#glove and beanie with bait

[izzi-rads]

Indie loves him!!

To "the greatest voice actor of all time" /ref , @kovox

[toonycatowo]

Fanart of bait from @javigameboy

[mistermistyyy]

Really frigging cool looking short by a really frigging cool artist. Watch when it arrives, pls, I want more subs for them https://youtu.be/O1f-ewgV3AM?si=UgMU2-cI49t028H5

[pvnks0ul]

me and mrs. wolf (18+)

❊ werewolf/shifter!riri x fem!reader

sypnosis: Riri ends up having to find a creative way to keep you warm during your first camping trip together, you get more than you bargained for.

⚠︎: little plot ⁴ 🌽, kinda terotaphilia¿¿, mentions of hunting & eating wild deer(sry), dirty talk, readers really fucking cold, dom!riri + sub!reader, enlarged clit/girldick, several rounds, use of *mommy* + breeding kink, married au, amateur writing ! + bad descriptions of camping cause im js not built for that lifestyle!!

a/n: this was originally based off that one twilight scene (iykyk🧛🏾‍♀️) but shit really do be happening...🥲

There was no denying the early morning view when you'd first arrived. Selfoss was..beautiful, without a doubt one of the most Ethereal landscapes you'd ever seen but no amount of breathtakingly clear skies or eye watering fields of perfect green grasslands would ever be worth catching pneumonia in the booty hole. You didnt know how much longer you could take before calling it quits and ditching to whatever was closest to a ' 4 seasons round here—quite honestly you were probably already there.

The fire outside endlessly crackled, only reason for it not being put out was because Riri wanted to keep it burning so she could surprise you with dinner. The problem being she waited till the sun had already set to go hunting... Was it obvious she did not have the privilege of cooking very often?

You watched the blurred flames quiver and roar from behind the tents sheeted walls as your teeth clattered at an alarming rate, limbs shivering so hard you'd began jolting randomly to make sure you'd still had control over your own body. But you honestly wouldnt be surprised if they'd all just froze and fell off right about now.

You tried to roll closer to the side nearest of the fire but it's distant warmth only baited you to come outside and embrace it.

And you were so close to giving in if only the sun hadnt already went down, the light from the full moon only something dim compared to the dark forests surrounding you. Riri'd originally asked if you wanted to come with but truthfully your legs were already tired from gathering all the sticks for the pit. The relief she felt when you said you werent feeling up to the chase, especially since you wouldnt be of much help anyways, didn't go unnoticed.

So the agreement was, you'd stay in the tent where she felt you were safest and she'd go hunt alone. A very simple and easy task.

You sat up on the thick foambedding Riri had laid ontop of the built in matt so you wouldnt be laying completely on the ground. And although stocky, the comforter did little to protect you from the chilly air, you had on both your winter coats and one of Riris leather jackets underneath but it was clear no amount of layering would save you— or atleast not with the clothes you'd packed.

you smacked your forehead multiple times over like that would help as you cursed yourself for not going with her. You probably could've convinced Riri to carry you around on her back, if you had.

You poked your head out of the tent and it was nearly pitch black outside, now. The firepit lit up the inside of the empty but tiny lot, just enough to see a few trees surrounding.

The wind blew once more and your ears were starting to burn slightly from how cold it was, even with your beanie on.

By the time your brain had registered what you were thinking about doing, you'd already gotten up & were planting yourself on one of the logs that assisted as chairs. Gloved hands reached out to the fire and only then could you finally feel the slightest umpth of warmth.

You don't get to enjoy the heat for long when a snap of a branch comes from your left, pass the entrance of the camping site and you freeze in place. You try to write it off. You had to remember you were literally in the middle of a forest, it was a given that some wild life would lerk about— and you tried hard to convince yourself that's all it was.

It comes again but dangerously close and your hands drop to your sides faster than your heart to the pit of your stomach, your eyes are wide open, you weren't sure if you were prey but you weren't going to stick around to find out and before the third one can come you've already dashed it back to the little pavilion.

Zipping it up as quickly as you could with shaky hands & thick gloves, covering yourself in the comforter as a shield from whatever could be coming incase it followed you in.

Your breath hitches in your throat as the footsteps near and all you can think about was how much you wished Riri was here to protect you.

The soft thud of something weighty being dropped near your tent makes you jump and freeze out of pure unbridled fear. You have yet to blink, irises shaking and again you feel stupid because the only thing you had to defend yourself with was a lousy clothespin in the front pocket of Riris jacket.

The familiar sound the zipper sliding down sends shivers down your spine and you clutch the small needle tighter, at least you'd be going down with a fight albeit not alot.

You're too scared to even move an inch when you feel a fluffy but ice cold touch on your shoulder. You yelped, moving to a crouch as you held your clothespin infront of yourself.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Riris voice booms & vibrates against you. You can tell she's holding back a laugh by the condescending tone.

You squirm in her grip, trying to turn around in her strong arms,disbelief written all over your face, "You scared me!" you reply with a huff before hitting her hard chest, "Why didnt you say anything when you saw me running?"

"Cause I like the way you run off when you know you're not supposed to be doing something." She chuckles before kissing the side of your face, "Like doing the exact opposite of what was asked when I–"

"Ok, yeah, i get it, damn." you huff and drop your head at the lecture only for her to lift your chin so she can look you in the eye.

She pecks your cheek with chapped lips, forgetting what she was gonna say. Leading you to scoff when she releases her firm grip so she could remove her fuzzy noggin, “But...you were taking too long and i was freezinggg in here."

Riri quirks a brow, smirk festering to the surface, "I took not even 15 minutes."

You smack your teeth at her excuse, "you wouldn't understand." she laughs bolsteriusly, all whites showing as she tosses the hat to the side before seating herself against the back of the tent.

Riri pats the area beside her, "C'mere."

You crawl over to your wife, very tempted to climb into her lap but opting to just let yourself be enveloped when she wrapped her arms around you.

"Fifteen minutes feels more like forty-five when you're dying of frost-bite." you mumbled still not over it yet, snuggling into her, hogging her warmth for yourself.

"Mhmm.." she sighs. She knows that technically human bodies are much more vulnerable than one of her... stature but she also knows when her wife is being dramatic. Her hands rub up and down your back, earning a satisfied hum in response.

Your legs were stretched under you as her thumbs stroke at your cheeks, leaving goosebumps in their wake from how hot they were and it seems the both of you completely forgot about dinner.

She snorts at you before blowing air, "Well, I'll tell you what..If you miraculously manage to make it through the night, I'll get you the finest suite money can buy– in one of those what'd you call if? 4 springs? Gonna get you some proper breakfast and—"

"Mmm, thank god." You quipped before she could finish.

Riri smacks her teeth gathering you at the same time. "Yeah Anyway...all you'll have to do is sit pretty in bed and let me spoil you since you were willing to do this for me." she replies behind a smile before landing a fat peck to your temple, you moan approvingly, nodding as you clutched her shirt in your fist.

"I don't think you understand how much i appreciate it." You lift your head after a few seconds passed and she didnt let go only to find hungry dark orbs staring back at you, falling to your parted lips and then back up. Heat rushes to your face as you look anywhere but at her, "I- I do." an odd burning sensation sets in your core racing all the way up to your tummy.

"Yeah? I bet you still want me to show you though, huh?"

Riri wonders if it'd be selfish to have you right here and now, with how frozen to the touch you were just a second ago.

You grab at her arm, that doting look in your eye that you get when you're too shy under her gaze to speak your mind and she hastly decides it's not. That infact, the little action she's seeking would be helping you in the end.

So she drops her arms from around your body, shaking her jacket off and quickly undoing your puffy winter coats.

She pushes you onto your back without a word. You make sure your silence isnt mistaken for no, helping her in her mission to unbutton the first layers of jackets and slide them away.

Riri bellows at this. You always looked so pretty under her and it was a sight she'd never want to forget. She wastes no time climbing over you, straddling your thighs between her spread legs and leaning down to help.

She doesnt even need to survey once, rough hands just pulling and popping the zippers on the last few, "Ah–! Hey-" Riri brings her lips to yours in a means to shush you but she can't stop herself from the wantonly aura that read it was her who wanted more, her thumbs fumbling with the end of your shirt before yanking it up & over your bra. She grunts into your kiss a subtle, "Shut up, you won't even need them."

Your eyes flutter shut as you arch into her and there's no further argument. Just you kissing back with just as much fervor now, your hands grabbing the back of her neck and holding her closer. Riris hard fingernails scrape against your stomach as they made their way up to your breast, she fondles you gently through the fabric, circling her thumb in search of your nipple and pinching it between her index when she finds it.

You whimper into her mouth desperate for more but all she responds with is before doing the same to the other breast and pulling your bra down under the cusps of them once they'd pebbled hard enough.

She leaves you with a sweet kiss, then a peck that has you blindly chasing after her but you can't get far with the way she holds you down. You whine, bucking your hips up mindlessy absolutely desperate for any kind of friction. What you find in it's place takes you by surprise. You gasp before feeling at the bulge in her pants. Riri tenses on the spot, cursing under her breath before grinding into your palm.

"You brought your strap all the way out here, Ri?" you giggle while tugging on the tent in her pants.

Riri shakes her head, "No, I–!" she shudders when your hand moves even just a little bit, "No. It's all me." your eyes widen at her words.

You're immediately curious, feeling her up through her pants. Your fingertips going over her print and it's long, the thickest you've ever attempted to wrap your hands around. Your hands move lower and riri twitches up again. Right between a familiar set of puffy lips is where it sprouted and you're still a little in disbelief.

Riri holds your wrist in place, guiding it up and back down to the curved base. You can feel her hardening under your touch and it's oh so surreal. After a few more strokes you're already huffing under her, pupils pitch black & fully blown and she knows you're getting just as worked up.

And the shock of it all is not what you choose to focus on, if Riri says it's all her then you believe her. But that also means she must feel so suffocated in her tight-fitting boxers.

The first time you tried to move your hands away to pull at her pants, your reprimanded immediately. She takes it upon herself to push your wrists over your head, holding them in one hand, her extended claws were sharp and marking the skin just a little.

"Need t-to know if i can fuck you..." she whispers directly into your ear, your thighs clench beneath her at the blatant vulgarity.

Your words were caught in your throat in the middle of all of this. Riri takes advantage it, kissing over that side of your face multiple times before making her way to your neck, you gasp, opening your legs mindlessly and Riris already centering her bulge in the middle of your covered achy lips.

She whimpers because of how sensitive you managed to make her, abusing your swollen clit through damp fabric, frantic for a release and she needs to know if you're ready now more than ever.

Riri holds onto the back of your thighs, rolling her hips "Please.." she begs for what seems to be the first time, big brown eyes darting everywhere on your face, bursting with impatience, she felt like she was going to throb herself into a slow release.

You nod your head quickly, she could have whatever she wanted from you right now. Riri sighs before releasing your hands and you already know not to move them.

Riris anxious fingers fumble around for your leggings, tugging and tossing them to the side somewhere.

Your scent is strong and it takes over her senses completely, she almost puts her own needs aside just for a taste, an you can see the complexity in the pinch of her brows as her figure loomed overtop of you.

Evidently she made up her mind as the pads of her fingers now slid down to the edge of your panties and you can see her physically fighting the animalistic urge to rip them off of you. She utilizes her middle & ring, roughly dragging them to your ankle, letting you kick them off before she dips them lightly between your sticky lips, you hiss, giving it your all to not shut your legs around her fingers as she enjoyed the slick.

She decides it was enough with the waiting, you clearly needed this just as bad as her. Riri unbuckles her cargos, sliding off her boxers aswell.

Small desperate pants slip past your lips at the sight of your wife, taking in her muscular form but, what really captures your eye is the pretty little trimmed patch of curly hair sprawled down her abs. Your hands have a mind of their own as you grab her hips with one and claw at her toned tummy to her sport bra with the other.

She bites down on her bottom lip before swatting at you, "Fuck– Alright baby..." she speaks as she collects your wrists in one of her hands... again. She maneuvers your legs up to your chest, so she could appraise your gaping hole; so patiently awaiting her arrival.

Riris holds the tip of her erect clit in her hand, bringing it over yours and rubbing it in the wad of spit she just landed there, letting you grind up as you pleased till she had to go back down.

"Oww– huuh, ohh!" You whimper out the first words you'd spoken since she started this whole thing as she smoothly inches her way pass your entrance. Riri herself, is left hissing when she finally breaks through the ring, grazing each side of your walls effortlessly.

Your head tilts back upon entry, mind going blank as you grasped the comforter under you, needing something to keep you afloat. You're suffocating her and she's barely had a taste. she pushes further until your pelvics meet, bottoming out in one strained push.

"G–god damn." Her clit throbs inside of you, giving you more to stretch around in case you were becoming too accustomed with it the first time.

Riri murmurs more curse words under her breath from the way you clenched and halted her in place when she attempts to move. Only wanting to set a slow but satisfying rhythm to get you both used to the other.

She holds you down with one hand to your waist, pulling out to the rim of your pussy and then slamming back in. She moans louder, getting loss in the immediate pulsing of your gooey walls.

"Yes, Riri~–!" Your eyes roll as she starts to pick up the pace, fucking you harder into the matt. Not even her biggest faux piece had made you feel this full— you want some more and right now.

Her labia kisses yours as she digs deeper into you, strings of your arousal mixing with her own. "Fuck y/n." she whispers your name behind an exasperated grunt, pounding into you harshly as she held onto your waist.

Your face feels like it's on fire and your belly is rapidily turning, you were right on the cusp of an orgasm and too fucked out to warn her.

Yet you tried. You tried jerking on her clit to still her movements. But it only excites her more. She growls in response, "Mmmn—!" slapping your breast and biting her lip till she could taste iron when it bounced, ignoring your yelp completely, "Keep pulling on my shit, baby."

It grows again, the heads vibrating as your pussy adjusted around it and if it weren't for the constant sloshing from the mix of both of your releases against the other, you probably would've heard the humming.

You cry out at the stretch, pushing at her lower stomach to slow down but she simply smacks at your hands, "Nah, this is what she wants– look how she takes me. Don't be greedy, babygirl." Riri taunts referring to the loud squelch of your pussy every time she thrusted just a bit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she shook the whole damn mat, "Riri—! I can't—" you try to fixate on the place where your body met hers, clenching around her again, throwing her off balance and she gives up on the steady strokes, "Gonna nmph—! Fucking fill you deep if you do that shit again, Mhmm.." She starts pistoling her hips into you, sloppily creating a dripping mess between your bodies, "..make you have all my babies."

You probably looked like a googly eyed fool with the way they rolled to the back of your head at her rambling, you want it all so bad, you felt delirious.

Your legs lock around her hips as you moaned out a chant of her name, clamping down on her clit with a deadly vice and her head falls back instantly, she lets you have it. Riri holds your lower stomach with her palm, hips stuttering as she ruts against you, desperately using you to empty all her nut into.

The silky straws of her cum are so warm and it makes you have an explosion on your own, your cream gushing and mixing with hers, leaking out of your pussy straight down onto the flat bed because that's you were too stuffed to keep any of it in.

And eventually all of the thick liquid combined slowly pushes her out completely.

Riri looks down to find her clit twitching, absolutely drenched in cum—she's not sure who's– still dripping from the ring formed near the base and that was surely your work.

She gets more aroused at the thought. Rubbing at your sensitive inner–thigh, ready for another round and apparently you were too by how they ease open for her.

"Can you give me a color baby?" fingers moving up to your silk-covered folds.

You blink slowly at her, nodding as you grabbed at the wrist of her curious fingers, "g–green.."

Riri bobs her head, trying not to let her smirk suffice. You're shaking, still on the cusp and yet you want more? what a slut. she hides it by kissing all over your face, making you whine when she got everywhere but your lips.

Your arms are quick to wrap and lock around her neck, pulling her down to you and Riri has to stifle a laugh at how desperate you were acting. Knowing she can't go on long when trying to resist you, she let's you win this battle.

This kiss was different then the first, you had her by the little strands of her neck hair, moaning into the hot kiss when she bit down on your lip, your mouth opens, accepting her tongue and you can feel her shaft poking and twitching with want against your lower stomach as she licked & searched every bit of it..

This kiss was messy & frantic, something that described the both of you to a tee in the exact moment.

Riri growls again, muffled but it still makes your head spin. You arch your back into her, the bottom of her clit rubbing ontop of your own and you have no choice but to leave the kiss, your head falling back in defeat as she kept rolling her pelvic against you.

"Ri! Wait, please–! just wait!" You were gonna cum if she kept going and hard, your body wouldn't have been ready for that yet.

You're flanking against each rushed thrust, as she panted heavily, "shit!shit!shit!" grunting lowly but with your constant running the satisfaction wouldn't be the same.

So Riri stops, she unravels your arms from around her body and sits back on her knees, "Come ride me." she bids, eager to have you all over again while licking at her lips, moist with your spit and cherry balm.

Your mouth gapes open as you stared at her. She purposely moved to the opposite end, knowing you would struggle to make it over there. Ri sits flat down on the mat now, her legs spread and clit swaying proudly over her lap and all you can do is bat your lashes pathetically.

You felt as if you were glued to the bedding with the way you body refused to move. Riris mean– she's so mean when she laughs at you. Shaking her head and crawling back over to you on her knees.

She stays silent as she pulls you into her chest before maneuvering your body the other way around. She pushes you roughly back down into the sheets, "Since you don't wanna listen."

Your brows raise for the first time as you weakly held yourself up on your elbows. You almost speak up but you're interrupted by the sound of a loud moan when she enters you again, moving without giving you a chance to adjust.

"Never gonna be able forget what this pussy feel like, baby." she murmurs softly despite her hard & cruelly plodding pace.

Her hands dig back into their designated slots on your waist and you drop your head, admittedly liking the harsh way she fucked and used your body for her own selfish needs. "Feel so good!" you mumble drunkenly.

The outburst earns you a slap to the round of your ass. You yelp, pulling off to the tip of her clit. "Eugnh! Fuck!" Sticking your back out, approvingly.

"Who told your ass to move?" she growls while roughly yanking you back to her mound, you mutter a meak apology that means nothing to riri as she clenched her teeth, watching you make a mess of her clit. She plays with the globes of your ass, spreading them pleasantly as you formed an unnatural arch trying to push back into her, feening for it.

"Yeah, baby? You like this position, huh? Dirty girl."

You only nod but riri corrects you, a crackle hits the air when she drops her open palm on your ass again, "Talk back to me."

You whine, arms giving out and slumping down to just your elbows, "f-fuck yes, mommy!"

Riri coos before slapping your ass again right in the middle as she snapped her hips, "You want it faster? Huh?"

You moan, "Yeah–!"

"Work for it then." riri sighs out cooly while stopping immediately against you.

Your knees shake pathetically as you immediately try. You throw it back for the first time, just tightening around her and hoping it'd be enough.

Riri squeezes the flesh of your ass in her hand in return having you curl into yourself at the satisfying burn, she bumps you against her until you were able to fuck yourself off her.

"See– shit! You know what you're doing baby."

Riri catches what you throw, grunting dirty pleasures into your sweaty neck, as you led her closer to a final climax.

"My good girl..Damn.", "Fuck, look how you working this shit."

You were brought to the final straw when she brought her hands under your body, pushing her way into your sloppy folds so she could rub at your small clit and ease your nerves. It jolts you again, but you don't run this time, just grinding down into it. You're sure to alert her though. An ear shattering, "M'gonna cum so hard mommy shiiit!"

"And mommy really wants your cum, pretty." She fucks you harsher, pulling you back and forth on her clit so hard you were gasping out at each one, the head tickling your cervix and pushing you further into your orgasm. "C'mon then."

"Ahh! Oh! M'gonna–so close shitghh–!"

Your orgasm racks through your body hard, you can't even keep up with riris strokes, letting her fuck you through your high and then you're clawing at your pillows tryin to get away. She keeps going until her hips stutter into an climax, exploding and pounding it into your coated walls until the high had escaped her.

You cry out finally sliding off her piece and closing your eyes, thighs still shaking just a bit as you went through the motions all over again. Your stomachs twisting and pulling and you dont even feel like turning around the right way– just wanting to catch your breath.

You're trembling slightly when her eyes set back on you, she can tell you're not all the way back yet. She moves between your legs to rub at your thigh and she finds it burning to the touch, problem solved, she smirks proudly.

Riri sits on the same log you had, the muscles in her biceps bulge as she grips the buck by its front and back legs, laying it flat with a thud much louder than before, using her extracted nails to get rid of the rope she tied it's ankles with in one simple swipe.

When you finally come to and realize she's not by your side, you're immediately jolting up, thinking she left you again. You're quick to take notice of the thick comforter keeping you tucked in. It still hurt to move, your body was so sore but you were more determined to go find Riri.

You toss the blanket over, revealing a fresh set of the aforementioned girls sweatpants snug on your legs and you can't seem to remember how you even got then on.

you groan obnoxiously, lifting yourself up to properly rub the sleep out of your eyes, "Riri!?" your voice was hoarse from *the possible* hours before.

You hear a faint "outside!" and have already kicked into your winter boots. And Riri doesn't need an announcement of your presence, she can feel you idling close by and pats her thigh, you gladly squeeze your way into her bulging arms, wrapping your own around her waist but under her puffer so you could steal some of her body heat.

Riri gets side tracked once again, with your weight ontop of hers, completely forgetting about dinner for a split second as she wraps her arms around you and hoists you further into her lap, her head falling comfortably ontop of your chest while your arms become a cloak around her neck.

She breathes in your scent a little and goosebumps are sprouting under the thick garments now, "Don't you wanna know what happened?"

"mhmn." you shrug your shoulders, you weren't really sure at all, mind still hazy and too busy dozing off in her arms. She was naturally very warm & cozy, almost like a living teddy especially when wearing the fluffy coat you got her and your thoughts becoming pinkish brown mush, vision slowly becoming black dots filling in a canvas as you pressed tighter into her hold, were evidence of that.

The doe-like fluttering of your lashes has her stumped, she's not going to make you stay up since it was her fault you were so worn out in the first place but, she was going to make sure you ate first.

Apparently, you ended up falling asleep against her somewhere down that line anyways because when you next open your eyes, its with a tubberware bowl full of some sweet smelling soup in her lap and a silver utensil, pokin your lip. You furrow your brows, still not all the way up yet and Riri chuckles, "Try it. It'll warm you up a little bit more."

You happily encourage her spoonfeeding it to you after this sliver of information, humming at the unique taste once it hits you. How she was able to skin and gut that deer with you in her arms the entire time, still unbeknownst to you.

This was supposed to be for Halloween but.. Well, I'll think of an excuse & comeback later 😚

🔖: @sapphicbarbz @shurislover @s0lam33y

(ty @lppriceisright for proof reading another fic for me!)

[neyswxrld]

catch the fox

fox x reader (gn)

summary: Snow sculpture exhibition with Fox!

warnings: none!

word count: ~580

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the tenth fic for my advent calendar!

p.s. english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for misspellings! 

"Snow sculptures?" he asks, skeptical.

"Yeah! Come on, Fox, it's going to be fun!" you try to excite him too, but it doesn't seem to work that well.

"What is fun about some sculptures made of snow? You look at them for five minutes tops, and then you move on," he shakes his head, still unconvinced.

"But the tickets are cheaper when you come with your partner," you try again, but this time a disbelieving huff leaves his lips.

"We have to pay something for that?" he wants to know, but more in a rhetorical way. You still decide to answer, "Come on. Those people have to live from something, too."

Fox sighs.

"What about that... We go to the exhibition, and if it's really that boring, we can go to that café you like so much," you suggest, throwing a metaphorical fishing rod in the water.

This time, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. The fish bites the bait.

"And I'll pay for your caf." you say the final phrase. He wouldn't be able to resist that offer.

"Fine."

You catch the fish... Or the Fox.

A few days later, you're standing in front of the exhibition.

The weather is cold, and there is snow everywhere, so Fox and you are wearing winter clothes. Warm mantles, soft beanies and red scarves. Of course.

Due to not having gloves, your hand sneaks into Fox's pocket, where it happily accompanies his hand, protected from the cold.

Excited, you buy the cheaper tickets with your free hand, and together you start walking through the rows of snow sculptures.

Soon, you realize that Fox was right.

The figures are pretty, and you can see how much work and passion people put into them, but well... It's just snow. After about ten minutes, you already feel boredom creep into your veins. You can't wait to go to the small coffee shop.

"You were right," both of you say at the exact same moment. Confused, you look at each other.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" you ask, thinking that you didn't understand him right.

"I said you were right. Those figures really are great," he says, "What was it you wanted to say?"

"I just wanted to say you were right, and we should go and buy some caf," you tell him, looking at him with confusion. "You like it?" you add with raised eyebrows, just to be sure.

"Yeah, look at the filigree work. And it's done with just snow! Isn't that fascinating?" he questions, pulling you a little bit forward.

"Yes, but... I look at them for five minutes tops, and then I move on," you quote him sheepishly.

"You need to examine the details more carefully," he explains, "Let's look at some more, please. Then we can go warm up in the café. How does that sound?"

With that said, you decide to do what he suggests. After some more walking around, you even see someone sculpting a new figure in a corner, and Fox wants to stay a bit longer to observe everything.

It's very cute how intrigued he is by those sculptures, and as time goes on, you realize that you could stay a little longer very well. But instead of looking at the snow, you look at Fox, enjoying the sight of his rarely careless face.

Later, you two still go to the café and enjoy a hot drink and a delicious snack together, extending your date just as planned.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Pursuit of Happiness 3: Three's Company

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family.  When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.  

Word Count: ~5.9k

Series Masterlist

3: Three’s Company

It had been four days since Chris stormed away from her backyard, and Kat hadn’t stopped feeling guilty. At the grocery store on Thursday afternoon, she thought she’d seen him down the cereal aisle and had taken a deep breath and started to walk towards him, mentally preparing her apology, before the man stood up and turned out to be very much not Chris. She’d scampered away before he noticed her.

She was pretty sure she’d pegged him incorrectly and with time to process, she realized she’d definitely jumped to conclusions about his appearances this week. Kat managed to get “review the company website” onto their Wednesday team meeting agenda and found that her face was not very visible; you had to click through several links to get to the founder's page and even then, it was the very last item on that page.

And her house backed up to public property. She couldn’t very well be angry with him for walking on a lakefront trail. Lots of people did that. Chris had been right, it was a public park and a public area; just because her backyard was on the trail didn’t mean she owned it, nor did it mean he’d intentionally come to her home.

None of her guilt had stopped her from feeling anxious about Chris and his sudden reappearance. She was so protective of her personal life; she’d grown up under her mother’s watchful, critical eye and then gotten dragged into every single one of said mother’s campaigns from the time she was in high school. It had started easy, just a little appearance now and then at a town event but suddenly Mallory’s sights kept getting bigger and bigger and she wanted her family with her. She threw them into interviews and photo ops and every opportunity to parade them around. One of Mallory’s favorite things to do was to deflect from a personal comment about her by offering up a personal tidbit about Kat instead.

So, the flutter in her stomach at the sight of Chris and the itch to feel his touch again made Kat more than a little apprehensive. She hadn’t been joking when she said she was suspicious of his motives. Important, wealthy guys like him could get whatever and whoever’s attention they wanted with a few phone calls- she’d watched most of the guys she went to high school with do it even then, but with Daddy’s name as their bait. Even if their run-ins this week had truly been coincidental, she couldn’t help feeling a little cynical at the idea of it all being entirely by chance.

Chris confused her and enticed her and made her head foggy for the whole week while she tried to navigate her feelings and hopefully push him entirely out of her mind. Alas, he was still on her mind Saturday morning while she got up, let Amelia out, and sat reading with her first cup of coffee from one of her HopeLives mugs– just like the ones she’d set out for everyone at the foundation. He popped into her mind as she pushed through the gate at the back of her yard and onto the path around the lake; she was picturing him stalking away from her. He was still on her mind when she planted herself on the park bench and sipped the warm coffee in her travel mug, before yanking her beanie tighter over her ears.

The November weather had turned from crisp to brisk in a matter of days. Every few minutes, a gust of seemingly Arctic wind would whip across the lake and chill Kat through her big red jacket, jeans, gloves, hat, and the ancient, crusty Uggs she refused to get rid of. They ruined almost every outfit at this point because they were so old and dirty, but she didn’t care. Every year she’d order a new set of fresh, cozy insoles and wear them all winter long to walk Amelia or do a quick run to the mailbox.

It was almost noon; she’d been sitting here for almost an hour while the sun occasionally poked out from behind the clouds. Kat killed the time making a mental list of items to pick up at the grocery store later, too cold to get out her phone and make a real one– that would require taking off her gloves. She was grateful the coffee was still warm and that Amelia was laying with her head in Kat’s lap on the park bench. It wasn’t quite freezing yet but it was cold enough with the ominous clouds lingering overhead and the air off the water.

You’d never know it was almost freezing based on Ollie.

He sat in the sandbox adjacent to the lake’s playground, digging with a tiny yellow shovel and carefully pouring his collection into a blue pail. His little brow furrowed in concentration as he moved in slow motion, reaching across his body with the shovel and dumping it with care. When he’d successfully added to the growing pile of sand in the bucket, he’d pause, look up at Kat with a proud grin, she’d return a thumbs up or a ‘great job!’ and then he’d do it all again.

If he was in charge, he’d sit out here all day, rain or shine or snow, and dig in this sandbox. He could pour sand into that bucket without interruption– it was essentially the only time he was still so Kat embraced the moment to sit down, even if it meant doing it outside on a November day in Massachusetts. She was convinced Amelia had some husky in her as she seemed to luxuriate in the cold rather than shiver as Kat was.

Kat forced herself off the bench, her bones creaking from sitting on the cold, hard surface for so long, and knelt on the edge of the sandbox. Amelia stared at her from her perch, entirely confused as to why the snuggling had ended, and then begrudgingly got down and sat dutifully next to Kat. Kat ran a gloved hand through the sand, making note of the way Ollie’s little fingers were bright red from the cold– he’d refused the mittens she brought with him and she’d decided that allowing him full dexterity was a sacrifice she’d make. “Hey bubs,” she leaned down to catch his attention, “five-minute warning, okay?”

When he nodded at her, she sat back on her haunches, continuing to watch his slow, careful activity. He’d been to the beach both of the last two summers– Mallory and Tim had a house on the Cape and had allowed Kat access to it whenever she wanted. She’d taken him once alone when he was hardly one, and then again last summer when her parents were also at the house, but he didn’t seem to remember. It wasn’t until about a month ago that they’d been on a walk around the lake with Amelia and he’d seen the sandbox as if it was the most incredible thing in the world.

His sweet little face lit up and he’d tottle towards it, crawling in without warning and dropping on his bum to run his hands through the course sand, grinning up at Kat. They’ve visited every weekend since then. Each time they came, they brought his yellow shove, his blue pail, and nothing else. He needed nothing else to get literally hours of enjoyment and Kat was not about to stop him.

Except she was about to stop him because the timer would go off any minute and she needed to start the fireplace at home and restore some feeling to her appendages. She didn’t know how she was going to explain to Ollie that the sandbox wasn’t a four-season activity in Massachusetts; at some point, she’d have to cut him off and she knew it would be devastating. Two-year-old tantrums are no joke. Not quite old enough to get it, but old enough to be pissed.

Miraculously, Ollie left the sandbox gracefully, holding his small shovel and pail in one hand and Kat’s hand in the other as they started towards the path back home. Kat kept up a running conversation with her son, babbling to him and engaging in his toddler talk– some of which was coherent, but much of which wasn’t��� as Amelia tracked the path for other dogs to greet, wild animals to hunt, or new human friends to play with.

“Should we go to the grocery store before or after lunch,” Kat asked him, looking down at her favorite human and listening to him ramble off a string of words, several of which she could comprehend but many were still garbled. “Okay then, let’s go home and play, and then we can have lunch, take a nap, and go to the grocery store, sound good?”

Ollie was babbling again when Kat looked up, tugging on Amelia’s leash to get her attention and reign her back in. She was waggling frantically; Kat followed her line of vision and her eyes first hit a happy, fluffy, tan, and white pup looking equally frantic to get to Amelia. Kat’s heart thudded harder in her chest when her eyes trailed up the red leash the dog was on, up the arm of the unassuming owner, and into the eyes of Chris.

He was in tan boots, jeans, and a huge, black winter coat, and on his head was a Red Sox cap. He didn’t notice her at first, he was staring straight ahead watching his dog and trying to keep control of him just as Kat was with Amelia. When he looked around to figure out what had captured Dodger’s attention, he saw Amelia’s joyful face first. Quickly, his memory kicked in of that day almost a week ago when he’d been standing at a white picket fence, petting a sweet dog… that sweet dog… Kat Littleman’s sweet dog. His eyes moved slowly from the dog, up the leash, the arm, the shoulder, and up to Kat’s face. He was about to give Kat a curt nod when he noticed the third figure with them.

The small boy in a navy blue dinosaur winter coat and an aviator hat lined with sherpa fleece was clutching Kat’s hand and staring up at her adoringly. Kat had come to a stop on the path, looking like a deer in headlights while she stared at Chris. Amelia was entirely out of her control, stretching to the end of her leash and straining her wiggling body towards Dodger.

While Kat was still in a trance staring at Chris, her thoughts went immediately to the day at the fence and how bad she’d ended up feeling about it. In all honesty, if she’d had his number, she probably would’ve called him to apologize. Or at least sent a text. People walked by the house all the time. It was not uncommon to run into a client from the foundation, a friend from yoga, or even someone she’d been on a date with before.

She’d been a little taken aback at his comment about not being memorable– she’d thought the evening was pretty memorable. Kat had the image of herself coming undone on his hand and his cock burned into her memory. She’d also been wearing out the batteries of her vibrator trying to achieve the same intense climax she’d gotten with Chris that night.

Standing in the middle of the path, gazing right back at Kat, Chris was reminding himself of all the ways she had made it clear she wasn’t interested. He’d stalked back around the lake and to his car after leaving her yard last week and brooded about her attitude, and her bitchy demeanor, and tried to place blame. He also realized that, from her perspective, it was awfully strange that he’d shown up twice in one day seemingly by accident.

Truth be told, if he wanted to, he could’ve gotten access to her workplace or address. A few calls from his assistant to the right people, name drop in the right place, and people fell at his feet. He tried not to flex that too often, but occasionally it was helpful. So yeah, if he’d wanted to find her, he could’ve tried harder and dug deeper and actually planned to run into her. But he hadn’t done that! He’d been trying to work! He’d been trying to go for a goddamn walk with his dog! He’d just happened to stumble upon her workplace and then her home…

But no, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in him, so he was not about to give her the satisfaction of looking flustered. It didn’t matter that his heart was in his throat. It didn’t matter that he could still hear the pretty noises she’d made as he’d made her come. It. Didn’t. Matter.

And… there was a child with her.

Could she have a child? Was she married or had a boyfriend and that was why she was so desperate to leave what happened in DC behind?

“Chris, hi,” Kat’s breathy, nervous voice pulled at his heartstrings and made him want to move closer to her. He resisted.

“Am I allowed to walk here?” Her face looked startled at his brash response and just as quickly her face flushed and she averted her eyes. He immediately felt guilty; he was letting his emotions get the best of him. Fuck, Chris, why would you say that? “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I probably deserved that,” she played with the dog’s leash in her hand and took a step toward Chris and Dodger. She raised her eyebrows at Chris, looking between the dogs and then back at him and he nodded, letting Dodger’s leash loosen so they could greet each other. “This is Amelia,” Kat explained, watching the dogs come together.

“Dodger.”

A silence fell between the gathered group while everyone watched Dodger and Amelia sniff at each other, their tails beating hard enough they might’ve been able to propel a small airplane. Chris’s eyes kept drifting over to the little boy who was grinning at the dogs and reaching for them. Kat kept his hand tucked into hers.

“He’s really friendly and good with kids. I have nieces and nephews.” Chris offered, looking at the boy and not Kat.

Kat looked between Chris and Ollie and then tugged on his hand to get his attention. His little face looked up at hers and she couldn’t help but grin. Chris noticed the dimples in her cheeks and his heart swelled. “You can say hi to Dodger, Ol,” she nodded toward the dogs and watched him take a step away from her and drop her hand, giggling as he reached for the dogs with his pudgy little fingers.

“Who’s this?” Chris finally asked, taking in the gentle way both dogs greeted the boy. He watched Kat’s face as she took a calming breath and then looked him dead in the eye.

“This is my son, Oliver. He’s almost two.” Her response hung in the air between them. Chris didn’t have a right to be upset if a woman he’d slept with once didn’t disclose her motherhood, but somehow he wished he’d known. He wished they’d had enough of a rapport to share that kind of information. He wanted it with her; why he did was still a mystery to him. He still couldn’t understand what drew him so strongly to Kathrine Littleman, but he found himself standing here in this park, watching her son play with his dog, and feeling a little slighted that he didn’t know. He tried to shake it off.

Chris settled on a response that every parent loved, “he’s a cutie.”

Kat’s face split into a true grin when she looked at her son lovingly, “thank you,” she paused and then bit her bottom lip. Chris could see the wheels turning as she glanced at him, then back to the dogs, then back up at him again. “Listen, Chris, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell your one night stand you have a kid,” Chris laughed even though he felt very differently, “no problem.”

“No,” Kat looked at him with an expression he couldn't place, “I mean I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you last week. It was uncalled for.”

“Oh, that,” Chris rocked on his heels, “don’t worry about it.”

“I was really rude. I’m sorry I reacted like that. It just seemed so strange and impossible to be coincidental and I realize now that I was too harsh.”

He was about to say something like ‘don’t worry about it’ but the next few moments happened in slow motion. Ollie had tottered in between the two dogs with his arms outstretched. He was rubbing both of them and giggling while the dogs leaned into him. Both Dodger and Amelia were in constant motion, twisting and turning to get access to each other and to lick Ollie’s face— still sticky with leftover syrup from breakfast.

Innocently enough, a squirrel scampered into the path a few feet ahead for a fallen nut; it froze when both dogs immediately noticed it. Dodger and Amelia moved as one towards the squirrel, their playful demeanor was gone and now on the prowl. Ollie, caught up between them and their leashes, was knocked down face-first on the asphalt.

His wail was almost instantaneous, but for a moment, both Chris and Kat had been yanked several steps forward by the dogs, who were pulling full force toward the escaping squirrel. Ollie’s sobs pulled Kat’s attention and she yelled, “Amelia!” Yanking on the leash and looking over her shoulder at Ollie, who was struggling to sit up with his big coat.

“I’ve got them,” Chris reached over and took the leash, pulling both dogs back the best he could. He was strong, but their hunter modes had been activated and they were fiercely refusing to budge.

Kat fell to her knees in front of Ollie. She was usually a patient mom, allowing him a moment before she scooped him up. But this was new. His screams and cries were different than he’d ever had before and she lifted him to her shoulder whispering, “I got you, baby. Mommy’s got you,” while she got to her feet.

She turned to Chris, reaching out for Amelia’s lead, but he shook her off, “I’ll walk back with you. Your hands are full.” Ollie’s sobs in her ears made her head ring and she just nodded, starting back around the lake at a brisk pace. For a few paces, Chris was still wrangling the dogs, but quickly they were beside her. Ollie clung to her shoulders; each time he pressed his little face into her, he wailed louder. She’d never heard him like this and she felt her anxiety rising and a prickle of sweat along the back of her neck as she picked up her speed.

The backyard was in sight and she was all but running to get to it, letting Chris take a step ahead and pull the back gate open and not stopping when she got to the back door. She crashed into it, forgetting, in her rising panic, that she’d locked it and Ollie let out another screech when he bounced off her shoulder. She fumbled in her coat, trying to flap her gloves off for better access, when Chris was again beside her asking, “Which pocket?”

“Back left.”

Any other moment she would’ve thought about the feeling of his hands moving her coat to the side and sliding into her jeans pocket, all but cupping her ass as his fingers had to reach all the way into the pocket to get the small bunch of keys, but right now, she pushed the tingle away and stepped aside to let him unlock the door.

She set Ollie on the kitchen counter and immediately noticed the blood trailing down from a cut on his forehead. Kat got him out of his jacket and then stripped off her own, plus her gloves and hat, uncharacteristically leaving them in a pile on the floor. As Kat examined the cut, Chris lightly touched her lower back, reminding her he was still in the room, and softly said, “Tell me where your first aid stuff is, and I’ll get it.”

Kat just looked at him a moment, somehow in a daze, and then she nodded, giving him directions to the laundry room with the first aid kit. Both dogs trailed him– Dodger to explore the new smells and Amelia out of curiosity at what this man was doing in her house. All three returned; Amelia got comfortable in her bed by the fireplace, Dodger making himself just as comfortable practically on top of her in the same bed, and Chris passed behind Kat, running his hand lightly along her back, and set the kit next to Ollie, opening it and starting to pull out antiseptic wipes, ointment, and bandages.

With the help of lots of hugs and a gentle chant of, “You’re safe now, I got you, baby,” his sobs had subsided and he was now only sniffling. His tears and the blood had mingled down his cheek and Kat used a wet paper towel to wipe up some of it, before getting to work bandaging up the cut. It was bigger than she’d realized, but not very deep, so she let Chris hand her supplies and then handed used items to him to discard. When Ollie would yelp or sniffle, Kat would stop to soothe him and Chris would put a hand on Kat’s shoulder or back, doing what he thought would feel comfortable at the moment.

Twenty minutes later and a cup of chocolate milk later, Kat had soothed Ollie entirely and had planted him on the comfy sofa with an episode of Bluey playing. Dodger had immediately left his spot with Amelia and joined Ollie on the sofa; Amelia, not to be outdone, settled in on his other side. Ollie grinned at both of them, his little bandaged forehead wrinkling when his face lit up. Kat turned to start cleaning up the mess she’d created in the kitchen. To her surprise, the jackets and accessories were no longer on the floor, nor were their boots, and the first aid kit was no longer on the counter. Chris came back into view as she finished processing and he smiled at her, putting his hands on his hips.

The silence stretched between them, only occasionally broken by the soft giggles that Bluey elicited from Ollie. They watched each other tentatively, neither knowing exactly how to move forward. It was certainly new territory for both of them. How often do you end up standing in a cozy kitchen and listening to a children’s cartoon with the person you had a one-night-stand with weeks before?

It felt like middle school; they kept making eye contact and then neither knew what to do or say, so they’d blush furiously and avert their eyes only to do it again seconds later. After a solid minute, Kat finally started to move across the kitchen toward the fridge. Chris was still hovering by one of the barstools with his hands shoved in his pockets. She started to pull things out of the fridge and freezer, piling them on the kitchen counter, and then moved to the pantry, gathering more items before pulling out a pot, a huge cast-iron pan, a stack of plates, and two glasses.

She filled one with water from the filter on the fridge and slid it across the island to where Chris was standing and watching her. She gave him a tentative smile and then turned back around to the gathered items and asked, “Grilled cheese?”

Chris was silent while he took a sip of water, suddenly realizing how dry his throat had become just watching her in her home… with her son… He hadn’t thought twice about making sure the three of them got home okay and that Ollie wasn’t seriously injured. It had just felt normal, natural to walk next to her with the dogs, to listen to her talk to her son, and to offer her a comforting touch. And then suddenly he’d had his hand cupping her ass while he tried not to grope for her house key. They’d moved together with surprising ease when he grabbed the first aid supplies and played nursemaid while she bandaged and soothed Ollie. Then cleaning up had been easy– he could see how nervous she’d gotten when Ollie was hurt, and cleaning up the kitchen was the least he could do.

Now she was moving around her kitchen again, heating frozen soup from a Tupperware container and melting butter in the cast iron. Her hips swayed ever so slightly with each movement and he wanted to put his hands on them, to feel the curve of her ass again.

“Chris?”

Fuuuuuck she was staring at him. No longer was she moving casually around the kitchen but she had one hip leaning against the counter, her hand resting lightly on the other, and she was staring at him with an eyebrow quirked.

“Uhh–”

“Would you like a grilled cheese sandwich? I’m going to make lunch for Ollie and me. I have some soup too if you’d like it.”

“Yeah,” he said too quickly and cleared his throat, “yeah, that would be great, thank you. Can I help?”

She shook her head, turning back to the stove, “How long have you had Dodger?”

Chris jumped into the story of meeting Dodger and Kat was glad he couldn’t see her face blushing, and even if he had, she would’ve blamed it on her face hovering over the hot pans. The silence was killing her. She was normally so comfortable in silence– she was happy in her own company or just with Ollie and Amelia. The silence was golden– especially as a toddler mom. But the silence that stretched between the two of them was… charged.

It was far from awkward.

It was the kind of silence that falls between two people who’ve fucked. And are thinking about what it would be like to do it again.

Kat could feel his eyes on her every time she turned around. She tested her theory, swinging her hips ever so slightly to the Bluey theme song from the next room and listening to the counter stool scratch on the floor as he rearranged his position. Then she “dropped” the dish towel and bent over to pick it up, followed by a grunt, covered quickly by a cough and a gulp of water.

Eventually, she was out of items to prep at the stove and had to start putting dishes in the sink, which put her face-to-face with him. She caught his eye again while he watched her push up the sleeves of her sweater and his Adam’s apple bobbed. How her exposed forearm was attractive was a mystery to Kat, but Chris was squirming from his seat. He’d finished telling her about meeting Dodger and an electric silence had fallen between them again.

“What about Amelia?”

Kat laughed, running a sponge over the spatula, “Ames found me. When I was still living in Hartford I was out for a run one morning. There was an animal adoption fair going on in the park and a pen of rescued puppies had broken. The puppies had escaped and the volunteers were frantic. I passed them while I was running and just tried to stay out of the way. Next thing I know there was this little fluffy delight keeping pace with me. She stayed with me for almost half a mile before I finally stopped laughing at her and thought about taking her back.”

“And the name?”

“Oh well, when I took her back to the adoption folks we all kept making jokes about her running away and, you know, taking flight. I have a slightly too intense fascination with Amelia Earhart… it just seemed to fit.”

Chris nodded, watching fondly as Kat spoke about Amelia. She’d pulled her attention away from Chris and was looking towards the sofa with a soft smile. Without warning she walked away from the kitchen and into the living room. He watched her lean over the back of the sofa and kiss Ollie’s head before she was ruffling Amelia’s fur. The dog craned her neck back and leaned into Kat. Chris took it all in, the tender moment with Kat’s children, the strip of skin exposed when she leaned over, her ass in the air, and then Dodger’s jealousy taking over when he sprawled across Ollie to join the snuggles. Both Ollie and Kat giggled, and Chris couldn’t stop his own grin.

Kat laughed again when she came back to the island, washing her hands and turning back to the stove. “Sorry, I can’t resist them sometimes, they’re just so cute.”

“I get it, Dodge is the love of my life.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty big sentiment,” Kat glanced over her shoulder with a smirk as she dropped bread into the heated pan with a soft sizzle.

Chris shrugged, “I’ve never had a relationship as pure as that one.” “Is he your first dog?”

“No way, I’ve had others, I’ve had girlfriends who’ve had dogs that I loved dearly, but no one has ever been quite like Dodger. He’s just… well, I had his name tattooed on me, and I’ve never had a woman I’ve come close to doing that with.”

Kat laughed, “Okay, so we’re speaking truths today I guess.”

“Sorry,” Chris laughed, “too much?”

“I’m teasing you. I get it. People don’t get it when I say similar things about Ollie or Amelia. But there are just some souls that you feel a deeper connection to. I don’t mean I want to marry my son or my dog. I just mean that they’re…” she trailed off, looking sheepish and putting her focus back on the pan in front of her.

“I know what you mean,” he said softly, moving around the island as she put two grilled cheeses on the cutting board beside her. He started to slice the first one into small pieces and Kat did a double take.

“How did you know to do that for Ollie?”

“This isn’t for Ollie, I’m just a Hollywood diva and chewing takes too much effort,” Chris held her eyes and kept a straight face for several seconds, causing Kat to stare at him and start to stutter. He broke into a grin and shook his head, returning to cut, “My sister has kids.”

“The diva thing seemed legit,” Kat smirked at him, earning her hip bump from Chris. Kat’s heart sped up at the simple, flirty move and she tried to focus on not burning the next sandwiches in the pan.

After cutting the sandwich, he plated it on a little wooden owl plate that Kat had waiting on the counter and carried it to the kitchen table where Ollie’s high chair stood. He went back and grabbed the rest of the supplies, setting the table for lunch for the three of them. Kat gathered Ollie and buckled him in while Dodger and Amelia circled like sharks under him, waiting for dropped cheese, before Kat kicked them out and back into the bed by the fireplace. Ollie’s babbling, singing, and giggling kept the adults entertained and their focus off of each other for the whole meal. Kat watched as Chris interacted with Ollie, leaning in intently and nodding along while Ollie rambled. Chris would ramble right back and they’d both roar with laughter while they made goofy faces at each other.

She finished ahead of them and sat back in her seat, watching the two of them, and thinking about the moment she’d never seen Ollie share with any other man. Her father, when they were around, was a loving grandfather but wasn’t nearly as animated– unless he was holding Ollie and explaining the football lineups. Ben and Kevin Facetimed with Ollie frequently, but it was hard for a 20-month-old to sustain his attention. He’d truly never had a man give him this kind of undivided attention. It was both endearing and terrifying to see how quickly they settled into a rapport after being perfect strangers two hours ago.

“Finished, Momma,” Ollie turned to Kat covered in tomato soup and waving his hands in sign language. She moved to get up, but Chris held a hand out to her, popping the last of his crust in his mouth.

“I got ya, little dude,” he scooped Ollie out of the high chair and onto the floor. Quick as a flash, he had his plate and Ollie’s in the dishwasher before leaning down on his knees to get on the toddler’s level. “Can you show me your favorite toy?”

Ollie grinned and nodded, grabbing Chris’s hand in his and tugging him towards the playroom. He dropped to the ground commanding, “Sit,” to Chris before starting to pull out his favorite train set. Kat sat frozen at the table, watching it all unfold in awe. Chris immediately set to work building a track and letting Ollie bark directions at him while he followed the best he could.

Kat used the moment of peace to finish cleaning up, glancing back at the two every so often to find them still amid construction with the occasional “choo chooooo” noise from one of them as a train traveled the tracks.

When she’d run out of things to clean and put away, she wandered into the adjoining living room and continued to watch them for a few minutes before she finally had to intervene. “Ol, we’ve got to go up for a nap, buddy. Can you say goodbye to Chris?”

“I should get out of your hair anyway,” Chris got to his feet as Kat scooped Ollie into his arms; he dropped his head onto her shoulder and rubbed his eyes, reminding Kat that she didn’t have too long to chat.

“Thank you,” she looked at Chris, allowing her eyes to bounce between his to capture him in a serious moment. “Seriously, for getting us back here in my panic and then for entertaining him. I appreciate it a lot.”

Chris shrugged, waving her off, “Anytime, I’m happy to hang with him,” he reached out to ruffle Ollie’s hair.

Their eyes met again and lingered, Kat unintentionally biting her lip and Chris’s eyeline following the movement. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she stepped forward and slid an arm around Chris’s waist, Ollie’s head still resting on her shoulder. She perched up on her toes and went to kiss his cheek.

Chris turned at the last moment, connecting their lips and taking the chance to hold her waist. Kat immediately reciprocated his kiss, leaning into him briefly before her brain caught up with her body; as quick as it started, it stopped and she jumped away from him.

“Shit,” he muttered, “I’m sorry– I just–”

“It’s fine. I should… I’m going to just… I need to put him down.” Chris nodded, “Dodger and I will head home.”

Kat stared at him, her mind racing, her heart thumping loudly in her chest, and forced herself to walk away and up the stairs.

[wonder-womans-ex]

Borders

Or: Five Times They Argued and One Time They Didn’t 

cw: food, americans 

1. 

"Mmph." Logan snuggled further down in bed. "My ears are cold." 

"And what do you want me to do about that?" Finn's smile was cheeky, but his tone caring. 

"I need my toque." 

A pause. "Your what now?" 

"Toque." 

"What?"

"My fucking toque, goddammit."

“Is that English? Because you know I don’t speak French.” 

Logan threw his hands up. “Yes, it’s English! Merde, do I really have to do it myself?” He peeled back the covers, flinching as the cold air hit his legs. 

Finn watched as Logan stalked over to the closet, standing on his tiptoes to reach the basket on top. Two scarves and a glove fell out onto the floor before Logan finally pulled out what he was looking for. 

“Lo, that’s a beanie.”

“This is a toque.”

“Beanie.” 

“It’s a fucking toque.”

“This is another of your Canadian things, isn’t it?”

“I’d say it’s one of your American things.” 

2. 

“You missed the U.” 

“What?”

“The U.” Logan pointed at Leo’s screen. “You need a U between the O and the R.” 

“...No, I don’t.”

“Everyone knows it’s ‘neighbourhood,’ not ‘neighborhood.’”

“Well,” Leo said smugly, “How come spellcheck says it’s right?” 

“Spellcheck is a fucking idiot. It doesn’t recognize ‘centre,’ either.” 

“Wait, it doesn’t?” Leo searched his keyboard for the C, and then picked out the word letter by letter. “Yes it does.”

“You’ve mixed up the R and the E, mon couer. It doesn’t say it’s wrong until you switch them.”

“Yeah, because it’s wrong!”

“Let me see that.” Logan reached over Leo’s shoulder, fingers dancing over the keys. “Watch this.”

The was a pause as Logan typed out a few words, and then, “See? ‘Colour,’ ‘favour,’ ‘labour,’ ‘flavour.’ 'Neighbourhood,’ just like I told you. Your spellcheck isn’t working.”

“It is working! There is no U in ‘colour!’” 

“Of course there is.”

“No! Look!” 

Logan watched with skepticism as Leo opened google, searched ‘color,’ and hit the enter key. 

Leo’s grin was smug. “See? It picks up just fine.” 

“Well, try it with the U.” 

Leo did, and then he laughed. “Well, that explains it.”

“What?”

“Here—it says ’color’ is the spelling used in the United States. ‘Colour’ is used in other English-speaking countries. We were both right.”

“Well, I was more right. America needs to get on the same wave as, oh, every other English-speaking country in the world.” 

3. 

"Well, when I was in grade four—”

“Fourth grade,” Finn corrected automatically. 

“Canadian, remember?” 

4.

“I want a beavertail.”

Leo and Finn looked at each other, hesitant to take the bait. Finally, Leo said tentatively, “A what now?”

“A beavertail.”

“And what are you going to do with this beaver tail?”

“Eat it, of course. What else would I do?”

“You’re going to eat a beaver’s tail?”

“Beavertail. One word.” Logan gasped. “Oh my god, you really don’t have beavertails in America? That’s a Canadian thing?”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

“I’m really not.”

“What did you think, Lo? It’s called a beavertail. Beaver. Tail. How much more Canadian can you get?”

“They have beavers in the states, too!”

“Yes, but we don’t worship them!” 

“We do not worship beavers!”

“No, that’s the moose, isn’t it?”

“Says the guys with the country who puts eagles on everything!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Leo put in. “Calm down. Logan, don’t shout at Finn for being oblivious to your obscure Canadian customs. Finn, don’t incite the angry Canadian.”

“I don’t believe this!” Logan, though he would never admit it, was pouting. “You’re on his side!”

“To be fair, I’d never heard of a beavertail before two minutes ago, either.”

Sticking his tongue out, Logan crossed his arms. “Fine. But next time we play in Canada, I’m introducing you to the magic of beavertail. With nutella.”

5. 

“Jello salad.”

“What?”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Look, Logan, do you have a point? Because I’m trying to sleep.”

“My point is that you got mad at me for putting maple syrup on my bacon, and yet you come from the country that eats jello salad. I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“You’re talking to me right now, Lo.”

“Jello salad!”

“For a guy who is so opposed to the idea of Jello salad, you seem to enjoy saying a lot.” 

“Because it’s disgusting.”

“Wait, how do you even know about Jello salad?” 

“...I looked up ‘weird things Americans eat.”

“Of course you did.” 

+1.

“We can all agree that the Electoral College is fucked up, right?” As he spoke, Logan slung his backpack off his shoulder onto the couch. 

Finn snorted. “Hello to you too.”

“Yeah,” Leo called from the kitchen.  

“Oh thank god.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise I’d have to break up with you.” 

.

okay as a canadian this was hilarious to write so please tell me what you think :) 

props to @spookypotato and @im-oknutzy-trash because the bits about the beavertail and the toque are basically actual interactions I had with them 

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Silent Night

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Am I allowed to look at her like that? Could it be wrong When she's just so nice to look at?

I'd never tell No, I'd never say a word And oh, it aches But it feels oddly good to hurt

Chapter One     Chapter Two    Chapter Three

Summary: Winter break promises soft moments in the snow and laughter... or does it? There’s a darkness looming ahead and it’s harder to escape now than ever before. It doesn’t help at all with how you two feel about another.

A/N: Alright! Y’all told me to follow my heart so here’s about 7k words of a winter holiday that has fluff and angst. Also She by Dodie was on repeat as I wrote this (the lyrics are above). If you’re like me and need music to read, give that song a shot. Also I 100% stan Narcissa in this chapter. There were a lot more cute moments I wanted to add, and rewrote a lot of this, so if you want a headcanon list of things that were going to happen let me know! (Welcome to Christmas in the middle of the summer)

~

Miss Y/n,

It delights me that you have invited us to your home for the holiday. Draco speaks adamantly about you whenever his father is not around. I must apologize for having him keep you from his father’s knowledge. I know it pains him to have to keep you hidden, but I fear at the moment it is for the best.

I must thank you for your understanding and kindness. The burden that he bears is steep and I wish nothing more to see him through it and to keep him safe. You have taken years off of his eyes and heart and now I can begin see my young son shining through.

Draco and I will accompany you for the holiday. Lucius will be away all of the winter holiday and I feel as if it would do Draco some good to see you as it aided him over the summer holiday. I have written a letter to your mother as well, so she is aware. Draco will arrive in the morning of the 24th and I shall join him later in the evening for dinner.

You are a bright and wonderful young wizard with a heart so pure to see what I see in my son. The same thing that keeps us both fighting for him. Thank you for everything you have given. I am in your debt for bringing back my son even for a little while.

Narcissa Malfoy

~

I read the letter again as I sat in bed late at night. Tomorrow would be the day that Draco came for Christmas and butterflies had a permanent residence in my chest. I put the energy to good use and spent the few days scrubbing the entire house top to bottom and decorating every square inch. Mother taught me a few new cleaning spells to use and I was getting pretty good at them.

The morning came and I was up before the sun making sure that everything was perfect for when Draco would get here. Not that I thought he would judge me for anything out of place, but I had a sinking feeling that he hadn’t had a proper Christmas in a while, and I wanted things to be almost perfect if not completely.

Keeping myself busy with peeling and cutting apples for a pie, I heard the doorbell ring and almost tripped on my way to opening it.

Draco was there, an amused smile on his face as his eyes darted over my form.

“Hi,” I breathed out, grinning.

“Hello,” His expression was amused and his voice quiet. “Nice apron,”

I flushed, remembering I donned my grandmothers cooking apron that had tiny little snitches buzzing about the fabric.

It wasn’t fair that he looked so angelic on my front porch, almost at home among the snow. He was a bit more formal than I was used to seeing him: a blazer and turtleneck all in dark colors. It only enhanced the contrast of his pale features and the snow. I led him inside, closing the door. Shedding his jacket and setting down his bag, he followed me to the kitchen where I continued to chop apples. He took one, unpeeled from my pile and took a bite.

“Those are mine,” I baited. “Now you have to help,” As if it were the only option.

“Oh, I do? Do I?” He smirked, taking another bite and grabbing a knife.

He watched me for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure what to do before he began to slice the apples the way I did, narrowly missing his fingers a few times. I tried hard not to laugh as I finished chopping up two to his half of one.

It earned me a small pout from him. Laughing this time, I pecked his cheek and took our harvest and a large bowl filled with the rest of the filling ingredients and tossed them in, mixing them with my hands until they were all incorporated evenly. Draco studied me all the while.

“Can you hand me a pie crust from the fridge?” I asked, rinsing my hands. Frowning at the refrigerator he opened it and scanned the shelves.

“Middle shelf, blue ceramic,” I hinted.

He pulled the right dish out and set it on the counter. I lifted the bowl of filling and started to pan it into the doughy crust.

“Here,” I nudged him and nodded to the precut strips of dough on the counter. “We weave them to make a lattice.”

I showed him how to do the first few then left him to it, watching his slender fingers with such care create the woven pattern. Taking a fork, I pressed down the sides of the dough, sealing them then placing the pie in the fridge to be baked later.

“I think that was the most muggle thing I’ve ever done,” he muttered softly, pulling me into his arms properly for the first time since he arrived.

“Not too bad I hope?”

“Nothing unbearable,” he teased.

“Oh, Draco,” my mother greeted making us jump apart. “I didn’t hear you come in darling,”

“Mrs. Y/l/n,” Draco greeted politely.

“It’s so nice of you to join us. Y/n has hardly been able to keep quiet about your arrival,”

I flushed red and rolled my eyes nonchalantly and Draco chuckled, offering his hand for my mother to shake.

“Thank you for the invitation,” I recognized the tone he use: the same one that was present at the Ball from the summer, the one he used when he had someone to impress.

“None of that, really,” My mother scoffed pulling him into a hug that made me laugh. “You’re family here,” She insisted the turned to me. “Well cookies still need to be made before tonight, Y/n you know what to do. I’ll be out for a bit,” my mother gave me a hug before hurrying out the door.

“Cookies?” Draco mused sounding unsure.

I grinned and took out the ingredients to make sugar cookies from scratch and taught Draco how to make them. He padded around my small kitchen in cashmere socks. It warmed my heart to see him so domestic.

Rolling out the dough, I started to press the cookie cutters into the thin confectionary and Draco crowded next to me, taking another cutter and stamping the dough. Preheating the oven, I left him to cut out the little shapes as I began to work on peeling potatoes and sweet potatoes.

“Don’t you have house elves?” He asked, leaning against the counter, finishing his apple, watching me.

“No,” I spoke softly. “Father never liked the notion, and I guess mother kept it that way...” I took a breath in. “And these skills aren’t the worst things to know,” I smiled. “Will you start dicing these?” I gestured to the peeled potatoes with my peeler.

“I suppose,” He mused, picking up the same knife we had used for apples and began to cut the potatoes into small cubes.

When the oven went off, I got up and slipped as many trays of cookies as I could into the oven and set the timer. Throwing the cubed potatoes into a pot, I filled it with water about half-way and set it on the stove to boil.

Draco followed me around the kitchen all morning, helping where he could, confused about some things I did, but there was an explanation for everything. Around lunchtime my mother returned, arms filled with parcels and packages. Last minute shopping I supposed. She shooed us out of the kitchen and outside after lunch.

After a short argument—I didn’t see a need for things like gloves, a scarf or a beanie, but Draco put his foot down and bundled me up—Draco and I were both clad in winter gear and walking outside along the few acres that my mother and I shared together. Our hands intertwined; we didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the quiet moment together. The butterflies in my chest fluttered happily.

“Want to let Pinnae fly?” He asked, thoughtful.

“Maybe later,” I leaned against him. “Don’t wanna fly when you’re still on the ground,”

I caught his eyeroll in the corner of my vision and the redness on his cheeks darken slightly.

“My mother is quiet taken with you; you know.” Draco gave off-hand.

I hummed in acknowledgement thinking of the letter sitting on my bedside table. We meandered around the grounds, heading back to the front porch and inside to warm up.

“Reading anything riveting?” Draco teased as we curled up in the den by the fire.

I laughed softly and stood, taking his hand. I ignored his questioning and led him to the room adjacent from mine: my studio. The entire back wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves holding all of the books, both muggle and wizarding, I had collected over the years.

_________________________________

Draco stared at the wall of books and trinkets. Some he recognized: old textbooks from prior years and items like a Sneakscope and Timeturner. Some things were clearly muggle: the pictures that didn’t move or the snow-globes that weren’t enchanted.

He had never seen so many muggle books resting so peacefully next to wizarding books. Some were new and the gold leaf still shined at him whereas others were dull and faded and he could barely make out the titles. Carefully he ran his fingers over the spine of the nearest book.

“Pride and Prejudice?” He muttered, frowning looking at the cluster of Jane Austen books.

“Sense and Sensibility is better,” You mumbled, and his eyes flickered to the well-worn book beside its sister. “And it’s too complicated for me to try and pay attention to right now. Get out of Jane Austen,” You advised, pulling him a bit further down.

“Of Mice and Men?” He mused, looking at the smaller book that was also well worn. 

“Ugh,” You scoffed. “Awful ending.”

“Then why are you keeping it?” He gave you a pointed look.

“Not all books have happy endings, it would be stupid to only keep the ones that did,” You whispered softly.

His eyes followed the names of the books not being able to distinguish one from another— Animal Farm, The Princess Bride, Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies, The Great Gatsby, The Scarlett Letter, The Crucible, The Phantom of the Opera, Fahrenheit 451. His eyes passed over your Chronicles of Narnia collection, one book missing—the one that he had.

“Romeo and Juliet?” His eyebrows furrowed.

The name was familiar to him for some reason. The book nested between Taming of the Shrew and Macbeth.

A laugh bubbled through your lips, a quiet amused sound.

“That’s worse than Pride and Prejudice,” You giggled. “Have you ever read Shakespeare?”

His eyes flashed to yours. You knew that answer. No, of course he hadn’t. Rolling your eyes, you took the book of the shelf and flipped to a random page of the wellworn book.

“Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. 

What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, 

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part 

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! 

What's in a name? that which we call a rose 

By any other name would smell as sweet;”

You looked at him and he blinked, his mind unravelling the words. It was almost worse than Divination books.

“They’re plays,” You explained. “Takes a lot of studying and there are versions that have a bit more updated English, but well,” You shrugged and slipped the book back into its place.

“Are they all like that?” He asked, looking at the row of Shakespeare books.

“Pretty much,” You sighed. “Here,” You reached across him and next to your Austen books, pulled out a book. “This should be a good book to read.”

“A Christmas Carol?” He read the title off the faded cover.

“It’s a classic,” You took his hand again and he let you lead him downstairs and back to the small sitting room with the lit fire and curled up on the couch under an afghan.

You began to read A Christmas Carol, and again he was lost in your words and expressions:

“Marely was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.

Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.

Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail”

Just as you began to read of the first ghost that came to Scrooge on Christmas Eve, your mother came into the small den.

“Y/n, Draco’s mother will be here within the hour, you need to get ready,” She eyed your casual attire of jeans and an oversized sweater.

You huffed and handed Draco the book, he kept the page and watched you head upstairs, sulking only slightly. It was such a you thing to do—complaining about being taken away from your book and forced to prepare to socialize.

Your mother hovered in the den and took a seat at the armchair adjacent to the sofa he resided on. He tensed, ready for backlash against the something he must have done wrong, but an amused smile reached your mother’s lips—one that he had seen on you more than a fair share of times. You didn’t look much like your mother, the only thing Draco found was that you two shared the same smile.

“I have to thank you Draco,” She spoke softly. “She is my entire world since her father passed, and I always feared that she would never let herself open up. You have done her a lot of good, and I know that her father would approve of you,” There was your smile on her lips again.

“I must thank you as well,” Draco spoke in the same soft manor. “For allowing her to be with me and for Pinnae. I know she probably would have found a way to do it anyway, but it means the world to her to have your support, as it does to me,” His eyes met the same shade as your eyes as he looked up—another similarity. “And I must apologize for the last month of summer. I thought I was keeping her safe by keeping her away,”

“All is forgiven, darling,” The pet name on your mother’s lips reminded him of his own mother’s habit. “Merlin knows I’ve tried to keep her from things to keep her safe... but she has a way of finding herself there anyway,”

“She is stubborn like that,” Draco mused, thinking of the first night that he knew of your Animagus.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother sighed.

“Is she staying healthy?” He asked. “I know she has a habit of not keeping warm,” 

Your mother mulled over the question then spoke.

“The winter has been affecting her more than before, she’s up half the night and sleeps half the day.” There was a soft sigh in her voice as worry blossomed in Draco’s chest at the new information. “She’s getting enough sleep and enough to eat, but I do worry about her. Ever since the change, she’s a bit more spontaneous in her sleeping habits.” The latter information pacified some of his worry.

“It’ll probably take some time for her to figure out,” He said mostly for his benefit. “But she won’t be alone in doing so,” He vowed.

“I know,” Your mother rose, smiling at him once more. “She might not have many friends, but the ones she does have are the most loyal I’ve ever seen,”

He nodded, thinking of Abby and even Pansy.

There was a chime from in the house and your mother rose heading to the foyer. Draco knew that it would be his mother at the door and stood as well. Greetings were made and just as your mother was about to call up to you, you descended the stairs, in a deep green dress he had never seen before. The fabric hugged you to your waist where it then flowed loosely to you knees. The long sleeves and high collar gave him comfort that you would be warm. The sheer black stockings you had paired with the dress seconded that comfort.

Draco gaped at you, deciding that he loved you in green. The night of the summer ball flashed in his mind and the green dress you wore then. He knew that it was stupid to give into house colors with you but Merlin you looked great in Slytherin colors.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” You greeted with the same decorum as the Ball.

“Miss Y/n,” His mother smiled. “It has been too long my dear,”

You flushed and looked down, coming to stand beside him, your hand slipping into his as your mother led the lot of you all into the dining room. It was just as immaculately decorated as the rest of the house, though nothing was overdone or gaudy. It was simple, classy.

Your mother must have taken over cooking to allow you to spend the rest of the day with him, explaining the heavenly smells that emitted from the kitchen all day. There was something different about the food at your home. It was a bit messy and not all of the dishes matched and not everything was perfect, but Draco almost preferred it that way. He had spent too long in perfection; it was nice to have something new.

His mother spoke respectfully to you, asking you about your classes this year and how they had gone. A few times he had to nudge you before you slipped up about Pinnae accidently. Draco would never get over how much his mother absolutely adored you. You had stolen into her heart the same way you had his. If only you could do the same with his father.

As dinner ended, you rose to clear the table, and he joined you, having never done such a thing in his life. You set things carefully on the clean counters of the kitchen and it only took a few trips to rid the table of dinner and replace it with dessert.

__________________________________

I kept my eye on Draco all throughout dinner, worried that something might go wrong. Narcissa proved to be no trouble and his father was never in the topic of discussion. I still knew that Draco missed his father the same way that I missed mine on the holidays.

“Well, I must thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I must be off now,” Narcissa rose gracefully with a kind smile. “Draco, be home before too long yes?”

Draco gave a curt nod as my mother saw Narcissa to the door. Draco slumped beside me, both of our facades falling.

“Well, that could have been worse,” I mused.

He chuckled and rubbed his face. I could see the weariness in his features.

“Dray?” I asked softly.

“When did everything get so complicated?” He mumbled.

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and wrapped an arm around me.

“At least there’s presents? And Christmas? And us?” I offered. He hummed in acknowledgment.

Now that it was the Christmas season, I could officially watch The Sound of Music—a Christmas classic at home.

Draco studied me as I set up the DVR and hit play, curling up beside him on the couch. Since it was winter, the sun had set some time ago, leaving us in a soft darkness. The credits began to roll, and I laid my head on Draco’s shoulder, curling under an afghan.

“This is ridiculous,” He muttered halfway through.

I shushed him. I felt him sigh as his arm draped around my shoulders.

“Are you two ready?” My mother asked, coming in with three mugs.

“Ready?” Draco murmured in my ear as I sat up.

“Presents?” I grinned. “We do them on Christmas Eve, it’s our tradition. Then we undecorate on Christmas Day.”

“What?”

“Her father always insisted that as soon as Christmas is over all the decorations should come down. So, we take them down tomorrow.” My mother explained, handing us both mugs.

With the parcels covered in shiny paper distributed, I watched Draco marvel at the number of gifts in his lap. I nudged his shoulder letting him know that it was alright to start.

I started with my mother’s present to me—a new cloak that was a silvery white, matching Pinnae’s feathers. I thanked her and undid the recognizable paper from Abby’s gift. It was a leather-bound photo album. Frowning, I opened the cover and saw Abby and I as little kids dressed up as princesses. I smiled at the photo and ran my hand over the giggling girls. I looked over to Draco, wanting to show him and I paused; he was lost deep in the delicate pages of my gift to him: the entire Narnia collection in one leather bound book.

“It’s charmed,” I explained softly. “If it’s not me or you to open the book it reverts to an old book of spells,”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, not looking up from the carpet pages of finely detailed artwork. 

“Mom helped me with the magic,” I stole a glance her way and she was beaming at us.

She stood quietly and gave me a look, leaving us alone in the den to have a few last moments alone.

“You mean you didn’t read me the first book?” He muttered.

“Well, you walked in on me reading the second one,” I poked his side. “Here, this is from Abby,” I placed the photo album between us.

I opened the first page and he laughed at the picture of Abby and I. “You were such a dorky kid,” He chuckled.

“Yeah well,” I rolled my eyes.

The next page was our first day at Hogwarts, my hair was still impossibly long as Abby and I sat together on the Hogwarts Express. I laughed and pointed out Draco sulking in the background of the photo.

“Creep,” I teased.

The photos were a mix of muggle and magic, some moving, some static. Abby and I through the years: getting sorted into Hufflepuff, Christmases, summer vacations. Then there was a page that didn’t hold a photo, but a note:

From Ernie, Blaise, Hannah, Emme, Pansy and me~

The next page held a photo Draco and I at the third task, sitting in the stands. I felt secondhand awkwardness from the two of us in the photo. It was minutes before my entire world ended... or had just begun. The next photo was two of us in the hospital wing, fast asleep in each other’s arms. I ran my fingers over the photo.

Draco took the book from my hands and studied the photos, drawing the album closer to his face. I looked over his shoulder as he slowly flipped through the pages. Each of them was dated and titled:

Draco chasing off after Y/n, Yule Ball, June 21st

Draco and Y/n, Yule Ball, June 21st

Hogwarts Express, Draco and Y/n are prefects, Sept 1st

Draco staring at Y/n and smiling, Sept 13th

Draco and Y/n walking down the hall Sept 19th

Hogsmeade Trip, Oct 5th

Halloween, Hufflepuff Common Room, Oct 31st

Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match, Nov 2nd

Draco fighting Harry, Nov 2nd

Y/n worrying over Draco after the fight, Nov 2nd

Draco and Y/n sleeping together again, Nov 3rd

Late night studying, Dec 12th

Draco and Pinnae, Dec 18th

There was another note at end along with the picture of the four of us the day Pansy found out about Pinnae in the snow:

Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.

Tears well in my eyes as I rested my chin on Draco’s shoulder. He flipped a few pages back and untucked the photo of us sleeping together in the hospital wing. His slender fingers brushed over it before slipping it into the middle of his new book.

“That’s mine,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck softly.

“Not anymore,” He smiled. “You have good friends,”

“We have good friends,” I corrected him softly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“We do,” He shifted, closing the book and setting it with his before reaching into his coat and pulling out a small satin box. “This is from me,”

I stared at the box and with a shaking hand I took it, thumbing it open. Inside was a small locket with a shifting roaring lion engraved onto the front of it and familiar words onto the back:

“He isn’t safe, but he is good,” was written in a delicate script.

“Draco, I can’t take this,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes at the emotions that rushed in my chest at the thought and love he put into the small gift.

“You can,” He pressed. “And will. Here,” He took it from my hands and released the locking mechanism.

A scene sprung to life before me, a halo of light. Balanced on top was a forest with dancing fawns and dwarves and centaurs around a bonfire. Lyre and flute music radiated from the scene. The sight shifted to a lion roaring atop a broken stone table. Then to a familiar ship on the high seas with a dragon circling it. A battle between a man and a snake in front of a silver chair. Then again, a lion, standing tall, proud.

“Draco,” I whimpered out, closing the locket and throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you,” Tears fell down my cheeks as I buried my face in his shoulder.

His arms curled around me as he pulled me close.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, or what the future holds,” He murmured. “But don’t give up on me.”

“Never,” I vowed. “Course he’s not safe,” I pulled away, running a hand through his hair. “But he is good. He is king,” My fingers softly stroked his cheek.

With the locket hung around my heck, Draco and I curled up together, watching the end the Sound of Music. My fingers toyed with the locket, rubbing over it again and again, afraid that it might just disappear.

I had to bid him a good night as the hour got later and we were together on the front porch alone. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He responded immediately and pulled me close deepening the kiss, his hot breath mixing with mine. He tasted like tea and apple pie, a sweet intoxicating flavor.

Draco’s hand slipped down to the small of my back, pressing me against the warmth of his body. My fingers tangled and tugged at his hair earning a low throaty sound to emit from his chest. I responded with a soft mewl.

He pulled away, his hot breaths panting across my face. 

“Happy Christmas,” He breathed out.

“Mhmm,” I hummed out. “Christmas, yeah,”

He chuckled and pressed his lips back to mine fleetingly. 

“Goodnight, Feathers,”

“Night, Dray,”

 ___________________________________

Draco melted into his bed that night, watching the photo of you and him sleeping peacefully. There was an amity about the both of you, there was no worry or fear on his face and yours was smiling softly as you clung to him even in your sleep. It was almost as good as the book you had given to him.

Your mother’s present was lying beside him on the bed. He wasn’t supposed to show it to you, your mother had said: it was your father’s wand.

He sighed and looked at the note that came with it: 

~

Draco,

This was her father’s wand. She doesn’t know that I still have it. And she doesn’t know that it belongs to you as soon as you turn sixteen.

Lucius Malfoy killed Walter Y/l/n.

Lucius forfeited the wand, but it will respond to you. It has been a burden to me all of these years but perhaps it can find some peace with you. This is a secret that I share with you. This wand is unique: it knows to protect her, and it is loyal to you.

Keep her safe, I pass her and this wand to you, one Slytherin to another. You will always have a home in among this family.

~

He sighed and laid back in bed, twirling the wand in his hands. It was similar to his own in length. Birch with a unicorn hair. He wanted to be bitter towards your mother for keeping this secret from you, but the words she said earlier stopped him:

“Merlin knows I’ve tried to keep her from things to keep her safe...”

Was this keeping you safe? This secret that he now held? He knew that if nothing else, it had kept you a pure heart. He couldn’t imagine you’d ever give him a chance if you knew what his father did. He wondered what would have changed...

The morning came along with the small Christmas that he and his mother shared together. It was a quiet affair. He had gotten her a new bottle of ink and a golden quill for her drawings.

“This is from your father,” Her tone held disdain as she handed him a small velvet box. “It belonged to his father and now he passes it to you.”

Nested inside was nothing like the gift he had spent months making for you. Instead it was a weighty silver ring with the Malfoy crest on it. Slipping it onto his finger, the enchantment took place and resized to fit him perfectly.

“Any word of when he will return?” Draco asked, somber. 

“January 10th.” His mother sighed.

Draco nodded and drifted to the sitting room that held his piano and began to play familiar Christmas melodies before shifting into his mother’s favorites. She sat behind him on the sofa, working on her embroidery as he played. His melody shifted into something new. He frowned, knowing that it wasn’t anything that he had learned before.

“Composing?” His mother mused.

He didn’t comment. Instead he chased the melody that was fading from his mind, desperate to bring it back. Then he realized that his mind was chasing after you. You were his melody. With you at the forefront of his thoughts, he spent the next few days playing and writing the composition down. When he was certain that it was perfect and represented everything that you were to him, he smiled to himself.

Draco could still have you when his father was home. He would have no idea the melody was wrapped up in you.

“It’s beautiful,” His mother commended. “She’ll love it. You can play it for her tomorrow when she visits,”

And he did. With you sitting beside him on the piano bench, he played your song to you. You were absolutely mesmerized and asked him to play it again. Without knowing it, you had taken something else his father had forced him into and turned it into something beautiful.

Sitting in the rose garden as the stars came out, the year changed. A new beginning, and you were beside him. It was a muggle tradition, but he did kiss you when midnight came. Not that you’d complain.

When you pulled away from the gentle kiss, he about said something that he had forbidden himself from ever saying. No matter how sweet you were, how kind, how long you stayed, how loyal, no matter how much he cared for you, missed you when you were gone, and vowed to keep you safe, he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

He couldn’t tell you that he loved you.

He couldn’t trap you like that. He knew his future was dark and it loomed over him. He wasn’t going to tie you to him like that.

____________________________________

I held my tongue, a thousand confessions waiting to be unfurled. But I would wait. I would wait until Draco was ready to hear them. I didn’t let myself think that a few months would change everything that had him tied down and scared. I wouldn’t coerce him into anything. I would give him time to figure out his emotions and I would wait for him to heal.

Because I loved him.

And I would love him while I waited. I would love him while he healed. I would love him as he went through darkness and despair. I would love him as years of neglect and abuse untied him. I would love him until he was ready to love me.

So, I didn’t say a word.

I spent the next week over at Draco’s, like I had in the summer, but this time, we were working on spells. Everything that I had learned from D.A. I taught to him. His mother suggested to invite Pansy and Abby over as well during the afternoons to join our efforts.

It was a lot easier to cast Disarming and Stunning spells on Pansy and Abby than it had been on Draco. Narcissa joined us one afternoon, watching us, guiding and aiding where we were failing. Draco was losing focus too easily, Pansy needed to work on her wand movements, Abby needed to pronunciate more and I needed to put my heart behind wanting to perform the spells.

“You’re thinking about them incorrectly.” Narcissa stood behind me. “Think not about the intention to attack what’s in front of you, but to protect what’s behind you. Draco, come,”

Narcissa and Draco switched places, he was standing behind me and she was before me, her wand out and raised. I took a deep breath in, understanding what she meant. I had no ill will against her, but I would protect Draco.

We bowed, entering a proper duel. She cast a hex and I blocked it easily, before rebounding it with my own jinx. She deflected it effortlessly and almost knocked me down with a Stunning spell.

“Mean it Y/n!” She coached. “You want to protect him!? You want to save him!?”

“Mother!” Draco argued.

“No,” I panted softly. “I can do this. She’s right,”

I blocked her jinx that in my deflection almost hit Draco, who dropped out of the way thankfully. Enraged I turned back to her.

“Impedimenta!” I shouted. 

And it worked.

She was frozen in the snow. 

“Expelliarmus!”

Her wand flew from her hand. Beaming, I undid the Impediment Hex and picked up her wand which had landed in the frost by my feet.

“Very well, my dear,” Narcissa glowed. “There is a fighter in you yet,”

Draco picked me up in a twirling hug and Pansy and Abby were all cheering. We went back to dueling, now it was more for fun than work. Narcissa watched us still, encouraging and teaching us. Until she tensed, the color draining from her face.

“Bellatrix,” She hissed, vanishing from the backyard.

Draco cursed and grabbed my hand, pulling me behind the nearest shrub. With the cloak that my mother had given to me for Christmas, I almost blended in with the snow. Pansy and Abby were crouched down with us.

“Y/n, you need to get out of here,” Draco’s eyes were fixed on the house. “Now.”

“But what about Abby?” I squeaked.

“She’ll be fine,” Pansy nodded to me. “Bella likes me, she’ll be safe with me,” I met Pansy’s stark green eyes and an agreement passed between us.

Nodding, I tried to keep my breathing under control.

“Pinnae!” Abby whispered at me as if it were obvious. “Get out of here Y/n!”

I looked at my friends and closed my eyes, morphing into Pinnae and taking perch deep within the shrub.

“Don’t go until we’ve cleared the house.” Draco ordered.

I chirped and watched them all head towards the house, disappearing inside. Then I took off into the sky.

_____________________________

“Draco, darling,” Bellatrix cooed wickedly. “You remind me so much of your father,” 

“Aunt Bellatrix,” He greeted politely.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friends?” Her wild eyes flashed to Pansy and Abby.

“Bella,” His mother chided. “Draco was just seeing them off. And you know Parkinson. The other is a classmate.” Her voice left no room for more questions or argument.

His mother gave him a stern look and he quickly ushered Pansy and Abby through the front door. His eyes immediately scanned the skies for you. He thought he could make out your form perched on one of the barren trees, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Pansy,” He started.

“I’ve got it. Abby will talk to Pinnae. We’ll give word that she’s safe.”

Draco nodded and headed back inside, pacing the halls. He headed to his bedroom and slammed the door, casting a Silencing Charm on the room before letting out a roar of frustration. He didn’t know how much time passed as he paced the room but jumped when there was a chirp from his window.

He relaxed when he saw that the owl wasn’t you, but a screech owl, a letter tied to it’s ankle.

 ~ Malfoy,

Pinnae is home.

Parkinson

~

Draco sagged in relief and threw the letter into the fire lit in his hearth. Just once in his life he wanted a day where nothing would go wrong. He just wanted to be happy and safe with you. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was for the last few days of the winter holiday. 

Epilogue:

“The Dark Lord is adamant about his recruitment,” Bellatrix purred. “A fine young mind to mold into the ways of the Dark Lord.”

“He is my son, Bellatrix.” Narcissa snarled. “He is not of age until the summer. When that time comes the choice belongs to him and him alone. Until then, you have no business here,” A cold glare passed between them.

“Do I sense disloyalty?” Bellatrix tilted her head, mocking a pout. “The Dark Lord does not tolerate disloyalty, sister mine,”

“I do not belong to the Dark Lord, sister mine,” Narcissa gritted out. “Or have you forgotten?”

“No,” She scoffed. “A foolish mistake. Who else deserves loyalty but him?” 

“My family,” Narcissa snapped. “And my son.”

“I am your family!” Bellatrix shouted. “Have you changed your mind about the war perhaps? Deciding to follow the footsteps of our dear sister? Or perhaps our outlawed cousin? You were admirable little sister, before you went off and married that foolish Malfoy.”

“I will not stand here and allow you to speak of my husband or my son in such a manner. You have no business here Bellatrix. Leave this place.” Narcissa’s tone was ice cold.

“His time will come Cissy, and he will belong to the Dark Lord,”

A loud crack and Narcissa was left alone in the cold house once more. 

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” She whispered to the empty room.

.

Chapter 5

End Note: Please let me know what you think! Your words and reblogs are so important to me always! Don’t be afraid to reblog and comment! I’m nice I swear!

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[storydays]

Season 1, ep2, p3

The lights went off, the crowd cheered in anticipation. You inhaled and exhaled softly, before opening your (e/c) eyes that were focused and ready. The announcer came out into the middle of the arena. "Introducing the Fire Ferrets!" You waved as fans screamed. "Ahh! I love you, Bolin! Mako, you're so awesome! Marry me, (Y/N)!" You laughed softly, as the main announcer took over. "The rookie Ferrets came out of nowhere, and have made it further than anyone had expected this season. But tonight, they face the toughest test yet, folks." 

You smirk at your opponent, noting he was a fire bender. Time slowed down as you shoot your hand up, allowing the water to be pushed back, but he retaliated by sending fire towards your face. You ducked, and rolled under Mako's leg, and ran around Bolin's figure. "Oh, the two teams waste no time trying to blast each other out of Zone One." Mako jumped over your back, as you sent a water blast towards the firebender, knocking him back into Zone 2. 

"Migo is the first to have wet socks, curtsy of (Your fake name)! The Tigerdillos try to repay the favor but (Y/F/N) is too quick! Meanwhile, Mako showcases his trademark "Cool Under Fire" style." Bolin groaned as the opposing waterbender him back, but you knocked the earthbender off the edge in return. "Oh, and Tico is out and down for the count, quickly followed by Migo!" The opposing waterbender looked nervous, as the three of you smirked before Bolin sent a double whammy and knocked him out. "Ohh, and the Fire Ferrets win round 1 with no trouble at all!"

Round 2 was over before you knew it, and now were panting heavily, the Tigerdillos weren't happy and were fighting with anger clouding their vision, and pride. Mako took the lead and knocked down the other firebender into the drink. You did a back flip, having the water flick the opposing waterbender in the stomach, before Bolin knocked him back into the firerbender, and Mako used his finishing move with a fire blast that made both teens lose their balance and fall into the water below.

"It's a knock out! Such teamwork!" The Ferrets fans cheered loudly as the announcer told them that the Ferrets were going to the championships. The three of you walked to back to the platform that took you back to your side of the arena. Nagisa was cheering your "name" happily, while Kazan was jumping up and down, grinning excitedly. You laughed softly, as the two children ran around you, as you took your helmet off, and took a drink of water. Bolin came around the corner. 

"So what'd you think, Korra? Bolin's got some moves, huh?" He said, cockily. You chuckled, stepping behind a curtain to change into your Water Tribe clothes, leaving your hair in it's high ponytail. Noticing your arrows on your hands peeking out again, your tightened your gloves around your hands, so no slip ups happened. "What did I think? What did I think? That was amazing!" Korra cried, as Nagisa happily agreed. 

"You did a good job, (Your fake name). That was some good footwork." Mako gave you a half smile, and walked to his locker. Turning to the firebender, Korra tried to talk to him again. "You guys were incredible out there. Especially you, Mr Foot Work." Korra complemented. "Oh, you're still here?" Mako snapped. "Oh, you're still a jerk?" She grumbled. Rolling your eyes at their behavior, you put your radio in your ear, and waited for the person on the end to pick up. 

"Hello?" An irritated voice asked from the other side. "Hey, I-I need a favor." You sighed, sadly.

--Meanwhile--

"It's like there's a whole new way of bending here! Think you can teach me a couple moves?" She asked Bolin, as Nagisa jumped on Korra's back, and Kazan held Mako's hand. Surprised, the amber eyed male looked down at the younger, before shrugging and continued listening to the chattering benders in front of him. He sent a worried side glance towards you, you were hunched over, and were talking into a radio, looking concerned and sad, almost ancient. "Absolutely." Bolin said happily. 

 "Right now? Come on, Bolin." Mako sighed, a frown and irritation pulling at his face. "Just ignore him. Yeah, I could show you the basics. I'm just not sure how my earthbending would translate to your waterbending, but we'll figure it out." You got off the phone with an agitated look on your normally relaxed face, and gently took Nagisa off of Korra's back, and held her as you tuned into the conversation. "Won't be a problem. I'm actually an earthbender." Korra said, cockily. "I'm sorry, no, no, I didn't mean to assume. 'Cause I--You know, I was just figuring--with your Water Tribe getup that you are a Water Tribe gal." Bolin mumbled over his words, like the awkward dork he is. 

"Nope, you're right. I am a waterbender....and a firebender." She stated, as Mako froze and you sighed. Bolin was stuck trying to figure it out out. "Mm. Mm-hmm. I'm very confused right now." "You're the Avatar, and I'm an idiot." Mako hung his head, as Korra agreed. "Both are true." Korra replied, jumping when you gently dragged the two little ones with you. "(Your fake name), where are you going?" Korra asked, tentatively. "Nothing. What could I possibly know?" You snapped, slamming the door, and leading the children with you. "(Fake name)? Where are we going?" Nagisa asked, as you lead them down the stairs. 

Turning to the small children, you smile, knowing you owed them an explanation. "My name isn't (Fake name), I've just been using that name because I wanted to be a normal guy for a while. You're kids,  but you are smarter than you think. My real name is (Y//N), and I am sorry for what happened to your parents. I know you've been left alone and probably feel like no one cares about you, but that ends now. I'm going to tell you a huge secret, because as of today, you two are going to be taken care of." You sent a blinding smile at the children who looked back at you with hope in their eyes. 

--The next morning--

Korra growled, as she sleepily tried the gates again. Korra ran through the gates with aggression as Tenzin cried out, "Patience,Korra!" Korra growled as she starting burning up the exercise. You dropped your apple that you were sharing with Nevermore, in shock. Korra panted heavily as she realized what she did. "That was a 2,000 year old historical treasure." Tenzin started as you snapped,"What is wrong with you?" "There's nothing wrong with me! I've been practicing, just like you both taught me! But it isn't sinking in, okay? It hasn't clicked like you said you would.: She ranted. 

"Korra, this isn't something you can't force.If you would only listen to me and (Y/N)--" Tenzin started. "I have been! But you know what I think? Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe the reason I haven't learn airbending yet, is because you're a terrible teacher!" Korra accused before stomping off. "Yeah, Daddy, you're a terrible teacher." Meelo giggled innocently.Sensing their father's hurt, the girls hugged Tenzin's waist. You pat your uncle's shoulder. 

"She didn't mean it, Uncle. You're a great teacher, but some of your methods are old school, and while some may respond to this style of teaching, some may not. Don't forget that her dominant element is water," You began leading him over to a pond, got into a waterbending position and began dancing with the waves, you following their movements. 

"Others may need more of a hard push that can end in gentle reassurance. Like Mother used to say, A flower cannot bloom without sunshine and rain. When I asked her about it, she said that it meant, with out balance, nothing will get done." You said, gently dropping the water of your mother's memorial Magnolia tree, sending a warm gentle breeze and listening to your cousins' awed gasps. Turning to your Uncle, you told him, "Follow her tonight and you'll see." You said with a mischievous glint in your eye.

--That night--

You left your hair down and put a beanie on, before heading underground into an abandoned tunnel, taking the way you normally do to get to the city undetected. But something was different in the air tonight. You closed your eyes, inhaled and exhaled softly, before whirling around, eyes ablaze with annoyance. 

"You know, it's not like I can't feel when someone's following me." You snap putting your hands on your hips, sensing a sheepish aura from the person, hiding behind the corner. The figure stepped out and you immediately tensed up in a fighting position.  "Well, something big must be going down if the big boss himself came to see little ol' me." You snark sarcastically as Amon stepped out from the shadows. 

"Ah, (Y/f/n), quick with the mouth as always I see." You could sense he was grinning under his mask, so you rolled your eyes. "Kiss my--" "Hey, now, use nice language." He chuckled, standing a few feet away from you. "You didn't know where I was going with that.....Ass!" You replied sassily. Amon remained silent, leaving the air with a thick tension, until you cleared your throat. "Okay, maybe you did." You replied weakly, before you gasped, feeling your left arm being pinned to your back, and right arm couldn't move at all. 

"You always were a little smart mouth. But tonight will be the first step to baiting the Avatar to fall into my plans....just like I did to your mother." He said, lowly. You growled, flicking ice shards into the man's arm, just as he used several chi-blocking pressure points. You cry out, as you felt pain crawling up to your forearm and down to your wrist. Falling to the ground, withering, you fell to the ground on your injured arm, and looked up at the masked man with foggy eyes. 

"What are you going to take my powers away? Go ahead, I'm not afraid of a loser, like you." You spat, feeling fear run through you as an electric rod was pressed into your ribs. While you yelped from the shock, Amon laughed. "No, I am not going to take away your bending. You've suffered enough and I have sent a message, thanks to you, ((Y/F/N). Until we meet again." Hitting the highest switch, you scream and black out, hoping someone will find you soon. 

--Meanwhile (3rd Person's POV)--

 Korra entered the Ferret's dressing room to see Mako and Bolin looking rather sullen. But you were nowhere to be found. "I didn't miss your match, did I?You guys look like you lost it already.  And where is (Y/F/N)?" She asked. "We don't know! He's usually here early! Earlier than us, and we live here! We may have already lost the match." Bolin said, sadly. "It's not like him." Mako mumbled as the referee popped his head in.  "You've got two minutes ready to play or your disqualified." 

Mako huffed. "Well, there goes our shot at the championship and the winnings." Curious, Korra couldn't help but ask, "What about one of the other players? Can't you ask one of them to fill in?" "No, the rules say you can only compete on one team." Bolin replied. "Well, then, what about me? I'm a top-notch waterbender if I do say so, myself." She said cockily. "But, you're the Avatar. Isn't that cheating?" The green eyed teen asked. 

"It's not cheating if I only use waterbending." Korra said confidently. "No way, I'd rather forfeit than look like a fool out there." Mako complained. "Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence." Korra rolled her eyes as the referee popped his head into the room. "Time's up! Are you in or out?" "We're in!" "Yes!" "Hey, I didn't agree to this!" Mako whined. "You can thank me later!" called Korra, as she put on your uniform. "This girl is crazy." The firebender muttered, as he put his helmet on. 

"Looks like the ferrets have ferret'd out a last minute waterbender replacement!" Immediately (Y/N) fans began booing and demanding to know where you were. "Let's see if she's another diamond in the rough, like the brothers from the School of Hard Knocks." The announcer called, giving the green light to prepare to play. "Don't do anything too aggressive or too fancy. In face, don't do anything." Mako grumbled. "Just tried not to get knocked off the ring." "You got it, Captain." Korra replied, sarcastically. 

"Players, are you ready?" The referee blew his whistle, and Korra sent the opposing waterbender off the rink with a powerful blast.  Korra cheered as Mako facepalmed and Bolin winced in sympathy. "Fire Ferrets waterbender, penalty. Move back one zone." Called the ref. "What? Why?" Demanded Korra. "You're only allowed to knock players off the back of the ring, not the sides." Mako explained as Korra  winced. 

"And we're back in action after that hiccup. But I'm not so sure this replacement player knows what she's doing." As soon as the words left the announcer's mouth, the ref called another foul for Korra. "Foul! Over the line, move back to Zone Three." "Korra grunted and muttered under her breath. The bell rung loudly as the Platypus Bears took Round One. The Bears know a green player when they see one. They're focusing on the brunt of their attacks on this poor girl." 

Korra couldn't take it anymore, and used fire and earth to block the incoming attacks. "Wait a minute! Did that waterbender just earthbend?" He ask as the room froze. The referee blew the whistle and called out, "Foul, I think. Did I see that right?" Korra laughed sheepishly as Mako growled under his breath. "Hold on folks, we're just waiting for the ref's official call, but I think the replacement waterbender could be--no way! She's the Avatar, folks! Playing in a pro-bending match! Can you believe that?"

"The Avatar will be permitted to continue, so long as she uses waterbending only." The Platypus bears grumble before attacking the Avatar with even more aggressively. "This girl may be the Avatar, but she's no pro-bender,and the Platypus-Bears are exploiting that weakness. Their giving her their best and her best just isn't good enough to stop it. And she's in the sink!" 

Korra grumbled as she pulled herself out of the water before looking up to see a very angry Airbender starring down at him. "Oh, hey, Tenzin. I thought you didn't like coming to these matches." She chuckled awkwardly. "Once again, you have flagrantly disobeyed my orders. You were to stay on the island. Let's go." Tenzin said, sternly. "No, I'm kind of in the middle of something." "I have tried my very best to get through to you by being gentle and patient, but clearly the only thing you respond to is force! So I am ordering you to come back to the temple right now." Tenzin yelled. "Why? So I can sit around and meditate about how bad I am at airbending?You know, I am beginning to think there's a reason I haven't been able to learn it. Maybe I don't even need it!"

"What? That is a ludicrous suggestion. The Avatar needs to learn airbending. It is not optional." Tenzin was at his limit. "No, this is what I need to learn. Modern styles of fighting." Korra protested. "Being the Avatar isn't all about fighting, Korra. When will you learn that?" Tenzin placed his hands on his hips as Korra began walking away. "I have a match to go finish." 

The next three minutes were some of the most annoying moments of Korra's life but your voice echoed in her head, reminding her to breathe, and suddenly she was a graceful swan, dodging fire and earth disks before moving forward with her attacks. "Well, how about that." Tenzin said, softly. The next thing the Platypus-Bears knew, they were all in the sink, and the Ferrets were finally in the championships. 

The Ferrets made their way into the room, the brothers allowing Korra to get changed first. Tenzin came into the room with a soft grin on his face. "It seems my nephew was right about this being a better teaching for you. You did good Korra. You moved just like an airbender." Korra grinned, knowing both sides were calmed down and have no hard feelings toward the others. 

"Speaking of my nephew, where is he?" Tenzin asked as they walked out the gym, as he promised the Ferrets a celebratory dinner, "He was the one who mentioned I should come down here tonight." Before anyone could reply, Lin Beifong landed in front of them with a worried expression on her usually stoic face. "Lin, what is the matter?" The older Airbending master hurried to his old friend's side, the teens looking at the Chief in concern. 

"It's (Y/N), he's in the hospital."

[plaidbooks]

First Snow

A/N: It’s supposed to snow tonight into tomorrow morning and this fic popped into my head...mostly because I, too, have rarely witnessed snow fall before. And I would love to cuddle up with Sonny and watch it snow

Tags: None, this is just straight fluff (I guess there’s a mention of a pimp and prostitute, but that’s it)

Words: 2k

Tagging: @the-baby-bookworm (lemme know if you want to be tagged in fics!)

You were bundled up in two coats, a beanie on your head, leggings under your pants, and fur-lined boats to your calves. You had thick gloves on, and a scarf wrapped around you. You were decently warm, but the chill from the New York wind tore through the exposed skin of your face, your nose and cheeks a bright red. You shuffled into the SVU department and shrugged out of one coat, tugging off your gloves.

“Morning, [Y/L/N],” Olivia smiled at you as she walked by your desk. You grinned back, undoing the scarf.

“Morning, Lieutenant,” you greeted.

You heard a chuckle behind you, and you turned to find Fin there. “Got enough layers there?” he asked.

You gave him a playful glare. “Look, I’m not used to the cold here, yet.” It was true; you had just transferred to New York. You were from much warmer climates. You had no idea how the fuck you were going to deal with snow, which was projected to start that night.

“Hey, leave my partner alone; she’ll get used to it,” Sonny’s voice came from the entrance. You smiled a thank you to him and he came over to your desk, handing you a coffee. You took the coffee gratefully, taking a sip and letting the warm liquid spread through you. “Hopefully, you’ll be used to it by tonight; ya remember we’re gonna be undercover tonight, right? Out in the cold?”

You suppressed a shudder thinking about being out in the cold. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m wearing so many layers.” You gave a pointed look at Fin. He grinned, putting his hands up in surrender before sitting down to start working. You, too, sat at your desk, pulling out the paperwork that you left off the night before. It was true that you and Sonny were going to be doing undercover later, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t still get some work done beforehand.

 **************************

The day seemed to go by slowly. It didn’t help that you glanced up often to look at your partner, sitting at his desk across from you. Sonny either had his head down, furiously writing something, or had his blue eyes locked on his computer screen, researching some case or other. His brow was almost always furrowed, and you silently wondered how he didn’t have a headache at the end of the day. Then, you’d notice you were staring, and you’d quickly pull your eyes back to your own desk, cheeks burning. Once, he caught you looking, and you played it off, asking him about grabbing something for lunch, even though it was only 11am, and you didn’t normally have lunch until after noon.

Finally, Olivia called all the detectives to the bullpen, to go over the details of the undercover that night. The main objective was protecting the young woman, who was a prostitute in a sex ring that you and Sonny had helped break, while she tried to bait a pimp. The secondary objective was taking the pimp in; but the victim’s safety was your top concern.

The woman, Jessica, would be making contact with the pimp in the middle of a crowded shopping square. Fin would be stationed in the square, nearby. Rollins and Olivia would be “window shopping” near the meeting point. And you and Sonny would be posing as a couple, meandering through the square. You couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster at the thought, your stomach doing flips. At least my cheeks will be red from the cold…you thought, already feeling the blush creeping into your complexion.

Assignments given, you went to TARU, getting mic’d up before grabbing your coat, gloves, and scarf, rebundling before heading back out into the cold, Sonny by your side.

 ************************

It was dark in the square as Jessica appeared, making her way to the agreed upon spot for the meet. You and Sonny had been standing by a shop, arms linked, waiting for her to show up. Looking in the reflection of the shop window, you watched as a man approached her.

“Showtime,” you murmured. Sonny moved to wrap his arm around your shoulders, turning you from the shop, slowly walking through the square. You were careful not to walk directly towards the two, wandering in the general direction, pretending you were playfully chatting about something with your boyfriend. There was a kiosk of little trinkets—magnets, postcards, bottle openers—set up close to them that caught your eye.

“Babe, look! Your mom would love one of those!” you said, pointing at the kiosk.

“Ya know, her birthday is coming up,” Sonny replied, hugging you tighter to him. When he kissed your head, you swore your heart stopped. You knew it was for the undercover, to keep up the act, but it seemed so natural the way he did it, as if he didn’t think about it.

The pimp glanced at you both, stopping his words for a moment as you passed him, then he continued in a hushed voice as you perused the kiosk. You were now set up behind the pimp, able to watch him without him seeing you. And watch you did. What you weren’t expecting, though, was that Jessica was now glancing at you. Constantly. Enough, it seemed, that the pimp noticed something was off, shoving her violently and taking off.

You and Sonny bolted after him, screaming, “stop, NYPD!” as you went. Rollins and Olivia turned to join the pursuit, but the pimp unknowingly ran directly into Fin, who all but tackled him to the ground, cuffing him. Pimp restrained, you turned to Jessica, who was still in the middle of the square.

“Are you alright?” you asked her.

She nodded. “Better, now that you guys got this bastard.” You agreed, letting out a breath now that this was over, the adrenaline still coursing through you.

You noticed Sonny coming over to you, a smirk on his face. “That kiosk was a smart idea, gettin’ us closer.”

You shook your head. “Didn’t work great, seeing as Jessica made us.”

“Civilians are always gonna be unreliable. It was a clever move, though.”

You smiled at him, happy for his praise. You were still new, still had a lot to prove with this squad, but you were glad that someone at least noticed you were trying. You suddenly remembered that he had kissed your hair, the feel of his mouth still tangible on the side of your head. You felt your cheeks go red, something that had nothing to do with the cold, quite the opposite; your face was on fire.

“Hey, Sonny, can I ask you something?” you fidgeted nervously, shuffling on your feet, looking down.

“Of course…is everything alright?”

You glanced up at him, saw the concern in his face, and quickly looked away again. “You know what? Never mind; it’s nothing.”

You went to walk by him, but he grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “It doesn’t seem like nothin’,” he whispered.

You cursed yourself for bringing it up. You were terrified that this was going to ruin your partnership, your friendship. Sure, you had only been with the department for a couple months, but after meeting Sonny, you two were basically inseparable. When you developed feelings for him, you shoved them down as far as you could. And now, if you told him, what then? You could always transfer to Brooklyn…or Staten Island…or something.

“[Y/N], look at me,” he said, then in a softer voice, he added, “please.” You took a deep breath, letting it out in a white plume around you, then forced yourself to look into his piercing blue eyes. It was hard not to look away, shrinking under his gaze.

“What happened?” he murmured, eyes searching yours. The fact that he didn’t even seem to remember just reaffirmed that it was all an act for the undercover, that you were looking to deeply into the kiss, that it really meant nothing—

“When we were coming towards the kiosk…” you started. You debated making something up, just some sort of outrageous lie. But with how reluctant you were to broach the subject, you couldn’t think of anything impactful enough as a lie. Truth it is. “You, uh, kissed the side of my head, and I just wanted to ask…what that was about?” You turned at the last minute; you didn’t have to admit your feelings at all. You could turn it on him, ask him if he had feelings.

You saw his eyes go wide and he worked his jaw as he tried to answer. “I—that was just for the undercover,” he stuttered, shock still evident on his face. “I-I’m sorry if I made ya uncomfortable. I shoulda asked ya first.”

Now it was your turn to backtrack. “No, no it’s fine. I just…I wanted to be sure…I didn’t want there to be any, uh, misunderstandings.”

Even with the cold, you saw his cheeks go redder, and you knew yours did, too. “Look, [Y/N], I-I don’t want there to be ‘misunderstandings’, as you called it.” It was Sonny’s turn to look uncomfortable, breaking eye contact with you. “But ever since ya walked into the squad room, I’ve had a hard time getting’ ya outta my mind.”

You stood there, dumbfounded. Was he saying what you thought he was? Was he…confessing to you?

When you said nothing, Sonny rolled his eyes, running his hand through his hair. “I like ya, okay? And when I…I kissed ya, I did it without thinkin’. I-I didn’t even realize, not until ya mentioned it just now—”

You cut him off, leaning forward and kissing him softly. At first, he froze, shocked, but then he kissed you back; a sweet, gentle kiss. You grinned and you felt him smile and you both had to lean back, smiling and laughing softly, unable to continue the soft touch. Something soft, cold, and wet landed on your nose and you looked up.

Slowly, snow started to fall, and your eyes sparkled. You could feel tears in the corner of your eyes, looking in wonder at the small white flakes drifting around you. Sonny watched your face, watched the delight light up your face as the snow fluttered through the air, sticking to your hair and clothes. Finally, you brought your eyes back to his, face lighting up the shopping square.

“It’s…beautiful,” you murmured. Sonny leaned in, kissing your forehead, your nose, each cheek, and finally your lips again.

“Yeah, ya are,” he breathed, making you giggle. He held you for a moment longer, watching the snow fall lazily around you, before he said, “come on, we should get back ta the squad room before they ask where we are.”

[maladaptive---daydreamer]

This is random as fuck but like theres been loads of like imagine a HP character meeting a roadman, but imagine a roadman/roadgirl going to to Hogwarts. 

Like the food appearing on the table at the start of year feast and they’re like ‘nahh fuck off, man banged juj,” 

saying “Mums life?” to harry and then remembering and being like oh shit

Or getting into an argument like “watch your mouth dickhead, dont think I won’t come spin your jaw” and draco is like “spin my jaw?????” 

Or him saying something to Hagrid and them going ‘who you getting lippy to? pussio” and really charging the P of the pussio up.

Them seeing Hermione at the yule ball and screaming ‘OIII IS THAT YOU YEAHH? LENG TING AND THAT”

Ending their sentences in ‘still’ and everyone being so confused

“have you done the homework?” “Nah I havent still” 

“Are you going to hogsmeade next week?” “Cant be asked still”

Telling first years its a good thing they werent in Ravenclaw cause Ravenclaws are all neeks.

Their plug is the one whos also supplying the hufflepuffs with weed. And everytime a hufflepuff comes up to them about it they’re like ‘allow it, you’re gonna bait me”

Calling everyone ‘my guy’ or ‘my g’, like literally everyone.

They defo store their wand in a nike pouch, but in 5th year they upgraded to that Gucci one.

Their school shoes are black airforce 1s that they charm to never crease

Their winter coat is a Moncler puffer jacket 100% with nike gloves and an LV scarf.

They refuse to wear the pointed hat, instead its a D squared cap or an LV beanie.

[nocturna-starr]

The Happiest of Birthdays

Prompt: Someone takes Dani to Build a Bear

Prompter: @currentlylurking

Length: 3097

Warnings: None

Today was one of the days Danielle regretted ever being adopted by wealthy parents. Her parents were gone, once again, on another business trip. Usually, that would mean she could travel anywhere in the city she desired, but her parents had increased the bodyguards watching her. The ghost girl couldn’t give the slip to ten bodyguards! She was stuck in the mansion.

It was her birthday, though no one knew. Danielle had claimed she didn’t know the day she was born to hide from Vlad. They were definitely not on talking terms and Danielle was doing everything in her power to avoid him. When she was adopted, her parents decided that her adoption day would be her new birthday.

She couldn’t blame them for missing her birthday. If she called phoned them now, they would be on the next flight home. Danielle couldn’t do that to them; they had spent years trying to get this contract. She would never forgive herself if the company lost a once in a lifetime opportunity because of her.

That was why she chose to spend the day locked in her bedroom and away from prying eyes. She didn’t have to wear anything elegant to impress anyone. She could put on her own sweater and red beanie. Her hair was allowed to be in a ponytail. Danielle could be her old self for a day.

Her old lonely self…

At first, Danielle had tried to occupy herself with the television. You could only watch so many episodes of The Waltons before one became bored to tears. Video games never interested her as much as they did Danny. The only thing left to do was a doodle, and she just didn’t feel inspired.

“May I come in Miss Danielle?” Casey asked, gently knocking on the door.

Danielle cringed. Casey was one of the only people in the household staff that wasn’t afraid to reprimand her for manners. She had already been the victim of a lecture in table manners earlier that morning. If Casey saw her now, the older woman would very well have an aneurism

“I’m sorry Casey but I am in the middle of something important. May you come back at another time?” Danielle hated how small she sounded.

“Very well Miss. Perhaps you could check under your bed for any misplace objects? It would make tidying the room easier.” Casey was also the only person who would order Danielle to do any cleaning up. The girl had tried resisting once, but after the hot sauce event, she just did what the woman wanted.

Danielle sighed but got off her bed then went on her hands and knees. She pulled out dirty clothes and a few books that had made their way down there. Then she noticed an old cardboard box. Originally, Danielle hid it underneath the bed to hide her freakiness from her new parents. She had forgotten she put it down there!

With a little effort, Danielle pulled the box out from beneath. It was heavier than she remembered. Perhaps she was too far out of practice. Delicately, Danielle unfolded the top. Part of her was curious to see what she deemed so important to hold onto from her old life.

The first thing she saw was her Fenton Thermos. The thing seemed to be operational if the full light was still working. Oops. She pulled out her old journal. Flipping through the pages reminded her about how much her handwriting had improved. She smiled when she spotted her favourite old t-shirt. How could she have forgotten it? It was the first gift she had ever received for her birthday…

“Happy Birthday to You!” Phantom and the Red Huntress sang as Phantom presented her with a birthday cake. Danielle beamed at her closest friends.

The three were currently sitting on a picnic bench in Amity Park’s only park. Their only company were the stars above them. Only Dani was in her civilian form. From what she understood, Danny and Valerie were in a tentative truce, neither was comfortable with the other. Still, the clone was touched that they would put their rivalry aside for her.

Both her closest friends stared at her. Dani looked back confused. What did they want her to do? She wasn’t going to grab a piece, there were flaming candles on that cake! The trio stood for a moment before Phantom was hit with a revelation.

“Make a wish,” He told her, green eyes twinkling, “Then blow out the candles!”

Blow out the candles? Wasn’t that unsanitary? Who knew what diseases she could accidentally give to Phantom or the Red Huntress! Still, a tradition was tradition… She closed her eyes and silently thanked the stars for friends like Danny and Valerie. She took a deep breath and blew out all the candles.

“What did you wish for?” the Red Huntress said. Danielle could almost hear the grin in her voice.

“Valerie! Don’t you know it’s against the rules for the Birthday Girl to tell her what she wished! Then it won’t come true!” Danny childishly reprimanded. The three sat in stunned silence, before bursting out laughing.

“You sounded like a four-year-old!” the Red Huntress giggled.

Danny only grinned in response. Dani had never seen her cousin like this before. It was awesome to see him so free and know he was a superhero. She thanked her lucky stars that she managed to live that long.

“In my family,” Valerie began, “It’s tradition to open one gift before cake.” She presented a prettily wrapped box. Phantom pulled out a gift bag from beneath the table. Both looked at her expectantly. They wanted her to choose?

Dani reached for the gift from Phantom. The Red Huntress nodded as if she expected her decision. Carefully, Dani took out all the blue tissue paper. Hidden among the flimsy paper was a t-shirt. It was gray, with the NASA logo on it.

“I heard you liked space.” Danny winked.

She tackled him in a hug, “THANK YOU SO MUCH!”

She always felt a little guilty for liking the exact same things as Danny. She often wondered if he resented her for not finding her own path. The shirt was a reassurance that he was not angry with her, rather he was encouraging her. It meant more than anyone would ever know.

“As sweet as this is, I think it’s time to cut the cake!” Valerie called.

Part of her felt guilty for forgetting Danny’s gift. She still wore one of the various necklaces Valerie gave her. She took off the sweater and put on the NASA t-shirt. It still fit her like a glove. The next time she went to Amity Park she would wear it.

Danielle turned back to see the rest of the contents in the box. She still had the credit card that she stole from Vlad. Did he even realize he was missing it? Danielle highly doubted that the billionaire noticed the few hundred taken every once in a while. Without a second thought, Danielle snapped it in half. Her collection of random Pokémon cards was haphazardly thrown in there. Then Danielle’s eyes caught on a photograph from her fourteenth birthday…

Danny, Dani and Valerie were standing in line for the biggest roller coaster in the entire state of Illinois, ‘The Raging Bull’. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement, and Valerie was keeping herself just as calm. Danny, on the other hand, was looking almost as pale as his hair.

Valerie noticed this and took it as an opportunity to tease the ‘Great Danny Phantom’. “What’s wrong? The hero of Amity Park afraid of heights?”

“I don’t like roller coasters,” Phantom replied, not taking the bait.

Dani barely paid attention to them. It was almost their turn! She could feel her heart flutter in anticipation. Valerie said that going on a roller coaster was just like flying but with no control. The phrasing intrigued Dani, so she begged to go to an amusement park for her birthday. Valerie was willing to grant the wish and guilt a reluctant Phantom to come along.

“Maybe I should get out of line. I don’t think I want to do this.” Phantom decided. Valerie was having none of it.

“Chicken. Look, even Danielle is excited. You’re a ghost! There is nothing you should be afraid of!” Valerie whispered the last part so that only the trio could hear.

“I don’t like roller coasters.” Danny reiterated. He tried to leave the line but the huntress grabbed his arm, “Please Val…”

“It’s our turn!” the birthday girl shrieked. The line pushed them towards the ride. Danny was practically shaking yet couldn’t phase out of Valerie’s grasp without getting some unwanted attention. He tried to convince the girls to sit in the middle, but they dragged him to the front.

“The only way to get the full experience is to sit in the front.” The older girl’s smirk was a bit too malicious. Dani didn’t care. She was finally going on the ride!

The ride was almost everything she hoped for, if only it were a little faster. Valerie was totally right; it was just like flying! She threw her hands up in the air and screamed. She was pretty sure her cuz was screaming profanities beside her. Good thing the screaming was loud enough that the kids behind didn’t hear him.

The ride was over way too quickly. With wobbly legs, she got out of her seat. Danny had to be helped out. She watched Valerie guide Danny to a nearby trash can. Maybe it was a bad idea to pressure him on the ride after all.

She looked away and tried to ignore the sounds of the boy trying to calm his stomach. She noticed a group of people around a kiosk. She wandered over there to see what they were selling.

“Do you want to buy a picture kid?” The guy in the kiosk asked.

“We’ll take three!” Valerie answered behind her.

A while later, Danny had been able to laugh about the event. When his friends found out, they refused to let him live it down. The picture hung proudly in his room, the last time she was there. Valerie was rather fond of the one piece of evidence that Phantom had a weakness.

She tried to figure out why Danny hated that ride. He didn’t seem to have any fear of the other rides. The only answer she got from Danny was “Clowns and Jell-O”. When she asked Sam and Tucker, they told her that it was a really complicated story.

The box still had other treasures she had not yet unearthed. She pulled out a bunch of keys she had put in there. What they were for, she had forgotten. Maybe her diary could remind her? An old bar of chocolate from Dubai was surprisingly intact. Seeing the chocolate made her long to go travelling again. She wondered if chocolate ever went bad…

At the very bottom of the box was a gift for her most birthday a year ago. Its blue button eyes looked up at her. Danielle pulled out the teddy bear she had gotten from Danny and Val.

“Shopping Spree!” Valerie cheered, “With a chauffeur to carry our bags for us! Are you excited or what?”

“Haha. You know I’m just as much a part of this as you.” Danny retorted. For the first time, he and Valerie were in civilian clothes together.

A few months ago, they told each other the truth. Danielle needed to mediate between the two for a while before they calmed down. They were at the point of calming down. It was awesome to finally not have to be careful what she said to her cuz.

“You and I both know that if you had it your way, we would spend all day at the arcade.” The older girl rolled her eyes.

“I think you have me confused with Tucker again.” The teen sighed, “Where do you want to go first, Dani?”

The pressure was all on her. She needed to find a place that both Danny and Valerie would be able to tolerate. She was curious to try the hair and nail salon. Danny wouldn’t enjoy the pampering. The comics shop looked awesome as well. Valerie didn’t seem to be interested in comics. She had no interest in going to the gloomy occult store. Finally, she spotted a store that she hoped everyone could agree on.

“Let’s go there!” She pointed at the brightly coloured store.

She gained two different reactions. Danny was unphased in the slightest, almost excited. Valerie gawked at her, then shook her head. The huntress headed towards Build-a-Bear with the two ghosts following behind her.

It was no surprise that the store was filled with little kids and their parents. The trio earned suspicious glares from some of the parents. Danny sweetly waved at them. He had been treated worse by those very same people before. It must have been downright friendly by now.

She followed her friends to the area filled with unstuffed animals. Her eyes widened. There were so many to choose from! Did she want a cat or a dog, a dragon or a pony? She spotted a plain white bear. Perfect.

Danny had chosen a sky-blue bear. Valerie got one of the black dragons. Once they were finished choosing, they headed over to the stuffing station.

The three friends joined a crowd of kids and their parents. Each of them was given a red heart and instructions not to lose it. Danny was also snuck a scrap of paper with a number on it.

“Okay, we need to wake up the heart. First jump on one foot.” The lady in charge of the area began.

Each step, Danny and Dani followed almost religiously. Valerie was more halfhearted. The instructions became more and more bizarre as they continued. Why did they need to rub their stomachs and stand on one foot? Some of the kids joined Valerie in barely trying. Seeing that she was losing her audience, the staff member decided to end the waking ritual.

“All bears require a wish for them to be brought to life. What do you want most?” the woman’s whisper was barely audible. She was trying way too hard to make it suspenseful.

“I with for ma tof ta grow bac” A little boy said sadly. The children around him snickered.

“I wanna be a pilot!” A girl yelled beside Dani.

“I wish that I could be as cool as Danny Phantom!”

I wanna be a ghostbuster too!”

“I want a pony, but mommy always says no!”

“I have to pee”

“I hope that my friend will go on a date with me!” Danny said just as cheerfully. The glares from before paled to the ones Danny was getting now. Even the lady with the instructions looked mad. Valerie subtly kicked him.

“EWWW!” one of the kids whined.

“You’ll like it when you’re my age.” Danny retorted, “Great. I sound like my dad!”

“I wish for more happy birthdays,” Dani said, hoping to ease the building tension. A few parents nodded, happy to get the attention off of Danny.

Once everyone had finished, they stood quietly in line while the poor worker focused on stuffing each individual bear.

“Hug it. Now is it perfectly stuffed for you?” She asked Dani.

Dani smiled, “Yep.”

“Give me the heart I gave you so, I can finish sewing your friend together.”

Dani watched her finish at lightning speeds. She must have been working there for months, if not years. She looked older than Danny and Valerie, and they were almost eighteen. It made it all the weirder that she gave Danny her number.

“Head over to the clothing section over there to get your bear some clothes. Then head over to the naming station.” The woman instructed. “Hey, cutie!”

Dani started to head over. She turned around to see a clearly uncomfortable Danny trying to avoid conversation. Served him right for bugging the kids! Valerie seemed to agree. She looked like the cat who caught the canary.

There were so many clothes for the bears, it was actually kind of weird. The price tags were just as confusing.  Some of these things cost just as much as the darn bear! She ended stuck between a pink dress and a blue dress. Danny and Valerie joined her.

“The pink one is more in style,” Valerie told her.

“But the pink one is more expensive. I’m afraid I’ll lose it while travelling.” Dani explained

“Then get this! It’s always in style!” Danny sang.

The girls looked to see Danny holding up a white t-shirt with a strawberry in the center. Above it was the phrase “Berry Best” in cursive. Dani giggled at the pun while Valerie looked unimpressed.  Unfortunately, his outburst had attracted a lot of kids.

“I want one!”

“Mr. Date, can you get me one?”

“Mommy! The man won’t let me have that!”

Neither of the trio ended up buying any clothing for the stuffed animals.

The naming station was the most uneventful part of the trip. Danielle secretly named her bear “Snowball”. Neither Danny nor Valerie would tell the names if their new “furry friends”. After paying for the bears, the three exited with their dignity barely staying intact.

“So, where do you want to go next?” Valerie asked.

Dani thought for a moment. They HAD done something everyone would like or at least be the same amount of embarrassed… “Why don’t we go to the salon?”

The only boy in the group frowned in resignation. “I guess you guys can go ahead. I’ll meet you in an hour?”

“I don’t think so, ghost boy. You’re coming with us!” Valerie laughed.

Danny paled.

Danielle started to put the things she pulled out, back where they had been kept. The only exceptions were the t-shirt, picture and the teddy bear. Those she decided would have a permanent spot in her room. She briefly wondered if Danny and Valerie had expected her to show up. They were in college now and knew she had been adopted.

A knock drew her out of her thoughts. She opened the door and saw no one was there except her guards. They gave her quizzical looks. She gave a small awkward wave and shut the door. That was really embarrassing…

She turned to see the two heroes of Amity Park waving at her from the window. She brightened.

[planetsam]

Malex please! Based on Alex saying “You do run hot Guerin” :) thank you!

“When you said you sent your father off to the coldest, farthest corner of the world, I didn’t think you meant that literally!”

Alex ignores the snark and focuses instead on what’s in front of him. His father hates the cold and Alex thinks this is a much, much better place for him than anywhere near Roswell. Of course it’s not without it’s hold ups. Namely the below freezing temperatures and the crippling isolation. They’re on foot because apparently his father is already laying traps out and this was the alternative to huddling in the car and waiting. Of course he didn’t expect Michael to bitch loudly the entire way. Alex is already painfully aware of the fact that all of this is his fault. He doesn’t need Michael Guerin’s patented snark.

“Oymyakon.”

“What?”

“Oymyakon, Russia. That’s the coldest permanently inhabited place on earth.”

Michael looks at him like he’s gonna kill him. It’s hard to take that seriously when he’s bundled in so many layers and a beanie is covering his hair. But Alex does his best not to laugh. Their trudge through the snow leads them eventually to a bank. Alex pauses and Michael nearly topples against him, but he manages to steady them both.

“What?” Michael asks.

“It’s a lake,” Alex explains, “frozen over.”

“Great,” Michael says sarcastically.

“Would you hold on?” Alex grabs him back, “we don’t know if it’s frozen over—“

“Seriously?” Michael rolls his eyes, “obviously it is.”

“Would you wait?!” Alex demands, loudly as he dares to but Michael has gone full stubborn and is already on the ice. Alex tells himself it’s cold as hell and probably fine. When Michael turns to make sure he’s being followed, Alex glares at him, “would you slow down?” He demands.

And that’s when the ice gives way.

Michael goes down. One moment he’s there and the next he’s gone. It’s dumb luck that he grabs the lip of the ice and holds on as tightly as he can. That he’s got anything to hold onto at all. Alex races towards the place where he was, getting as close as he can. Thankfully the ice is firm enough and he can slide right over to where Michael is, grabbing the back of his coat. He says thankfully because Michael is gripping at the ledge and kicking frantically, but the pure terror in his eyes makes Alex realize why he was so determined to just get across the ice.

Michael can’t swim.

“I got you,” Alex says, “hey, hey! Look at me!” Michael turns panic frozen eyes to him, “I need you to open your legs like you’re going to stomp and bring them together. On the count of three. One, two, three.”

Michael kicks and Alex hauls him up onto the ice. He wastes no time in getting them back, an action helped by Michael frantically scrambling away. It’s impossible to see anything this close. Alex really hopes he doesn’t have to beg Michael to use his powers. Thankfully the ice holds. He gets them back to the bank and hauls towards the cabin he saw earlier. He doesn’t let Michael pause or rest, he’s going to take advantage of every second of this adrenaline burst he can. He gets them to the cabin and pounds the door but no-one’s there. Thanking God for small favors he gets Michael inside and follows, bringing them over to the fireplace.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders.

It’s a testament to how cold he is that Michael does it with no snark. Alex strips to his base layer as well and wraps his coat around Michael’s back before wrapping his arms around his front. He’s fractionally taller but Michael burrows against him as best he can. He’s shivering which is a good sign but Alex still holds him.

“F-fuck that was cold,” Michael gets out.

“You’re lucky you run so hot,” Alex says.

“I don’t feel it right now,” Michael tells him.

Alex tightens his arms. He needs to go start a fire.

“I’m going to find wood,” he says.

“Hey! That water was really cold,” Michael starts and Alex rolls his eyes.

“I meant for the fire,” he says, “zip the coat up. Hopefully there’s some around here.”

Their luck holds and he finds some just outside, covered in a tarp. He grabs two armfuls and goes back for a third. Michael is shivering by the fireplace and Alex can feel the chill settling in his bones from just a little while outdoors. Still this is more important than the warmth Michael seems to always radiate and he quickly gets a fire going. Michael is immediately next to him, letting the warmth wash over him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted you than I am right now,” he says.

“Let’s finish getting you warmed up,” Alex says, unzipping the coat and wrapping his arms around Michael. Michael yelps the moment Alex makes contact and he remembers that he was outside, “shit, sorry—“

“Keep your hands there,” Michael orders, “but Jesus. Take gloves next time.”

Alex keeps his hands pressed to Michael’s hot skin. It’s been a while since they touched without clothes on—or with one of them without clothes on. He’s almost forgotten just how hot Michael feels. It’s odd how now that he knows what Michael is, a million little things he’s made excuses for immediately have an explanation.

“I thought you were sick the first time we hooked up,” he admits, “your body temperature was so high.”

“Best I can tell it’s just part of our physiology,” Michael says and then stops, “is that why I found DayQuil in my truck?”

“I thought you were sick!” Alex protests, “I didn’t want you to get worse.”

Michael shakes his head but his lips are curving into a smile that seems to warm Alex in a different way. Michael deserves more kindness than the world has given him. Alex is glad to make up even just a fraction of the difference. It’s oddly intimate to be confessing this kind of thing when neither of them can run away or back off or do any of the physical stuff they so often do in these moments. He doesn’t have a choice but to hold Michael and he doesn’t hate having the excuse of survival. Except for the lingering threat of hypothermia.

“Can you not swim at all?” He asks finally. Michael tenses, “I get why but—“

“We live in the desert,” Michael says under his breath.

“I’ll teach you,” Alex offers. Michael looks at him with narrowed eyes, “I just had to re-learn. Trust me, it’s all still fresh.”

Vulnerability isn’t either of their strong suits but maybe the warped mutual destruction of them both being in that position is luring enough to get Michael to shrug.

“If you wanna waste your time with that, sure,” he says.

“Great,” Alex replies, not rising to the bait, “but lets get through this first, yeah?”

“I mean it wasn’t a big deal, you know?” Michael continues, not taking the offer of a subject change, “when I was growing up. Riding a bike, sure. But it’s not like anyone had a pool—“ he trails off with an angry, embarrassed shrug. Alex knows he never seems to say the right things in these situation, “it’s not a big deal.”

“You know I had to learn how to walk?” He says, “and swim. And I still don’t know how to ride a bike,” Michael looks up at him, “you want to play this game I’ll pull the cripple card.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Michael mutters and presses back against him, but the tension in him does somewhat lessen, “and fucking cold. Were you always this cold?”

“Compared to you I was,” Alex says, “am,” he corrects, “you run so hot—“ he feels Michael grin against him. And something else, “you just almost drowned, you can’t be serious.”

“It’s a bodily reaction!” Michael objects, “you want me to—“

“Do not move,” Alex orders.

“Aye Aye Captain,” Michael says.

“Do not call me that,” Alex snaps. This close, Michael can definitely tell why. There’s something wicked in his eyes when he looks at him but Alex gives him a pleading look. The last thing they need is for whoever’s cabin this is to walk in on them like that, “we don’t even know whose cabin this is.”

“It’s fine,” Michael says, “doors are locked.”

“Michael—“ Alex warns.

“Say no,” Michael challenges, “and I’ll stop.”

Alex digs his teeth into his lower lip. He should. Not because he doesn’t want to but because this is not the time or the place. But Michael’s fucking warm and when that warmth is pressed against him, it’s really really difficult to think practically. This is an unsanctioned operation and his clothes still have to dry out anyway. Michael gets to his belt buckle but doesn’t go any farther, giving him another chance to back out.

“This has to be quick,” he says.

“Aye A—“

“I am not that kind of Captain!”

[wildmomodoesart]

OCtober Day 1

OCtober Day 1- Beginnings

Warnings: None. Eventual romance. Slow burn

A/N: I haven’t written fanfiction in years. But I roleplay almost daily so hopefully that helps. This is to flush out my newest OC, Samantha. Also, it’s not edited because I dont have a real word pad.

It was still so early the sun hadn't peeked out of the sky yet. Yet here she was, taking in the cold New York morning air in deep even breaths. The sound of her tennis shoes hitting the pavement, along with the sound of little taps of her running companion, echoed on the near empty streets. She could feel her braid beat against her back softly with every step as she continued her early morning run with her rescued doberman, Duke. 

Samantha, Sam for short, always woke up early enough to take Duke out on her morning runs with her before work, that is if he wasn't being lazy.  Sam is a personal trainer for actors who need to prepare for huge block buster movie roles. Ever since she was little, she would hang out at her grandfather's gym and she was hooked ever since. Many times, the patrons would help teach her how to lift properly, how to protect herself if the situation ever called for it and she turned that into her profession. 

That being said, Sam was not  petite in the slightest. She had a very athletic build, small chest, and toned muscles all over. Being part Hispanic, she had tan skin and thick long dark hair that she normally tied up in a braid or two. She did have dark blue eyes, thanks to her father's genes, and one little beauty mark that kissed her left cheek.

It was early January, so to say it was cold would have been an understatement. However, she wore her thick leggings, breathable sports jacket and some fingerless gloves. The very tip of her nose was starting to get red, but she was on the home stretch. As soon as she turned this block she would only have to go about a third of a mile before she would be at her building. 

However when she looked up, having glanced down to check on how Duke was holding up, she saw something she hadn't expected. A little ways down the way, was a man, dressed in what looked like grey joggers and a black hoodie with the hood up and a beanie. Honestly, the man looked like the normal new yorker hobo with his floofy beard and crouched down stance. At this point, Duke switched the side he was running along, unprompted, to put some distance between the man and his mother. It was a silent thing Sam always appreciated about the doberman.

Before she could cross the street to give them both some space away from the hobo, Sam noticed it. There was a small grey looking dog near him. The dogs face was box-y, almost round, and she instantly recognized the breed. It was a little pitbull. And by the looks of it, it was still very unsure about the man who was holding out a mcdonalds cheeseburger. The scene caused her to slow her pace down, her own dog mirroring the motion, though his ears perked up even higher at the sight of the potential new friend. The other pair looked over at them, this gave the small pitbull the opportunity to take the burger from the man's hand and cower back a bit more.

The look on the man's face was... tender almost. They were close enough that she could hear his gruff voice whisper a 'shit' and 'its okay mama, its okay' before he turned to look back up at her and her dog. Snapping her fingers, Duke sat on command and Sam ordered him to stay put as she approached slowly.

"Is she yours?" She asked softly, keeping her distance so not to scare the dog away.

"Mm? No. Found her." He said simply as he looked her over a bit before he backed up a bit and stood, going to the bench close by to get another yellow wrapped burger. "Trying to bribe her. I've seen her around here for a few days now. Thinkin' she was a bait dog..."

Whatever feelings of normal dread Sam had felt at this stranger, who was surprisingly awake at this unusual hour, disappeared almost instantly. Though she did have her reserves. God forbid he was someone who was going to use her to fight or breed.

"Didn't want to call animal control. They'd probably just put her down, you know?" He said as he sighed as he reached into the bag and turned his attention back to the pit who was finishing up the burger and wagging her tail slightly. Definitely seemed like a good guy. Sam shifted, her breath and heart rate finally beginning it's decline. Looking him over she noticed he didn't have anything on him, only the bag of burgers.

"You need a hand?" She asked gently.

"Nah. 'm okay. Just got the one burger left..." He said not wanting to come off as wanting to get rid of her, but definitely wanting to have his focus on the pit bull in front of them.

"I mean, once you get her. Here. You can hold onto this." Sam held out the red leash she always held. More often than not, she would keep Duke off the leash, it being so early usually that he never wandered off or got distracted by other people. "I have a few spares at home."

Nodding towards her building that was close, Frank looked from it to her hand and then up to her blue eyes. Swallowing thickly, he took the leash and murmured a thank you. The grey pitbull began to sniff the ground around her before she began to inch closer and closer to them both. Her cold nose was close to Sam. 

This of course made Duke whine a bit. He wanted to be friends with the stray too! The pitbull's head perked up a bit but she didn't go near the doberman, instead she went back to sniffing the ground  and looked upwards towards the bearded man. Burger spotted, she licked her chops and looked at him with the most beautiful brown eyes.

"Hey there, mama." The man cooed in a soft voice and began to unwrap the burger. Breaking it into pieces, he dropped some and began to loop the leash into a makeshift collar and leash combo. 

His hand made a connection and it was almost as if the dog realized how good he was. She was wiggling her bottom so much she had to sit down and leaned on his leg as she did so, eating up the bits of burger on the floor. Sam's face held a bright grin as the man seemed to get as excited as the dog about the progress.

Soon the leash was looped around her neck and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Looking up at her,  his brows knitted a bit before spoke.

"Thank you...again... I uh... I can give this back to you when..."

"Tomorrow. Same time." Sam said looking at him seriously. "I’ll want to know how she's doing."

"Alright."

"I'm Sam." She held out her hand to him.

"Pete." Cautiously as he took her hand and shook it. She had a nice firm grip. "Pete Castiglione."

"Nice to meet you Pete. I'll see you tomorrow then." Sam let go of his hand, and began to walk backwards to her very anxious dog. "Take care of her. Or else I'll have the whole city looking for you." She winked at him, but there was a bit of something in her voice that told him that she was serious.

Oh boy.

[funkzpiel]

Fictober 2018 | Day 19

Kink!Fic | Vampires, Thrall -- Gavin900 Heavily inspired by @mercurial-tenacity ‘s amazing grindelgraves fictober update, ugh it was so good it had me some kinda way.

“Why am I here again?” Gavin groused as he slid up to the bar next to Hank, scowl firm on his face. “S’my night off.”

“You were just gonna lurk around some shit hole like this anyway,” Hank said, sliding a beer to Gavin despite the toxicity of their words.

Gavin snorted, popped the top off his beer on the edge of the counter and said, “You don’t know my life, shithead.”

Hank rolled his eyes and jerked his chin over his shoulder to a dark seating area on the far wall, away from the dance floor, and with a blink Gavin realized that Connor was over there.

“What the fuck is he wearing?” Gavin asked, truly too baffled by the robot’s overly large coat, beanie and general dock-worker grunge look to manage to keep up his clever quips.

“Thinks that makes him undercover. Don’t worry about it,” Hank shot back, “Kid’s got a lead on that serial killer we been tracking. A hunch, I guess. He thinks it’s more than one person. A cult maybe. And he thinks one of the people comes here. But the guy knows Connor’s face and I definitely don’t fit in. We need someone who doesn’t look like a cop.”

“Asshole,” Gavin muttered, “That’s real cute way to say ‘we need your help, Gavin’. You think you really got something on that vampire-wanna-be killer?”

It was tempting. The case was a hot one. There had been a lot of victims and no progress. There was a hefty bonus for whoever cracked it.

Hank sighed, fed up, and barked, “We need your help, Gavin. You willing to meet this guy or not?”

Gavin kicked at his bottle cap and watched it go skittering across the ground before sucking at his lip and sneering, “Fuck, fine, whatever. Who am I looking out for and what do ya need to know?”

Hank grinned.

“First thing’s first,” he said, reaching down to the duffel beside his chair and pushing it harshly into Gavin’s chest, “Kid says you’ll need to get changed. Guy likes a certain look, if you feel me.”

Gavin opened the duffel and turned red.

“Oh hell no!”

“You want that bonus or what, kid?”

“Fuck you, Hank!”

Twenty minutes later Gavin was teetering around the edge of the active bar, tugging uncomfortably at the mesh shirt Hank had somehow convinced him was “for the good of the case”. The leather pants pinched. The only saving grace, if you could even call it that, was the sleeveless hoodie he had drawn over his head, more a crop top than any proper covering for his torso, but the hood gave him a little comfort. More than he had without it. At least his nipples weren’t exposed anymore. 

But he needed to look like the victims. Like bait. Mission a-fucking-ccomplished.

“This is ridiculous,” Gavin snarled beneath his breath so only the communications device he had hidden near his ear would catch it. From the shadows of the corner, away from all the action, he knew Hank was laughing.

“You look cute, kid.”

“Fuck off, grandpa!”

“You really wanna get into age?”

Gavin grumbled but dropped it. He sipped from his beer, nearly empty, and scanned for the man Connor had described. An android. A brawny, tall man with russet hair and programmed to 'invite’ certain people for a ‘good time’ with the killer, if Connor’s hunch was right. And evidently Gavin was on the menu.

Based off the description the guy shouldn’t have been hard to find, and yet the more Gavin looked, the harder it seemed to parse people out of the crowd. The bar was getting lively quick, the music almost so thick he couldn’t quite hear Hank – and he definitely couldn’t see him anymore.

Focused as he was, he nearly leapt out of his skin when a hand touched his nearly naked lower back and asked into his ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Jesus, man, give a guy a heart attack,” Gavin growled, pulling away. He turned to look and blinked, dumbstruck by the sight of Connor’s face, only different. His eyes were blue like the ice of a glacier, and he was taller. Broader, even. His LED was missing. And his skin... Androids looked nearly indistinguishable from humans, but Gavin knew the difference between synthetic and human skin. This guy looked... real.

“Apologies. You were just so eye-catching, I couldn’t help myself.”

Gavin grunted and looked the man up and down. He was clad in a tight black v-neck, a sleek biker coat and biker gloves, and Gavin wondered if he actually rode or if he was just one of those pricks that liked to look the part.

“Yeah, well, paws off. I’m waiting for someone.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, stepping into Gavin’s space.

He opened his mouth to snap that the guy better check himself and step off, but then he caught sight of those eyes again and couldn’t seem to look away. They were churning somehow, distracting. Something was wrong.

“Wha—” His tongue thick and for a moment he wondered if he had been roofied before the thought was plucked from his head as though it had never been. He whimpered, confused, only aware that he had been thinking of something important but couldn’t remember what anymore.

“Good,” the man purred. “Let’s dance.”

He was dragged out onto the floor before he could even wrap his head around it, caught in the middle of a mob of dancing people as hands – maybe the stranger’s, maybe others’ – traced the sharpness of his hip bones that poked out from between his too tight pants and the meager cover of his mesh top. Dipping into his crop top, tweaking his nipples, lowering his hood to nibble on his neck. The music was thought-melting, driving all reason from his mind, and his limbs felt as though they were on autopilot as he swayed with the music and followed the direction those hands.

“I think I’m going to keep you,” a voice said into his throat, skin pinched by sharp canines but nothing broke.

“D-dun even know your n-name,” Gavin mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth and brows furrowed as an alarm bell rang in his head but he couldn’t figure out why.

“Hmm… I prefer not to share my given name,” the man said, pulling back to lock those strange eyes on him again, pleased with what he saw – a man, a cop, debauched, blushing and so malleable in his clutches. “But you can call me Nines.”

Nines.

Case files flooded his mind. Pictures of victims, locations, witness stories. All they had was a calling card – a solitary card from a beautifully designed solitaire set: the nine of hearts.

His heart began to thunder, but even that slowly stilled beneath the man’s gaze as he held him close and forced them both to continue dancing as though nothing was the matter.

“But y’can’t be an a-android,” Gavin muttered mostly to himself, baffled by the face he shared with Connor. Had Connor set him up? No... No... His thoughts got fuzzy again and he whined when Nines nipped him with a little chuckle and a soft, “Poor confused little cop.”

He pulled back and grinned, and his teeth were sharper than they should have been.

“Where do you think they got the design from? Fitting, don’t you think? To design the ageless after the immortal.”

Oh God, Gavin breathed, cursing as his body melted into those hands and that mouth returned to his throat, the nipping just as innocently as before and yet if felt so different now. More dangerous. He tried to reach for his headset to find it gone. He couldn’t see Hank, he couldn’t—

“Ssh, I’ve got you.”

All thought melted away as Nines’ tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting both sweet and yet strangely coppery. Nines kissed him like he was hellbent on sucking the very air from Gavin’s lungs, and he only parted when the man looked fully gone, eyes blank and lust-filled as he melted into his touch and awaited directions -- throat swollen, blood just at the surface, waiting to be pierced. Nines’ brushed that spot with a thumb and chuckled, “Yes. I think I’ll keep you, little cop. You’re just too much fun.”

Hank and Connor shoved their way through the crowd, but they couldn’t find him. 

Gavin was gone.

[swyllh]

i. only then i am human

title: only then i am human

premise: [spy au] an extension of odds and ends; you are a spy, and jeonghan is your quartermaster. 

pairing: jeonghan x reader, side!minghao x reader, side!mingyu x reader

genre: thriller, angst, non-linear 

warning: violence, though minimal and non-graphic.

word count: 3845

part one | part two | part three | part four (soon)

1 2 3 4 

BUDAPEST, HUNGARY, DECEMBER 20XX-1: fingers brush carelessly against the canvas of your vest, searching. you fire a shot, or three, at an ornate pillar. somewhere in the abyss of your gear, ammunition lingers - you remember stuffing a magazine in the back pocket, dropping to a roll behind the podium when they fired.

or not. you duck down, assessing the rubble beside you. the frequency of shots point toward two, possibly three, shooters. unprofessional - or brutal, if the storm of gunshots is anything to go by.

"trouble, agent?" Q mutters in your ear.

you bite back a snarl; he knows you've been compromised, and still took a nap. god knows if you had your way with M, or at least human resource, you'd never have to hear that drawl ever again. at this rate, making it to china would be a miracle.

a lull in the blitz has you firing a quick, heady shot in the general direction of a figure. you slump back down. a strangled yell - thud - and then heavier gunfire.

bullseye.

"where were you?" you snap over the erratic shower of bullets, thumbing for a grenade instead.

"i knew you could handle yourself," he teases. "save the ball for the ride back to the safehouse, will you?"

you curse, an inch away from unleashing the explosive - an intent away from throttling Q. stuffing the grenade back in your pocket, you tighten your grasp on your revolver.

"get me out of here," you say.

a stray bullet pierces past you, another shattering the table into splinters. swallowing hard, you aim for a chandelier -

Q hums. "14th century, worth 600 million, possibly-"

"shut up," you grit, holding down the trigger.

the chandelier rocks from side to side, falling to the cue of your bated breath. glass, gems and shards of bronze crash to the ground. a cloud of smoke and dust rises. you dodge, rolling over to the walls. the second shooter couldn’t, not in time.

for a moment, your sharp, controlled pants are the only thing you hear. a powdered, bleeding hand strains from under the chandelier, futile.

"sapphires," Q, or jeonghan now, sighs wistfully. "anyway, you'll find another door to your left.”

you nod, even if he can't see it, and make to move. Q logs off, evidently assured of your ability to handle yourself from here on. you think about switching off the visor, but accounting for the blackout will cost you more paperwork than you'd ever need.

what the hell, you think, doubling back and snagging a glittering blue jewel.

the dead man's skull is crushed - blood, thick and red, oozing from the dent in his temple. his partner's crumpled in on himself a few feet away.

death is no stranger, but it doesn’t get easier. something morbid, something misplaced swells like a conscience. leaning down, you lift his mask up. it's sticky, wet, and you think jeonghan will never forgive you for the laundry afterwards.

a line of stitches trail up from his chin, up the sides of his jaw, ending abruptly where viscous black liquid begins to stream down. you let go, wincing as the mask snaps back wetly.

if anyone saw, they might assume a failed robbery perhaps. you hesitate, thinking back to Q's advice, and hastily ruffle through his pockets for spare ammunition. his vest yields several silver bullets. you grab them, uttering a small prayer before sprinting haphazardly through the chaos.

BARCELONA, SPAIN, FEBRUARY 20XX-4: the receptionist is a mousy lady with a tamed nude lip and a short, clipped voice. her smiles are perfunctory, halting just before the point of courteous. she points you towards a hallway, reciting a number of clear, crisp directions before returning to her work. you nod, and try to walk with purpose as you sieve out the operatives in her words: left, left, right, two down.

if you were surprised by the minimalism of the room - white, half the size of your dorm, a large mirror hanging off the side, a table and two chairs - you don’t show it. steeling yourself - is that a two-way mirror? - you step in, evaluating.

“oh, there are people behind there, alright,” comes an amused voice behind you.

you jump, turning to see a smirking man half-hidden behind the door. he’s lanky, tall, and pushing the door shut with too much force. you try to remember the face of the man who’d approached you in your dorm room. it doesn’t work.

this one, however, you don’t think you’ll forget.

it also helps the way he’s got an orange mullet and fashionably ancient glasses hanging off his nose. in fact, he’s the only pop of colour here - electric reds and yellows sagging artfully around his arms and torso in awful mimicry of a jacket. you try not to read too much into it.

he senses your careful assessment, and quirks an eyebrow. when you glance back at the table, the man swaggers over, guides you by the shoulder and seats you down. the absurdity of the situation doesn’t escape you; your neck is still warm from where his fingers had brushed past.

“hey, so we’ll just talk for a bit, yeah?” he says, tilting his head and capturing your gaze.

you nod. “sure.”

“i’m minghao,” he says quickly, tugging out his phone and jabbing into it. “so, just a couple of quick questions - where are you studying?”

“uic barcelona,” you say.

he pauses, head still bowed. “well, what’re you majoring in?”

“east asian studies and philosophy.”

he whistles, low. “how many siblings do you have?”

“two - an older and a younger sister.”

minghao hums, resuming his tapping under the table. “so what about them now?”

“the older’s in tokyo for a conference now, the younger’s in rehab for depression.”

minghao shrugs, lips quirking up to mimic a smirk. it gets wider as you answer each question. for a moment, there’s a lull in the conversation. he looks up, places his phone on the table and tilts it in your direction.

there’s a chart of several crooked, though stable lines. the numbers don’t seem to jump. you turn your gaze back to him, even and measured.

“remind me again,” minghao says, leaning back in his seat and looking at you curiously. “how many siblings do you have?”

“i’m an only child.”

you don’t have to look at the chart to know that the numbers are still the same, that the line, though jagged, runs steadily in across the screen.

minghao smirks. “you’ve been lying to me all this time, haven’t you?”

you press a hand to your neck, peeling off the thin, sheer layer of a dotted patch. impressive, you think, cataloguing its flexibility and adhesion. the numbers blink into a single dash. neatly, you fold it into a small rectangle and place it next to his phone. without much fuss, you step out of your seat.

unknown. undetected.

you smile, irresistible. “no.”

minghao stares at you, awed and severe all the same. finally, he drags a hand across  his bangs, exhaling noisily. he turns round to face the two-way mirror, shrugging.

the lights in the room never go out. you watch on, curious as minghao starts to gesture with his hands. the interaction, or so you assume, continues for a few moments. then he turns back to you, cautious with a wry smile.

“welcome, agent. i’ll be your Q from here on.”

UNREGISTERED, HUNGARY, DECEMBER 20XX-1: jeonghan's sprawled on the bed, pink fluffy rabbit slippers dangling off his toes. you roll your eyes, tugging off your dusty coat and beanie.

"you're late," jeonghan quips.

you shrug, tossing him a shard of sapphire. "someone wanted toys."

he catches it easily, twisting his neck over to examine it carefully. it must please him, you think, folding your coat deliberately over the loveseat, when the corner of his lips quirk upwards. jeonghan tilts his head back again, shooting you a teasing look.

you try to salvage whatever anger you had for being compromised. "a fair bit of warning next time before going offline would be nice, Q."

he scoffs, fingering the pendant, raising it high above his head against the light. as you pinch your crusty gloves off, sliding it surreptitiously towards your coat, jeonghan rolls over the bed and stretches, a sliver of skin visible under his knitted pullover. he picks up a pair of glasses from the bedside table, pushes it up his nose and hums. like a cat.

"not bad," he yawns.

you say, "you said it was worth 600 million."

"did i?" he laughs, replacing the sapphire down on the covers.

jeonghan swipes a briefcase from under the bed, unlocking it with a touch. he sits up, face transforming into that of Q's. you reluctantly let him inspect your gear, hoping he wouldn't notice the damage done to your gloves.

he does. "blood?"

jeonghan's eyes snap to you in a once-over. you shake your head - save for the scrape on your cheek, you've managed to escape unscathed. the glove is tucked into a bag, sealed and placed back into the case.

"your vest," Q says pointedly.

you shrug out of it. "could be lighter."

Q doesn't bite the bait, choosing to unhook your gun holster from your waist instead. his fingers make quick work of leather, unburdened by the shaky bumbling of your exhausted arms.

"almost all out," he sighs, unlatching the revolver. "wasteful."

you grimace. "if someone weren't busy taking a nap-"

he cuts you off with a tug to your waist, jerking you closer. "put on a show next time, will you?"

a surge of heat rises up your chest. you strap your vest back on, petulant and indignant. Q doesn't glance up even as your elbows pop with exertion. he lets you go, zooming in on the revolver instead. he turns it over in his hands, wiping a thumb over the battered surface of its handle.

"a stronger grip for you," he mutters, hopping off the bed, twirling the gun along.

you follow him to the side panel. "less reloading would be nice."

he snorts. "don't blame me for your butter fingers."

you raise a brow, smearing said butter fingers over the pristine gloss of his desk. he smacks your hand away, just as the panel flares up unbearably hot. you stare down, watch as Q sucks in a deep breath and press his palm into the steaming wood. it swells uncomfortably under his hand, and even at this distance you feel the urge to run. maybe that’s not wood at all.

“jesus,” you whisper - a sheen of sweat covers his forehead. beyond that, nothing more.

Q fixes you with a severe look. “nope, just me.”

you resist the urge to shove that caricature of nonchalance out of him. instead, you turn to see that the table is no longer steaming, no longer pulsing.

“did i trigger some-” you begin to say.

Q’s tone is clipped and brusque. “best not touch anything carelessly, agent.”

you suppose you deserve that. the panels on the wall unsheathe to reveal an assortment of weaponry. revolvers, rifles and even grenades are mapped out through rays of light, spinning in and out of focus as Q swipes past them. this time, you make a show of securing your hands behind your back, jutting your chin out to indicate any one of them.

“a good Q never reveals his trade,” he says instead when you ask about the oddity in the collection - a simple, cylindrical barrel with a sloping bottom.

“and yet you’re showing them to me,” you say blandly. something bitter rises up the valley of your throat.

Q glances at you from the periphery of his vision. “it’s not anything you’d understand.”

you don’t reply. he’s struck something, and he knows it. you turn away, make towards the windows as he begins to measure and repurpose your revolver on the grid. Q sighs, but you’re already lost, fingers splayed against cool glass as you stare down into rows and rows of sunflowers blazing relentlessly in the summer sun. there’s a glint in the fields, stinging, a man passing by leisurely, and

he stares up at you.

the face turns away, shielded by the shadow of an overhead arm, or a straw hat. something rings, loud and warning, sinks its fangs into the back of your mind. you could never forget that look. not like that - no, not like that. those aren’t his eyes - the defiance, perhaps, but trained, maybe, but.

the man wades through the fields, his weathered straw hat bobbing along with the breeze.

dash - legs stumbling in need, you crash into the door, yank it open, clamber down the stairs. jeonghan yells after you, then there are thudding steps hot after your own. you jump over the railing, elbows brushing against the rough carpeting before pushing yourself up. you have to get to him - this time, this time, not again. his gaze, resolute and grim, haunts you still.

the front door swings open on its hinges, a burst of heat and brightness slamming into you.

mingyu, tanned and oppressive in a hawaiian shirt, steps into view. “heya.”

ABU DHABI, UAE, JULY 20XX-2: your second day sober, and you’re already using an expired passport from an old case. the picture’s a blonde bombshell, and here you are with greasy black hair, lips cracked and pale. you’re pretty sure you don’t even look alive. customs lets you through anyway - maybe it’s the drone of passengers waddling on behind you, all jet-lagged and unappreciative.

“what’s your purpose of visit?”

“holiday.”

“okay. have a good trip.”

you press on into the stark, dry summer, eyes weary and wet with sweat behind sunglasses. shoving the passport into your bag, you dig around for a bottle. you wonder if minghao’s laughing at your petty intolerance to heat, then promptly realise you might still be drunk, or delusional. the incessant buzz at your ears don’t disapprove of the theory. your clammy fingers find their way to a plastic, ridged cap. pulling it out, you realise it’s empty after all - airline protocols.

you shove it back in.

it takes you a moment too long to realise that someone’s already in front of you, proffering a cool, blue bottle of mineral water. bronze fingers twist the cap open with a clear snap - a peace offering - and the man with his eyes shaded by a cap smiles at you.

“you must be mingyu,” you say, throat parched. and then, coyly, “soonyoung said he told you to find me.”

the man doesn’t move. his eyes, however, meet yours directly in guarded confusion.

doubt, perhaps.

you sigh, impatient. “i need a new pair of shoes.”

mingyu breaks into a wide, childish grin. he leans down, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “i’m your cobbler, agent.”

mingyu straightens himself. drawn to his full height, you think he might almost be threatening. his boyish grin and wriggling toes (unhindered by white thin sandals) don’t attest to much.

satisfied, he chugs down half of the water, exclaims loudly about the weather, and drags you out into a beaten silver nissan. you drop into the backseat unceremoniously, releasing yourself from the cutting straps of your backpack. the leather stings under your thighs. mingyu whistles off-key, breaking into a carefree but ghastly rendition of mariah carey’s christmas jingles.

“so, what brings you here to abu dhabi?” he chatters, revving the engine.

you accept his half-empty bottle. “holiday.”

he meets your gaze in the rearview mirror. “are you serious?”

you press your cheek against the upholstery, eyes wandering to the bleached vastness. “i need to get to cuba. i don’t have a lot of time.”

mingyu hums. “minghao was right; you are good.”

you lean back in your seat, close your eyes and wrap both hands round the comparative chill of a plastic bottle. the radio spikes to life, before mellowing down quickly into a nondescript, restless murmur. you shuffle, head twisting against patched leather and uneven bumps. without much thought, a quote - or two, tangled recklessly in a fervour - wafts to mind (the hard-fired earth… all the rules change.) trailing off under muted heat.

how strange, how fitting. a peek at the dashboard tells the time in waning green digits. you catalogue the receipts stuffed hastily in compartments, the layer of dust swiveling languidly under a cone of sunlight, the orange, beaded fox winking from the rearview mirror…

“hey, who was that soonyoung anyhow,” mingyu asks, voice tight. his hands are unhurried on the steering wheel as he continues, “he’s not that guy trailing us from behind, is he?”

a black mercedes benz lingers cautiously behind your beat-up ride. you smile. “soonyoung wouldn’t settle for anything beneath a porsche.”

“well, i wouldn’t know that,” mingyu says. “so. not a friend?”

“no,” you say, dissecting your backpack for a couple of spare parts. “how much straight road do we have?”

mingyu blinks. “four hundred? i’m not sure-”

you force yourself to focus, jamming minghao’s last gift together. “think you can keep us steady at eighty?”

he snorts. “you’re gonna shoot?”

“i need to get to cuba,” you say, unlocking the safety. “preferably in one piece. rev up a bit.”

he does. the mercedes needles in on you, aggressive. someone from the passenger’s seat takes aim - an arm arrogantly sticking out from the window. a couple of shots are fired - stray and unclean. this isn’t one of yours - but who, then? mingyu ducks, but his grip never wavers. it’s a wonder how he hasn’t been scouted yet.

“two hundred,” he warns.

you hook your legs to the straps of your backpack, and shove the side door open. mingyu curses, and the whiplash pierces into your skin, harsh. with a hand on the car door, you take aim at the tires. breathe.

and fire.

one shot is all you get before the car hits a curve, swerving sharply to the right. you’re knocked windless into the other side of the car, rammed hard against the door. there’s a blunt bruising pain in your back from where the clutch has punched a fist into, and a horribly loud clatter where his previously open door now slams shut.

mingyu gasps, half an intent to accelerate.

“stop,” you say, “stop!”

he gives you a look, and complies. the car screeches to a halt, throwing you down below the seats. you scramble up, revolver in hand, and watch as the mercedes benz skids from side to side before crashing into the curb.

the shooter in the passenger’s side is wiped out, head lolling to the side. his gun slips out of his grip and onto gravel beneath. the driver slumps into view, bleeding profusely too. you get out of the car, gun poised at the ready, and walk towards them. the brightness of the sun stuns you for a moment, but when you get a better glimpse -

it can’t be. even at this angle, obscured partially by the shadows or light, or tinted glass - you know it’s him. minghao’s face, stretched wide into a square, bleeding, is poised at the driver’s seat. there’s a bit of fuzz on his chin, you know how long it takes him to grow a beard, but it’s barely been a year, and -

it’s not him. it’s not him, it’s not him - but why? your hands are wet, unnaturally cold.

a disconcerted beeping registers vaguely in your ears. then there’s a grip on your arm, yanking you back and down crashing against the fuming grounds. the mercedes explodes, a blinding stream of light tearing and burning the car to smithereens. the fire bleeds, smoke heaving against the grey landscape, warping and furious. glass, paint, crust, or whatever rains down, blackened and seething.

the noise trickles back in, then gushes over you in full as mingyu shakes you.

he licks his lips, eyes wide with shock. “c’mon. let’s go.”

in two days, he crafts a completely new and impossibly perfect identity for you. medical certifications for your bad back and knee scrapes, too.

by friday, you’re in cuba.

on sunday, the organisation takes you off mandatory leave three months early.

you don’t forget what you saw. you don’t know what you saw.

UNREGISTERED, HUNGARY, DECEMBER 20XX-1: the vein in jeonghan’s neck threatens to pop - mingyu’s casual, offending fashion has him jarring in contrast to the articulate design of jeonghan’s work rooms. you hide a smile, leaning back against the table (a common, untinkered furniture, such luxury) that mingyu’s working on.

“who are you?” jeonghan says, arms crossed.

mingyu grins, twisting his monocle with a satisfying click. “call me sir mingyu.”

jeonghan eyes you, then mingyu’s back, noting how easy you stand next to him. he presses his lips in a straight line, then unfolds his arms.

you tangle your fingers together, decide that you’ve had enough of toying with jeonghan. “just mingyu. he’s the best forger in the world - we’ll be in china in time.”

jeonghan holds your gaze, nothing escaping him. “i’ve never heard of him.”

“that means i’m real good,” mingyu teases, turning round to waggle his eyebrows suggestively. you shove at him, unable to hide the grin on your face.

jeonghan clicks his tongue, walking up to you and pulling you out of the room. he doesn’t let go of your wrist even in the hallway, fixing you against the wall. you stare over his crouching figure, past the tensed crook of his shoulder and neck to the picture opposite - richard long, a line made by walking. 1967, if you’re not wrong. how typical of jeonghan.

“he’s not from the org,” jeonghan says, glaring.

you nod. “no. he saved my life.”

jeonghan pauses, giving you leave to trace along the edges of his jaw, up the angular sides of his face to the tilt of his lashes. he blinks, just as you hop over to the rounded browns of his irises. if you stare long enough, you can see yourself reflected in them - a tinted figure, interspersed with flecks of lighter brown or white.

his fingers dig into your wrist. you wonder if he’s trying to tell if you’re lying. for some reason, that wrings your insides into a helpless, bitter curse.

“when was that,” jeonghan finally says. “was it a year ago, when the previous Q-?”

you jerk your hand away from him, knee kicking up and into his stomach, only to be blocked by another palm. he stands his ground, something like pity ill-disguised flitting across his face. his adam’s apple bobs, and you set your feet back on the ground.

the air quakes, shudders imperceptibly with the force of reckoning. jeonghan feels it too. he steps away, lets you breathe, and for that you hate him so, so much. there’s a reluctant but eager exhale from him, his hand riding up to brush his bangs away.

“the Q before me, mi-”

your voice drops several degrees colder. “best not touch anything carelessly, Q.”

you don’t wait for him to reply, turning on your heel and marching back to the room. behind you, jeonghan’s exasperated sigh is minute, telling.