His was plain, and Maura had clearly picked Jane’s for the floral pattern on black, but still. Their connection remained uncanny, even with miles and years between them. He decided against throttling her, for at least the time it took him to get out what he needed to say. “I was uh, I was approached with a certain opportunity last week,” he started.

Jane leaned back, folding her arms over her chest. She looked over at Maura, beautiful in a white sundress of her own, then to Nina, who studied the menu like it was Grey’s Anatomy, and then back to Frankie. “You want me to guess?” she barked finally.

“Give the bad cop shit a rest, would ya! I’m gettin’ there!” Frankie responded. He leaned his elbows towards her and stole a glance on either side of them to check for eavesdroppers. “I was approached with an opportunity by Mike Piazza.”

He had Jane’s attention before, but this bit of news put it in a stranglehold. “You had a sitdown with The Monster?” she asked, the nickname used with nothing but affection. “But why…?”

First her eyes lit up, then his did - it had just been announced in April, but Piazza’s most recent job meant that he could only be talking to Frankie about one thing. “He wants me to pitch for Italy, Janie.”

Maura placed her hand over Jane’s glass just in time to keep it from falling out of Jane’s hand. Jane just guffawed in joy. “Frankie, that’s fantastic! He asked you personally?!”

“Yeah, he did,” Frankie confirmed, with a boyish grin and a blush both a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “He thinks I can anchor the rotation.”

“I’m sorry,” Maura stopped them both, happy but cautious. “What exactly are you two talking about? Pitching for Italy?”

Jane turned, all too eager to explain. “The World Baseball Classic,” she said. “Countries play each other every four years, just like the World Cup. And Mike Piazza was just tapped to manage Team Italy.”

“Ah!” Maura let herself react with no more reservations. She set her own glass down and rubbed Frankie’s forearm on the table. “That is exciting! You get to represent your home country!”

“Thanks, Maura,” he said, dipping his head. And then, Nina elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow!”

“Would you get on with it?” she hissed at him. “They’re on the edge of their seats!”

Frankie rubbed his side. “No, you’re on the edge of your seat.”

Jane narrowed her gaze again. “That wasn’t it?”

“Well, Mike mentioned one other thing. So, you uh… you heard about Danny Descalso, right?” asked Frankie, hushed again.

“Yeah… ruptured achilles. Out for a long time,” Jane said. “Why?”

“He’s out for the rest of this season,” Frankie said leadingly. “And for the spring.”

“OK… but he plays for the Diamondbacks. What’s that got to do with you?” Jane asked.

“It’s not what it’s got to do with me, but what it’s got to do with you,” said Frankie.

“With me? Now I am definitely lost,” replied Jane.

Frankie looked at Nina, took her hand. She squeezed it, and he smiled.  “Remember that he was the anchor for Team Italy at second during the last WBC,” he said.

“So?” Jane said.

Maura gasped. That only heightened Jane’s nervousness.

“She gets it. What position do you play?” Frankie shifted his thick eyebrows at Jane playfully, his full, Italian lips pursing in the way that he waited for her to connect the dots.

“...You serious?” was all that Jane could think to reply.

“Ah!” Nina, unable to hold herself in any longer, shouted happily in Jane’s direction, waving her hands and stomping her feet under their table.

“Mike kinda sees us as a package deal,” Frankie said. “He wants to do everything he can to make sure you play second base for Team Italy.”

“Sweetheart, that’s amazing!” Maura exclaimed right along with Frankie and Nina, elated for Jane and all that the offer could mean.

“Hell no, Frankie,” Jane dropped ice water on them all. When Frankie went to protest, she held up her hand. “You kiddin’ me? I haven’t played competitively in almost seven years. The last time was the Cape League. Not exactly triple A.”

“So what?” Frankie waved her off. “Most guys in the classic don’t have any major league experience. Sure, the stars come out, but the journeyman players and the young guns are what make it exciting. And the first woman in the competition? Forget about it. That would be real fuckin’ exciting, Janie.”

She was adamant. “I’m tellin’ you, no. My knee is-”

This time it was Maura who cut Jane off. “Now, we’ve talked about this,” she said sternly. “Your knee is almost, if not completely, restored. You had a world-class surgeon, Jane. And the best money spent on your rehab. If you let me help you, develop a therapeutic routine, I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” said Jane, returning the interruption in kind. “I do. What about the kids? We’re gunnin’ for another championship trophy. How do I just abandon them come March? And that’s even if the district will approve my time off.”

The three of them crossed their arms as well, as if to show her the same resistance to her resistance. “Jane,” Nina began, “I know I’m new here, and maybe it’s not my business. But I just want to say I have access to the best orthopedic surgeons and clinicians on the West Coast. And if this was something you really committed to, you’d have access to them, too. UC Irvine is just a short drive away. You could get a full workup and rehab program designed just for you.”

Frankie nodded, took it as a good sign that his sister shut up. “And… the Mariners let me be here today because Mike asked them to. Irvine has offered you access to their training site and their fields, if you want it.”

Jane sniffed and looked down at her shoes. “Coach Benedetti?”

Frankie’s old coach, who used to be at UCLA. “Yeah. He wants to see you do it, Jane. We all wanna see you do it. So bad.”

Jane was about to refuse again, when she felt a hand on her thigh. It was Maura, imploring Jane to look at her, saying nothing and not needing to. Communicating everything that needed to be communicated with her eyes, the crossing of her legs, the turning of her chest completely towards Jane. “I… I dunno,” Jane said instead, and it felt like a seismic shift from just minutes before.

“Do me a huge, huge favor. Just think about it, and let me know by next week, a’right? Tryouts are in January. You train your ass off for the next four months, then you come, do some drills, hit some bombs, you know. The Rizzoli way.” Frankie said softly, only for his sister.

She stared at him, and nodded once. “I’ll think about it.”

The rest of their evening meal passed in pleasurable, but charged, avoidance of the topic, and the car ride back to Jane and Maura’s house was all but silent.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Not just a soft princess - Azula x female reader imagine: Part Two

You arrive at the fire nation and things do not go as Azula planned, mainly because she didn’t expect to be putting her own neck on the line to protect you from her father...but that’s exactly what she finds herself doing more and more. 

Part one here

Part three here

Part four here

Part five here

Part six here

Your POV

The ship landed just as the sun was rising and you expected to be shown to a room to sleep but instead Azula started towards the palace and gestured for you to follow. The dai li were sent down another corridor and you hesitated but Azula called your name sharply and so you turned away. You had no idea where Azula was taking you, all you heard her say was “he will want to see her” to two guards who hastily got out of her way. You were so angry and scared you didn’t take in the grand decor or extravagant wealth of the fire nation. You just followed Azula as you went further into the belly of the beast. When you got closer Azula dismissed everyone apart from you but one person didn’t leave. Her brother Zuko stayed and Azula narrowed her eyes. She yanked him to the side and they argued in whispers but eventually Azula won. You wondered if she ever lost....Zuko turned back the way you’d come and disappeared around a corner. Azula carried on walking without saying anything and anxious not to be left behind you hurried after her. You finally reached a huge throne room lined with fire and gaped. "Father" Azula said sprawling on the floor in a bow. The figure in the fire turned and looked at you both before fixing it’s eyes on you. Azula shot you a look but you made no attempt to move "you said nothing about bowing, i am still princess of the earth kingdom". Azula narrowed her eyes when suddenly the figure moved out of the fire. Fire lord Ozai loomed before you and glanced over you “so this is the princess" Ozai said coming to stand right infront of you. He lifted your chin with his hand and stared in your eyes harshly. "You are now our ally so i will excuse this lapse in judgement just this once...but in the future you will bow to me and only me. We are allies but i your king, do you understand?". He jerked his hand away but you didn’t let you chin drop, the fire lord glared at you but you matched his eye defiantly. You saw Azula watching anxiously so eventually looked away "yes fire lord Ozai" and lowered your head. "Good" Ozai replied. You doubted you had a choice. “You will rest and prepare for tonight”. “What’s tonight?” you asked and Ozai smirked cruelly “why our victory party of course”.

Azula’s POV

After you left Azula stayed, anxious to hear her father’s praises but they never came. “She is your responsibility” he said simply and Azula looked up “the princess?”. “Well who else?” he snapped “it was stupid bringing her here, you should’ve killed her when you could”. “I couldn’t...there’s no way the city would’ve allowed it, they would not have surrendered if we harmed her, the only way to assure victory was with her help”. “She is not broken and that is a problem” Ozai glared “it will be your job to break her, if you fail or if she causes even a whiff of treachery....you will face the consequence” he glared “yes?”. Azula bowed her head “yes father”. Her father made a noise and swept past her, stepping on her sleeve as he passed. Azula frowned wiping away the dirt and stood up. If you were her responsibility then she had to make sure you behaved, she had work to do.

Your POV

You were led through another maze of corridors until you were eventually released into your room. As prison cells went it was beautiful. Large and tastefully decorated you found yourself admiring the room when suddenly the door was thrown open. Servants brought in boxes and boxes of supplies and you frowned “what is all this?”. “Clothes” Azula said appearing “you need to look nice for the firelord’s presentation tonight, the servants will choose what you are to wear and help you to get ready”. “Because I am incapable of doing that myself?” you asked and Azula glared. “Because this is too important an alliance to fail, you have no idea about fire nation customs or our traditions so if I were you i’d take every slither of help I could get...”. Azula backed away from you and went to leave but you weren’t done. “The dai li, where have you sent them? Tell me or I won’t go near any of these outfits”. Azula rolled her eyes “I have taken some for my personal protection but others will be deployed however I see fit”. You shook your head worried for the guards that had left their families because you said to. “I want to have some with me, I want them to be alternated regularly so I might make sure they are being treated well”. Azula glared “you are not in the position to bargain with me”. “Am I not?” you asked “you’re smart but you know if anything happens to me...if word gets back to the dai li or to Ba Sing Sei....your alliance falls away, what would your father think of that?”. You’d picked up on Azula’s fear of her father and felt bad using it on her but given what she’d done to your people you thought it fair. The servants all paused at the mention of Ozai and looked at you with obvious astonishment you’d dare test the princess but you didn’t care. If you were so important as Azula claimed she couldn’t touch you. With visible effort Azula’s shoulders lowered and she met your eyes. “I will see to it you always have a guard of four and they will rotate monthly, now is that all?” she asked sarcastically. You nodded your head and Azula strode from the room pushing over a servant that couldn’t get out of her way fast enough.

You unsurprisingly couldn’t rest and the ball came quicker than you expected. Before you knew it you were poked and prodded into a traditional earth kingdom dress nobody even wore anymore and thrust into the middle of the fire nation nobility. You were forced to sit by the firelord’s side for the duration of a large feast where he basically paraded you around as a trophy. He claimed you were allies working to strengthen your kingdom but you were a prisoner. Pretending to not be livid was hard and you took solace hoping your people were safe at least. That’s all that mattered.

Azula’s POV

"I feel sorry for her" Ty Lee sighed watching you “she looks so...awkward”. Azula glanced over to you and realised her friend was right. Despite looking every bit the beautiful exotic princess with a wide smile on your face your eyes were betraying you. You were miserable. “Well duh” Mai replied “do you think she’s happy to be here?”. The nobles had all certainly taken to you but Azula guessed that hadn’t helped. You were dressed in traditional earth kingdom clothes and primped like a delicate thing to sit in a display case. Azula noted you did look radiant and beautiful but you had been just as stunning when she first saw you in trousers and a loose tunic only that’d hadn’t looked half as forced. This, with your hair twisted up into an odd position and a corset squeezing you into a ridiculous shape, didn’t look like you at all...just a basic princess of the earth nation.

Azula watched as her father leant in to say something to you and you flinched away repulsed. You were still smiling but it was very clear you detested him. Her father either didn’t notice or didn’t care and he kept his close proximity to you. Azula thought it unwise for her father to keep pushing you, she wasn’t sure how long it’d be before you earth bent his chair away from you for coming close to you. Azula supposed that would be bad for appearances so made her way to her father. “Father” she said bowing “may I make a suggestion?”. Ozai nodded and she moved closer. “Perhaps if y/n could move around the room...people could see her better and it would look like more of an alliance, I could show her around if you liked?” she whispered. Ozai thought before nodding “yes that is a good idea”. Azula nodded and went to step towards you when Ozai cut her off “Zuko” he said turning to his son further down the table. Zuko jumped up and rushed over “yes father?”. “Y/n wishes to stretch her legs, take her for a walk around the room, give her a whole tour of the palace if you wish just make sure everyone sees the two of you together” he said pointedly. Zuko lowered his eyes and nodded “yes father”. You had evidently overheard and stood up as soon as Zuko looked at you. You rushed away from Ozai so quickly Zuko followed you in a daze.

Mai’s POV

Azula returned to Mai and Ty lee and she she evidently noticed Mai’s expression. “I didn’t mean for that to happen...”. “No, I knew it was only a matter of time before your father put his plan in place” Mai sighed. There were already chatters about you and Mai knew Ozai was anxious to assimilate you into the fire nation. An obvious and simple way would be to link your blood line to theirs and given you were only one year younger, you and Zuko seemed the obvious option. “I told you that won’t happen” Azula said sharply “she’s a princess she won’t be sold off like cattle”. “You sure about that?” Mai asked as the whole room followed you and Zuko with their eyes, whispers breaking out everywhere. Mai wasn’t so sure Azula was right this time. A marriage would so neatly tie up this whole business, any children you had would have claim to both the fire and earth nation meaning the fire nation could legitimately take over half the four nations. With you help Ozai wouldn’t even have to wipe the earth kingdom out, he’d more than double his population and reach an insane amount of power. Mai couldn’t see how he would resist that and so watched you warily.

Your POV

You’d only been in the fire nation a day but you were painfully aware of Ozai’s plan for you and so you were wary of Azula’s brother but honestly he seemed just as scared as you. He led you outside in silence, past all the people who muttered just loud enough for you to hear. He stopped at a balcony in full view of them all and silence settled. You were aware he probably also knew what his father had planned and were pleased he also seemed opposed to it. “So...how do you like the fire nation?” he asked awkwardly and you paused. “I honestly don’t know what to make of it, I haven’t been let out of my room all day so I haven’t had much chance to look around”. Zuko looked at you awkwardly “ow”. “Ow” you agreed and silence settled. Finally Zuko sighed “look I have to mention it...I know what my father has planned as do you...but I didn’t ask him for it and I won’t be speeding up the process I can assure you...er no offence”. You smiled surprised at his honesty “none taken, it’s a relief to hear you say that...no offence”. Zuko smiled dryly and silence settled again. You were confused by what Zuko had said though, why was he acting like he didn’t have a say? You were a prisoner but he was a prince, why didn’t he just tell his father no? “Not to sound rude but can’t you do something about it?” you asked suddenly and Zuko jumped. “Me? what makes you think I can do anything?”. “Well you’re the first born and the future king! Can’t you...refuse or something?”. Zuko laughed “things must’ve worked differently in your kingdom but here...lets just say speaking out against my father isn’t an option”. You frowned disheartened and Zuko touched his scar nervously before sighing “we should move around, my father wants them to see you...”. Zuko led you back into the party and you felt like a show dog being paraded around. You followed him dutifully until Azula appeared. “Princess Y/n” she said nodding to you “brother” she said sharply to Zuko “father has retired”. Zuko looked up and sure enough Ozai’s throne was empty. “He has?”. “Clearly” Azula snapped before turning to you “all he asked is that you stay at the party until the end but that does not mean you have to spend it with my brother, I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone” Azula smirked. You smiled without meaning to but immediately felt bad for Zuko. The prince scoffed and barged past his sister most unimpressed and Azula laughed. “Not the most charismatic” she told you “but then we can’t all be so lucky to be blessed with people skills”. “You have people skills?” you asked and Azula narrowed her eyes, “just because I wasn’t trained to be a pretty smiley princess like you doesn’t mean I can’t handle people, i’m very good at getting what i want...you’re proof of that”. “Me?” you asked confused and Azula smirked “do you think you’d be here if I didn’t want you here?” and walked away leaving you confused.

1 week later

You soon realised you’d been premature to complain about your treatment on your first day in the fire nation. The day after the party you were awoken early and forced to dress and show your face around the fire nation nobles. Then you were drilled incessantly by some twin women about everything fire nation. The correct titles to use, who you must bow to, how you must style your hair....the list was endless and the women cruel and harsh. Your days were spent being prodded around by them, your evenings been paraded around whatever formal event was being thrown and the fire nation seemed to have an endless amount of events to prove their honour and pride. You soon caught on that the events were merely a way for Ozai to force you and Zuko in proximity to one another and so in response you tried avoiding the prince as much as was humanly possible. In truth you had nothing against Zuko, he seemed fine but you didn’t want to encourage any more contractual alliances, a marriage least of all. The only good thing about the situation was Zuko wasn’t the only fire nation royalty around. Strangely Princess Azula had been...helpful in that respect. Anywhere Zuko could go so could Azula, so anytime Ozai demanded Zuko go somewhere just so he could force you to do the same, Azula would also show up. So what would’ve turned into a date was just a royal outing. Even tonight, the fire lord had purposefully attempted to seat you and Zuko at the centre of the table. Azula had swiftly placed herself in the centre instead, both of you blocked by her and you found it rather entertaining. She was definitely the brains of the fire nation and for whatever reason she did not support a union between you and her brother.

Azula was oddly the member of the royal family you saw the most. On your “royal outings” you and Zuko largely ignored one another and with Azula and Zuko not getting on, it would be the two of you trading quips or light insults at one another all day. She’d also regularly appear in your schooling sessions too and when she did the women were a lot nicer to you. They obviously wanted to impress the princess and needed you to do that so went from shrieking furies to kind old women. You began to look forward to Azula’s visits in your lessons and found her presence oddly comforting in certain situations, like the formal events. Nobody dared approach you when Azula was next to you and it was refreshing. In her presence you were protected from the stares and rude behaviour of the fire nation nobels who had gotten bolder with their behaviour to you. Zuko would just look away but Azula would directly challenge anyone who showed you disrespect. She claimed it was because disrespect to you was disrespect to the fire lord but you weren’t so sure...there was something oddly endearing deep down in the princess. You didn’t see it often but when you did...you liked it.

But Azula wasn’t often vulnerable and you more often saw the harsher side of her, especially if she was in a bad mood and particularly if you were too. The two of you would clash and after a hard day of training you suspected the same could happen tonight. You’d had a bad day from being summonded to oversee the contract of your alliance you had no control over to the painful dress you’d been placed in tonight but the worst bit was Azula hadn’t shown up to your training session like she did every week and your teachers had taken it out on you. So you were already slightly miffed at her when she sidled up beside you in the throne room.

You were stood watching the other nobles lost in thought and clear confusion showed on your face. "What’s wrong with you...never been to a party before?" Azula asked. "Not one like this" you admitted and glanced at Azula. You were annoyed to see she looked nice (as always) but she was constantly dressed so formally. You hadn’t once seen her in normal clothing and it seemed as if the fire nation lived in formal wear. “So what’s with the face?” Azula asked jolting you out of your theory. "Is there no dancing in the fire nation? I’ve been here over a week and not once has anyone danced at any of these things" you said dismissively and Azula smirked "you like to dance?". You shrugged "my uncle loved it as did Bosco...it was infectious everyone would get up and dance too" you smiled at the memory "but here nobody seems to do much smiling or laughing…do you know how?". Azula narrowed her eyes "maybe if your city focused less of bears and parties it wouldn’t be ours now". You’d provoked her with your comment but you hadn’t meant to make her so angry. You’d learnt her temper could be far more fragile than your own but you were sick of appeasing it. She needed some to snap back at her and you’d give it her. You sighed deeply and glared "don’t pretend you won on merit alone you got lucky...the avatar gone, long feng over thrown, it wasn’t all your talent that won you the city and what was the point of it all anyway? Even with my city the fire nation’s still a miserable place. Nobody here seems happy or to like each other. That’s probably why you focus so much on other nations but what happens when you've conquered the world and you’re all left to your unhappy selves? At least we were happy on our own could the fire nation say the same?".

Azula’s POV

You turned and strode away before Azula could reply and she slammed her drink down in response. How dare you get the last word! It angered Azula so much she tried looking for you to continue the argument but couldn’t seem to find you. She was sure you’d disappeared on purpose and that made her even angrier. You were so spirited and had such a sharp tongue, it matched hers and that infuriated her. She had to admit you were similar to her in many respects and that made her both interested and agitated by you. "Princess Azula" a servant called and Azula snapped "what?" she yelled and the man cowered "your father wishes to speak to you and your brother...before the contract signing with princess y/n tomorrow". Azula straightened and ignored the people looking at her. She made her way to Ozai’s throne room and was annoyed to see she was the last one there. "Ah finally" her father called and Azula resisted the urge to point out if he’d have told her earlier she’d have been on time. "The contract is all drawn up, we will present it to y/n tomorrow. AIl the agreed terms are there plus an added clause for us". "What sort of clause?" Zuko asked and Ozai glanced at him "a clause that ensures y/n will always be of use to us". Azula found said clause and tensed, the clause basically signed your life over to the fire lord, he could use you however he saw fit. This meant Ozai could do whatever he wanted to you and it would be part of your alliance. Azula knew exactly what her father had in mind and he was stood across from her. Zuko looked at Azula confused as she stared at him and Zuko went to say something before she looked away. "It all seems to be in order why don’t i take it to her tonight?". Ozai shook his head "no it needs to be overseen by officials so there can be no question of it’s legitimacy". "We have a room full of them, i can get it sorted for you by tonight why wait for tomorrow?". Ozai frowned before nodding "why not" and handed it to her. Azula nodded in relief and clutched the document to her chest "i will return for you to sign it after y/n has" and she set out to find you.

1 hour later

Two dai li agents and two fire nation nobles gathered as your witnesses. You and Azula stood beside one another as she explained the terms to you. Hearing her voice made you angry again so you just sighed "give it here". Azula paused "but i haven’t finished". "I don’t care i know what we agreed to and i know the fire nation is stubborn so you obviously put it all in there, i read it before i don’t need to read it now". Azula shrugged and handed it over. You signed it and managed not to flinch as you saw your name printed on the line. "Done" you said "i’m officially fire nation property". Azula didn’t reply, she stared at the contract her mind clearly elsewhere. "Azula?" you asked and she looked at you "what?". "I was saying...never mind, can i leave?". Azula nodded her head "yes" and she sushed from the room.

That night

You were still moping in your room unable to get any sleep when you heard yelling. Your room was annoyingly close to the firelord’s and so you could hear when he was in a mood and that was often. However this one seemed particularly bad. You heard many feet running past your room to his study and frowned. You opened your down and called to one of your guards “what’s going on with the fire lord?”. The guard frowned "i shouldn’t say princess". "Is it bad?" you asked as doors slammed shaking the palace "can you tell me that at least?". The man frowned and you looked at him, he was one of your dai li, a man named Guomir that you had known since you were a child. “Guomir please?” you asked. You kept your gaze on him and he eventually sighed rolling his eyes “okay but don’t tell anyone I told you”. You smirked and gestured for the him to come into your room. He shut the door and turned to you “If the rumours are to be believed it is in relation to your treaty". "What" you cried "but i haven’t done anything, i signed exactly where they told me to". "There was a hidden clause it seems and fire lord Ozai thinks you betrayed him over it". "Hidden clause?" you asked "but i didn’t even write the contract!". "Yes but he thinks you have wormed your way to those who did, it has ruined his plans for you". "What clause is it?". "A marriage clause, it prevents your marriage to the prince of the fire nation permanently".

You were called to the throne room an hour later despite the time and you walked in with your head held high. You saw the two officiates who had been there when you signed the contract and neither of them dared to meet your eye. They stood close to the princess Azula terrified and you were sure they both figured you were doomed and you supposed you were. You’d been summoned so abruptly you knew this wouldn’t be good but you surprisingly weren’t scared. You kept your head up as a few more people appeared in the room and then the doors were sealed shut. The fire lord entered and you managed not to jump as he slammed the door. "Lets not waste time, do you wish to confess?" Ozai barked at you. You stared at him and shook your head "i had no part of this, i signed where you told me to sign". "So you expect me to believe as the only person to gain from this you didn’t do it?". "She didn’t" someone spoke up and you froze. "I added it" Azula said simply. There was silence and then suddenly Ozai reacted. “Leave us” he yelled and you saw Azula flinch despite her brave face. The men filled from the room leaving you, Azula and Ozai. "Azula! You know what this marriage could’ve done, why did you do this?". "Because y/n is more use to us than as Zuko’s wife, she is a princess and we have her loyalty, we don’t need to hand too". Ozai rolled his eyes "but whoever else she marries has claim to the earth empire that could sway her loyalties. A marriage would’ve fixed that". "No it never would’ve ensure her loyalty and actually could’ve resulted in the opposite. The earth kingdom would know her and Zuko didn’t fall in love within a week, they’d see you were selling her off like cattle and we could’ve lost the city. We have her contractual word, we do not need anything else". “If she ever shows questionable loyalty” Ozai yelled in Azula’s face “I won’t just banish you, your fate won’t be that kind...do you understand?”. “Yes father” Azula said and she stared at the ground. Ozai pushed her and stormed from the room. You watched as Azula unclenched her fists and her hands shook in fear. She was terrified of her father and she risked his wrath for what possible reason?

You intended to find out but Azula didn’t seem keen on sticking around. “Azula” you called but she strode from the room following her father. Nobody telling you not to, you rushed after her calling her name. You caught her arm and she pushed you away “leave me alone I saved you what else do you want from me?”.  "An explanation, why did you do it?" you asked angrily "what do you want in return". "In return?" Azula asked confused and you nodded "well you don’t strike me as a person who does anything without expecting something in return. You must want payment". Azula’s angry expression relaxed and she looked at you "you're right i don't act for no reason but i do not expect payment actually". Your jaw dropped and it took you a few seconds to form a sentence "but....why?". Azula smiled and went to walk away. "No” you said grabbing her arm “please don’t...you’re the reason i’m here but you’re also the only one who acknowledges me and not just as someone to sell off...just tell me why you did it”. Azula brushed your hands off her and carried on walking. You sighed in defeat when suddenly she looked back “are you coming or not?”. You smirked and rushed after her.

Azula led you around the palace grounds and you stared like a tourist. You’d not been allowed free reign of the palace and so this was the most you’d seen of it. You were happy to walk in silence but Azula seemed to want to answer your last question. "I don’t agree with arranged marriages" she said suddenly "my father’s first attempt to arrange one for me was when i was 12, he said he would wait a few years of course but he was still planning it all out" she spat "so i made him a deal, if i finished at the academy with the best record anyone had ever seen, beating any man or woman who came before, he would postpone his plans. He agreed smugly and i smashed every single record ever set in this nation" Azula grinned "he never brought up the marriage again". You laughed "that’s amazing...how did you do it?". "I guess i’m just the best the fire nation has ever seen" Azula boasted and you found yourself agreeing "you must be...that or you’re the most determined one to ever exist. Either way that’s impressive". Azula stared at you as you said that making you blush at her smirk. "I know" she replied and you realised you’d reached the corridor of your apartments "it is late you should retire”. You nodded your head unable to meet her eye and Azula smiled “goodnight princess". She bowed never taking her eyes off you until she had to and when she did you felt cold. The princess may be hard to read but she was making things interesting. She was quickly becoming your favourite thing about this damn nation and something told you that wouldn’t be changing any time soon...

-----

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 21/23

This fic is next on my list to complete, so wish me luck! Last time, Gold and Lacey danced, and Lacey got Gold to agree to be interviewed. Here's what happened next :)

[AO3]

-

Lacey smoothed her dress over her hips, turning this way and that before the mirror. She was wearing a white summer dress with a flared skirt, her feet in white strappy wedges and her hair tied up. It wasn’t the sort of outfit she usually wore to conduct interviews, but there again this wasn’t one of her usual interviews. She was not about to ask one of Storybrooke’s elderly residents about her success in growing pumpkins or making preserves. She was going to be asking Mr Gold about his life, interests and passions. And with any luck, she’d be able to experience a few of those passions for herself.

She hadn’t seen Gold since the dance, but she could still remember the way he had felt pressed against her and the scent of his cologne in her nose. She had been excited about the interview ever since, and the possibility of getting even closer to him once it was done. Ruby had teased her only a little before telling her to remember to take condoms. Just in case.

She took a final glance at her reflection, nodded decisively, and snatched up the bag with her recording equipment and notebook, throwing the strap over her shoulder. Let’s do this.

The walk to Gold’s house from her own took less than a minute, which gave her no time to be nervous, and she stomped up onto the porch and knocked on the door. He answered promptly, a tiny smile on his face, and she felt her heart thump at the gleam in his eyes.

“Miss French,” he said pleasantly. “Do come in.”

He was wearing one of his suits, black with a dark blue silk shirt and a burgundy silk tie. The shirt had a faint damask pattern, and she found that her eyes were scouring it, running over the lean lines of his body. She hurriedly raised her eyes to his to find him gazing at her steadily. Lacey bit her lip, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“Hey,” she said quickly. “Uh - thanks for agreeing to do this.”

“You were rather persuasive, as I recall.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she said, and he chuckled, stepping aside to let her in.

“I thought we could use the study for this,” he said. “It’s down the hallway and to your left, but you’re welcome to look around.”

She sent him a smile, stepping past him and hearing him close the door behind her with a soft click as she moved left.

“I was just making some tea,” he said. “May I offer you some?”

“Uh - yeah, thanks.”

He nodded and turned away, and she heard the click of his cane as he headed for the kitchen. An open door led to the lounge, and she couldn’t resist taking a look inside, trying to imagine him relaxing there, with a book and a glass of whisky, and Darcy curled on the rug at his feet. The house was as she imagined, clean and neat, filled with beautiful things, and somehow out of its time. It smelled of beeswax and leather and some woody, earthy scent that she couldn’t quite place. The furniture seemed to be entirely antique, gleaming wood and polished brass and silk brocade, shelves set with porcelain figurines and delicate glass vases.

Lacey stepped back from peering inside the lounge, and headed slowly down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floor. She let her eyes flick left to right, taking in the surroundings as she went, and her mouth curved upwards in a smile as she turned into what he had called the study. Bookshelves covered two of the walls, a bay window looking out over neat gardens and double glass doors which opened out onto a porch. A heavy desk sat on the wall opposite, a brass lamp to one side and a vase of deep red roses on the other.

She could hear him clattering around in the kitchen, and walked slowly around the room, eyes scanning the shelves. He had books on a wide range of subjects: volumes on antiques, art and ceramics took up one shelf, and there were books on history, law and politics. Novels made up the bulk of his collection, from what she could see, a mixture of classics and modern authors. He had three copies of Pride and Prejudice with different covers. There again, so did she. There were even some children’s books on one shelf, and she remembered that he had a young grandson. The thought of him choosing books so that his grandson might one day enjoy them made her smile.

“Here we are, then.”

Gold’s voice and the clink of china made her look around, and he entered the room with a tray balanced in one arm, shaking his head as she hurried forward.

“I’m used to getting around on my own, don’t concern yourself,” he said, and bent to slide the tray onto the small table in the bay window. The teapot, cups and saucers wobbled a little, but nothing spilled. Relieved, Lacey turned back to the bookshelves, eyeing a carved wooden bookend in the shape of an owl.

“You have some nice things,” she said. “Stock or personal?”

“Most of it’s personal,” he said from behind her. “I do rotate a few pieces between my home and the shop, but I find that if I like something enough to bring it into my home, it tends to stay there.”

Lacey turned on her toes to face him. He was standing by the window, both hands on the handle of his cane, watching her.

“Well,” she said. “I guess we should make a start.”

She spent a couple of minutes setting up her recording equipment and taking out her notebook and pencil. There were two chairs in the bay window, wing back armchairs in oxblood leather that creaked as she sat down. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, and she shifted position, tugging at the skirt of her dress and arranging it over her thighs. Gold lowered himself into the chair opposite, and Lacey pressed play on the recording equipment.

“Interview with Mr Gold, Sunday, July eighteenth at”—Lacey checked her watch—”four-oh-nine.”

She sat back and crossed her legs, meeting Gold’s eyes.

“Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mr Gold,” she said.

“My pleasure, Miss French.”

His voice was a low rumble, and Lacey squeezed her thighs together, clearing her throat as she did so. She wondered if he knew the effect his voice had on her.

“I thought we’d start with some of your personal history,” she said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Ask your questions,” he said.

“You promised to answer all of them, right?” she said, and he lifted one shoulder and let it fall in a lazy shrug.

“A deal’s a deal.”

“Right.”

Lacey glanced down at her notebook, where she had scribbled some of things she wanted to raise.

“So, Logan Gold, born in Glasgow, moved to the US in 1993,” she said. “Studied first at Oxford, then at Harvard, and became a lawyer. Got married, had a son and eventually obtained full custody following a pretty vicious divorce. Worked in New York for several large legal firms before settling down in the sleepy small town of Storybrooke in Maine to run a pawn shop. Quite a change of pace.”

A flick of Gold’s eyebrow was the only indication of surprise.

“You’ve done your homework,” he observed, and she shrugged.

“That’s my job.”

Gold raised a finger.

“You forgot to mention my extensive property empire,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to stroke your ego, is that it?”

He showed his teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to be accused of being anything but thorough.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “You run a pawn shop and own most of the property in town, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Well, we seem to have concluded the whistle-stop tour of my life,” he remarked. “Perhaps the interview is over.”

“Hey, not so fast!” she said immediately, making him grin. “I was just getting the dull stuff out of the way.”

Gold inclined his head.

“Ask your questions, Miss French.”

“Okay.” Lacey glanced down at her notes, her heart thudding a little. “Uh - what made you move to the US?”

“Work, mostly,” he said. “As you have already mentioned, I studied law at Oxford, and knew I wanted to pursue it as a career. I was fortunate enough to get a scholarship to study at Harvard, and I’ve been in the US ever since.”

“How easy did you find it to adjust to living in a new country?”

He pulled a face.

“It wasn’t so bad,” he said. “Perhaps because I was so busy with my studies, and then work. I didn’t have a lot of time for anything else. I think maybe it was harder to adjust when I moved out of the city. Being in New York is nothing like being in Storybrooke.”

“In what way?”

“Every way,” he said. “The pace of life is far slower, which is mostly a relief, but irritating when you want something done quickly. People are friendly, and want to get to know you. They stop to talk to you in the street, and greet you with some sort of sincerity.”

“The horror,” she remarked, and he grinned.

“Let’s just say I never did get used to that side of things.”

“Never tempted to move back?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I’m content to stay here.”

“And what about going back to Scotland?”

“I’ve been back a few times,” he said. “It’s changed a lot over the years. I still like to visit, but my home is here now. I’d only go back if my family decided to.”

“Your son, right?” she said. “And you have a grandson.”

“Yes. Henry.” Gold smiled faintly. “My son and his wife have spent their entire lives in the US. They’re very settled here, so I can’t see them wanting to leave, and I would never leave without them. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Miss French.”

Good.

Aloud she said: “Family’s important to you, then.”

“The most important thing in my life,” he said, with a sincerity that touched her. “I know I’ve made a lot of money, and when you consider where I came from, I imagine I’ve made a success of my life. But my family is what matters.”

Lacey tapped her pencil against her lips.

“You never remarried,” she said. “Why not?”

Gold didn’t answer immediately. He sat forward, reaching for the teapot. Lacey watched tea pour in a thin, amber stream, and he pushed a cup and saucer towards her before adding a little milk to his own tea and stirring.

“I believe you used the words ‘vicious divorce’,” he said. “I have to say that is something of an understatement. I’m afraid it rather put me off the idea of relationships.”

Lacey felt something inside her turn to stone and fall into the pit of her stomach.

“Oh,” she said. “Completely?”

Gold pulled a face, taking a sip of tea.

“Let’s just say that my son and daughter-in-law have been pestering me about dating for years and I have only recently started to entertain the idea.”

He held her gaze for a moment, and Lacey felt her heart lighten.

“Sounds as though they care about you a lot,” she observed, and he smiled.

“Yes. As I tell myself when I find their interference particularly irritating.”

She chuckled a little, and decided to change the subject.

“So why antiques?” she said, and Gold smiled, setting his cup in its saucer.

“Antiques give you a taste of other people’s lives,” he said. “Each piece in my shop has a story behind it. Someone owned it before it came to me. Perhaps it was a cherished object, set on a shelf of a display cabinet and taken out and admired. Perhaps it was wrapped in newspaper and shoved into a packing crate and ignored. Either way it’s all history, all a part of other people’s existences.”

Lacey smiled, somewhat entranced by the sound of his voice.

“It’s strange,” she said. “I didn’t think you liked people all that much.”

That tiny smile again.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t find them interesting.”

“But to go from being a top lawyer to running a shop,” she said. “It must have been a hell of a change of pace.”

“The shop’s just a hobby, really,” he said. “I enjoy it, but it’s not where I make my money. The rental business is my chief source of income, and what takes up most of my time. Scheduling repairs, arranging for renovation, that sort of thing.”

“So, no plans to expand outside Storybrooke?” she asked, and he let out a short laugh.

“No no, I’m trying to concentrate on the town itself,” he said. “You may be aware of the local entrepreneur fund that the Mayor set up last year. I’ve donated to that and provide business advice to some of those that signed up. I’ve also been involved in refurbishing some of the old warehouse buildings near the harbour. Looking to attract some local businesses there, revitalise the area.”

Lacey nodded, reaching for her tea and taking a drink.

“Very generous of you.”

“If the town prospers, so do I,” he said. “It’s good business sense, that’s all.”

“Right.” She took another drink of tea. “So we’ve covered your family, your work. I'm interested in going back to your early years, but let's deal with the present for now. What do you do in your spare time?”

Gold sat back a little, pursing his lips.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing very exciting,” he said. “I read a lot.”

“So I’ve seen.”

“I like to cook,” he added.

“Even when you’re on your own?” she asked. “I don’t know, I’ve been living alone for years, and sometimes it’s all I can do to throw a pizza in the oven.”

His mouth twitched.

“Well, food is a sensual pleasure,” he said, the tone of his voice lowering again. “It’s important to take your time. To savour it. Sometimes the most enjoyment comes from the time and care taken in its preparation.”

She was almost certain he was flirting with her.

“Time and care’s all very well, but if the execution sucks it’s wasted effort,” she said bluntly, and Gold grinned.

“Practice makes perfect.”

“True enough.”

He was still grinning, and she felt as though she was about two minutes away from launching herself at his crotch. She looked down at her notes to refocus.

“Okay, quick fire round,” she said. “Ten questions, don’t think too hard about the answers. Ready?”

He blinked at her, but nodded.

“Go ahead.”

“Sweet or savoury?”

“Sweet.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Tea.”

“Cats or dogs?”

“I have to choose?”

Lacey nodded in acknowledgement.

“Okay, that’s fair. Cats and dogs both rule,” she said. “Winter or summer?”

“Winter.”

“Okay…” Lacey pretended to be checking her notes. “Legs or boobs?”

“What?”

“I told you, don’t think too much!”

“Uh - legs.”

“Favourite alcoholic drink?”

“Single malt whisky.”

“Favourite thing to eat?”

The flick of an eyebrow.

“Are we talking food?” he asked, his voice a low purr, and Lacey squeezed her legs together.

“You have a dirty mind, Gold.”

“You could only consider that comment dirty if your mind was also dirty.”

“Just answer the question!”

“Lamb slow-roasted with rosemary and lots of garlic.”

Lacey felt her mouth water.

“Ugh, that sounds delicious!”

“It is.”

“Okay, focus!” She rolled her eyes, more at herself than him. “Boxers or briefs?”

He grinned at that, eyebrows twitching.

“Boxers.”

“Favourite place to visit?”

“Scotland.”

“Who do you miss right now?”

“My son.”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. Gold was wide-eyed and looking a little shell-shocked, as though he couldn’t believe that she had asked the question and that he had answered it. Lacey smirked, tapping her pencil on the notepad.

“Well,” she said. “That’s out of the way, then.”

Gold was silent for a moment.

“I’m going to have to insist that that question and its answer don’t make it into the Storybrooke Mirror,” he said evenly, and Lacey grinned, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, and noting the way his eyes followed the movement.

“Believe me, that’s just between us,” she said, and he looked amused.

“Thank goodness for that.”

“You’re a pretty private person, huh?” she observed.

“Extremely.”

“Don’t want anyone in town knowing your business.”

“Takes the mystery out,” he quipped.

“Uh-huh.” She sat back. “So why did you agree to do this interview?”

A tiny smile made his eyes gleam.

“Perhaps I enjoyed our time together the other night.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?”

“It would have surprised me a few weeks ago,” she admitted. “Our first meetings weren’t all that promising, remember?”

“First impressions can be misleading,” he said.

“I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence, and Lacey looked him up and down very deliberately.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she said. “I want to have sex with you, too.”

Gold stared at her for a moment, and then barked a laugh.

“That wasn’t a joke,” she said, and he shook his head, waving a hand.

“No, it’s just that Emma—my daughter-in-law—she said you liked me. And she knew I had feelings for you. She knew before I did.”

“She probably knew I liked you before I did, too,” remarked Lacey. “Are we both wilfully blind, or just dumb?”

Gold laughed at that, his eyes twinkling.

“Perhaps a little of both,” he said. “Although in our defence we didn’t have the most auspicious start, did we?”

“I don’t know, I got to see you naked,” she said. “Got that out of the way.”

Gold laughed again, and Lacey put her head to the side.

“So when did your opinion change?” she asked. “Pretty sure you found me annoying as hell to start with.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, grinning. “I’m not sure when it changed.”

“How did you know it had?”

Gold sucked his teeth, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before looking back.

“I had a very vivid dream about you one night that caused me to reevaluate how I felt.”

Lacey sat forward, feeling her mouth drop open.

“A dream?”

“Very. Vivid,” he said, enunciating each word, and she felt curiosity surge in her.

“What happened?”

Gold chuckled deeply.

“Oh, I’m not telling you that.”

Lacey gave him a flat look.

“Do I need to remind you about the deal we made?” she asked. “You said I could ask you anything, and you’d give me an answer.”

Gold sat back, running his hands over his face with a grumbling sigh before looking through his fingers at her.

“I didn’t mean sex dreams,” he said, his tone muffled.

“Then you should have made that an explicit term, Mr Hot-Shot Lawyer,” she countered. “And you can’t drop ‘sex dreams’ on me and then say nothing, no fair.”

He sighed again, and let his hands drop to his lap, his expression one of rueful amusement.

“Fine,” he said. “But turn off the tape.”

Lacey reached for the recording equipment, smirking at him.

“What’s the matter, don’t you trust me?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s more the unintended consequences of having this conversation recorded that’s bothering me. Fate has a twisted sense of humour, after all. With my luck it would accidentally end up being broadcast on Radio FTL’s Good Morning Storybrooke in place of the weather forecast, or something.”

“True enough,” she agreed, and switched off the recording before setting her notepad aside and turning to face him. “So. About this dream.”

Gold grumbled again.

“God, this is excruciating,” he muttered, and Lacey smirked.

“Well, you know what they say,” she said. “If you’re uncomfortable, just picture your audience naked.”

Gold stared at her, and burst out laughing again. Lacey grinned.

“Good, I can make you laugh,” she said. “Come on, tell me how we got our sexy on.”

“God, that makes it sound even worse,” he sighed.

“I’m waiting.”

Another sigh, and he ran a hand over his mouth, shaking his hair back.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “I dreamt that you came to the shop while I was going through my ledgers. You were dressed in a - uh - very tight black dress and very high heels, and you took my hand, led me into the back room, and - and went down on me.”

He seemed uncomfortable, his eyes looking everywhere but at hers, as though he were ashamed. Lacey pursed her lips.

“Huh,” she said. “I think I’ve had that same dream.”

Gold laughed out loud, shaking his head and grinning.

“You constantly surprise me, Miss French,” he said.

“Good.” Lacey pushed slowly to her feet. “Let me see if I can keep doing that.”

She took a step towards him, then another, and sank down on her knees on the rug, sitting on her heels and putting her hands on his thighs. Gold’s breathing had quickened, his nostrils flaring a little, his eyes dark and deep.

“So,” said Lacey softly. “I got on my knees, hmm?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

She slid her hands slowly up his thighs, rising up on her knees and gently pushing his legs apart.

“Like this?”

Gold swallowed hard. His hands were resting on his thighs, the fingers twitching a little, as though they ached to touch her.

“A - a little.”

“Hmm.” She shifted forward, pushing between his legs, hands sliding further up until her fingertips brushed along the edge of his waistcoat. “And then what happened?”

Gold licked his lips, his breathing unsteady.

“To my great regret,” he said. “I woke up.”

Lacey let out a soft laugh, catching his eyes with hers.

“Well then,” she said. “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

She had shifted forward, her body pressed up against his groin, her fingers stroking his sides, and her mouth was almost close enough to touch his. His breath was cool against her lips, the tip of his nose just brushing against hers, and her heart was thumping hard in her chest.

“Improvise,” he whispered. “Yes.”

His hands slid up her sides, fingers trailing over the curves of her hips, her waist, her shoulders. Her own breathing had quickened, the throb of her pulse heavy in her lips, her throat, her groin. She gently brushed her lips against his, pulling his breath into her lungs, tasting his scent on her tongue, and when she opened her eyes his gaze was dark enough to make her shiver.

“Take me to bed,” she said, and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, his mouth twitching.

“Yes, Lacey,” he breathed. “Yes.”

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Four: First Day

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

Angel leads Scully out of Ricky’s office and back down the hall, pointing to various doors.

“Here are the customer bathrooms, we don’t use these. That’s the exit to the lobby, but we have our own door in the back. Through here is the floor.”

Angel makes no mention of the other, unmarked doors in the hall. She pushes the “Enter Here to be Dominated” door open and they walk into a large room with the floors and ceiling painted black. To the left, there's a long bar that covers nearly the entire wall with at least twenty stools butting up to it. Directly across from the bar on the right wall, there’s a small round stage with a gold pole erected in the center. A shallow counter, just wide enough to set a cup, runs along the entire perimeter of the stage with chairs neatly pushed in against it. A mental image of herself on the stage while men look on flashes in her mind and she shakes her head gently, forcing it away. Along the back wall are several small partitions; little rooms constructed out of dark red curtains that are currently pinned open to reveal a loveseat and table in each one. The rest of the room is filled with small black tables and chairs, and can probably seat upwards of 100 people. Angel leads Scully to the left, approaching the bar.

“Back here is the bar, obviously, and this is Queenie, our lead bartender. Queenie, this is Diane, Ricky just hired her,” Angel continues.

A tall Asian woman stands from behind the counter holding a case of Jack Daniels. She has wide, round eyes and a diamond-cut chin, her full lips painted dark red and her black hair tied into a high bun.

“Hey,” she replies, “is Diane your stage name? You’re getting soft, Angel,” she teases, casting Angel a flirtatious smile.

“Oh, no, we actually haven’t gotten that far yet,” Angel replies before turning to Scully, resting one elbow on the bar top. “So while you’re waitressing, you’ll talk to Queenie a lot. She can make any drink under the sun. Tip her out twenty percent of whatever you make.”

Scully nods and wishes she had something to write all this down. Between the new terminology and rules, she's already getting confused and is bound to make a mistake. Angel leads her to the other side of the room and climbs gingerly up onto the stage.

“This is the stage, duh, and this is the pole. We call him Paul, the pin to make it spin or stationary is down here,” she leans and points to a small pin at the base of the pole.

“Oh!” Scully exclaims, “I guess never realized the pole spins.”

“Common misconception,” Angel goes on, wrapping her knee and elbow around the pole and spinning a couple slow rotations as she speaks. “But that’s why you don’t want to put oil or anything slippery on your legs or arms. You need to be able to get a good grip, especially while the pole is spinning. We’ll talk more about that later, come up here.”

Scully baulks and looks around, but climbs onto a chair, then the drink rail before finally getting to the stage itself. The room looks even bigger from up here.

“So, just from a Bird's Eye view up here,” Angel continues, “those seats against the wall back there at the end of the bar we call the rock section. Dudes just grab a seat and order a soda and then nurse it all night. Never pay for dances, never come to the tip rail, nothin’. Just sit there like a damn rock. It can be a fun challenge when you’re waitressing to try to get them to buy more drinks, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Tip rail?” Scully asks, sensing that this will be something she has to do a lot.

“Right, these seats right here,” Angel points to the seats that are lined up along the perimeter of the stage, “are the tip rail. You have to sit here or be close to it in order to tip stage dances, hence the name. Something else you’ll hear is doing a mini-lap, which is just when you let a guy at the tip rail motorboat you or put his face in your ass or whatever. Usually you’d do that when they give you a really fat tip.”

“I thought Ricky said the men aren’t allowed to touch you?” Scully clarifies, subconsciously rounding her shoulders and crossing her arms protectively.

“Ah, important distinction. WE can touch THEM, but they can’t touch us. So like, I can rub my tits on a guy's face, but if he grabs them, he’s toast. There are some limits to that I’ll tell you about later, but you can’t give a good lap dance without touching so we definitely touch, it’s just always us who does it, not them.”

Scully is impressed by the degree to which Ricky seems to embrace the “women in control” model, but she’s curious to see whether it’s all talk.

“So that middle part with lots of small tables,” Angel is now pointing to the middle of the room, in front of the rock section, “that’s usually where the whales sit, like Mr. Keane. They’re too classy to sit at the rail but you can still see pretty good from there. And lastly, over there,” she now points to her right to the small curtained rooms, “those are the VIP rooms. We’ll talk more about those later too when we talk about the rules, but they’re basically where customers can take a girl for a private dance.”

Scully feels a pit in her stomach. No matter what rules they have in place, there is no way she can be safe behind a curtain with a man who is paying to access her body. Her distress is interrupted by music suddenly pouring from the speakers at an obscene volume, making them both jump. It cuts off as quickly as it started, and Angel turns to look at a small raised booth behind and to the right of the stage.

“What the fuck, Ben?!” she shouts, raising her arms in an angry gesture.

“Sorry, Angel, my bad!” A thin Asian man with a narrow face and a goatee waves down to them apologetically.

“That’s Ben, the DJ. He’s not usually so obnoxious,” Angel says to Scully, then turns and shouts up to Ben. “This is the new girl, Diane!”

“What the fuck kind of stage name is Diane?” He calls back down. “Also, hi, I’m Ben,” he adds, waving again. Scully smiles warmly and waves back.

“We haven’t picked her name yet!” Angel shouts back. “We really need to pick your name, girl, this is getting old fast,” she says to Scully.

“Um, this may be a strange question,” Scully starts, “but, is everyone who works here Asian?”

Angel looks off into space for a moment, lost in thought. “No, but everyone here right now is, huh?! That’s a weird coincidence. Anyway, Asian is a big group. Denny out front is Samoan, which is actually Pacific Islander. Queenie is Vietnamese, and Ben is Japanese. And Ricky is white as fuck,” she bursts into a fit of giggles at her own joke.

“And what about you?” Scully asks her.

Angel turns and starts to walk away from her, casting a coy glance over her shoulder. “I’m whoever you want me to be, Baby,” she says with a flirty lilt in her voice, before adding “come on, I’ll show you the back.”

“The back,” accessible by a door just behind the stage, is a long hallway with restrooms, a staff locker room, a break room with a kitchen, and a dressing room for the dancers.

“So, I’m gonna show you the dancer’s room now, just so you have an idea what you’re working towards, but just FYI that they really don’t let the waitresses come back here. After this I’d keep your ass out if you don’t want to get torn a new one,” Angel advises her.

The dancer’s room is modest in size with mirrored stations set up along two walls and a small bank of four more in the middle of the room. Each station is slightly different, but most have a makeup kit, hair products, and a box that locks with a code to store cash tips. Three of the stations sit empty. Along the back wall are four doors, and along the left wall is a double-height clothes rack full of straps, sequins, lace, and mesh of all colors. While the floor had smelled like cleaner on top of stale beer and sweat, the dancer’s room is sweet and perfumed with hints of vanilla and cinnamon.

“What’s through those doors?” Scully asks casually.

“The second one on the left will take you outside, that’s the one we can use to come and go without having to go by the customers,” Angel answers. “There’s another one of those at the end of the hall out there you can use while you’re waitressing. The door on the far right is a single stall bathroom. The other ones are storage or something, I don’t know. They’re locked.”

Scully gives no reaction to this information but makes a mental note of it for later. After they look at the general staff locker room and the kitchen, Angel plops down at a table near the fridge and Scully follows suit, taking the seat across from her.

“So, before we go grab lunch, let’s figure out your stage name so we can introduce you to people properly,” Angel begins. “There’s kind of a tradition here that your stage name starts with the same first letter as your real name. I don’t know why, and people will say it’s not a ‘rule’ per se, but if you don’t do it it will probably seem weird.”

“What’s your real name, if that’s okay to ask?” Scully inquires nervously. Not having real names will make this whole investigation a lot harder.

“Oh no, it’s fine. They aren’t a secret or anything, we just don’t like the customers to know our real names. My name is Ann. So Ann/Angel, both A’s. Queenie’s real name is Quyen. You can ask any of the girls and they’ll tell you their real name if you want. Except maybe Lexie, she’s a stuck up bitch. So I’ll just tell you now, her real name is Leanne.”

Scully laughs good-naturedly, though she has the passing thought that a lot of people may describe her as a stuck up bitch too.

“So, something that starts with a D, what suits your fancy?” Angel asks. Seeing the worried look on Scully’s face, she makes some suggestions. “You could go with a classic, like Diamond. Something a little more stereotypical like Destiny. Oh, what about Desiree, that’s really pretty, and it suits you.”

Scully considers it for a moment. Who she’d really like to be is Dana, on her way home from this insanity. Given that isn’t an available option, Desiree isn’t so bad.

“Yeah, I think I like that,” she says with a shy smile.

“Great, can I call you Desi?” Angel asks excitedly.

“Sure,” Scully responds, and then follows a very spirited Angel out into the afternoon sunlight in search of something to eat.

They end up at a little Mexican restaurant a short walk from the club. It’s the kind of hole in the wall place that only locals know exists, with tacky pink paint on the booths and dusty Cinco De Mayo flags criss-crossing the ceiling.

“So, Angel, how’d you end up working at Damsels?” Scully asks as she drags a tortilla chip through the watery salsa. She’s highly motivated to solve this case and get the hell out of here, so there’s no sense in wasting time.

“Oh, I just met Ricky through mutual friends and he told me about his club. I was a dancer at a total shithole before, so coming here was such a huge relief.” She stabs at the ice in her drink with a straw, breaking it up into smaller pieces.

“Are you working towards something else, or is there something else you’re hoping to do?” Scully asks next.

“I might ask you the same, Desi,” Angel returns with a slight cock of her head, and Scully realizes that was a rude question.

“Sorry, I guess I still have a lot to learn about the social nuances of this job.”

Angel shakes her head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a question you get asked a lot as a dancer, as you’ll find out. Everyone thinks you’re just stopping here on the way to something better, something more legit. God forbid your life plan is to show your ass for cash, right? I mean, that is true for some of the girls; Tibet is getting her masters and Magenta has a day job as a therapist, but I honestly just like it.”

Scully is more careful with the wording on her next question. “What do you like about it?”

“Well,” Angel takes a bite of a chip and chews thoughtfully, “I grew up with really judgmental, uptight parents who basically made me feel like I was dirty and disgusting for existing, and for being female. I was always really ashamed of my body and when men looked at me, I thought I was doing something wrong to bring it on myself. After I moved out, my friend took me to a strip club and I was totally blown away by the confidence the women had with their bodies. Men were looking at them, but not like they were gross and sinful, just like they were…beautiful. And they looked so powerful up there commanding all that attention. And I just wanted to be up there like that, celebrating my body and deciding what happened with and to it. And here I am.”

Scully sits quietly, absorbing an answer that she wasn’t expecting to hear. She thinks about her own upbringing and the “good girls don’t” mentality that tainted her early sexual exploration. Even as a fully grown adult in consensual, committed relationships, she couldn’t shake the underlying guilt that she was worldly and sinful for desiring and having sex outside of marriage. It bleeds over into her relationship with Mulder, she knows. She can accept any physical attention he bestows upon her, and in fact wants it desperately, but for her to initiate it would mean…something. Something she isn’t ready to admit, even to herself.

Angel speaks again, interrupting her thought. “What about you, Desi, what brings you here? I showed you mine, you show me yours…or whatever.”

“Oh,” Scully says, scrambling to bring her cover story forward. “Um, I, uh, I got divorced recently, or I’m legally separated, anyway. I just got my own place after living with my husband for seven years and I haven’t really worked that whole time, I just supported his work. So, I don’t really have any marketable skills.”

Angel smiles. “Shoot, that ass is a marketable skill, girl! Those titties are hella marketable.”

Scully blushes, unused to anyone talking about her that way, and is surprised by how flattered she feels by such a crass compliment. Their server arrives and sets their plates down, and Angel’s demeanor shifts a bit as they dig into their meal.

“Okay, so down to the nitty gritty. Like I said, there are rules for us as dancers, and for waitresses too. Ricky mentioned his feelings about heroin and meth, right?”

“Yep, that will not be an issue,” Scully says confidently, spearing a bell pepper with her fork.

“Good, so also don’t get, like, super drunk or super high while on shift. A little to take the edge off is okay, but a drunk stripper is just pathetic. Like I said, the men can’t touch us, but it’s okay for us to touch them, EXCEPT we do NOT do extras at Damsels. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, and definitely no fucking, not even in VIP. Not in their car outside, not behind the dumpster, it’s a very hard and fast rule, no pun intended. Ricky will fire even his best girl in a heartbeat if he finds out she’s doing extras. Oh, and no kissing.”

Continue Reading on AO3

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt19

hello hello hello! i hope you guys liked that last chapter :) thank you so much for reading and i hope you have a great day!! pls share if you can :)

pt1

pt18

pt20

(Y/N) hugged each and every one of her friends as tightly as she could. What they had all been preparing for over the past year had finally been achieved. There was still more work to do, but it made her heart swell knowing that they had each brought fantastic change into the world. 

The sun shined through the tall windows, rousing (Y/N) from her slumber. She groaned and turned over in her bed, throwing her arm over her eyes. A knock came from outside of her door. 

“Miss (Y/N)!” One of the servants called. 

“Five more minutes,” (Y/N) grumbled, sinking further into the comfortable sheets and pillows. After sleeping on the ground for almost a whole year, she found it nearly impossible to get out of her bed in the mornings. 

“You instructed me last night that if you said five more minutes, I shouldn’t back down. Today is Prince Zuko’s coronation day.” 

(Y/N) eyes popped open and she sat up quickly, sliding out of bed. She threw on her robe and stumbled over to the wardrobe. “I’m getting ready now, I’ll be out in a bit! Is the prince up yet?” 

“No, Miss.” 

“Fantastic! I’ll wake him up today, alright?” 

“Yes, Miss.” She heard the servant’s footsteps travel down the hall. (Y/N) flung open her wardrobe to pick out the outfit she had chosen for this day. It was a traditional formal Fire Nation outfit: a maroon colored dress with dark, pointed shoulder pads. She dressed and tied her hair back in a topknot, letting the rest flow down her back. Her arm bandages only barely peeked through the sleeves of her dress. 

She exited her room and walked down the hall. It had been a few days since her fight with Azula and it was surprising how different everything already was. The last time (Y/N) was in the Fire Nation Royal Palace, she was a young girl. She had been in Zuko’s room, begging him not to partake in his first Agni Kai. Back then, the walls had been filled with anger and secrets. Now, as she walked through the halls of the palace, everything felt oddly new. It was like the end of the war had changed the entire atmosphere. 

Since her return to the Fire Nation, (Y/N) had taken on the role of being Zuko’s chief advisor. After the defeat of Ozai and Azula, both she and Zuko weren’t quite sure who in the Fire Nation they could really trust. So, (Y/N) had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had been to the palace frequently enough over the past few years to be able to pretend that her presence required respect. When Zuko had too much on his plate, she was there to make the decisions that reflected his and the nation’s best interests. It made her happy to know that she was making a positive change, especially when her best friend was at her side. 

She walked all the way across the palace, to the Fire Lord’s chambers. She knocked loudly against the door and waited for any sounds. When she heard nothing, (Y/N) pulled open the heavy wooden doors and found Zuko still fast asleep. 

“Up and at em! It’s coronation day!” She shouted, taking a pillow from underneath his head and hitting him with it. Zuko groaned in protest, flipping over on his stomach to hide his face. 

“I don’t think this is the way to treat a Fire Lord,” he grumbled into his sheets. (Y/N) began pulling at his legs. 

“Well, it’s a good thing you won’t be Fire Lord until later today.” She pulled again, letting out a grunt before giving up. “You ask me to stay in the Fire Nation with you to help you bring back peace and now you won’t even listen to me when I try to do it!” 

“How is waking me up early bringing back peace?” 

“It brings peace of mind to me knowing that you won’t sleep through your coronation.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t have all day but I’ll cancel whatever I have to do in order to get you out of bed. Would you like me to sing you a song?” 

Zuko sat up quickly, holding his arms up in defense. “That won’t be necessary! You can leave now!” (Y/N) grinned and walked to the door. 

“Happy coronation day, Fire Lord Zuko,” She said softly. He returned her smile and with that, (Y/N) left to ready the palace for their guests.

Her first stop was the kitchens to ensure that they were preparing enough food for everyone they would be hosting. Representatives from each of the four nations would be coming to celebrate Zuko’s coronation and it was absolutely crucial to both Zuko and (Y/N) that unity be at the forefront of everything they do. So she had invited chefs from the nations to recreate some of their most popular foods. She was sad that she could not invite anyone from the Air Nomads, but she was assured by her chefs that they would try her best to make the culture’s most traditional foods. 

(Y/N) passed by the pots in the kitchens and gagged as she smelled the sea prunes steaming. She absolutely hated them, but she knew they were a Water Tribe delicacy. She just hoped that no one would offer any to her. 

After she stopped by the kitchens, she walked the servants through the timeline of the nights’ events. They would begin with Zuko’s coronation, then the courtyard would quickly be turned into an outside dining area so that everyone could mingle and enjoy themselves. Afterward, she and her friends would have a private celebration with Zuko to celebrate him and his accomplishments. 

“Are you doing my job for me?” (Y/N) paused as she laid out the courtyard blueprints for one of the servants. She turned around and smiled when she saw Zuko, fully dressed in his royal garments. He had pulled his hair back into a topknot that (Y/N) considered to be the cutest thing ever. 

“Someone has to do it while you’re sleeping the day away.” She dismissed the servants, leaning against the table of the meeting room. “What’ve you been up to?” 

“Some council meetings with leaders of the other nations.” Zuko sighed, leaning beside her. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” 

“We do. But we’ll do it together.” She leaned on Zuko’s shoulder and closed her eyes as he leaned his cheek against the top of her head. Much more had changed than just their place of residence. (Y/N) realized that while she had fought Azula so furiously because of what she had done to Zuko, there was also a deeper reason of why she was so angered. As she watched Zuko lying on the ground, practically dying, she realized that everyone had been right. The feelings that she felt for Zuko surpassed friendship. She loved him and she had loved him for a very long time. 

It was unfortunate that it had taken her until he was mortally injured to realize it, but better late than never, she supposed. 

She was scared to tell him though, which baffled her. She had fought for her life on multiple occasions, survived prison, and defeated one of the most powerful benders in the entire Fire Nation...but she still couldn’t tell her best friend that she was in love with him. 

“Wanna come out to the courtyard with me?” Zuko stood. “Everyone should be arriving soon.” (Y/N) nodded and followed him through the palace and to the steps of the main courtyard. Just as they walked outside, Appa landed in the middle of the courtyard with Aang, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Momo in tow. (Y/N) and Zuko wore bright smiles on their faces as they waved to their friends. The last time she had seen any of them was the day of the comet. While that had only been a few days ago, this was the most time she had spent apart from her friends in a very long time. She ran to the courtyard to greet them as they stepped off of Appa, with Zuko trailing behind. 

(Y/N) hugged each and every one of her friends as tightly as she could. What they had all been preparing for over the past year had finally been achieved. There was still more work to do, but it made her heart swell knowing that they had each brought fantastic change into the world. 

“You look so different,” Sokka exclaimed, admiring her traditional Fire Nation robes. (Y/N) beamed up at him. 

“I used to dress like this all the time before I ran off with you hooligans. Do you guys want a tour? I can’t wait to show you where Zuko and I grew up!” 

“Maybe a little later,” Zuko cut in. “Aang and I have an important meeting to get to.” He gave her an apologetic look. 

“Oh, right,” (Y/N) said, but the excitement didn’t fall from her face. “Very important Fire Lord and Avatar stuff.” She turned back to Sokka, Katara, and Toph. “How about you all come with me to the kitchens? You can taste the food we’ve been preparing and let me know if it’s good enough to serve.” 

“Sounds great!” Toph cheered. “I’m starving. Someone ate all the seal jerky on the way here.” 

All three girls looked at Sokka, who shrugged. “I’m a growing man!” 

(Y/N) led them into the palace. They marveled at the ornate architecture on the inside, and at the portraits of past Fire Lords. Katara halted the group to look at the blank space on the wall of Fire Lords. “What happened here?” 

“We took down the portraits of Sozin, Azulon, and Ozai,” (Y/N) explained. 

“Why?” Toph asked. 

“Zuko and I agreed that we didn’t want our nation to forget its history, no matter how horrible it is. But we also didn’t want to honor those three when all they’ve done was cause pain and suffering.” She pursed her lips as she stared at the empty space. “I’m working on hiring a painter for Zuko, but he’s always so busy.” 

“Are you like Zuko’s assistant now?” Sokka questioned. (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I do the things he doesn’t necessarily have time for, so I guess. Really I just consider myself his friend.” 

“His friend?” Katara asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Katara, his friend,” (Y/N) said, but the two best friends exchanged a knowing smile that told Katara everything she needed to know. (Y/N) turned quickly on her heel to lead them down to the kitchens. They ate to their hearts content and only barely left the kitchens in time to make the coronation. 

Katara and Sokka stood at the front of the Water Tribe guests with their father. Toph stood at the front of the Earth Kingdom guests with Haru, the Mechanist, and other friends from they had met. (Y/N) stood at the front of the Fire Nation guests, exchanging smiles and greetings with the nobles who were willing to hear Zuko out. 

If she squinted, she could see Zuko standing inside the palace. He looked hesitant, as if he were scared, and (Y/N) cursed herself for not being up there with him. She could have coached him through this or cheered him on. He paced back and forth as he waited to be called out by the Fire Sages. (Y/N) felt herself smile at how nervous he was. Zuko was confident, but never cocky, and it was one of the things she loved most about him. 

Right before it was time for Zuko to walk out, (Y/N) watched as Mai walked up to him. The two exchanged a kiss, resulting in the biggest smile being put on Zuko’s face.

(Y/N) looked over at Katara, whose wide eyes and open mouth let her know that she was just as shocked. But she had no time to react. She swallowed her feelings deep into the pit of her stomach and cheered like everyone else did as Zuko walked out to be crowned Fire Lord. 

---

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie , @haylaansmi , @jada-cleo , @boxofteenageideas , @disgruntled-gay , @lie-ana , @jasmine-the-amazing , @svsoftie , @buckysfeet , @anime-simp , @imcravingyou , @rosetheshapeshifter , @alrightberries , @izzieserra , @hstott , @random-stupid-stuffs , @jackbamexpress , @jainaixo , @thefoxskinwalker , @kryptidkova , @bigbuckyenergy , @omgwhattheeven , @ohmigooosh , @snapchatisoverrated , @inlove-maze , @harapirena , @sooske , @sweeetteaa , @selenvx , @ilovespideyyy , @saaaasib , @mochminnie , @agentsofblinks , @happyariesbabey , @slytherky , @uglipotata72829 , @og-disaster-bi , @animeluver23 

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Twelve ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3433

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity if you prefer!**

A/n Sorry for the delay! Thanks for your patience and for reading :) Also, I’m so glad you liked the cuteness of the last chapter <3

I wake to an insistent pounding on my door.

I grumble against the noise and the sunlight, pulling the thick duvet over my head.

“Cosima,” a voice sings from behind the wood. “Rise and shine, it is well past lunchtime.”

I crack open an eye. The sun shimmers aggressively, forcing me into a state of awareness. Too early. But Rumil’s wake-up calls and knocking are insistent, so I haul myself out of bed and dress quickly, running a washcloth over my face and a brush over my teeth. When I’m decent, I swing open the door to fix Rumil with what I hope is a withering glare.

He grins brightly. “You look tired.”

“Wow, thank you,” I deadpan, opening the door wider to allow him in. He jaunts to the chaise lounge and reclines on the pillows, evidently in the mood to borrow the luxury of my guest room.

I offer him a glass of lemon water and pour one for myself, then sit on the couch opposite him.

He gives me a sly look. “You know, Haldir came into our room quite early this morning.”

I freeze mid-sip.

Rumil nods gleefully. “Woke me up—quite rude, if you ask me. Though I do have to wonder, what kept him out so late? Surely he was exhausted from his long day at the borders.”

I take a deep breath, trying to relax the tension that has shot its way into my shoulders. Rumil just likes to tease. You didn’t do anything wrong or scandalous — not even anything of interest.

He continues. “And then I come to visit my friend out of the goodness of my heart and find her sound asleep at two in the afternoon. She greets me at the door with such dark circles under her eyes — did she sleep at all? What was so interesting that kept both my brother and my good friend awake into the early hours of the morning?”

I roll my eyes, trying to seem nonchalant about it. After all, there’s no reason to feel cornered like Rumil is so obviously trying to achieve. “I couldn’t sleep. I was on my way to the gardens when I ran into Haldir and he ended up coming with me.”

“To the gardens?”

“Yes.”

“Late at night?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, Rumil,” I huff.

He looks positively delighted. “And what did you do to pass all that time in the gardens late at night by yourselves?”

I squirm under his gaze then force myself to stop. It looks suspicious. “We talked a little. And then stargazed. At some point I fell asleep, he woke me up and walked me back to my room. The end.”

“The end,” Rumil echoes dubiously.

“Yes,” I insist, just about done with this conversation. It’s ridiculous — we did nothing to warrant this questioning. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask your brother.”

“I did.” My eyes blow wide in disbelief. Somehow, Rumil looks even more smug than he did a second ago. “He quite forcefully told me to leave him and you alone. Such a strong reaction over a little thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

I fight the urge to groan loudly and instead take a sip of my water. I cross one leg over the other. “Is there something you would like to say or are you just here to interrogate me?”

He shrugs, looking completely unapologetic. “No, I think I am done for now. I’ll let you know if that changes, though.”

“Please do,” I snark.

He stands, placing his glass on the table. “I did actually come here for a larger purpose. Orophin and Lavandil went riding and missed lunch, so we’re having an impromptu picnic in one of the towers. It has some lovely views. Would you join us?”

The emptiness in my stomach begs me to agree, but the word ‘tower’ gives me pause. Rumil guesses the direction of my thoughts and huffs. “The tower is encased in stone, it is perfectly safe. You would have to jump onto the barrier and lean over to be in danger of falling off.”

I consider his words. That doesn’t sound too bad, and I am hungry. “Alright,” I agree. “But I’m inviting Alex.”

Rumil makes a noise of general acceptance and gives me directions to the tower. Before leaving, he snatches one of the thicker quilts from a storage basket. “Cost of attendance is the blanket we use to sit on. See you there!” With a cheeky wink, he disappears, leaving me feeling whiplash from the quick turns in our conversation.

Before leaving to find Alex, I pull a few pillows from the seating area. They’ll make for some extra cushion on the hard stone. And, since Rumil annoyed me, he will not be getting one.

Ha.

At my knock, Alex throws his door open, greeting me with a wide smile. “Hello, Cosima.”

Well, that’s not what I was expecting. I blink and step into his room, careful not to tread on one of the many books and scrolls scattered around the floor. “Uh, you’re more chipper than I thought you would be after yesterday. How are you doing?”

He shrugs, throwing his hands into his pockets. “I mean, it didn’t feel great to find out that Elrond can’t help us, but I am holding out hope for Lady Galadriel. In the meantime, though, I’ve borrowed some materials from the library to see if there’s anything I can learn to help in getting us home. Most of them are in that Elvish language—Sindarin—so I’m having to learn the basics of the language first. Baranor offered to help — we’re meeting this evening after he’s done with his shift in the healing wards. Want to read the English ones with me and then come along? I’m sure he’d be fine with teaching you, too.”

“Um…” I trail off, feeling guilty. I’m attending a picnic with my friends while Alex is pouring over resources and learning the language of this land — he’s doing something helpful to try and get us home.

But if I’m being honest, I don’t want to do research right now. It’s not like there’s likely to be anything we could do, anyway. The best option is to just wait for Lothlórien and see what Lady Galadriel says. I clutch the bulky cushions tighter in my arms. “Can I take a rain check? A few of us are going to the tower to have a late lunch. That’s actually why I came here. Want to come?”

Alex looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You don’t want to see if there’s something in these books to help us?”

I shift my weight uneasily. “Not now…I haven’t eaten yet, and I already said I would go to the picnic. And I mean, come on, how likely is it that there’s something in those books Elrond isn’t aware of? It’s his library.”

“It has forty-two thousand volumes.”

“He’s lived a long time,” I defend weakly.

Alex’s eyes tighten into a glare.

“Look,” I try, “I’m gonna go eat, but what if I joined you and Baranor this evening? It’s smart to learn the language. And then maybe later I can help you look through these books.”

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders, looking frustrated but resigned. “Yeah, that’s fine. We’re meeting at five-thirty on the second floor of the library.”

“Okay,” I exhale, relived to have avoided a larger argument “I’ll be there. You sure you don’t want to come eat?”

He shakes his head, crouching to the ground to pick up a particularly withered scroll. “No, I ate in the dining hall. See you tonight.”

“See you,” I mumble, backing out of the room. I feel bad for not helping him, but hopefully joining him and Baranor tonight will smooth things over.

Following Rumil’s directions are relatively easy and, before I know it, I’m navigating the hallways to one of the towers built into Elrond’s home.

“Cosima!”

I stop in my tracks and turn at Haldir’s call. He jogs to catch up to me, having just entered the long hallway, and greets me with a pleasant smile. As always, he looks perfectly rested and put together — not a strand of hair out of place. Today he wears a tunic of deep grey, his clear blue eyes standing out in stark contrast.  

“Hi!” I wait for him to fall into step beside me. Unbidden, Rumil’s gleeful teasing enters my mind, and I feel my face go hot. What? I clear my throat. “Are you going up, too?”

“Yes, it’s—here,” he pulls the four bulky pillows from my grasp into his. My arms drop limply at my sides, suddenly relieved from their task. To give them something to do, I tug on the sides of my dress, trying to smooth the wrinkles that have somehow already appeared.

Haldir continues. “Rumil insisted it would be fun and it’s such a nice day I figured, why not?”

We turn a corner and begin our ascent up a tall spiral staircase. I remember a snippet of our conversation from last night. “Has Glorfindel come around?”

The edge of Haldir’s mouth pulls into a frown. “No. I talked with Elrond anyway and he’s agreed to my plan. It has set Glorfindel and myself at odds though, since I went over his head.”

I purse my lips. Though Haldir doesn’t say it, he’s clearly bothered by this outcome — it’s obvious he hoped to resolve things peacefully with Glorfindel and gain Elrond’s support. I hurry to try and make him feel better. “You did the right thing. So what if you went over his head? If it keeps people safe, I doubt it really matters how the plan came to be. And as commander, isn’t it his job to recognize advantageous strategies regardless of where they come from? I wouldn’t worry too much about being at odds with Glorfindel — the two of you will reconcile soon enough. And in the meantime, it’s good that Elrond agreed with you. Now Imladris has more time to better prepare.”

Haldir pauses on the step above me, turning with his head tilted slightly to the side.

I freeze. “What?” Did I intrude? Did I offend him somehow?

“No, it’s—I…” He sighs, offering me a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Oh, good. I breathe out in relief, returning his smile. We resume our climb.

“Elrond gave the order to call up the entire force and rotate the soldiers — they should all be switched in about a week. He’s asked me to oversee their training, to teach the strategies I use with my own guard in Lothlórien.”

I snort. “You’re going to work while you’re on vacation? That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

He rolls his eyes, but the smile never leaves his face. “It’s important and something I enjoy, so I am happy to help. I haven’t forgotten my offer to you, though.”

I furrow my eyebrows. Huh?

“Do you still want to learn how to defend yourself?”

“Oh! Yeah, definitely, if you’ve got the time.”

He steps onto the landing, moving forward to make room for me. “Of course I’ve got the time.”

I step up next to him—

And immediately return to the staircase.

Haldir alternates between looking at me in confusion and scanning his eyes over our surroundings, wondering what would make me practically jump away from the landing.

He doesn’t have to wonder long.

“You said it was encased in stone,” I shout accusingly over Rumil’s wailing laughter.

“Did I say encased? I meant made of. Whoops, my mistake.”

“Rumil,” Haldir grumbles in annoyance, but that only seems to make his brother laugh harder.

The tower is not, as Rumil promised, encased in stone, but rather a circular platform with only a roof and four stone pillars to protect from falling. There is no guard wall or even a thin railing. And we are stories above the ground.

“Cosima, it’s alright,” Lavandil coos, though her encouraging words are damaged by her giggles. “Elves have wonderful balance, no one is going to let you fall. And look—we are set up right in the middle.”

“If it helps, I can shove Rumil off the tower to demonstrate elven reflexes,” Orophin offers through a chuckle.

This does make me feel slightly better, and I crack a small smile. On the step above me, Haldir waits patiently. Maybe I’m just being silly. I take a deep breath and step up to join Haldir on the landing.

And nearly sway in fear.

To my right and left are open sky — and too many feet below, the hard, deadly ground.

I suck in a sharp breath.

Rumil waves in joyful greeting. “Good to see you both. Now do sit down, Cosima, I worry you will faint and tumble over the edge.”

His words resonate with a very real fear and I scurry forward and practically throw myself onto the blanket. Haldir follows closely behind, offering a cushion to myself and Lavandil before using another to hit his youngest brother over the head. Even in my nervous state, I can’t help but join Orophin and Lavandil in their shocked laughter.

“Didn’t our parents teach you not to lie,” Haldir drawls, dropping the cushion to my left and sitting upon it. He tosses the other to Orophin, raising an eyebrow at Rumil as if asking him to challenge his choice.

Rumil grins, completely unaffected. “Then I apologize, dear Cosima, but your face was hilarious. And don’t you know we all like you too much to let you die?”

I huff, rolling my eyes and feeling better as long as I focus on the faces of my friends rather than the nearness of the edge. “Thanks.”

Lavandil wisely changes the subject. “No Alex?”

I shake my head. “He’s doing some research today. I’m supposed to meet him in the library at five-thirty — Baranor’s going to teach us Sindarin.”

A chorus of approval runs through the group.

“That’s a useful skill,” Rumil nods, taking a sip of what looks like orange juice.

“I’d be happy to practice conversation with you once you learn the basics,” Lavandil offers, and I accept readily. From the little I’ve spoken with her, I like Lavandil, and it would be nice to spend more time with her.

Tired of being the focus, I turn the conversation on my friends. I gesture between Lavandil and Orophin. “How did you two meet?”

Lavandil launches into an animated account of her relationship with Orophin from start to where they are now. Apparently, they met eight years prior when Haldir and Orophin were part of a company escorting Lady Galadriel to Imladris. Orophin was taken with her immediately, but it took Lavandil a little longer to come around.

“I always swore I would marry an architect—anyone but a solder,” she laments with comical exaggeration. “But eventually he persuaded me to give him a chance, and I haven’t looked back since.”

Orophin takes her hand in his and squeezes, staring at her like she’s the center of his world.

I don’t want to pry, but I do wonder how elven relationships differ from human ones. Just the time they’ve been courting—eight years—is much longer than I think is the standard for humans. I am lacking in memory, but surely with how short human lifespans are, they get married quicker? I make a note to ask Lavandil or Rumil about this later. Though, with all Rumil’s teasing of late, Lavandil is probably the safer option.

After I learn how Lavandil and Orophin got together, I have a lot of other questions about the lives these friends of mine lived before I knew them. As afternoon passes into evening, I discover that Rumil—unsurprisingly—has been the instigator of no less than four human bar fights, Lavandil once snuck from her childhood home to try and explore the mountains (and was promptly sent back to a furious mother), Orophin is apparently the life of the party after a bottle of Elvish wine, and, in his first few years of the guard, Haldir constantly challenged his superiors, to the point where they would send him off on solo trips just to be rid of the relentless suggestions. Before I know it, the first stretches of sunset streak through the sky and it’s nearing the time I set to meet Alex and Baranor.

I stand, sighing with no small amount of regret. I wish I could stay here with them all night. “I’ll see you tomorrow! I’ve got to get to the library for lessons.”

Rumil waves goodbye. “I’ll drop the blanket and cushions in your room. You know, as penance for tricking you.”

I roll my eyes, concentrating on his face rather than the open sky all too close to my feet. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it, but thank you.”

“Do you know the way?” Lavandil looks up at me with mild concern. I assure her that I’ve visited the library before and am mostly confident in my ability to not get lost.

Haldir wraps an apple and some bread in cloth and passes me the bundle. In response to my raised eyebrow, he quirks a knowing smile. “Baranor is likely to keep you well past dinner. He loves his lectures.”

I chuckle, agreeing that Baranor probably will, and thank my friend. After a final round of goodbyes, I hurry as quickly and carefully as I can to the security of the stairwell and head in the direction of the library.

{***}

Sindarin is complicated. Baranor seems to have an endless reserve of patience — how? I have no clue.

Alex struggles just as much as I do, but it is clear that he is more dedicated than I and pushes to keep his attention into the late hours of the night. I’m grateful Haldir had the forethought to send me with food, as are Alex and Baranor, who share the dinner. By the time ten o’clock rolls around, I’m fighting back yawns. I think I’ve got the alphabet down, though that isn’t even technically Sindarin — it’s the writing system called Tengwar — so I don’t even have any conversational phrases to try with Lavandil.

At midnight, Baranor finally calls it, acknowledging that he will need some sleep if he is to put in a full day tomorrow of researching with Elrond and doing a shift in the healing wards. But he graciously commits to teaching us three evenings a week after dinner and maintains that, after practice and time, we will improve.

We say our goodbyes and I practically stumble out of the library. I can think of nothing more than my plush duvet and cool mattress. Alex, on the other hand, somehow almost vibrates with energy. He seems rejuvenated, renewed, and for the first time, I recognize him as the same man in my memories — no longer is he weighed down by malnutrition, injury, exhaustion, and defeat. But it’s more than that. He’s no longer angry — hope lights up his eyes. He smiles broadly and insists on walking me to my room.

“Worried you’re gonna fall over, Cosi,” he reasons, sending me a wink. Even in my tired state, I have to blanch. It’s like being with a whole new person. But at the same time, I know this person. I like this Alex. At the very least, I know what to expect from him — he’s the friend I remember.

Though I do worry…what will happen to him if this search for answers is a dead end? What if we can’t get home?

I don’t want to think about how he would feel, then.

I don’t want to think about how I would feel, then.

We climb the stairs and reach my door, pausing outside it momentarily. I turn to my friend, giving him a sleepy smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Me too,” he agrees, leaning against the doorframe. “I just needed something to do. Now I don’t feel so helpless. And you’re okay? After yesterday’s setback?”

I sigh against the drowsiness. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Don’t you worry about me.”

He nudges my shoe with his. “Good. Alright, I’ll leave you alone. Sleep tight, Cosi.”

I smile, waving as he walks down the hallway. “Night, Alex.”

Entering my room, I see that Rumil kept to his word and left the folded blanket on my couch with the four pillows stacked neatly on top. Still doesn’t atone for all his foolishness today. Crawling into my bed, I instantly fall asleep.

A/n Thanks for reading! Let me know if you would like a tag :) Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day! 

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

The gang on their wedding days

[Been meaning to post this one for a while — since I’m applying to get married today, now seems like the time.]

Jake steps into the room like a child wandering into his parents’ dinner party.  His bow tie is askew, seams of his jacket misaligned for all that it’s a custom-tailored tuxedo.  If the buttons of his shirt aren’t one hole off from their intended placement, they still manage to convey that impression from across the room.

Rachel feels a rush of affection for him, her first best friend.  The boy who’d run and fought and splashed through mud with her, back before adults started telling her to be careful of her dress and him to be careful of her.  Only he could show up to his own wedding looking like he’s ready to be expelled at any moment.  Only Jake.

And yes, she gets mushy at weddings.  Sue her.

Tom steps up next to Jake, far more elegant in an off-the-rack suit.  Some people actually got the fashionable genes in this family.

Rachel surges across the room.  Tom gets a quick hug, and then she turns all her attention on Jake.

“You only have to look nice for the next three hours,” she tells him briskly.

“Three.  Hours,” Jake repeats.

With expert motions she realigns his… everything, until at the very least the clothes are sitting the way the tailor intended.  She tries to finger-comb his hair, thankful for the heels that put her at an inch above his height, but it’s obvious that he has also been running his hands through it and the style is hopelessly deformed.

“You can survive anything for three hours,” Rachel says as she does all this.  “I’ve seen you do it.”

“But if I mess it up—”

“Then stop, go back, and do whatever it is over.  We’re not exactly on a time pressure, here.  Nobody’s gonna die if you trip at the altar or forget your lines.”

“Okay.”  He stuffs his hands in his pockets, deforming his jacket again.  “Okay.”

She can see him starting to relax as he glances around, shoulders coming down.  Cassie’s place isn’t quite like they remember — it’s been repaired since the war, the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic expanded to nearly five times its original size — but it still feels as close to home as any place does.

“Have a glass of water,” Rachel says.

“But what if I have to pee during the ceremony?”

She rolls her eyes.  “Babysit him,” she mouths at Tom.

Tom gives her a gesture in response that approximates What do you think I’ve BEEN doing?  Whether he means the last four hours or the last twenty-six years is, really, a moot point.

Rachel leaves him to it, and charges off to go check on the others.

************

Marco leans against a tent pole, trying to roll one of the rings across his fingers the way Vegas poker players do with chips.  So far it’s not going well.

“Canapé,” Ax is saying carefully.  He attempts to lean next to Marco, nearly going all the way over.  “Can-nap-peee?”

“Uh, no.”  Marco catches the ring as it makes its third or fourth bid for freedom, stuffing it back into his pocket.  “That…”  He tilts his champagne flute to point.  “…is a canopy.  Or a chuppah, I guess.  Canopee.  Canapay is the little pastry thing you’ve already filched in bulk, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Ah,” Ax says.  And then, “This temperature and rate of precipitation is within optimal survival parameters for humans, is it not?”

“Nuh-uh, Ax-Man, I will not be pulled in by your smooth small-talk skills.”

“Did you not wish to make conversation?”  Ax frowns.  And then he stuffs another canapé in his mouth.  “This is making conversation,” he adds through the mouthful.

Marco squints.  “Is it, though?”

“It is indeed.  Did you know that the rotating-wheel can opener was patented in 1870?”

Marco’s response to that one gets cut off when Rachel comes charging across the open tent space like a small freight train.  Tobias is balanced on her shoulder, flaring slightly as she runs.  She yanks the champagne flute out of his hand.  Marco makes a squeak of protest, but Rachel just sets it firmly on a bussing tray and turns back to glare at him.

“What did we agree?” she asks sternly.

Marco rolls his eyes.  “That I’d stay sober-ish for the toast, and not do anything too embarrassing.”

“You’re the best man.  You have one job, Marco.”

“Excuse you, the best man’s one job was that banger of a bachelor-slash-ette party we did Wednesday night.  Did you like the part where we all dived out of a helicopter and flew clear through the lower atmosphere to that rooftop bar?  Because—”

“So you got the drinking out of your system.  You promised.”

“Sober-ish, come on, it’s just one wine-spritzer-thing!”

Rachel turns away from him, looking Ax over.  “You realize you’re going to have to demorph and remorph at some point before the ceremony, right?” she asks.  “And that when you do, someone’s going to have to go through the whole kit and caboodle of getting you into that tux all over again?”

“Yes,” Ax says.  “Yes, I do.”

She stares at him.  He stares back, looking as innocent as it is possible to look while also chewing three jalapeño pastries at the same time.

«You should probably just listen to her,» Tobias suggests.  «By the way, where’s your date?  Not that I quake in fear for the wedding cake or anything, but, uh…»

“Menderash has been instructed not to eat anything on a human plate without seeking my opinion first,” Ax says, somewhat stiffly.

“Yeah,” Marco says.  “So far he’s only eaten two earthworms, a candle, some decorative sand, and part of Collette’s bouquet.  You two have nothing to worry about.”

“Part of Collette’s bouquet?” Rachel demands.  “We can’t send a bridesmaid up the aisle without—”

“Already replaced it, I am on top of this.”  Marco flips his hair back from his face.  “I am a flower master.”

«So where is Menderash now?» Tobias asks.

“Helping Cassie’s mom,” Marco explains.

«And Cassie’s mom is…?»

“Delivering a baby cow.”

Rachel makes a noise like she’s choking on air.  “Doesn’t Michelle have vet techs for that kind of thing?  She’s supposed to be getting ready, not, not…”

“It’s cool,” Marco says.  “She’s got her makeup on, her hair is done perfectly, she’s got an apron-thing to keep her dress nice and gloves over her nails, it was a breech birth so they needed a real doctor and Walter was busy supervising the caterers, she’s got Menderash and Steve helping her out—”

“She kidnapped Jake’s dad?” Rachel demands overtop the continuing babble.

“He said he had never delivered an offspring outside of his own species before, and expressed deep curiosity on the subject,” Ax offers.  “Menderash is a certified medic with andalite training, so they should be well-equipped to assist.”

Marco makes jazz hands in the air.  “It’s a free pre-dinner show!  Cow birth.  Better than icebreakers.”

There’s a very long pause.  Rather than dignify that with a response, Rachel turns and stalks away.

Marco watches her go, halfway awed at her ability to navigate an open yard so well while not only wearing six-inch heels and a multi-layer floor-length dress, but also balancing an enormous updo on top of her head and a red-tailed hawk on her left shoulder.

“Is it just me, or did Jake and Cassie make a monster when they asked her to be maid of honor?” Marco says.

«You wanna take over her responsibilities, then?»

Of course Tobias heard that.  Stupid hawk hearing.

“No thank you!” Marco yells after them.

Cassie, meanwhile, is currently picking her way across the open space under the tent, bunches of dress hiked up to above her knees.  This last is, of course, the source of Rachel’s consternation.

“Here.”  Rachel attempts to pull the wads of skirt out of Cassie’s hands and drop them back to the ground.  “You’re going to wrinkle it.”

Cassie stubbornly refuses to let go.  “You told me not to let it drag on the ground.  If I let it down, it’ll drag.”

“Cassie, Cassie.  That is a hand-tailored Christian Dior gown that I commissioned to be custom-fitted to your measurements.  There is no way that it is too long if you let it…”

Cassie drops the bunches of tulle.  The end of the skirt falls all the way down, where the bottom two inches rest, unmistakably, on the muddy ground.

Rachel somehow manages to wince with her entire body while also not moving at all.

«It’s a look,» Tobias suggests, by way of consolation.  «Kind of.»

“How…?”  Rachel peers closer at Cassie.  “Wait, where are your shoes?”

Cassie shrugs, embarrassed.  “Uh, inside somewhere.  I was having trouble balancing in them.”

“Well that’s why!”  Rachel’s emphatic gesture almost dislodges Tobias.  With years’ experience, he dodges her waving arm and retains his perch.  “The dress was tailored to fit you with shoes on.”

“They were getting stuck in the grass—”

“They’re kitten heels!”

“Yeah, and they’re still heels.”  Cassie looks stuck somewhere between amusement and embarrassment.  “I don’t really do heels.  Sorry.”

“Hey Tobias?” Rachel says, as if to thin air.

«Nuh-uh, leave me out, I want no part in—»

“Remember me telling Cassie that we should really try the whole outfit on before the wedding?”

«Uh.  Yes?»

“Do you also remember Cassie agreeing to it, and then the day of, haring off to go try and save a bunch of vultures instead?  Remember how we tried to reschedule, and there was that ALF mission on the same day so she never showed?  Remember that?”

Cassie clears her throat loudly.  “I think it’s a very nice dress.  It’s fluffy and also comfortable, and look!”  She tucks her hands away.  “It has pockets.”

«Vultures are actually fundamental for waste disposal in ecosystems all over the world, and the poisons used on livestock—»

“Do you think you could at least wear the shoes long enough to go up the aisle?” Rachel asks.  “And maybe even for a few photos as well?”

 “Uh.  I’ll try.”  Cassie hikes her skirt back up (Rachel full-body winces again) and starts picking her way across the lawn back toward the house.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to un-wrinkle it in time,” Rachel mutters.

«Yep.  So you’re just going to have to live with it.»

“I hate living with it.”

«Wanna go check on whatever monstrosity of a replacement bouquet Marco probably inflicted on Collette?»

“Fine, fine.”

**************

Cassie walks up the aisle in a custom-tailored gown, an edelweiss and valerian flower crown, and slightly muddy Timberland work boots.  The sole on the boots is apparently tall enough that the skirt does, not, in fact, drag on the ground or get tangled in her feet.

«Somewhere out there,» Tobias comments, «Christian Dior is crying into an overpriced silk handkerchief and doesn’t even know why.»

Marco has never more deeply felt the utter unfairness of Tobias being able to use thought-speak while human, because they’re currently standing at the front of the aisle and he can’t even respond.

But Rachel should still count this one as a win.  The gown looks stunning on Cassie, lacy and princess-ruffled while also having the kind of practical cut that allows her freedom of movement.  And, Marco notes with a smirk, freedom to wear her morphing leotard underneath; the purple spandex is just visible peeking out from underneath the white silk neckline.  He’s got morphing clothes under his own tux — never leaves home without ‘em — so really, he can’t judge.

Plus, Michelle’s got her dress and just her dress on by now, and her locs are still tucked into their silver-beaded updo.  Really, the cow birth was just a momentary inconvenience.

“Hi,” Jake whispers, when Cassie reaches him.

She grabs his hand.  Then she stuffs her bouquet into one of his jacket pockets, and grabs his other hand.  “Hi,” she whispers back.

“This is pretty exciting, huh?”

“Yep.”

Ax clears his throat delicately, and they stop talking.

“There is an Earth tradition,” Ax says to the entire assembly, “that the captain of any ship may perform a wedding ceremony at will.”

In the front row of seats, Michelle laces her fingers through Walter’s.

“Although there is no legal precedent for this custom,” Ax continues, “it is nevertheless possible to become ordained as a wedding officiant if one just completes the proper applications.”

One of Jake’s great-aunts mutters something loudly about the lack of rabbi.  Sarah leans over and kicks her in the ankle.  Rachel beams her approval.

“Therefore, I am here to make official through human custom that which has already been forged through affection and respect.”  Ax looks from Jake to Cassie and back.  “The bond between warriors who have fought and faced death together can be neither lessened nor improved upon by mere ceremony.  The honor shared between two such beings who have chosen to risk loving each other in spite of knowing the reality of loss is one that we recognize today.  We can recognize it, but not sanctify it beyond the sanctity of what these two humans have already shared.”

Rachel lets out an audible sniffle.  Marco does his best not to smirk at her.  It’s not that sappy a speech.

“I have been assured that the bond between two humans who like each other far exceeds the bond between those who merely enjoy each other’s company,” Ax says.

And now Marco has to fight the urge to bang his head against the nearest support pole.

“I have witnessed this myself.”  Ax stares around the room.  “I have witnessed compromise and forgiveness, compassion and challenge between these two.  I therefore believe it is correct and proper that this bond be formally recognized by the State of California.  Is there anything you would wish to add?” he says to Jake and Cassie.

Cassie leans up on tip-toe.  Jake bends to meet her.

She whispers her vows into his ear, not bothering to share with the rest of the gathering.  After a moment, tears on his face, he leans in and whispers back.

Recognizing his cue, Marco grabs the rings and passes them over.  They’re boring-looking, in his opinion, plain silicon bands without anything shiny.  But they’re also easy to morph, easy to shovel manure while wearing, easy to wear without catching on anything.  Very Cassie.  Very Jake.

Speaking of which, the Timberlands prove to be a good call.  When the time comes, Cassie stomps the shit out of that ceremonial glass.

**********

In a slight break with tradition, Rachel and Tobias are actually the first ones to go back down the aisle.  Then Marco wheels Collette out, followed by Tom and Melissa, then Jake and Cassie go.  That way, Rachel’s got time to sprint back over to the main tent and check on the banquet.

Most of the tables are arranged correctly, the centerpieces in place and the cards arrayed.  Rachel does a mad sprint of the room, straightening decorations and confirming with the caterers that they got all the instructions about who needs what in their diet.  Between the number of kosher eaters on Jake’s side and the number of vegetarians on Cassie’s, Rachel made the call to go all the way to a fully vegan buffet.  That’s probably going to get some of the relatives complaining about kids these days and rabbit food, but there’s no pleasing everyone.

Rachel deftly switches a few of the placecards, thereby putting Jordan on point to deal with their great-aunt and grandmother who have both already overindulged at the open bar, muttering an apology as she does.  She puts Tobias to work making sure the bows on the backs of chairs are straight, and rushes up to the long table at the front to confirm that the armless chair meant to accommodate Cassie’s bulky skirt is in the correct place.

D.J. is here, playlist at the ready.  Dance floor is clear of grass.  Weather’s holding, but tent covers are on standby.

Slightly sweaty, she rushes back out with a chair under each arm just in time to catch the guests coming across the lawn.

“Everyone except the parents, head off to the cocktail hour!” she calls.  “Jake, Cassie, moms and dads, with me.”

While Marco’s date (a photographer named Dakota) sets up the camera, Rachel goes into a flurry of motion straightening bowties, adjusting hairdos, and touching up makeup.  Steve’s got a spot of cow blood on his forehead, she discovers to her horror, and by the time she’s done scrubbing that off Jake’s managed to get his tuxedo jacket misaligned again.  Finally she steps back, breathing hard, and nods to Dakota.

Everyone smiles.  The camera goes off.

“Okay.”  Rachel claps her hands loudly, because Jake and Cassie are looking ready to stand up and go join the reception.  “That’s one down, just twenty-three to go.”

********

Rather than tossing her whole bouquet all at once, Cassie picks it apart and gives a single flower to every single guest she can find.  When the bouquet itself runs out, she disassembles her flower crown and hands that out piece by piece until everyone’s got at least one blossom.  It just seems fairer that way, she says when Rachel asks.

Several of the traditions, Rachel reflects, seem to be lost on Jake and Cassie.  They cut the first piece of cake… and immediately hand it to Ax.  And then they cut the second piece, and the third piece, and keep right on cutting slices of cake and handing them out to people until Rachel has to step in and wrest the knife away.  She’s grateful that they refrain from any of the food-fighting nonsense, since both their wedding outfits are headed to a charity auction first thing tomorrow morning, but honestly.  They’re supposed to eat the first two slices, not drop half a tier of cake into the black hole of hungry andalite.

Cake served, Marco clinks a fork against a glass.  “Ladies, gentlemen, and proletariats!”

There’s a general murmur as people look around, trying to spot who’s speaking.

With a hand from Jake, Marco climbs bodily onto the banquet table.  “Everyone!” he shouts, and now they’re all looking at him.  At him, and at the champagne flute in his hand.  “Jake and Cassie!”

It gets a polite round of applause.

“Gotta start at the beginning, right?”  Marco looks around the room, grinning.  “So there I am, some snot-nosed three-year-old, minding my own business.  And this chubby, dorky-looking little white kid comes running up to me and is like…”  He leans in.  “‘You wanna be my best friend?’”

He grins at Jake, who is flushing bright red.

“I shit you not, that was his opening line.  ‘You wanna be my best friend?’  So I’m like…”  Marco pantomimes reeling back in shock.  “I dunno man, seems like a lot of commitment to make to a total stranger.  You want explore our options first, maybe get a prenup, see if we’re compatible?  I mean, for all I know five years from now you’re gonna find some younger, hotter best friend and then there I’ll be out on my ear with nothing to show for it.”

There’s a smattering of laughter throughout the room.  Marco visibly draws strength from it.

“But you know what?”  Marco leans down to look around, smiling like he’s got a secret.  “Little dork kept right on showing up to my house and letting me use his television and getting his mom to give me fluffer nutters, and next thing I know it turns out he really is my best friend.  I think he was onto something.

“Anyway, you think that one was bad…”  He raises his eyebrows.  “Couple years later, there we are in first grade, and this girl in teeny-tiny first-grader overalls comes into the room like…”  

Marco claps one hand over the top of his champagne flute and clamps the other under the base, and actually walks a few steps down the table with the determined air of a very small and klutzy version of Cassie.

“And her opening line is…”  Marco raises the flute to his mouth like it’s a microphone, dropping his voice.  “‘You wanna see my moth?’”

Again, there’s a smattering of laughter.  Cassie has a hand over her mouth, halfway doubled over in giggles at the memory.

“Now, us being minuscule and all, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that there was no double entendre going on here,” Marco says.  “And I have to admit, no one has used that line on me since.  So I say ‘sure,’ because I’m like six years old and this seems like a reasonable question.  She lifts her hand up…”

Marco accompanies this with a pantomime of peering through his own fingers into his champagne.

He looks up.  “And it’s not even a freaking moth!” he cries out.  “Turns out, it’s just some little worm thing.  So I tell her.”  He puts on a snotty voice, mocking his younger self.  “‘That’s not a moth, that’s just some little worm thing.’”

There’s a pause.  Marco glances around the room.  “See if you can tell where this story’s going.”

Marco and Cassie glance at each other.  Cassie’s grinning smugly.

“She puts it in the classroom’s terrarium,” Marco drawls.  “It turns into a rock.  Two weeks later, rock cracks open and out pops a moth.”

The room cracks up again.

“So fast forward another few years, and she’s standing there holding this eight-eyed, venom-fanged thing.  And she’s all like ‘just touch the spider, Marco.  Don’t you want to be a spider, Marco?  Isn’t it cute and fuzzy?’  As if she is completely unaware that she’s holding a giant-ass eight-legged freak.”  Marco takes a sip for strength.  “And right then, I look at Jake.  And I’m thinking Jake, don’t ever let this girl go.  Because if she doesn’t even think wolf spiders are ugly, then she’s got no idea about you.  So here’s to Jake and Cassie.  Made for each other, because no one else will have ‘em.”

Jake pokes Marco in the ankle, but he’s laughing as he does it.

“All right,” Marco says, “brace yourselves, and someone get some more tissues for my second mama, because I’m about to get sappy.  I love you, Jean!” he calls.  “I know we all gotta cry it out sometimes.”

She laughs and flaps a dismissive hand at him, but she’s also misty-eyed already.

“Dudes, I gotta be honest.”  Marco is looking at Jake and Cassie.  “I didn’t think we’d get here.  I honestly did not believe, for a good long while there, that there were gonna be any weddings or graduations or driver’s licenses in any of our futures.  Just seemed like a good idea not to bet on any of us having any futures, you know?  Seemed like it might be the surest option.”

Cassie laces her fingers through Jake’s.  Silently, her mouth pressed into a line, she nods.

“So, uh.”  Marco sniffs, spinning back around and thrusting his champagne flute into the air.  “Here’s to me being wrong, yeah?”

“To Marco being wrong!” Jake echoes, and tosses back his glass.

“To Marco being wrong!” the entire room calls back.

Marco jumps back down, Cassie and Jake catching him as he lands.

**********

After everyone but Menderash and Ax has finished eating, it’s Tom who becomes the next one to tink a fork against a glass for attention.

“In the spirit of full disclosure,” he tells the room, strolling slowly toward the head table.  “I promised my brother there wouldn’t be a horah.”  Tom stops, directly next to Cassie.  “But what he didn’t know is that I’d already made a promise to my new sister-in-law that there would be.  So what’s a guy to do?”

He snaps his fingers.

At this cue, several things happen at once.  The DJ switches to “Hava Nagila.”  Several people mob Jake at once.  Tom grabs Cassie and lifts her bodily over his head, carrying her chair and all to the middle of the dance floor.

With a squeak of laughter, Cassie grabs the top of Tom’s head for balance.  Jake is being hauled out next to her on a chair of his own, supported by Tobias and Menderash and Rachel and James.  Marco and Ax are herding the rest of the gathering, shoving people into a circle and linking arms together as they go.

“I hate you!” Jake calls over the sound of the music and his own fit of giggles.

“Gotta keep the in-laws happy!” Tom yells back, unrepentant.

*********

“You sure you’ve got everything you need?” Rachel asks.

Cheyenne, the head caterer, gives her a double thumbs-up.  The staff are tipped and most are ready to go, having divvied up the several extra schaeffers’ worth of falafel and butternut squash puree and other entrees that Rachel’d set aside for them.  Melissa is set to take over tending bar from here, as planned, and she’s going to keep the groomsmen after for a few minutes for cleanup duty.

“Okay.”  Rachel glances around at where the last of the countertops are getting a quick once-over with disinfectant.  “Okay.  If anything comes up…”

“I have your number.”  Cheyenne smiles and nods.

Pushing back out of the room, Rachel heads for the gift table.  Everything looks like it’s in good order, but she wants to make sure it all gets packed up properly and that none of the cards get lost in the kerfuffle.  It’s mostly donation receipts, at Jake and Cassie’s request, but some of the traditionalists on both sides came with soup tureens or the like —

“Hey.”  Jake catches her by the arm.

Rachel turns to look at him.  “What’s wrong?  Is it the great-aunts?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  It’s all perfect.”  He’s smiling shyly.  “Thanks.”

“I need to check on the gifts,” Rachel says, because she’s a coward who doesn’t know how to do mushy conversations, especially not with Jake.

“The gifts are fine,” he says.  “It’s all fine.  Because you made it that way.  So… thanks.”

When he pulls her into a hug, Rachel can’t resist straightening his hair one last time even as she returns the embrace.  “You realize I do this for fun, right?” she asks, holding him at arm’s length and looking him in the eye.  “Like, I could’ve hired a wedding planner, but honestly why bother?”

He shrugs.  “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate everything.  All of it.  Without you, Cassie and I wouldn’t even…”

Then, because this is all getting too honest, Rachel links her arm through his and drags him onto the dance floor for, he’s about to realize, their middle school gym class’s favorite godawful square dance.

*********

When she has do-si-doed Jake within an inch of his life, Rachel tosses him at Cassie.  She pivots around and gives Tobias a flourishing courtesy; he returns it with an equally ridiculous bow.

“It is marvelous, how well they have adapted their balance to compensate for their lack of legs,” Menderash comments to Ax.

“Very true.”  Ax leans next to him against the bar.  They are currently sharing a delicious beverage Melissa has made for them, simply by unscrewing the lid from a nearly-empty jar of olives and handing over the remaining liquid.

It is true, some of the dancers are more talented than others.  Michelle and Walter are synchronized with each other and the beat of the music, even if their choice of moves is not nearly as audacious as the spinning thing Marco and Dakota are doing.  The bride and groom, meanwhile, are looking at their own feet and keep bumping into each other as they move.  Between their relative unconcern with anyone but each other and the broad hem of Cassie’s dress, the other couples are giving them a wide berth.

“Do you wish to attempt such feats?” Ax asks, glancing at Menderash.

Menderash gives a full-body shudder.  He flaps one hand in an andalite gesture that, if translated to English, would approximate fuck that.

Ax grins, drinking more olive juice.

“Have you done such a thing?” Menderash asks.

“Never for very long,” Ax says.

Jake and Cassie have given up on dancing entirely, descending into a giggle fit in the middle of the dance floor as they both attempt to disentangle Jake’s cuff link from the lace of Cassie’s hem.  Rachel swirls by, briefly blocking their view.  She’s switched partners.  Dakota is doing their best to teach Tobias how to waltz while Marco and Rachel are now swing-dancing their way across the dance floor.

As both andalites watch in awe, Rachel spins Marco in a circle, swinging him out and then drawing him back close to her body.  Marco pirouettes, throwing his head back so that his hair flares around his face, and then throws himself backwards.  Rachel catches him neatly around the waist, dipping him nearly to the floor.  Marco braces on her shoulders and she flings him upward with her whole body so that she actually lifts him off the floor for a second before gracefully sweeping him back down.  They separate until just the tips of their fingers are touching, and then spin back together until Marco suddenly swoops under Rachel’s arm, coming up on the far side as she pivots around in time fro him to fall back against her.

Ax is reminded of the way they fight.  There’s something almost joyful in their ferocity on the battlefield.  There’s something almost frightening in their enthusiasm on the dancefloor.  Neither of them seems to know how to do anything by half measure.

One by one the other clusters of dancers have stopped to watch as well.  Jake and Cassie, now sitting hopelessly tangled up in each other, seem quite happy to have the spotlight stolen.

Rachel swoops an arm around Marco’s waist and slides into a back-and-forth tango step.  Within two beats he’s caught on, falling into the same rhythm as her.  When the tempo of the song changes he grabs her shoulder and nudges her into a circular waltz.  They’re unrehearsed, and inexpert, but moving with such force and communicating so rapidly that it doesn’t really matter.

“Yes,” Menderash says softly, “I very much do not wish to attempt to dance.”

Ax smiles at him over the rim of the olive jar.  It’s empty, and in the time it takes him to set it back on the bar and catch her eye, Melissa has replaced it with maraschino cherry liquid.

The song crescendos; Marco leans his full weight back as Rachel flings him into a long spiraling turn that ends with him sliding on his knees clear between her legs, popping up behind her just in time to brace as she tips backward into him.  She spins once, twice, four times, then swings him into a dip so low that his hair brushes the floor.

As the song ends they freeze like that, chests heaving, hair damp with sweat.

They both seem to become aware at once that the whole room’s watching them.  Marco opens his mouth to say something, when Rachel’s smile turns wicked.  That’s the only warning he gets before she opens her arms and lets him drop.  Marco squawks indignantly, throwing out both elbows to catch himself.  He gets ahold of Rachel’s arm and tries to yank her down as well, but ends up pulling himself to his feet as well.

The whole room breaks out into clapping.  Marco sweeps into a low bow.  Rachel visibly considers pushing him over again before deciding against it.  Instead she runs to try and rescue Cassie’s hand-sewn lace hem and Jake’s antique silver cufflinks from their respective owners’ incompetence.

*********

“Hey Tobias?” Rachel says around a yawn.

«Uh-huh?»

Idly they watch as Tom waltzes Cassie’s grandmother around the dance floor.  She’s 4’11” to his 6’4”, so it’s pretty hilarious to witness.  But at least they’re not totally mismatched: each has a single sprig of valerian from Cassie’s bouquet tucked behind one ear.

She and Tobias are sitting on the ground at one corner of the dance floor.  Rachel’s got her shoes off to massage her aching ankles, and Tobias is perched back on her shoulder.  With clever motions of his beak he’s fishing the pins out of her hair one by one, dropping them into her hand as he slowly disassembles her updo.

“How do you feel about never, ever getting married?” Rachel asks.

Tobias drops another bobby pin into her hand.  «Best idea you’ve had all year.»

[heyyyharry]

Love Bites

(a blurb from the “My Girl” Series)

Warning: Smut.

Word count: 2020 (lol)

AU: older!harry, younger!y/n (4-year age gap).

Anon: Hey mg harry making out with bambi and maybe she left some marks on him and thr next day he has to shoot for a naked scene .At first he tries to refrain from opening his shirt but later does and when everyone teases him about it he just gets do smug because he fucked her right. And then maybe telling bambi all about it at night when they're in bed or she is sucking him off. Could u write smthng about it??

.

.

.

One, two, three, four.

Four love bites scattered across his neck. He’d forgotten how long he’d been staring at them as if they would disappear if he looked long enough.

When he returned to the room, she was still perched on the bed, her hair damp and her skin flushed from their intense love-making. She pushed herself up and blinked innocently at him. “What?”

His irritation was easily detectable. He marched toward the bed and pointed to the red marks she’d left on his neck. On contrary to the horror on his face, she fell back, laughing into her palms.

“It’s not funny!” he grumbled, his face growing hot. She caught his wrist before he could storm out, dragged him back to the bed so he could sit on the edge. She scooted over on her knees, hugging his waist from behind, her cheek cool against his naked back.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Was he mad at her?

“I told you not to leave a mark,” he heard himself say and looked over his shoulder to find that she’d pulled back, frowning.

“I didn’t mean to.” She stroked one of the love bites with her thumb. “I’m sure they can cover it up with makeup.”

They could. But it’d be so unprofessional to show up on set with hickies all over and make people wait for you to get it covered up. He wanted to say that, but what came out of his mouth was a dejected sigh.

“I should go.”

As he rose, she moved toward the edge of the bed, looking up at him with her big twinkling eyes. “I didn’t mean it, really,” she whispered.

He considered her puppy dog face before dropping down on the bed and wrapping his arms around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple and gave a reassuring grin to ease her nervous frown. “It’s okay, kid. Might be a bit embarrassing but—” he chuckled, shaking his head. “God, Brian will tear me apart.”

Brian was his co-star, his best friend in the cast, and definitely the type to make plenty of dirty jokes about the love bites once he spotted it. Styles! Brian would call from the dressing room entrance so everyone could hear it, Looks like you had a fun morning, mate!

Harry snorted at all the reactions in the room, now more amused than annoyed.

“You’re sure it’ll be all right?” Bambi asked, eyebrows still furrowed. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”

He squeezed her hands and kissed her knuckles. “It’ll be fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

.

.

.

She couldn’t help but worry about it.

She’d been reading and writing a bit since he’d left, in order to distract herself until he returned. He’d said it was no big deal, but the look on his face had said the opposite. In her defence, she hadn’t been aware of what she’d been doing. She never felt the need to use her head while he was buried deep inside of her, so she guessed it’d been her fault; she’d been careless.

She didn’t know if his contract had specifically stated that he should not get any marks on his body during the shooting period of the film. Even if there was, he still wouldn’t tell her. Also, his manager didn’t like her very much because Harry had dropped so many interviews and photoshoots for her, even before they were officially together. Maybe after this Jeff would hate her even more.

She had no idea when she’d drifted off on the sofa with a book opened and faced down on her stomach. She only stirred awake to the sound of her door being unlocked and opened. She pushed up slowly, stretching her limps as she welcomed him with a lazy smile. The aggression on his face worried her. As he marched toward where she sat, she opened her mouth to ask if he’d got into trouble, but he shut her up with his mouth against her before she could say a word. He gripped her hips, pushing her back on the couch with her head on the armrest.

They only broke the intense kiss so he could pull his shirt over her head and palmed each of her breasts roughly. Her nipples were hard, needy for him. She moaned his name when he kissed down her neck. She was only wearing her panties and he was wearing too much, so she pushed at his chest to get him to rise on his knees, stripped off his jacket and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

She got up to straddle his waist as he rotated to sit with his back against the couch. He gripped her thigh and brushed his nose across her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth. She held the nape of his neck, gasping and tossing her head back.

“What happened on set?” she asked breathlessly. He tried to drag her back in when she pushed away from him, gripping his shoulders. He started palming her buttocks, wanting to pull her to his cock which was poking against the fly of his trousers, but she fixed him with her eyes. “If you got hard after filming a sex scene with someone else, I swear–”

He shook his head rapidly and tried to kiss her again, but she didn’t let him until he answered.

“It’s the hickies,” he admitted, his cheeks flushed, either because he was horny or embarrassed to tell her why. “My castmates teased me for it.”

“And you got smug, didn’t you?” she flashed a grin, stroking his hair. He groaned into her neck and squeezed her bum as she ground her clothed pussy against his cock. She was already soaking through her panties.

“Brian said I must’ve fucked you right. You have no idea how much I wanted to say I did.”

“Why didn’t you say it?” she murmured, her eyes shut as he licked and sucked her neck, probably leaving his own marks on her.

“Not sure if I was allowed.” She felt his smirk against her hot skin as he stroked his tongue over her nipple and licked his way up to her mouth, sliding his tongue over hers. “Does it turn you on?” he whispered. “The idea of me...telling my friends...how hard I...fucked...you,” he said between sloppy kisses.

She couldn’t speak; her mouth was wide open but all she could do was nod. She took no time to unbuckle his belt and got him sitting butt naked on the couch. His eyes went dark, piercing at her as he ripped her panties in half and she let out a frightful scream. Before she could scold him, he shut her up with a passionate kiss.

“I’ll buy you ten new pairs,” he hissed against her lips while rubbing her clit. She was so wet she could hear the delicious sound of his fingers moving against her and then inside her. He pulled out before she could cum and inched his dick into her tight dripping pussy. They both gasped when he was all the way inside with nothing between them.

“Move,” she groaned, frustrated, unable to open her eyes.

His hips stuttered a bit before he started thrusting slowly. “Give me a moment. I don’t wanna cum now,” he chuckled, his face dazed with ecstasy. She ignored his helpless expression and started moving her hips and giggled when he smacked her arse as a warning.

“Do that again and I won’t let you cum.”

She simpered at his empty threat. “You don’t have the power to decide, Harry.” She fucked him slowly, rewarded by the wet delicious sounds coming from his throat. “I can just finger myself on that armchair over there while you watch. Get myself off the way I do when you’re not here.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” she hissed, fingers tightened in his hair.

Harry growled as he clenched his jaw and palmed her arse, thrusting increasingly faster. He was so big and deep that she could feel him all the way in her stomach. He stuck his thumb into her mouth as he fucked her harder so she wouldn’t scream. The last time they’d been too loud, one of the old ladies from across the hallway had threatened to call the police. She couldn’t look at the lady in the eye after that.

“God, yes, fuck me. Just like that,” she gasped. “Want to see your face when you come in me.” She rolled her hips faster, every nerve in her body tingle and flare in response to his affectionate roughness.

Harry gave a long and rough groan, “Yeah. God–love you so much.”

“I know, baby. Love you too.” She stroked his cheek, biting her lip. “So fucking good, God, don’t stop, please --”

She leaned over him, hair falling across his chest as she moved, fucking herself on him in a rhythm that started slow, almost hesitant, but gained in speed and force as she went.

“So big, Harry. Filling me up, fuck.” One of her hands was in his hair, but her other hand had slid to one of her breasts, pinching and tugging on her nipple. “Gonna come on your cock. Gonna come on you.” Her hand moved from his chest to her clit, and she started to work herself over again, stumbling on the rhythm.

“Shit, let me,” Harry said as his fingers tangled over hers. “Want to–Want to get you off. Please let me?”

She nodded, eyelids fluttering as she found her pace again. He groaned and thrust up into her, matching her rhythm as his fingers rubbed frantically over her clit.

“Oh, oh God, Harry.” She cried out his name again and again as her back arched and she came, hips jerking against his hand, driving herself down on his cock. She collapsed forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head on the couch, kissing him wild. “Fuck me, Harry. I know you’re close.”

She groaned roughly as his hands went tight on her hips, holding her still as he thrust up and into her, hard and fast. She whimpered and licked along his neck, tasting sweat and salt, and Harry bucked up off the couch and pushed her hips down at the same time. He could only grunt as he chased the feeling.

She bit down on his earlobe, her voice shuddered, “Come in me, please, need it. Need you.”

He rutted up against her, mindlessly pushing deep one last time before he came, pulsing into her. She collapsed on his chest, numb and trembling. The only sound she could hear was the buzzing in her ears, the thunder of her heartbeat, and them panting together.

After a few moments of silence, he pulled back and laughed, looking smug at how dazed she appeared. “Sorry. Made a mess on your couch.”

As he grinned at her, she knew he wasn’t really sorry. He reached down and traced where he was still inside her to find his come still trickling out, and she felt herself blushing at the hungry look in his eyes, as if he wasn’t done with her yet. Her body was almost boneless so they might need to take a short break before consider doing anything again.

“I hope these won’t get you in trouble at work,” he said with a smirk, tracing his thumb across the skin of her neck; he was talking about his love bites.

She rolled her eyes and ran her hand through her hair. “The only trouble is that they’ll remind Eddie of how single he is, and he’ll torture me with an extra amount of work that I might not do anyway.”

He laughed, shaking his head and kissing her again. When his phone rang, it took him a moment to locate it. He slipped out of her unwillingly but kept her on his lap as he reached for his phone on the floor.

“Uh-oh. Someone’s in trouble,” she said and bit back a smile when they saw Jeff’s name on the screen.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 75

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

(Ruby PoV)

Weiss was nervous. I could tell that she was trying not to be. She even put on a pair of lacy pale blue panties and brassiere. I wasn’t sure if she was interested in giving us something to look at or just trying to reassure herself of her own body though. I’m pretty sure it didn’t work so well if it was the later of the two. She still looked on edge in the dark blue slitted dress she was wearing.

It was a first time for her in a lot of ways and to be fair I hadn’t worked out the exact mechanics that would go into play here. For example if I was getting dicked down what would she be doing? And the reverse, if she was getting some what would I get up to? I wasn’t really sure and maybe it made me a little nervous as well. But not enough to overwhelm the excitement I felt at the thought of doing it with my two best friends.

When Weiss and I arrived at the hotel we would be staying the night in Cloud was already there. He was in the pale yellow room and out on the balcony. He was just waiting out there in the chill night. He… the goofball, he scattered rose petals on the king sized bed and lit a few candles. Weiss exhaled a shaky sigh by the doorway. I stepped inside and pulled her gently by the hand with me so that if she really wanted she could resist. She didn’t. She followed me inside and shut the door behind her. The bed was white with a brown comforter. It looked big enough for four people really. There was a brown sofa couch to one corner and a brown chair along with it. Two small end tables on which three candles total burned. There was a table at the foot of the bed where more candles were lit.

Off to one side there was a full ensuite bathroom with a standing glass shower and brown and grey mottled tiling.

Cloud turned around our entrance and stared at the two of us. He looked good with his hair ruffling in the breeze and those little diamond studs. He wasn’t full on masculine in appearance. More of a metrosexual look wafted off of him. Which I thought was really good. I liked that he was in touch with his feminine side in a lot of ways. He wasn’t afraid of his own emotions or expressing them. He wasn’t afraid of crying in front of me out of some twisted sense of pride. I liked that openness. I liked that strength. And standing there he seemed content to wait on us to make the first move.

He stepped in and shut the door behind him and closed the tan curtains. Without the artificial Atlas lights it grew a little dim. Weiss reached a tentative hand over and turned the light bulbs in the ceiling down low such that the bright little six candles were the only lights in the room. She breathed a sigh of relief at that like it removed some little tension from her worries.

“So,” Cloud began with a whisper. “I’m a little confused about the specifics… I think… two people will have to go first, though. And then the other person will rotate in.”

“But who’s going to want to be the odd one out?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine it going down like that.

“Me, of course,” he returned. “Let you girls get warmed up. It’s a shade more important for you than it is for me, isn’t it? Foreplay? I mean, too much foreplay for you isn’t really a thing in my experience. Too much foreplay for me and my night is over.”

“Is that how guys work?” Weiss asked.

“Pretty much,” he answered. “I could probably go two rounds in fairly short succession. But that would be it. It would pumping in a dry well after that. I mean, I could still go down on one or both of you but the ‘main event’ so to speak would be over.”

“Are you really worried about you finishing too soon?” I asked. “That’s never been a problem for you before.”

“I’m just saying that we have all night for me to probably go two rounds. One for each of you. But after that I’m going to be exhausted. Girls don’t really have a limit that way, in my limited understanding at least. I could be wrong but if I’m like a bottle rocket, ladies are like diesel engines. Once we get you warmed up you can keep going and going and each one is closer and more intense than the last. Is that wrong?”

“Well, not really,” Weiss agreed. “That’s sort of how it works. Girls actually have two different types of orgasms. One for the clitoris and one for the 'g'-spot.”

“That… I didn’t know…” Cloud trailed.

“The ones for the clitoris are closer and more intense as things go one but the 'g'-spot is a finisher if that makes sense,” Weiss explained.

“Huh,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”

“Really?” Weiss asked.

“Jaune and I… when he was Jaune… he sort of did both at the same time? It was pretty good. I won’t lie. I guess he made them sync up? Is that a thing?” I asked Weiss.

“I think so…” Weiss trailed with her eyes flickering between us. “The point is that Cloud is probably right. We could go first and have him join us. Foreplay is probably more important for us than it is for him.”

“With his size… yeah…” I agreed a little.

“Is… is it a problem?” Weiss wondered, teetering nervously.

“I mean… it can be?” I phrased. “Not with enough foreplay.”

“Right. I suppose that makes sense,” Weiss agreed.

Cloud took a seat on the couch and folded his legs. He put his arms up around the back of the couch and looked relaxed. “You girls do what comes naturally. I’ll look for my opportunity to step in. But… I’m sort of eager to watch? I mean… who wouldn’t be?”

“Oh is that how guys work?” Weiss rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. Little bit,” he said with a smile. “Lesbian porn is the most popular category of porn on the internet. So… chop-chop.”

“Well,” I turned to Weiss. “We can take our time then.”

“Ruby…” she trailed off. I took her in her slitted dress. I wanted her out of it as soon as I saw her in it. I leaned in and kissed her once on her bottom lip. She oozed into the kiss. I stuttered back a half step and I sat down on the edge of the bed. She pursued me. I ran my hand up her milky thigh up the slit in her dress to where her panties met her hip bone. She bent down and kissed me deeply. This time she hunted for my bottom lip and she gently licked it. I opened my mouth to her. Our tongues gently breezed against one another. She pushed me down into the bed as I lifted her dress. I was in a pair of yoga tights and a ‘v’ neck. Her knee came to the head of my thighs and gently pushed into my mound.

I rolled my hips into her knee encouragingly. I got some nice friction out of it. Not anywhere close to making me finish but it was a pleasant sensation. I heard Cloud let out a low groan at the sight but I didn’t look over at him. I was staring at Weiss above me. She ran a hand under my shirt and up to my breasts. She gave my left one a gentle squeeze and caress before hunting for my nipple under my bra and finding it.

I squeaked into her mouth and her tongue pulsed forward. It rubbed harder against mine and she went deeper with her tongue into my mouth and explored the back of my front teeth. I kept running my hand up her dress higher and higher. I smoothed over the soft skin of her stomach but I couldn’t reach her modest chest. I whined into her mouth and she grinned down at me and pulled back a little. She helped me out of my shirt. Pulling it over my head. She turned around and I unzipped the back of her dress. It fell off of her and left her exposed in those undergarments I watched her put on. They were lacy, flattering on her, and matched her blue eyes and platinum hair.

My own bra was black and a little lacy but not as much as Weiss’s. So were my panties but I still had on black tight yoga pants.

She pushed me down onto the bed and straddled one of my legs at the same time her knee came back to my apex. I groaned and thrust my core over her knee for some friction. She rocked her hips into my thigh as she bent low and kissed me. She cupped my right breast and started working her way around my face and down my neck with soft airy and wet kisses. She sucked on my neck hard and my hands came up to stroke her breasts and find her nipples. She squealed a little. It was a very un-Weiss-like noise but it was good and I wanted to hear more of it.

She pushed her own mound harder into my thigh and I felt a little wetness through the lacy blue and silver fabric. That was… that was just right. It made me push my thigh and my own groin harder up into her and I let out a low moan when our action graced my clit. The little bundle of nerves pulsed excitedly. She reached behind me and pulled my bra off. Her lips traced down my collar until she took one nipple in her mouth and sucked gently. She pulled it into her teeth just enough to graze it and I whimpered and let out a little gasp.

“Weiss…”

She rocked her hips harder and down on me at my utterance of her name. I could really feel her heat and her wetness now. I traced a hand up her thigh and to her panty line. I pushed the material aside and pressed a finger between her lips.

She let out a low moan and thrust her hips into my finger. Huh, so that was what it was like. I mean I sort of got it from the times Jaune had thrust into my hand when I held him but I felt so powerful. She felt so delicate. My other hand came up to her left breast and traced a gentle circle around the nipple there. She sighed. It was a shaky sound like she was struggling to breath. She cupped my face in both her hands and kissed me hard.

She rocked her hips into my finger and I brushed her clit. I rubbed up and down against it very gently because I knew how sensitive it could be. I flicked gently against her flesh and she leaned away. She twisted and pulled her bra off.

I sat up and kissed between her breasts before moving over to her left one and taking it in my mouth. Her hands returned to my face where she pulled me hard against her. I slipped my finger inside her tunnel and she moaned loudly and threw her head back.

“Oh, Ruby…” I thrust my pelvis up into her knees a little harder and in a circular fashion more than just a vertical one.

I pushed my finger in and out of her wetness nice and slowly. I rubbed at the interior of her velvety walls and wondered at the softness of them. Her lips seemed so delicate. She sank her fingers into my hair and I whined a little at how fiercely she touched me. She pushed me back down into the bed again. She mimicked the thrusts of my fingers with soft rolls of her pelvis.

I heard Cloud groan again. He seemed to be enjoying the show and I honestly struggled to blame him.

Weiss pulled back and away from me. I flicked her clit harshly as she pulled away. She gasped and subconsciously thrust her hips back at me.

She glanced at me and I looked away innocently. She kissed down my body to my pants line. She sank her fingers in and pulled my tights off me in a roll. She took my panties off at the same time and left me exposed to the chill-cool air. She spread my legs so her face was right at my mound. I felt my lips part moistly as she pushed my legs apart. She had a look of intrigue on her face as she sank a finger into me. I moaned lowly and loudly with the slow gesture. She gave me a gentle thrust all while rubbing against where she knew my 'g'-spot was. The rough patch of wet skin on the upper side flexed under her pressure and I rocked my pelvis down onto her finger harder and harder.

She thrust gently again and sofly parted my folds with a graceful ease. Then her face came forward and she gave my inner lips a low long lick and a gentle kiss. I sighed. I was biting my forefinger hard to keep from moaning loudly. She found my clit and rolled it into her mouth. I moaned and tossed my head back. My hands came down to grip her platinum locks and she groaned right into my core.

Her finger rocked into me and found that sensitive place and started rubbing a firm circle into it. Her tongue darted out and lapped at my folds and graced a circle around my clit before she sucked on it very gently. Her tongue then rubbed hard against it.

“Ah! Weiss!” I called out. Cloud had never gone down on me before. It was an entirely soft experience that had me pushing my lips hard against Weiss’s face. She fell back and kissed the inside of my thigh and gave her finger a push. Then she kissed my outer lips and gave me a harder thrust. Then she licked from her finger all the way to my clit and gave it a gentle kiss.

Then she really went to work on me. Her tongue pressed hard into me and started tracing against my most delicate skin. Her finger thrust harder and harder into me and she rubbed at my insides with some ferocity. I let out a long and low whine that I couldn’t really stop at all and I finished around her finger and thrusted into her face. I had her by her platinum locks harshly and I panted as I came.

“Weissss…” I felt so unbelievably wet. Sure some of it was Weiss’s spit but so much of it was also me. I tugged and Weiss’s hair. She rose up over my body. “Take them off…” I whimpered. She did. She shed the last of her clothes and crawled on top of me. I scooted down at the same time.

“Ruby…” she trailed off. I pulled her up so that the apex of her thighs was right over my face. I kissed her mound and it kissed me right back. Her hands fell to my hair and I split her folds with my hands. I kissed her interior. Then I slid my tongue inside of her tunnel. It was wet but oddly sweet. It tasted of her sweat, that’s true. There was also a more musky flavor that came with it. And of course all around me was the rich creamy flavor of her aura. Some sort of smooth custard, whipped cream, and crisp crushed ice.

My licked her from her entrance all the way to her most northern part of her folds. I found the bud there and licked a circle around it. She moaned loudly and her fingers sank into my hair. She thrust her hips into my face with some force and I tried to meet it with my tongue.

“Ha… Ruby… a little…” I flicked even harder against her clit. “Ah! Just like that,” Weiss ordered.

I made firm love to her sensitive bud. She rode my face into the soft mattress with hiccupping thrusts into me.

“Ruby… you’re...I’m about to… Ha, ha…” She fell over me such that she was on all fours with her legs spread wide and vigorously strumming down at me. Her hair fell over her rosy flushed face. Her eyes were fluttered closed and I knew she finished because I watched her entire stomach tighten and the abs there flex inwardly.

“Ha...ha…” she panted. I flicked my tongue out again against her love bud. “Ruby!” I knew that she would be sensitive. I did it again and she flexed harder down onto my face.

I flicked my tongue up and down her gash and sucked on her most sensitive region. I let my teeth graze it and her hips stuttered in place. Now I understood why Jaune had tormented me with his fingers whenever possible. I felt so powerful as she drove my face into the mattress. It was as though she couldn’t decide whether to pull her hips away completely or ride me harder. Her pelvis rocked back and forth quickly as I brought her to her second orgasm. Her face dropped totally into the bed above me and she pressed her hips down on my lips. Her hands fell into my crimson and black locks and she was so incredibly wet when she finished. The vague triangle of white hair above her mound itched at my nose when she fell. She just lay breathing hard into the bed.

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[savannahsdrabbles]

Ocean Song - Part 10/11

Rating: PG

notes: 2.9k words. A03 link can be found here. I can’t believe I’m almost done with this fic! <3 Big thanks again to my beta-readers, @starfiretheninja and @rusty-wayfarer. 

ALSO! I posted character references of the boys here, and @bakedbananners over on Twitter drew them! <33 I may or may not have cried. <3 OK! Now on with the fic! :D

***

“Ay-puh-ril, nicetumeetchu Dawn-ee, Cay-see. I Don-ee, Cay-see, Ahpril nicetumeetchu,” the turtle hummed softly under his breath, still rolling the words over and over in his mouth. He squinted, brown eyes straining to focus in the dim light as he used a claw to trace abstract patterns in the dirt. It had been at least thirty minutes since Casey’s departure, and with their main light source being the soft glow from April’s phone, the two unlikely comrades had settled into a quiet reverie beneath the pine trees. “Don Dun Dunntello Don Dondon Dawn-ee… April?”

“Yes, Donnie?” April glanced down at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time, her teeth working impatiently on her already cracked and sore lower lip. When the screen only blinked back a warning of low battery, she tucked the device into her pocket and drew her knees to her chest. It was getting chilly out – hopefully Casey was doing okay without his hoodie.

“Cay-see go?”

“Mh-hm. Remember? Casey went to rent a boat, and then you’re going to guide us so that we can take you home.” She cast her eyes sideways, watching as Donnie furrowed his brow and bobbed his head to show he was listening. “Right now we’re just waiting until he texts and says that the boat is ready.”

“Tehks?”

“Yup,” April tapped the phone-shaped outlined in her pocket, then bit her lip and mumbled a silent prayer that he didn’t ask for a further explanation of technology and digital communication – she’d had a difficult enough time explaining that to her grandparents. “Until then, we’ve just got to wait here.”

The turtle tilted his head and squinted at her pocket for a long moment, his expression clearly saying that he had more questions, but finally nodded and turned back to his doodles. “Bōto o matsu.”

April blinked.

Bōto o… wait for boat? Okay, so not only had he understood, but he understood enough to respond in another language. Cool, cool, okay.

She brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and squeezed, trying to ignore the migraine that had been building behind her eyes over the past few hours. How in the …? She knew he’d used a few Japanese phrases when they had first spoken in the lab, and logically she knew that living in Japan that would be the language he was most exposed to – but in the same vein, none of this made any logical sense. What kind of person could imagine a multilingual, anthropomorphic mutant turtle, accept that as fact, and then continue about their day?

Before her brain could wander any farther down that trail of thought– what next? Aliens? Superheroes? - April felt her phone buzz and heaved a grateful sigh of relief. “That should be Casey – time to get moving!”

The turtle perked up, his head swiveling like a periscope to search the surrounding shadows. “Where-?”

His question was cut off as April surged to her feet, her hands carefully grasping and guiding him upwards alongside her. The turtle yelped in surprise and grabbed for handfuls of her top once upright, wobbling slightly as he tried to balance himself.  

“Here – Casey’s hoodie is going to help keep you covered, okay?” April reached down to grab the jacket from the ground, bundled it up in her hands and then gestured for the turtle to raise his arms. He did so reluctantly, then yelped once more as she quickly pulled the material over his head and began to guide his arms through the fabric. “There likely won’t be too many people out at the marina on a school night, but we want to make sure we don’t draw any extra attention – plus there’s plenty of security cameras out there and it’ll be impossible to completely avoid those.”

“Mmmf!” Was Donnie’s only response, his arms starting to pinwheel frantically before April caught hold of them. A stretch of the hoodie’s neckline had gotten caught on the turtle’s snout, partially obscuring his eyes and totally covering his mouth. April adjusted the fabric with a chuckle, freeing the creature from his polyester prison, and then took a step back to examine her work.

Even compared to her relatively average five and a half feet, Donatello was short – if she had to guess, he probably wasn’t any taller than four foot ten. Considering that the hoodie he now wore was made to fit Casey’s nearly six foot self, it was hard not to see the turtle as a toddler playing dress up in his parents’ clothing. The way that the fabric hung and draped over his body made him look even smaller, if that were possible; should he sit down, he might get lost amongst the apparel. Were it not for the glinting metal collar around his neck and the look of growing discomfort on his face, April would have thought he looked ready to curl up in bed.

“Hmmm,” Donnie hummed pensively, clearly not feeling the comfort that April was perceiving. The turtle gave his fabric-obscured hands a hard shake, eyes wide and increasingly nervous noises emanating from his mouth as he rapidly rotated his limbs in search of his missing appendages.

April giggled and started to step forward to help him roll up the sleeves, but then held back when a quiet voice in her mind chided. Let’s see if he can figure this out.

Donnie glanced up with a piteous whine, looking as if he had her thoughts and realized she wasn’t coming to his rescue, then hesitated. April could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he stared at her rolled sleeves and free hands, then turned back to his own predicament. After a brief moment of thought and one more comparative look, the turtle raised an arm to his mouth and bit down on the sleeve, then gently tugged until his hand slowly slipped free.

“Hoo-dee!” he chirped triumphantly, holding up his free hand and waving it in delight.

“Right, you’re wearing a hoodie!” April grinned, then reached around the turtle to guide the hood over the back of his head. He didn’t seem to mind now, attention already turning back to the process of freeing his second hand. “We’d better keep the hood up for now, but look at us! Just two normal teens on the beach!”

The turtle’s eyes lit up at her last word. He dropped his sleeve in surprise, then turned to point a claw in the direction Casey had disappeared. “Beach!”

“Yup! Now let’s get you home!”

***

Donnie’s heart pounded as he stumbled along behind April, her warm hand holding him steady as the ground beneath them slowly transitioned from poky greens to the tan, shifting sands he knew so well. He’d been able to hear the ocean for a while now, but the moment they pushed through the last bushes and stepped out onto the beach - suddenly everything felt real. The cool, moist air, the promise of water and food and Home and his family – he was so close!

With every step towards the illuminated Human structures in the distance, he felt the urge building in his system – the desire to break loose from April’s gentle guidance and take off running towards the ocean. A familiar tugging sensation pulled incessantly at the back of his mind, calling out in the voices of Father and his brothers.

“This way, Clever, this way! Almost there! Almost Home!”

Their voices were like a siren’s song, beckoning him closer and closer with promises of healing and reassurances that he would soon be safe in their arms.

A breathless half-sob caught in his throat, and he swallowed thickly before trilling in response, his voice echoing out across the beach. “Wait for me; I’m coming! I’ll be Home soon!”

No sooner had the call left his mouth when April shook his hand gently, calling his attention back to the situation before them. He sighed and slowly drug his eyes away from the shore. As much as he wanted to release April’s hand and take off running… something told him that he needed to wait and stay with the two Humans. They had gotten him this far, and if the danger was imminent enough that he and Brothers were going to have to relocate…

“It looks like there’s a few people out on the marina, but I think we’re good,” April spoke in a low voice as she gestured towards the fast-approaching structures with her free hand. Two rows of buildings stood tall amongst the rolling dunes, serving as a departure from the otherwise untouched beach. Sand made way for a long wooden platform that served as the buildings’ foundations and stretched almost a mile out into the ocean. “My dad brought me down to the pier a few times when we first moved to Osaka - it’s pretty fun during the daytime. There’s a few shops and restaurants out on the board walk, and during the summer they host a carnival.”

Donnie nodded absently, his focus already drifting back out across the ocean. “Casey?”

“We’re almost to him. His text said that he was under the –”

A long, shrill whistle suddenly cut through the air, followed by a loud ‘YO!’ that snapped Donnie back to attention. He startled slightly, the sharp movement shaking the hood from his head and sending it sliding down his shoulders.

April heaved a sigh.

“And that would be the Master of Subtlety himself.” Even without looking, Donnie could imagine the way that the girl’s eyes were rolling and her shoulders slouching. He’d seen that exasperated look – and worn it – whenever his brothers did something foolish. With a sigh and a tug on his hand, April headed towards a shadow-y area tucked under the edge of the pier. “Come on.”

The turtle nodded obediently, his pace quickening and heart fluttering they moved closer towards the shoreline.

***

“You know, the point of texting was supposed to be that we kept quiet,” April called out as they approached the pier. She squinted, searching the shadows until they slowly began to give way to separate, more distinct shapes. “You could have at least waited until we got closer before you let the whole beach know where you were.”

“I wanted to make sure that you guys found me,” Casey replied, his voice already sounding smug– clearly a sign that he was up to something. There was a soft grunt as he pushed against one of the pier’s support beams, and then he and the boat slid out of the shadows.

April opened her mouth, hesitated, and then closed her eyes. The headache from earlier was returning. “Casey – what in the world is that?”

“Oh, you mean this beauty?” the teenage boy patted the side of the boat, an impish grin on his face, and then threw out his arms as the tiny, rust-ridden vehicle slowly began to tip towards the right. He flailed wildly for a moment, water splashing as the boat continued to rock from side to side, then finally froze with arms outstretched in a T-pose. “Er – she’ll be much more steady once you guys get in and help distribute the weight.”

“Mh-hm.” April cocked an eyebrow. “I can deal with unsteady; I’m more concerned about getting tetanus, or that thing sinking the second I put one foot in.”

“Yeah, well apparently it’s pretty expensive to rent a nice boat to go ‘somewhere in the ocean’ and come back ‘at some point’,” Casey stuck his tongue out, but kept his arms outstretched. “The shop owner guy looked like he wanted to kick me out more than anything, but I managed to make a deal with him. Apparently they were planning to send this boat to the scrap yard tomorrow morning, so the Jonesman – that’s me - offered to take it off of their hands and save them a trip.” Casey moved to fold his arms across his chest, but then threw them out once more as the boat rolled beneath him. “I was – oh boy, one sec – thinking of naming it the O’Neilmobile, but with that attitude I just might have to reconsider.”

“How will I ever deal with such a loss?”

“I guess Jonesmobile: The Squeakquel will have to do.”

“Casey.”

“It’s Captain Casey now.”

“I’m not calling you that– do you think that thing will stay afloat with all of us? Maybe we should rethink our plans –”

Suddenly and without warning, Donatello dropped April’s hand and surged forward.

“Don-?”

The turtle stumbled heavily as he cleared last few feet of sand, clearly too frantic to think out his steps, but the moment his claws touched foam something seemed to click inside.

“Water – look! Water-water-home!” Breathless words and excited sounds spilled from his lips like a pot bubbling over, coming quick and fast and soon dissolving into a symphony of hums and noises that April could only think to call laughter. He tipped his head back, eyes closed and body shaking with the sounds as he kicked and frolicked through the surf, sending salt water splashing in every direction. “Beach-water-Family-water-water-Home!”

April cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, half afraid that his mirth would attract unwanted attention, but Casey waved the thought off.

“Just… give him a minute,” he smiled, eyes following the turtle as he danced amongst the waves. “I think he needs this.”

April hesitated, but she couldn’t help the smile growing on her face, nor the relieved laugh she gave as Donnie turned towards to them. He grinned widely, eyes shimmering, and then flopped backwards into the water.

“Look! Look water!” His chest heaved as he laughed breathlessly. “Water!”

“I’m happy for you, Bud,” Casey said, nudging the edge of the pier once more so that the boat drifted closer. “We’re so close to getting you home.”

The turtle nodded and laughed again, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. Rivulets of water ran down either side of his face, congregating under his chin and then dripping down to the already soaked hoodie that now hung heavily from his shoulders. He gave a slight shake of his head, sending droplets skittering across the water’s surface, and then lifted a hand to pat his chest. “Donnie.”

Casey cocked his head, eyes sliding to April. “Donnie?”

“It’s short for Donatello,” she smiled and held out her hand towards the turtle. He stood and took it gratefully, eyes gleaming with renewed energy and more life than ever before. With a little tug, she drew him alongside her and stepped closer to the boat. “He needed a special name.”

“Kind of a hard name for someone just learning English,” Casey leaned down to grab a few items from the bottom of the boat and then shifted backwards to give them more room. “I was thinking something more along the lines of ‘Bill’ or ‘Casey Junior’.”

“Pfft - as if,” April held the edge of the boat steady as Donnie scrambled over the side, then plopped himself by Casey’s feet. When the boat didn’t immediately capsize under the weight of a second passenger, she pulled herself in and settled on the bench seat opposite Casey. Now that she was actually in the boat, tucked beside the two guys she was on this adventure with… it suddenly didn’t seem so cruddy. No, this boat was just right for what they needed. “Hey – did you get life vests?”

Casey turned to face the motor and straddled his seat, the movement causing the boat to rock dangerously. “Naw, we’ll be in the boat the whole time, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Plus you and Donnie can swim.”

“Wait – can you not?”

“And off we go!”

The engine took a moment to roll over as Casey tugged on the pull cord, but eventually started with a loud roar that sent Donnie scrambling for safety against April’s legs. She reached down and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and then they were off! The little boat began to power forward at a steady speed – not as fast as she would have liked, but enough so that April’s hair began to tangle around her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, spitting a strand out of her mouth and suddenly wishing that she’d brought a hair tie.

“Here – take this!” Casey called over the sound of the engine. April opened one eye, then grinned when she saw what Casey offering. “Coach said I’m only allowed to keep my hair long if I pull it back during practice, so I always have extra rubber bands on hand!”

“Thanks!” April took the present gratefully and quickly pulled her hair back into a tight bun. Now that that problem was solved… “By the way – did you end up grabbing food like you mentioned?”

The boy’s eyes lit up, and he bent down to grab the objects he’d moved to make room for Donnie. “Oh, yeah! I hit up the McDonald’s on the board walk right before I went to the boat place. I asked the cashier what she suggested for my ‘pet turtle’ and she said suggested a head of lettuce. They were out of that at the moment though, so…” He passed a brown paper sack to April, and then extended a small box to the turtle. “Donnie, can you say ‘chicken nuggets?’”

“Chih nuddets.”

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon Chapter 13: Undaunted

<Previous / Next>

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Undyne's the heroine who never gives up--she's not about to lose that title now.

The search parties had mostly given up after only a few weeks, but Undyne wouldn't. She couldn't, not after the months of trouble her friends had been put through. She didn't care if she lost her place as captain, she didn't care what it meant for her career--two monsters under her watch had been treated horribly after suffering long enough already, and she couldn't rest until she knew for sure what had befallen them. Asgore had been understanding when she'd explained the situation, but others might talk... Well, she'd let 'em. If they had a problem with how she spent her time, they could take it up with her--so far, no one had.

Dressed in a heavy coat to ward off the cold, most of Undyne's days the last month had been spent scouring the wilderness. She worked the forest systematically, keeping track of how much ground she'd covered and which direction hadn't been explored. She drew on everything she knew, every instinct and shred of knowledge and ounce of determination, and kept going. They had to be out here somewhere.

She crested a low hill, and hooted triumphantly--there! Clear as a pond in Waterfall, a trackway. They were old, but fresher than any of the ones around town--and she didn't know of anyone or anything else that would leave such tracks. Four digits in front, three in back, thin and always tipped by claws--the only thing that came close were the various icedrakes, but they were bipeds. As long as she followed these, she'd find something--she was sure of it. She powered forward, legs carrying her faster and faster until she was almost running--

Something impacted her. She pitched forward with a grunt, landing roughly in loose brush, only to be hauled up by her backpack and shaken. She dropped roughly to the ground, and yelped as her arm was pinned and her assailant tried to pull the backpack off again. She rolled and kicked out to knock her attacker's leg from under them, and glimpsed that not only was said leg made of bone, it was broken.

Her strike connected. The creature shrieked and darted off, pausing briefly a few yards away to stare at her hollowly with orange eyes. Then it dashed off again, and Undyne scrambled to pursue. She'd found something alright, and it made her soul twist painfully.

"Papyrus! Wait! I wanna help!"

She chased after him, weaving through the brush and trees breathlessly; even with an injured arm he was easily outpacing her and it wasn't long before she'd lost sight of him. She continued following his tracks--but the new trail petered out by going off a cliff. She skidded to a halt, panting; Undyne knew Papyrus had incredible jumping abilities so he hadn't just fallen however far down that was. She'd lost him. She grit her teeth, then punched the nearest tree in frustration. Chunks of snow rained from its branches, smattering around her with little splats--the only sound aside from her ragged breathing. She'd been so close...! If she'd gotten in range she could have used a green attack, and then... well. It didn't matter now--he'd gotten away. But her frown softened as a thought occurred to her. At least she knew he was alive.

But...

He'd attacked her, and though they'd stared at one another, he hadn't seemed to recognize her at all. She'd seen only the wary gaze of an animal in those orange lights. He'd slipped... and it seemed worse this time. Back when he'd pounced on her in the hidden cave, he at least knew she was a friend and was playing with her. She rotated her arm, feeling out the lingering soreness from the scuffle--this time, he'd held back, but not much. She had to find him again, and break him out of this like she said she would. She made a face--hopefully it wouldn't involve any actual breaking.

She had to find him again, and Sans, but it was getting late and she wasn't prepared for a night in the forest. She glanced back up, looking out over the valley black with thick, hardy evergreens and cut by a rushing river. They were out there, somewhere...

She stomped her foot with a grunt, and shouted as loud as she could. "Papyrus! I'm coming back tomorrow! Don't be late, y'hear me?! And bring your lazy excuse for a brother too, got it?!"

She glared, listening to her words echo and hoping, somehow, she'd hear a reply. But it was getting too cold. She turned and retraced her steps until she finally came back to the road. After everything that had happened, the rest of the journey to get home felt so long... maybe she'd just stay at the Snowed Inn again. It was always clean and cozy, and they had the best cinnamon buns. Yeah. That sounded relaxing. She could use the peace and quiet to come up with a gameplan that wasn't just 'wander in the woods until she found her friend'. She needed to do better than that. Papyrus--whether he knew it or not anymore--was counting on her.

But she'd done everything she could today--after a full day in it, the cold was really biting at her scales. She grit her teeth and pulled her coat tighter against the icy breeze. Just a bit farther...! She sighed with relief when the warm lights of town finally poked through the trees. She'd take Snowdin's cold over Hotland any day, but the thought of taking a hot shower before snuggling under cozy blankets sounded like the nicest thing right now.

Once she'd gotten settled into her room for the night, she called Alphys.

"O-oh, hello, C-Captain Undyne," she stammered on the other end of the line, and Undyne felt her heart do little flips.

"Hey Doctor Alphys! Um, I was wondering... if... er, if you could help me with something," she started--more awkwardly than she wanted it to sound, ugh. "I've uh--I've got a case I'm working on and--well--I was hoping you--um--"

"I-I'd love to!" Alphys said quickly, and there was the sound of ruffling papers. "It's th-the case of the b-beast, right? Only, it wasn't a beast it was the skeleton brothers--I had no idea transforming monsters were real, it's just like this show I've been watching where it turns out the main character's best friends are really--WHOOPS spoilers ha ha ha... Um... Is it... that case?"

Undyne coughed. "Yeah. I'm... trying to find them. I saw Papyrus today."

"O-oh! Th-that's good! ... Right?"

Undyne sighed. "Yeah, but... it was like he didn't recognize me at all."

"O-oh..."

"Yeah. I've seen him do this, where he acts... different. More like a wild animal, I guess... He kinda reminds me of the dogs, but then when he stretches it's more like a cat, and then if he's watching something it's kinda like a bird--anyway, the point is, he stops acting like Papyrus. I mean, you can still tell it's him in there, but... I've been able to snap him out of it before, but this time... I dunno. He seems like... like he's really in deep."

"Hmm..." Alphys was quiet as she thought; it took a while, but Undyne didn't mind--she was enjoying just having her on the phone.

"W-well," she finally started, and it sounded like she adjusted her glasses. "Based on what little information you gave me, I can only guess so much, b-but... um, I only have like one episode of this show, b-but, one of the characters loses his memories, and seems like a totally different person until his friends spend enough time talking about things they all did together. I don't know if that would really work--i-it's kind of silly, saying it out l-loud now, um, nevermind--"'

"No! No, I think that might be exactly it," Undyne said quickly; of course it was something obvious like that! Man, Alphys really had a problem with confidence sometimes--she had the best ideas. "I was just gonna go out and like, tackle him, but now I think I should do that... AND tell him about all the other times I have too!"

Alphys managed a weak laugh. "Th-that... seems like it's worth a shot. T-tell me if it works, okay?"

"Of course! Thank you so much--um, I might ask you for more help again soon, okay? Actually... Back when he was... still in town, Papyrus seemed really bothered by the fact he was stuck in his beast form. You think you could, I dunno, rig up some science thing to scan his magic and see if something's going on with it?"

"I-I could certainly try," Alphys replied, and Undyne heard a sound like she was tapping her chin. "I wish I could have looked into it before they transformed so I'd have a baseline to compare it to, b-but, I guess I'll have to use regular monsters as a control... I-if their bodies can change so drastically, I can only imagine what their souls are doing, and that could explain why their mental states change as well... I'll have to see what the literature says about endomagical structure and regulation... O-oh, sorry, I'm rambling--you're probably busy, that was probably really boring--"

Undyne scoffed. "I mean, I can't exactly weigh in, but I love when you talk science stuff. Now, when you get into jargon, then I'm really lost."

She loved when she talked any stuff, but science was a topic Alphys could happily discuss at length. Even if she didn't understand, Undyne could listen to her for hours. She just liked seeing Alphys happy.

"Y-yeah, ha ha... I don't know enough about this to get into any jargon yet, b-but trust me, there's gonna be jargon eventually."

"There always is," Undyne teased, then turned serious. "Well hey, listen--I'm really glad you want to help. These guys have been trying to deal with it on their own this whole time, and... needless to say it hasn't worked out. I'll do everything I can, but... I think we need someone who can really look into this once I get them back."

"Yeah... I-I... I'll do my best," Alphys replied quietly. "Let me know when... when you find them."

"Oh yeah, for sure. So, uh... cool. Uh. Talk to you later....?"

"Yeah! O-oh, um, okay, bye!"

She hung up, and rolled onto her back. Alphys was so smart--such an obvious solution to helping the brothers remember themselves hadn't even crossed Undyne's mind. She'd give it a shot for sure. And then, once they were back, Alphys could use science to help them figure out what was up with them being stuck... It was nice to feel like maybe things might work out. Undyne had tried not to be hard on herself, but she felt like she'd let the brothers down.

Maybe she should have let Papyrus help with the investigation after all, before things had gotten so out of hand that the townsfolk were ready to attack on sight. But it was too late--she had to face this head-on and not get bogged down with regrets. She'd take Alphys' advice and try getting through to her friends tomorrow.